Ex_Libris

Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer... COH style!

I saw this awhile back on the GameFaq board and I thought I'd start the game here.

The Rules:
Answer the stupid question the previous person asked and then add your own stupid question.

The Example:
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Q) How do I get rid of the Vahizilock Disease?

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A) Go to any of the city's hospitals and wait inside until one of the doctors comes to see you. It may take awhile, but trust me, they'll make you feel all better!

Q) Where is the train?


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Then someone else answers the question and it goes on-and-on. I'll start off:

Q) Do I have to 'arrest' villains in order to make XP?




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Epoch Lv 31 Blaster ---Champion

Supergroup Name: Hard Riders

Leader or Recruiting Officers: Cass or Ma Kali

Preferred Method of contact: (ingame email, ingame Tell)

Guild Description: "Saddle 'em up, Cowboy!" The supergroup started with the duo Padrone and Cass, a cowgirl and cowboy. However, more and more people started to inquire and we are finally accepting other people into our SG. We have a few members so far, but are pretty picky. Preferrably the member should be lvl 14, so they have a transportation power. We'd love to have more people in that have a "cowboy" type theme but don't limit it to that. Must be willing to accept advise and learn and have a great sense of humor. More than anything, humor is important because the game is about having fun and anyone hotheaded has no room in our SG. We don't RP very often, but a lot of RPers are attracted to the duo set up, so once in a while is fun. We are -always- willing to help out others, and expect our members to do the same. Strict code of ethics, such as no KS, etc. Like I said before, hotheads have no room in our SG. Just fun and more fun

Ouch. Yes…ouch. You would say the same thing if you fell out of a 36 story window wouldn’t you? Actually, you’d probably say worse, but this is a family friendly story, so we won’t get into that. Nonetheless, lying there on the hood of someone’s expensive sports car was quite the wake up call. After I assured myself for the hundredth time I wasn’t dead, I began to think.
It occurred to me for the first time what really happened up there. For the first time I saw a view that wasn’t biased by rage or vengeance. It appeared to me now, that both had been played out. I had gotten my revenge on the man that had killed my wife. It seems the story of my origin has played itself out. I know I haven’t toppled Crey, or rid the world of evil…but I guess I never really aimed to. There are plenty of other Heroes for that. I was never an altruist. I’ll hang up my superhero duds for a while, as much as I was getting used to them. Crey will watch me go, without moving a hand against me. They’ve seen what I’m capable of. They’ll let me walk away. They don’t have much of a choice otherwise. I think I’ve spent enough time as Sledge for one lifetime. It’s time to be Mark Cannons again.

The figure that was firmly implanted in the twisted steel and glass of the vehicle let out a soft moan. “Ouch” Mark Cannons thought…and not for the last time. He tried to lift his head, even a little bit.

“Ouch”

He lay back down.

“I think someone should call an ambulance.” A lady wearing a large purple feathered hat said from the now growing crowd.

Sledge sat up painfully from the twisted wreckage and murmured, “Does it look like I need an ambulance?” As an afterthought he said, “Don’t answer that”

He scooted off the ruins of the beautiful car and slowly, ever so slowly, began to brush himself off. Inwardly, he was proud he didn’t mumble another “Ouch”. He felt like he could have.

A few seconds later he realized that he was completely covered in dust and glass. There were hundreds of tiny cuts lining his body. He suddenly felt very silly trying to brush off. “Another perfectly good costume ruined” He thought. “Ole Rico Suave at Icon is going to go ballistic” he inwardly reasoned. The thought brought a smile to his face, regardless. Regardless of how a man that just fell out of a 36 story building shouldn’t have anything to smile about. Regardless of the fact that it made him look completely absurd to the still growing crowd. Regardless that it pained every muscle and bone in his body to do so.

“I think I need a vacation” he said aloud. This brought a few nervous chuckles from the awestruck crowd, but that didn’t really matter…he had never wanted to be a comedian anyway. He had never wanted to be a lot of things. Nonetheless, it still struck him profoundly how this increasingly large group of business men and women regarded him. It was if they were children, seeing the ocean or a candy store for the first time. Total awe. Sledge realized that to these people, he was their symbolic candy store. He and his fellow Heroes were want made life “sweet” for these people; worth living.

“I think I need a vacation” he said again. This time silently. Plus, he had already decided. There would be no more Sledge, just good ole Mark Cannons. He needed to start his life over. He needed to do a few things for himself. Screw the rest of Paragon City, he needed some “me” time.

