Ex_Libris

Yah, as I mentioned, I've thought of doing that. However, there's still a good chance that a lot of people may write me off before even reading the bio. Personally, I rarely ever read people's bios, even though I'm a roleplayer. That's why I also thought of the keybind message. That seems a tad bit annoying to me, but I think it's probably the best solution.

PigLick

Ok, thought I'd get some RP input on this. I have a character (and a couple other concepts) who would, in real life, quite often curse, make "rude" remarks, and in general be pretty crude. However, I have a hard time really trying to speak in-character with him, because I'm not the type that likes to really grate on other people's nerves and also, (and possibly even more importantly), because I don't want other potential RPers to write me off as just a rude/coarse/immature person who *isn't* roleplaying. I suppose if I added some sort mention of this in my bio it would help, and I've also considered making a keybind with a brief explanation/disclaimer I can fire off as soon as I join a group to let people know. Just thought I'd bring it up here, to see how others deal with this and other similar situations.

PigLick

This one is a cool one.
The Canadian Shield bring Justice to the Evil Dr. Vahzilok
We are on the Virtue server. I'm not sure, but I think we had a couple members of Legion helping on that attack.

Now that's a damn good question! I am an artist and writer, and would love to contribute. Would like to know if there is any potential for rewarding excellence or if we are basically doing it for the love of it, which I do do...(lol)

Here's a real psychadelic hero!

Cyberjack reanimates with a snap, his internal diagnostics had run and rearranged certain processes to deal with future surprise overloads. His visor switches on with a snap just in time to see one of the Circle fall to the enraged Lobe. In is peripheral vision he see's Nevur helped to his feet by a woman he had not seen before.

Assessing the situation and seeing no current threat he assumes a relaxed stances and begins monitering the area. Movement registers all around, the normal bustle of city life. Then just at the edge of his audio enhanced perceptions a large, organized movement registers. Too distant to identify with any accuracy he turns in the direction and reroutes some power to boost his audio. With a start he takes a step back.

Turning to the recovering heroes. "Ladies, Gentlemen, we have a decision to make. There is a very large group of individuals heading towards us. I cannot determine the origins of those approaching, but the speed indicates unfriendlies."

ooc - leaving it up to you guys who is showing up, but if it turns into a fight could we avoid having one person wipe out all the bad guys with one super explosion this time?

HeHe, Dorian Grey was the identity i was using in that time period. I have since assumed a new one (for deception / protection purposes). As for how I escaped my fate - It is actually a statue that ages for me, not a picture. After all you can't believe everything you read. The painting was for your benefit and the benefit of the LXG. You all needed to think i was dead, or you would have kept coming after me. How did I do it, well i am known to make pacts with demons.

If you have any other questions about back story, origin, etc. PM me and i'll get back to you. I am more than happy to help you intertwine the backgrounds for these 2 characters, it would make for a great RP experience. I am now using the Morgan Fallon I.D. on virtue.

This is a group shot from the end of beta.

Well, go here for the complete updated story since I can't seem to edit the ones here.

The Complete Story

Cain ran. Time seemed to stand still for him as the world blurred around his vision. Soon though, his lungs burned for air and his heart beat harder and harder until it felt as if it would erupt from his chest just to get a slight reprieve from its torture. Running was no longer an unconscious act as he had to mentally will his leaden legs to move one more step. One more. Just one more. . .

Whether his legs finally gave out or his will gave up, the end result was the same. He fell. The cool dampness of the grass under the canopy of trees was a sharp contrast to the heat that burned in him. Either from the hard grueling forced run or from the events prior to his escape he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure he really cared either. He wanted the heat to consume him. Wanting to leave nothing behind for people to mock him or be afraid of.

“What just . . . why. . .” Cain mumbled into the dirt. Yet the words to express what he felt eluded him as did the answers he desperately needed. He shut his eyes out to the world hoping to wake up in his bed with his brother throwing something at him to save him from this nightmare.

His mind wandered in a dream state filled with haze. He remembered an argument with his brother over something trivial. He remembered an argument with his mother about being out to late. Even what his coach always yelled at him for when he goofed off at practice. ‘The way you act here is the way your life will turn, stop acting the fool!’ He remembered everything, except his father.