With that he walked off into the sunset…Well, it was more of a limp really. A painful one at that. And…the sun didn’t really set in the back of an alley he was walking towards. One thing was for sure though, he was walking away from Crey…hopefully back to the Whitmoore, he realized later. He was. He mumbled “I think I need a vacation” one last time…then as an afterthought added “Ouch.”

However, poor naïve Mark Cannons made one mistake…he thought he could just walk away. Walk away from his life, walk away from his duties, and walk away from his enemies. Someone forgot to tell him…you can never walk far enough in a lifetime to rid yourself of these things.


“Countess! You have an extremely urgent phone call on line 3,” Countess Crey’s young secretary Debbie called at her from her desk.

The Countess normally ignored the ramblings of her incompetent secretary. Honestly, she didn’t know why she still kept her around. However, something in her assistant’s voice perked an interest in her, so she took the call.

“Hello? This had better be important”

“Yes, Yes Ma’am it is. It’s about the rogue experiment.”

“Ah yes, experiment 32510 if I remember correctly?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“The one we let go in “the wild” so to speak, so we could test our genius in real life situations”

“Yes…well…umm…The subject performed well…”

“How well?”

“Well enough to destroy Area 36 in its entirety, Kill Mr. Smith, survive an impossible explosion and endure a 36 story drop with seemingly no serious injuries…”

“There’s more isn’t there?”

“How did you...?”

“There’s always more.”

“Well, we have him on recording saying that he’s looking for answers…answers only Crey can give him. He said he won’t stop until he finds the truth, about himself.”

“You know what this means?”

“We’re going to be destroyed from the inside out by our own experiment?”

“Don’t be stupid. Is the latest experiment ready?”

“No ma’am. He is still in the final stages of his objective programming.”

“Meaning what?”

“If we release him now, he could go haywire, he might forget everything, including his target, his objective.”

“We don’t have much of a choice now do we? Release him immediately”

“But the consequences…”

“Do you have any inkling of who you are talking to?!?! I am full aware of the possible consequences, but if we don’t act and act now he will strike again. He will bring Crey to its knees and I won’t…can’t allow that. We must fight fire with fire.”

“Yes Ma’am”

Both conspirators hung up the phone. “Does the experiment have a solid grasp of his objective?” The conspirator called into the dank underground laboratory to a dozen other milling scientists.

“Ask him for yourself” another scientist yelled back.

The conspirator walked up to the human sized test tube, squinted as he tried to see the experiment beyond the thick liquid casing that held him suspended. He could only see an outline of a man. ‘All as well’ he thought. He called…

“Jonathon. Jonathon Darke?”

The experiment’s head rose, and two eerily red eyes seemed to light up in answer.

“What is your objective?”

“To kill. To assassinate. To eliminate that which stands against Crey.” Came the chilling reply. It was spoken in complete cool confidence. The thing’s voice sounded just like the reply. Calm, calculated, chilling, almost ghost-like. “Who is my target?” the monster asked. Not from any sense of interest or pleasure, only necessity. Necessity to fulfill its master’s bidding. Necessity to Kill.

“Mark Cannons. AKA Sledge.”

that sounds like a great idea, I'd love to help but I can't. I'm pretty much computer illiterate. I know how to take screenies of my character, and even which file they're located in. but I have absolutly no talent when it comes to writing code or using any of the real power of my computer. in game name is Air Strike, protector server

BUMP!

Hi. I found another key which can be bound:

numpadenter - on the numeric keyboard

/Medax

Super Group Name: The Brotherhood Of the Jedi Knight
Website: None
Leaders: Maddcow, Darth Tormentor, and Talon3
Recruiting Officers: Same as above
Group Description: We just like to have fun doing what ever right now most members are between levels 9 and 13 but level doesnt matter. We like to go out and do missions together and help each other out. We do a little Power leveling, a little role playing and a little goofing off. If you want a Super Group thats all about having fun and working together then just send a tell to any of the leaders and well get together for some hunting to see if we all click together and get ya in. And always May The Force Be With You.

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Since your not doing anything excepted telling your background

[/ QUOTE ] You see, i can understand where you thought that, but just to let you know, (i feel a need for some reason) it's not my background, and it sucks either way, it's some pretty crappy writting towards the end.

My brother & I are making an animated series of our characters from City of Heroes. Anyone else good with sprites (2-D images) that would like to help us, or add a character, please do so. Anyone who wants to add their character, please know that we at the time are only two people.

Give me a PrintScrn image of your character & their powers. (Including Power Pools.) If you want to give them some personality for me then do so.

See ya later!

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No, Maneuvers is 6.25% for everyone, even defenders.

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Can you cite a source on that?

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Geko is the source; he said so in a post of his. But I don't feel like crawling through search results to find it. But I read his post myself when he posted it.

Ok....I realized I was using the wasabi bind rather than the SoD bind.

I have the SoD bind setup now and I have a few questions.

I dont use mouselook. I use numpad 8 to go forward numpad 4 for left ..etc..

After setting up the binds, my numpad 4 is strafing left and my numpad 6 is straffing right.

I am gonna rerun the batchfile and instead of telling it to use numpad 4 for left..im gonna put the default

I think my misunderstanding was thinking when it asked me to assign the key that it meant turn rather than straffe.,

Ironically i didnt figure that out till i started typing this lol.

And Yes ill toggled the SoD on and off for the superspeed to be turned off in smaller dungeons.

((Thanks Wallz, that's the kind of encouragement i needed. As for just having to have more, your wish is my command. After reading your post i stayed up most of the night finishing this. This is the (hopefully) thrilling conclusion to the first part of Sledge: Enter the Hammer.))

Sledge charged Mr. Smith with his hammer held high, and a maddening battle cry on his lips.

“Really Mr. Cannons, would you kill all your answers so easi-” Mr. Smith started, but didn’t get to finish as the stone hammer came crashing into his torso. He was flung across the room like a rag doll; his flight only stopped by a very expensive looking computer console…which was subsequently ruined.

“That’s the funny thing about rage,” Mark replied. “It denies all reason.”

“I see. It is a shame then.” was the only response Mr. Smith could muster as he slowly stood to his feet and assumed a fighting stance.

Sledge gripped his hammer so fiercely his knuckles began to turn white inside his gloves. Then, impossibly quick, he charged forward again. However, this time Mr. Smith met the charge head on. Sledge swung his hammer downward in a powerful vertical arc. Mr. Smith, his cybernetic limbs pumping air and oil at an incredible rate to keep up, caught the hammer in mid swing with both hands.

They stood there, locked in stalemate for what seemed like an eternity. Man versus Machine. Mutant versus Technology. Good versus Evil. They stared each other coldly eye to eye, their faces no more than a few inches apart. Both men shook violently due to the sheer strain this test of will placed on them.

They stood there for what seemed like hours, and would have stayed there for hours more, if Mr. Smith hadn’t sent his mechanical knee flying into Sledge’s abdominals. Sledge doubled over in pain, and gagged…fighting back the urge to vomit. He fell to his knees in agony, breathing heavily. Mr. Smith regarded him silently for a moment, before a vicious right hook sent Sledge skidding across the laboratory floor into another impossibly expensive computer console. Sparks erupted from the console this time, and a small fire formed on its control panel.

Sledge rose to his feet, and brushed himself off. He looked at Mr. Smith with a renewed determination burning brightly in his eyes, and was careful not to show any sign of pain or weakness. He took of his now shattered sunglasses, folded them neatly, and tossed them aside. “Those were my favorite pair of sunglasses [censored]” he stated calmly, his voice far too mellow.

Then, Sledge called his stone hammer to him once more and, in a fit of unbridled anger, spun in a circle, using the increased momentum to hurl his hammer at an alarming rate toward Mr. Smith’s head.

Mr. Smith was running on pure instinct now. He twisted and bent over backwards to try and avoid the hammer, but he wasn’t fast enough. It connected heavily with his left shoulder, and ripped off the better half of his mechanical arm. He stood there, staring at his shattered arm dumbly, as the oil dribbled to the floor and electrical surges emanated haphazardly from the destroyed remains.

Sledge was never the kind of man to let opportunities pass by unseized. He was upon Smith before he realized it, and his hands were once again at the man’s throat, like they had been that day seemingly so long ago.

Mr. Smith wheezed, now fighting for air against the fingers wrapped around his throat. Sledge only squeezed harder. Mr. Smith tried to say something, but all that came out was a non distinct gurgle. Sledge wasn’t about to loosen his grip. He realized the death of this man, the man that had murdered his wife and ruined his life, was worth having all of his questions left unanswered. Forever.

He was so intent on this emotion, so intent on the kill, he didn’t see Mr. Smith building up energy in his palm…in the palm of his remaining good hand. In a sudden flash of white light, of pure energy, Sledge was thrown violently backwards and crashed into the glass containment case in the center of the room. The containment case he had been trapped in not so long ago. The glass shattered under his weight.