Father. Why had he not thought of his father recently? Actually, he hadn’t thought of his father in the past two years, content to let things go as there was nothing he could do about the past. He began thinking of him them and it came back in a rush that brought tears and pain to his heart. Everything his father had ever told him and Chris came flooding back in his mind that it was nearly impossible to hear it all.

‘Always be a man and admit your faults. . . Always keep your word. Your word and honor is all you have in life that no one can take away from you.’ Other father to son talks filtered through his mind but he seemed to be trying to remember something specific as if his memory knew something he didn’t. A conversation between his mother and father came into memory next.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive to practice was uneventful. Uneventful meaning the two arguing only a little and no one was bleeding when they drove up to the field. Laughing, the two grabbed their gear and raced to the locker room to change into their practice gear. Passing the coach, who gave them a swift kick to get them going as they were close to being late, they ran into the locker room and got dressed.

“What do you want to do after practice Chris? I don’t want to stay home tonight, I feel the need to do something.” Cain said while throwing his shoulder pads on over his shoulders. Chris, who was always the quicker of the two, was throwing his jersey on already stopped. He looked to his brother with a dumbfounded expression on his face which made Cain laugh at first until he realized he wasn’t playing with him. “What?”

“Stupid, have you forgotten again? We can’t go out tonight. It’s dads anniversary.” With that Chris grabbed his helmet and stalked out of the locker room, his cleats clacking on the concrete as he got out into the hallway.

“Damn!” Cain swore to himself. He forgot last year as well. Today was the anniversary of their father’s accident and they stayed home with their mother to help her cope through it. They all had lost someone they loved, but where the boys lost a father their mother had lost a husband and a friend.

Swearing again, Cain ran out to the field with his helmet in hand and his cleats clacking on the concrete unlaced causing him to stumble while running to the field. In his normal mock bravado he purposely fell in the grass rolling around as if he broke his ankle. When no one ran to his aid he jumped up, flexing his arms as if he were a body builder. Laughter rippled through the ranks of the teenage boys at Cain’s more than usual antics.

“Cain! Get over here and stop fooling around.” yelled their coach from across the field. “I swear you come here to goof off more than learn something. If you weren’t so damn big I would have already kicked you off the team.” Knowing that Coach Meeks would never kick him off the team for something as unimportant as goofing off, Cain let the remark fly off as if it meant nothing.

Coach Meeks sent the boys through their daily routine of practice running ins, outs, post and corner patterns throughout the first hour of practice. Then the real fun began. At least to Cain it did. The offensive vs defensive practice.

Christopher had become a rather good quarter back and because of his quickness he was very seldom ever sacked. His brother ended up being a tight end on his left side and did a very good job never allowing anyone to get through the left side of his brother. Today was different.

The first play Cain was a half step to slow and was pushed over by the defensive line ending with Christopher having to toss the ball away to stop from getting sacked. That’s when the problems began in Cain.

“Cain!” yelled the coach. “What in the hell was that?” when an answer wasn’t forth coming play was resumed.

“Get comfortable down there Cain, ‘cause your going to end up there again.” The entire defensive line looked worried as he had never been knocked over in practice. But play still continued. Three more times Cain was knocked down by the defensive end who proceeded to taunt him about it the entire day. The more they taunted him the angrier he got. The angrier he got, the worse he felt. Finally, he had had enough.

“Chris. . . call an audible and have me go for a five yard corner. I have got to do something about Donny.” The strain on his face was apparent to everyone of these boys as they had played with him for at least a year on the offensive end, this was a new look. About to say something negative to his brother, Chris changed his mind and nodded to the other boys in the huddle.

“Alright. Mic, I want you to run an out and keep your cover occupied. Jason, run a curl and make sure your cover falls for it. Cain, you better get their quick, because if you don’t I’m dead. And then you’ll be dead when we get home. Everyone got it? Break!” Chris wasn’t worried what the coach would say by changing the play, he had during games and had show to be capable in reading the defense. He only hoped this worked.