Mr. Smith was on his knees now, breathing heavily.

“It’s over” he thought. He thought wrong.

Sledge arose from the glass case, like some monolithic figure from a forgotten time. Glass shards fell from his shoulders and his hair, but he seemed not to notice. His face was emotionless, which scared Smith more than any visage of rage ever would. He stepped from the containment case, slowly. One step, two steps. The glass crunching seemingly noisy under his feet. It was the only sound that could be heard. He stuck his hand out to his side, and in a swirl of dust and stone, his stone sledge hammer returned to him. He spread his feet shoulder width apart, and crouched low,assuming his battle stance, then began his charge.

The silence was broken by a gut wrenching scream of hysteria, of rage, of vengeance. The six-foot five inch, 280 pound man lurched forward, brandishing his stone hammer. He was moving incredibly fast, faster than any man Mr. Smith had ever seen, yet everything seemed to move in slow motion. Sledge ran forward, each step bringing him closer to Mr. Smith, each step reverberating off the ground, like dozens of miniature earthquakes. Smith watched each step in horror, knowing it each one was bringing him steadily closer to the end of his life. Like a golden juggernaut Sledge charged, unimpeded by anything in this world or the next, only driven by one emotion: hatred. It was then Mr. Smith realized there was nothing that would ever stop this man. There was nothing he, nay Crey in whole, could ever do to keep themselves safe. He knew now that he would hunt down every man or woman responsible for his death, and return the morbid favor.

Mr. Smith blinked, then closed his eyes, waiting for the end to come. He felt an incredible impact explode against the side of his head. It was almost indescribable. He felt extreme pain unlike any he had ever known as his neck shattered into a million different pieces and his skull crumbled under the impact. His head whipped around sickeningly, and he felt himself falling, constantly falling, seemingly a hundred miles until he recognized the cool touch of tile to his face.

He struggled to open his eyes. They were now crusted with blood. His own. He saw Sledge standing there, hammer at his side, staring intently at him.

“I knew you would come” Smith murmured, almost whispered, in seemingly an inaudible voice.

“It’s finished” Sledge replied.

“It’s only just begun” Smith corrected as he drew his final breath and closed his eyes, forever.

Mark Cannons stood there for a long moment, wandering about the truth of the man’s final words. He was shaken from his reverie as the corpse violently exploded, throwing him backwards. However, it didn’t stop there. Flames spread to all of the high tech equipment gracing the lab, and soon each of those were caught up in their own violent ruptures. Sledge instinctively knew that the entire lab would soon be a flaming pyre of death, as if Mr. Smith was striking back from the grave.

“It’s only just begun” kept ringing through Sledge’s ears as he frantically searched for a way out. He ran through the lab at a breathtaking speed, the flames and explosions following closely, nipping at his heels. He finally reached the end of the lab, and was filled with dismay. It ended in a large glass window. He knew he was 36 stories off of the ground, and knew he would never be able to survive the jump. Then again, he didn’t have much choice. He paused and looked briefly over his shoulder…just in time to see the explosion come up behind him, and hurl him into the air and out the window.

Glass shattered as Sledge was flung from the 36th story of Crey Industries, a fiery inferno close behind him. He frantically flayed his arms, but knew it would do no good. He took a deep breathe, spread his hands out to his sides, and assumed a graceful swan dive. He plummeted to the earth, his eyes closed and his hands out wide, ready to accept death. He landed forcefully on his back, destroying the hood of a beautiful sports car parked outside the building, and set off the car’s alarm.

It all happened in the fraction of a second. A Lady, a bystander, screamed. All chaos broke loose. In retrospect, people would talk about what had really happened for weeks to come. The Hero’s Inquirer claims to this day the Rikti had invaded once again.

To be continued…

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Combat Jump 5%

Manuvers 12.5% for defenders

6-8 for others i have heard

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No, Maneuvers is 6.25% for everyone, even defenders. So if you're looking for pool powers to maximize your defense, the top three are Weave (10-15%, I forget what exactly), Stealth (7.5%), and Maneuvers (6.25%).

Numpad0 will work fine...good idea...

One more question....i have a toon with superspeed...I modfied the sprint to default to superspeed and i love it...however at times in dungeons its too close quarters for it.....how do i make a second toggle to use sprint instead of SS.......sorta how fliers have ground and air one..

Aye!

Agree to a great post. Is it possible to get this sticky since it will help alot of new players?.