At the call of the snap, everyone went into motion. Saying a quick prayer, Chris faked to Mic hoping to draw the cover over to his right. It seemed to work as Cain broke away from the line and got two steps ahead of the right linebacker. Seeing as this being his best chance he steadied himself and threw. The ball streaked into Cain’s hands, and a gasp from everyone as he juggled the ball from hand to hand to get it set. Off he went, sprinting with everything he had and seeming to go faster with each stride. Faster than he had ever run before.

His only obstacle was Laurence, the defenses best strong safety. Laurence set himself for a powerful hit but was determined to take Cain down with him. Cain surprised everyone by planting his free hand into Laurence’s chest and hurling him back ten feet. Not really surprised at his display of strength, but at the blue streak of what seemed to be electricity that shot from his hand when he did so.

Time seemed to slow for everyone except Cain. He continued to run to the end zone and planted the ball firmly into the ground when he finished his short victory dance. When he turned around he saw an entire team of blank faces. Laurence was picking himself up off the ground, his jersey smoldering where he had been hit. While he was dizzy and a little confused, he appeared to be alright. The silence was broken by the coach.

“Practice is over boys, to the showers. Christopher, Cain to me. Now!” The two boys ran to the coach under the stares of their teammates. Cain ran to the coach unsure as what had happened, but also by why he and his brother were being singled out.

“Yes coach?” The twins said when they stepped to him. Chris seemed to eye his brother more than the coach though, seeming to keep the coach between his brother and himself. Cain saw this and was disturbed.

“Cain, Chris. What in the hell just happened? I mean, I know what happened but. . . what just happened?” The coach seemed even more unsure than the boys and doing a poor job of hiding that fact. The two boys didn’t respond to a rhetorical question even if they had known the answer. The reality of what happened was slowly beginning to enter Cain’s mind.

“Coach. . . I don’t know what. . . I mean. . .” Cain realized that he couldn’t explain himself when he didn’t understand it himself. He did the best thing he could think of, what he normally did when he would get into a situation that he couldn’t control. He ran.

“Cain! Wait!” Chris yelled after his brother, futile now that he was nearly out of site. Not only was he able to let a jolt of electricity out from his hands but he appeared to be able to run faster as well. Chris looked to his coach for some advice but saw nothing coherent in his eyes.

Putting his hand gently on the young mans shoulder he rubbed at his face with the other trying vainly to wipe away the pressure that was building up there already. “Son. Go to your mom. It’s better that she hear this from you than from everyone else. You know how it will be around here. Half the people will want to have him killed and the other half will mob him for an autograph. Go on now, hurry.” With that Coach Meeks walked back to the locker room to try and stop the other boys from making a bigger deal out of this quicker than was needed.

It had been only the three of them for the past 3 years, their father having passed away in an accident at his job. The events were unclear and the answers given were questionable, but Lori Alexander didn’t question to long or hard about what had happened to her husband. She knew in his line of work things sometimes happened and she knew that it was inevitable if he stayed there.

Dr. Jonathan Alexander was a civilian hired out by the military to handle certain projects that were to be done out of house. All he ever told his wife is he worked with different forms of radiation and chemicals. When her boys were born she was worried that something may happen to them because of the exposure that he received, but the boys were healthy and still growing today, much to her discomfort of having to by clothes ever month.

On October 18, 1998 bad news came knocking at the Alexander home. A driver from the labs where Jon worked at drove to the house and woke up the family at 11:00pm.

Cain, never needing a reason to be awake when he shouldn’t, rushed to answer the door bell that rang with a certain finality through the darkened house. His brother at the top of the stairs with their mom following sleepily behind.

“Yes? Can I help you!” Cain said with a harshness he thought was convincing for his age of fifteen.

“I need to speak with your mother son. Is Mrs. Alexander in please? It’s important.” The nervousness was apparent in his voice and his shuffling feet belied and type of comfort he was trying to appear to have.

“Well, she is asleep so. . .” He was cut off by his mothers gentle hand. He turned to look at her and he saw something he had never seen before in his mother. Doubt!