Niding

City of Heroes is a great game, but it is not quite the same as the old pen and paper RPG. I played Heros: Champions many years ago. I tought it was fun. Are there many out there that role play hero systems? I'd love to find a local group and game every once in a while. I live in Salt Lake City. Email me at billmacgoof@yahoo.com if you are interested. If any one out there would like to start a group in their area feel free to post here.

BillyMac

Quick question.

I want to use the down arrow to go down instead of the X. I changed the script for it by changing the X after SET to down arrow and it tells me when i push it in game Uknown Command Arrow.

I used Down Arrow since that is what the bind said that key is called. I know im editing properly since I have changed a few other keys to suit my needs.

If i change it to down arrow in game then it makes me go down at hover speed rather than at fly speed.

Wow. To all you smart people.....thanks from the average small minded boobs

The batch file worked great!!

I should be dead. I felt the flames wash over me, sear my flesh. In all logic, I should be six feet under again. What happened? I’m not entirely sure myself. The only rational explanation is perhaps Crey’s experiment with the invulnerability gene wasn’t the failure they originally thought. Maybe I can’t die? Doubt it. As well as I managed to shrug off The Damned’s blast, I lay in bed about a week straight afterwards, unable to move. No doubt about it though, something is different. However, I know exactly who to talk to in order to find out exactly what. The best part? I was going to be in the neighborhood anyway.

It was a bright and sunny afternoon. However, this only served to contrast one man’s thoughts as he stood outside a large office building. The man stood in the shadows, and any that passed could see the inner turmoil inside of him. He seemed to be arguing back and forth within himself, and his brow was dark and furrowed.

Sledge stood outside of the Crey Industries building. The same building that had already brought him more pain than most people should have to suffer in a lifetime. He willed away these bad memories and started towards the front door. He suppressed the feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him to turn back. This time they wouldn’t be waiting for him. He would have the surprise.

The two guards outside were amiably chatting. It didn’t even occur to them that a dangerous looking man was drawing increasingly near. Sledge didn’t recognize either
one of them, and didn’t feel the need to parley even if he had. The time for talk was over.

“Can I help you si-” one guard started. He didn’t finish his sentence as he caught a meaty punch in the face. He was knocked back against the wall and slid down to a slumping position at a sickeningly slow pace.

The other guard pulled out his gun but it was too late. Sledge grabbed it and ripped it away, then proceeded to toss it off to the side. The security guard managed to get his hands up to shield his body, but didn’t manage to deflect the vicious head butt that came after. He slumped backwards as well, and Sledge strode nonchalantly right through the doors.

“Excuse me sir, do you have an appointment?” the naïve receptionist inquired as Sledge stepped into the lobby.

“Sort of.” Sledge replied as he brought his hammer crashing down onto her desk…splintering it to pieces.

“Oh my god! Help! Someone call the police!” She screamed as she ran from the building in absolute terror.

“Call the police.” The irony was not lost on Sledge. He didn’t have time to sit around and contemplate which side of Good vs. Evil he was on though. A dozen members of Crey’s personal S.W.A.T. team burst into the lobby from two different entrances as a blaring alarm went off inside the building. They opened fire.

Bullets zipped past Sledge and peppered the expensive marble pillars and elegant fountain that furnished the lobby. A few hit Sledge in the chest and ricocheted off. Wait a minute…ricocheted off? Sledge was as surprised as the SWAT members. He looked down at the spot where the shell had just bounced off, and felt a bruise forming. A BRUISE?!?! He had just been hit by a high caliber assault rifle shell. Sledge gingerly touched the area, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and then looked back to his dumbstruck attackers with a rare smile.

He charged the first group, and swung his hammer in a large arc, blasting the assault members backwards, back through the door they had come in from. They all lay on the ground stunned and dazed. He dashed through the door, slammed it closed behind him, and locked it. It was reinforced steel; the other assault team wouldn’t be able to get through. He had to choose his battles wisely or he would end up taking on the whole of Crey Industries, not a pleasant thought…not to mention the fact that those bullets really hurt. He confirmed the thought as he touched one of the forming welts on his skin under the costume.

“No time to waste” he decided and dashed off in search of an elevator. A specific elevator in fact. He reached the hidden elevator this time, without much hassle. It was still in the same place. How predictable, he thought. This time, however, he didn’t press the button to go down to the ‘secret’ basement. He pressed the button for floor 36, and wasn’t quite sure why himself. A gut instinct.

The automated elevator counted off his progress in soft ‘bing’s as he climbed ever higher to his goal.