“Yes sir? May I help you?” Her voice wavered a little but she held strong fearing the news that she knew was coming. She then noticed for the first time a police cruiser parked in her driveway along side a corporate car similar to what her husband would drive to work. The office was outside his car, but he was staying back away from the two talking.

“There has been an accident at the lab. Your husband. . . Jon. . .” A tear came to the mans eye as he stumbled over the words. “Mrs. Alexander. . .”

She what was coming before he said it. She put her hand to her mouth to hold back the sound that refused to come to her.

“Mrs. Alexander, your husband has been in an accident. He was working on a project dealing with a new fuel source and. . . there was an explosion. . . he ah. . . he ah didn’t make it. The damage to the part of the lab that he was in has collapsed a section of the building and we are having trouble getting to him.” He seems to gain a little strength by getting it out finally but he still seems ill and on the verge of being sick himself.

Cain saw that his mother was in a state of shock so he ushered her to a nearby chair so she could sit before she fell.

They never found Jon’s body when they cleared the debris from the lab, but then again that section of the lab was leveled beyond searching it with anything less than heavy machinery. Their lives continued on, difficult at first but as the years passed things began to get back to normal. The two boys dealt with the loss differently. Christopher poured himself into his school work and had actually been promised a scholarship to MIT his junior year because of all his college prep classes he took during the summer.

Cain however, dealt with it far differently. He started hanging with the wrong people, he only joined the football team because Christopher said he would join if Cain did. Once he started football two years ago, he found his focus. He started working out every day and studying professional football teams and their plays. He wanted to be good at something that his brother couldn’t do. Their father had been intelligent and had taught at MIT for a year before he took the job at the Celitec Labs. He wanted to prove to his fathers memory that he could do something.

Today would be the day he learn just how he could better his brother. Just not in the way he or anyone else had thought.

*beep*. . .*beep*. . .*beep*. . .

“Cain! Christopher! Your alarm has been going off for five minutes now, don’t you think it is time to get up?” A woman’s voice pierced through the sleepy haze of young dreams. “You two better not be late again!” she yelled.

An arm snakes out from under the rumpled covers and taps the alarm multiple times to turn it off. With the bright Saturday sun shining through the window the arm shot back under the covers as if it would harm the person from its exposure.

“BOYS!” cried their mother. Sounds of dishes clinking together was a sure sign that breakfast was being made ready.

“I’m up mom. . .” a sluggish voice mumbles from under a pillow. “Hey. . . Cain. . . get up man, it’s time to go to practice.” Christopher mumbles as he throws the covers to the floor and steps out of bed, sleep still covering his eyes with a glaze. Standing at six feet tall Christopher was as tall as his father had been. And while still only 17 and young, his football practice had begun to fill out his skinny frame to something that would resemble the man he would grow into. With his short military cropped hair cut he looked a little older, like his father did when he joined the military.

His younger brother John was nearly as tall, just broader of shoulder and his long hair always seemed on the verge of dancing to its own tune in the wind. They were both of similar tanned skin and an odd form of hazel eyes that seemed to change color with their moods. Where Christopher had dark hair similar to his fathers, John had the long flowing blond hair of his mothers.

A pillow sailed a short flight across the room to land on Cain as he attempted to go back to sleep. He jumped to a sitting position wild eyed and unsure of what awoke him. “Huh? What? I. . . hey Chris, what the hell did you do that for?” Cain said with a sleepy slurred speech.

“Its time to get up man. Mom will not be happy if we are late for football practice two weeks in a row.” He emphasized this by ripping Cain’s covers from his bed as he tried to slip back under. Giving up, Cain seemed to pour himself off his bed, standing up on unsteady legs as if learning to walk again.

“Wow I feel funny today Chris. I don’t think I’m going to go to practice today man, I feel sick.” Cain stated as he stumbled to the bathroom. Nausea nearly overtaking him. “Your not taking a shower?”

“Na, just to get all dirty again at practice? I’ll wait until we get back. Unlike you I don’t need a shower to wake up.” emphasizing this with a dirty shirt thrown at his brother back as he retreated into the bathroom they shared.

“You shouldn’t have come in late last night then. You know. Mom will flip when she finds out you snuck out last night to go to the lake with your buddies and what’s-her-name.” Christopher stated while throwing a tee shirt over his head.