29…30…31…then, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Sledge readied himself for whatever could await on the other side. A normal looking business man stepped in beside him. Sledge was more perplexed than he was intimidated.
“Floor 40 please” the quaint man asked. Sledge complied by pressing the button. The doors squealed closed, leaving them as the only two people in the elevator. An awkward, silent moment passed.

“Nice costume” The business man stated. Trying to make conversation.
“Thanks” replied Sledge, unsure of where this conversation was going or what the man’s motives were.

“Where did you get it?”

“Bought it.”

“Really? My son Tommy wants one just like it. You’ll have to tell me where you got it sometime.”

“Sorry, this is my floor” Sledge responded.

“Will I see you on casual dress Friday?”

“Doubt it.” Sledge replied as he stepped out of the elevator and took a look around. The doors closed behind him.

Sledge knew why his instincts brought him here. He stood in a large laboratory type area. There was equipment all around: expensive looking computers, dozens of different mechanical claws and devices, and a large, empty, human-sized test tube in the middle of the room…

His mind involuntarily flashed back to that day, revealing memories that had been too painful to remember. They felt almost, forbidden. He knew he shouldn’t be remembering this, but he couldn’t stop himself.

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He was back in the test tube, in pain, so much pain. He looked to the door, saw ‘Area 36’ in large red letters above the mantle. He turned back to look at Mr. Smith, who was laughing maniacally. He couldn’t hear a thing. He slammed the glass, Hard.

“Your wife is dead” he saw Mr. Smith mouth to him through the translucent barrier.

He screamed. He hit the glass again. It cracked. He could see the fear on the scientists face as they began to panic, running from the room. Mr. Smith’s mirth was gone in an instant. He folded his arms over his chest, and waited for Sledge to break through. Sledge did.

He lunged at Smith, murderous intent in his eyes. Sledge’s hands wrapped around his neck. Smith was choking. Dying. Smith hit him hard in the abdomen, once, twice. Sledge didn’t even feel it. He did feel the blast from behind. Something slammed into his back, again and again. He saw a scientist, with a rikti gun, smoking wafting from the barrel. Now he was falling.

“He’s done. We cannot resume the experiment”
“Is it complete?”

“No”

Then all he saw was black.

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Sledge gripped the wall to steady himself against the barrage of emotions. He was standing in the same room. He saw the broken glass still on the floor. The rikti gun was on a table. The same one? He did not know. However, now the room was empty of scientists. Evacuated most likely.

“I knew you would come back.” Mr. Smith said. Sledge recognized the voice instantly.

“I came for you.” Sledge responded.

“I know.” Mr. Smith stated. “Have you come to kill me?”

“I’ve come for answers, and revenge.”

“There’s only one way to get both.” Mr. Smith stepped out from behind a large metal structure.

The two stared at each other for a long moment. Sledge realized that Smith now had a sleek metal neck brace in addition to his arm, legs and eye. He wondered if perhaps he had done that.

The moment seemed surreal. He had waited for this for so long. The man that had permeated his thoughts for so long was here, in front of him. He felt his hatred rising, but kept it in check. He needed answers from this man almost as much as vengeance. Smith saw this.

“You wife pleaded and cried before I killed her”

The fury Sledge had kept at a simmer boiled over. He lost it.

((This is all i've written up until now. Post or PM comments or critisms. I want to know if someone is reading or not...or ELSE I WONT FINISH IT! feel the suspense.))

mt = mistell

ok, you guys clearly ar not into this kinda thing. Whatever, i just thought it might be kinda cool, if everyone gotin on one story, ya know? oh well.

wow you people are boring...

Continuation:

To finish off what he had started when he came to this forsaken world. He knew this planet was destined for destruction, but he would not let it be by those accursed Rikti. He was seeking the only source he new of close to the Rikti, or at least closer than anyone else that is.

He knew where he was going was extremley dangerous, but he was always making dumb mistakes like this, it's his nature to get in over his head.

The Land of The Lost was overflowing with activity from those sacreligious mutants known as the lost. He saw something though, that arroused his curiosity...

Why were the Lost leaders talking with the 5th Column? What bussiness would they have together? Then another interesting thing happened.

there was a rustling sound, Two-Tone whirled around drwaing his katana in his silent fashion he had grown accustomed to using when working alone against large groups of dangerous and often times too powerful foes. It was a small group of Circle of Thorns, but why were they there?

Gnarly:

I have run the program and set things up. I make my bind, but when I hit LCTRL-M my game crashes utterly. Any ideas?

Later that day I did manage to find those Whitmoore Apartments. I wasn’t impressed to say the least. I showed my Hero I.D. card to the man out front. He let me in. Mr. Green or Mr. Yellow or something like that, I can’t remember. I just call him Stanley. He gave me an apartment on the 9th floor. As for the room…it looked a lot like the building did: something out of a horror story. The paint was peeling off the door and all that was in my room was an old dusty sofa and a bed that felt more like a rock than anything else. Good for the back I guess. On the way up I heard many voices coming from a room down the hall, not to mention the delicious smell of pasta. I was dangerously close to knocking on the door. Then I realized I wasn’t invited, and if this apartment was even as close to as small as mine the host or hostess probably wouldn’t appreciate my presence. Plus, I am not a beggar, or a softy. I went back to my room and opened up a can of beans. One other thing caught my eye. As I continued to my room, I noticed a very dangerous looking man loitering in the hallway. Looked every bit like a Hellion to me. Even smelled like one. I didn’t like the man, not one bit. Even though I doubt he truly is a Hellion. Who would be stupid enough to hang out in an apartment complex filled with Heroes? I’ve got to learn to stop judging a book by its cover. Appearances can be deceiving. I should know that best of all.

Sledge stood, leaning against the building where he had discovered Bruno yesterday. He casually checked his watch. 3:58. Mark shifted his weight uneasily. Perhaps Bruno had more fortitude than Mark had given him credit for. Perhaps he wouldn’t show up. Perhaps he had lost his only lead in exacting his revenge. All these thoughts whirled through his mind…until he heard something farther down the alleyway.

“So he did come” Sledge thought, rather pleased with himself. “Let’s see what my ‘friend’ managed to dig up for me.” He started off down the alleyway.

Sledge walked into somewhat of a clearing of sorts. It was where the building and three others converged, forming an open space that was about 30 yards long and just as wide. He was surrounded by brick on all sides…a fact that ominously reminded him of some kind of urban arena. Mark was beginning to grow uneasy. He didn’t like this situation at all.

“Good afternoon” Mark heard the voice call. It was a sinister voice, and reminded Sledge of metal grating on stone.

Sledge, following the voice, looked up to see a man descending from the sky. The strange man came to rest hovering a few feet above the ground. This man was definitely a Hellion, and definitely not Bruno. He was wearing a leather vest and leather pants like most Hellions do, but this one was wearing a strange demon mask as well. Mark couldn’t shake the glow of the man’s fiery red, glowing eyes.

“My name is Rufus, but you may call me The Damned,” the strange man said, in that same sinister voice. “Bruno’s ‘connection’.”

“Perfect,” thought Sledge. He summoned his hammer and prepared for the inevitable.

“You’ve caused my brother much trouble Sledge, But not for much longer” The Damned threatened.

Rufus struck first. Still hovering lightly off the ground, he clenched his fists as his body erupted into a fiery aura. In response, Sledge assumed a defensive stance and eyed the Hellion warily. This might prove to be more of a challenge than he thought.

Rufus raised his hands above his head, and channeled the aura into numerous explosive flares that zipped haphazardly towards Sledge. Our Hero was ready, however, and easily rolled out of the way, dodging the attack. The spot where he had been standing no less than second ago was now thoroughly scorched. A small trail of smoke lazily wafted from the spot, a solemn reminder of what would have happened if he hadn’t dived out of the way.

Sledge didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought. It was his turn for a counterattack. He launched his hammer at the hovering man, who had remained planted thus far in the fight. The hammer sped through the air at neck-breaking speed, the massive head screaming as it flew. The Damned casually dipped his shoulder, and the hammer went sailing past…crashing into the wall of a building and then through it.

The two opponents stood, staring each other down for a long moment, each grudgingly impressed with the other’s talents. Rufus broke the visual lock as he began strafing left, his levitation giving him incredible speed. Not to be outdone, Sledge followed suit on foot, matching his opponent’s pace. Rufus thought to take advantage of the unarmed hero. He hurled a small blast of fire at Sledge with one hand, then followed with an identical blast directly after with his second hand. Sledge ducked under one, but the second caught him in a glancing blow off the shoulder…singeing his new costume and inflicting quite a bit of pain. He merely grimaced and kept running.

They continued to speed left, and were nearing the wall of a building. Rufus brought both hands above his head and began to channel an incredible fireball. He stopped short when he noticed Sledge’s sledgehammer magically reappear in his hands. Sledge heaved the hammer once more. Rufus had to bend backwards, limbo style, just to avoid the incoming missile.