“You mean if she finds out, and if she does you forget I keep you protected in that pocket of yours on the field. I may forget who to block.” Cain declared as he hopped in the shower to wake up. Christopher couldn’t see his brothers face from their bedroom, but he heard the sarcasm in his voice. He also heard the unspoken, ‘I’ll do it to!’ that lingered on in the silence.

“Besides, you simpleton, her name is Julia not what’s-her-name. And you with you 4.0 grade average.” The rest of his comment was garbled under the water as he stuck his head under the shower head.

Christopher and Cain were the atypical brothers. They fought, they argued, and they beat on each other every chance that they could get. But when it came down to it, they were inseparable. They always claimed to be able to tell the other’s mood just by thinking about it. Being twins, everyone had always thought that was a natural thing to happen. They would never let anyone else threaten or harass the other, saying only they could do it because it was family.

The boys finally made it to breakfast with their mother, after arguing who was going to drive to practice. Cain won only because he physically tore the keys from his brother’s hands as they wrestled into the hallway.

“You two boys will be sleeping outside if you don’t stop that horse playing in the house. Save it for practice!” even though her voice was sharp her tone was loving and her true feelings were shown on her face as it lit up with a smile as the two boys entered the kitchen. “Now, do you two think you can leave each other alone long enough to eat? I made you both bacon and eggs, don’t fill up though I don’t want you to get sick at the field.”

It was a typical morning breakfast in the Alexander house. There was laughter, and jokes, and even a little thrown food when mom wasn’t looking. All in all, it was a good morning.

Standing over the bodies I looked into the city it is
such a strange place. I walked out into the city because of
the crime here I met a police man who got me aquainted
with a strange young man by the name of Adam Vetta. Adam
was an extremely bright engineer he said his primary skills
were that of weapon design. I showed Adam my gun and he
immediately told me that it was completely outdated. I took
a gun he made for me and began practicing with it he called it
a slug gun it seemed very effective and with that and these
incredible web grenades it made fighting the foes of this world
much easier. He introduced me to an officer flint they both
showed me where to register and I began my life as a crime
fighter still looking for Allan I decided that fighting for this
government which looked a lot like that of my world. (to be continued)

Jetblue. . . from some of the artwork I have seen on that site, unfortunatly some is not available broken links maybe, I like it.

Can you email me or PM me I may ask you to do a big project for me if your schedule can handle it.

kmcintyre@hargray.com

If your fan art has been previously accepted, can you submit additional work. Or should we let other folks have a shot?

Omnimax - Friend's don't let friends hoast pictures with AngleFire....

OOC: for the RPers in the forum

Where is all of this taking place.

Well it will be interesting to see how your Dorian escaped his
fate if you are using the storyline in LXG. If you are not I
would like to see you explain your position to Tom. He definitely will have a problem with you.

XXuicsus - I'll be playing the Moragn Fallon character as my main on Virtue now. I checked out you forums - but haven't registered yet. Look for me in game and send me an invite. Thanks for the response

The Order of Prometheus (OoP)

We are recruiting mature players who understand the game well and like to have fun! We ask that you please take advantage of the tools we employ to make our gaming experience the best it can be. Those being Teamspeak and our forums. You may contact our leadership in-game with questions/comments. Please look for Captain-Liberty, Polatriak, Royal Knight, Dr. Roboto or, Dr. Matrix.

http://www.gamehoppers.com (our current forum for the games we play)

http://orderofprometheus.com (our OoP website...still under construction)

http://www.teamspeak.org (the software we use to voice communicate in real-time in the game)

Name: Protectors of Paragon
Motto: “Following in the footsteps of Atlas”
Leader: Onyx Rage
Player Type: Casual
Number of members: 7+
Current member levels: 9-13
Normal time of Gameplay: 6pm-2am EST
Other information: We are a casual, fairly mature group of young professionals who love to have a good time playing. We are looking for like-minded individuals to join our group. We are working on setting up a website and we are currently setting up a Team Speak server.

Two CoH NPCs caught in the act! -

Why thank you......good Rping evil one

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