Sledge used the distraction to run up the wall of the building, and jump off, catching Rufus in a powerful flying tackle. They landed hard on the cement, but Sledge wasted no time. He brought his hand back and caught Rufus with an incredible right hook. It would have knocked a normal man out cold. Then again Rufus wasn’t a normal man. Sledge wound up for another punch, but as he did so Rufus spit out a few teeth then took a deep breath. Sledge’s eyebrows raised considerably in surprise. He could guess what was coming next. Sledge dove off the Hellion as Rufus exhaled. A gout of flame engulfed the air…where Sledge had just been standing.

Both men slowly picked themselves off the cement and stood to their feet.
“You can’t dodge me forever.” Rufus panted.

“I could say the same.” Replied Sledge, even though a smile wasn’t evident on either man’s face.

Sledge summoned his hammer once again, and then charged directly at his opponent, letting loose a savage battle cry. Rufus raised his hands, and unleashed the fires of Hell in his wake. Sledge ducked, twisted, and dodged his way around the seemingly endless number of flares that Rufus emitted, but there were just too many. One caught him in the chest, then another. Still another exploded onto his abdomen, the same place he had been shot the night of his wife’s death, a painful reminder. Sledge lurched and then stumbled, then wheezed as he gasped for air. He knew this was it. It surprised him that he would die to this punk. He wouldn’t even begin his revenge. It was over.

Rufus raised both hands above his head, and then unleashed a mighty fireball. It struck Sledge clear in the chest. Sledge took a step backwards then fell to one knee as flames washed over his body. Rufus dispensed a consecutive fireball, this one obscuring Sledge from view. For good measure, and in a fit of fury, Rufus delivered one final blast. This one shook the buildings and even the ground itself in its intensity. Flames exploded in every direction, melting and churning up the pavement, and scorching the sides of the buildings.

Then, everything was silent. The Damned dropped to one knee, breathing heavily; exhausted from his amazing show of power. All that was left of Sledge was the smoke billowing from the spot where he once stood. Bruno walked out of an adjacent alleyway, speechless. He began moving toward his brother, but stopped short when he thought he caught a glimpse of something coming from the smoke.

Sledge stepped forward. His costume was in ribbons and he had serious burns all over his body, but he was still very much alive. A look of horror crossed Rufus’ face as Sledge’s sledgehammer came sailing through the air once again. All three men knew he didn’t have the energy to dodge it. It hit him squarely in the chest, and launched him backwards a dozen yards.

Rufus groaned and tried to sit up, but Sledge was too fast for him. He was now charging, hammer held high. With a feral yell, He brought the hammer down with a sickening thud onto Rufus’ skull…ending their battle once and for all.

The shock on Bruno’s face lasted for only a moment as he turned and tried to run. Sledge’s hand gripping the back of his vest wasn’t conducive to say the least.

“Please don’t kill me” Bruno whined.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t” replied Sledge. The irony wasn’t lost on him that this was the same phrase that had got him into this situation already.

“Please…I have your information.” Bruno pleaded.

“It’s too late for that now” said Sledge. He was growing weary of Bruno’s games
“It’s in my vest. The front pocket. Please don’t kill me.”

Sledge couldn’t help himself. He grabbed the envelop out of said pocket and tore it open. Bruno wasn’t lying this time. Names, dates, addresses, it was all there. Sledge whipped Bruno around, and brought his face very close to Bruno’s.

“You betrayed me. I don’t take that likely.” Sledge growled. Bruno only whimpered. “However, there has already been enough bloodshed today. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand me?”

Bruno nodded his head vigorously. He couldn’t believe he was going to get off the hook.

“Good.” That said, Sledge wound up and hit Bruno as hard as he could in the jaw, then once more in the face. He flung the unconscious man to the ground, then pulled out Bruno’s wallet from his pants pocket and emptied it of money.

“For the new costume. You understand.” With that Sledge turned and left, having gotten what he came for and more. Bruno let out a moan as his only response.


The sales clerk at Icon groaned. Not THIS guy again. He had been a pain enough the first time he came in, he could only imagine what he wanted now.

Sledge walked up to the counter and said nonchalantly, “You know that one of a kind costume you sold me?”

“Yes…” the clerk replied tentatively

“I need another.”

i think you should write more about him and his adventure, make this origin story turn into a bigger story, that'd really help with is personality development.