FunstuffofDoom

((*Sigh.*
I spend a day setting up a sailboat race, and y'all run off on me. Next time, I'm hacking your keyboards so you can't update. ))

The large, nigh-unintelligible... thing leapt through the portal. Noble Intent sighed. The probability of a timely success just dropped more degrees than he cared to calculate. Solution? Plan in earnest. Coordinate. Build strengths between the two factions. The... whatever she was, she had power. And she was on the 'other' faction. She spoke up with a ritual to find the sources they needed to destroy. That would do.

"Lady, cast your spell." He said to her. "Find the items. If coordination is an issue, well. I have access to large amounts of psionic energy. Someone such as yourself, or, perhaps, The Lady Widow would be able to direct it with little trouble, yes?"

Noble Intent listened to the arguments presented for a moment, and then spoke up.

"I agree with some method of attack that forcibly removes Alharzed. An economic attack is a long-term enough plan that as I might as well wait for the man to die. Besides, removing him from his political postion does not negate his power as an individual. That is, to my knowledge, an equally, if not even more powerful threat."

I spoke my praise too soon.

This has every hint of becoming epic.

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Natural Teleport. This is something I had to think about for my BS/Regen scrapper. I rationalize any long range teleportation as stealth movement, kind of how Batman moves when Commissioner Gordon is not looking. For short range teleports, such as TPing in front of a mob, I like the idea of her using flash grenades.


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That's really clever.

Very good stuff, I await more.

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And, yeah, I'll see about not apologising for the length. I guess it generally excessively difficult for me to get people to even read these stories it's become a natural reflex


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The Roleplaying Forums tend to be pretty good about reading whatever anyone puts up. With something as well-written as this, one might even say that the longer you can make it, the better.

"Hey there. Have we met before?"

Noble looked up. Standing next to him was another 'hero', if the word could still be used. He looked normal enough.

"No, I don't believe so." The man was probably looking for an introduction. Might as well give him one.

He held out his hand. "Noble Intent."

He didn’t look tall. He probably wasn’t, for that matter. A hair above average, perhaps? But he didn’t look it. He was one of those men who always seemed to be just tall enough to be perfectly normal. He wasn’t normal, though. His head was entirely bald. His eyes glowed now and then. He wore a coat in an entirely unseen cut, fitting his chest tightly, but lose at the hips, and long enough that the unbuttoned bottoms brushed his upper calves. His pants were baggy and lightweight. At the knees, they were tucked into ‘boots’ made of wrapped cloth. A small metal pipe hung at his waist, and his collar was turned up against the damp. His skin was a dull blue, and bolts of energy flickered along his person.

His name, he rarely used. Friends called him ‘Blue’, or ‘Noble’, or ‘That Damn Immortal’ as they preferred. Publicly, he was Noble Intent, a former hero of Paragon City. Privately, he was a tired man, who could not rest. When he stood, the weight of that knowledge rose with him.

But he still walked to the portal, and disappeared in a flash of light.

That there was sig worthy, that was. Were I the sig-switching type, I'd switch it up for your pizza-theft line.

Keep the awesome coming.

Buh?

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Additionally, this forum is VERY small. You have a higher chance of winning the powerball than running into one of us in-game. That and we don't really tend to 'in-game' RP.

Unless they've been doing it behind my back.

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Yeah, I roleplay ingame. Not as much as I'd like, since it's hard to bounce stuff off of a non-cooperating group, but I try.

Also, I'm entirely guilty of what the OP is talking about. Look! A distraction!

/vanish!

Conditioning, the VEAT inherent mentions that everyone goes through some form of basic training. I'm assuming this is a combination of self defense, basic procedures for working in Arachnos, and some familiarity with weapons.

I would assume from there, Wolf Spiders are slapped with some armor, and shuffled out into rotation. The ones that survive and figure out the rules get promoted, etc.

Widows, however, would probably recieve gobs of specialized training, as Grey mentioned, because they fill a significantly more specialized role.

However, for the character you mentioned, one who has prior experience and training, it's conceivable that she only went through some basic training, something to familiarize her with Arachnos, and then some training to get her comfortable with Widow weaponry.

There's still the story of how Mynx meets Synapse, and becomes a hero in her own right. There's plenty left to see.

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Natural- You've strapped a pair of knives to your wrists. Get your stabby on.

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The next Claws scrapper I make, THIS will be the only thing in his bio.

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Pics or it didn't happen!

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I'm new, and not quite sure if this is the correct forum for this.

I'm having a hard time explaining claws for a potential Claw/WP character of mine. Besides being a cyborg, or some animal-based hero, I can think of nothing.

Can anybody throw me a bone?

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Mutant- You have a mutation that caused extendable claws to form inside your forearms.

Science- In the quest to create the ultimate assassin, blades were implanted in your wrists. You can extend them as needed.

Magic- A strange ritual was preformed, and while there were no ill consequences, you no possess the ability to extend large claws from the back of your hands.

Technology- You have invented a high-tech suit of armor, which provides you with many benefits including defensive systems, superhuman traveling, and a pair of claws for offense.

Natural- You've strapped a pair of knives to your wrists. Get your stabby on.

I am in awe. This is brilliant work.

Comprehensive. Informative. Chock-full of tips and tricks from some of the most knowledgable in our community.

Frankly, it should be required that every person read this.

May 22nd, 2004, though I weigh in at an official 2 years and nine monthes.

The City's been good to me, I shan't be going anywhere, any time soon.

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A proc is a Programmed Random Occurance...also, people may claim that it is short for procedure, as in, the system goes through a procedure every time you attack to check if the bonus should be triggered.


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I've been playing MMOs since Kunark came out for Everquest, and the word has been tossed around quite a bit. Until thirty seconds ago, I had no idea where it came from. Thank you, sir.

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I was thinking of getting my Bots/FFs Mastermind to lvl 32 at least, he is 28 now...

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That's not very ambitious. You're 28. Plan on hitting 40, or something equally impressive.

This weekend, I plan on leveling as much as I can. I just hit 44, so I hope to flag down 45, and part of 46 over the weekend.

Next Weekend, First 50, baby.

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"YOU HAVE BEGUN WHAT WILL ONLY BE KNOWN AS YOUR DOMINATION!" Roared the mighty beast as he raised his gargantuan weapon above his head.


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Drool foamed at the beast's mouth, pooled, and dripped to the ground. Blood burst from its ears. That massive creature swayed forwards, and fell like a massive column.

DOMINATION! Flashed over its head, and a small man in a black leather smirked. "Domination? Why, that's my line!"

((Sorry, it's just something I aboslutely needed to see when I read 'domination' in all caps.))

Well said! I, too, look forwards to what the devs have done, and will reserve my Doom-and-Glooming until I've had the opportunity to test them myself.

Ya'll might want to do the same, eh?

Around the beginning of the summer, I finished with school, and took up a week day job in addition to my week-end business. At first, things were good. I was able to work, exercise, enjoy my free time, and post on the forums, at least once a day. However, as the summer has gone by, I've been working harder and harder. It's been difficult to keep up with life, and I've been losing more and more sleep. At the beginning of this week, I finally hit the bottom. Business almost doubled, but we recieved no additional staff. I decided to take a brake from posting, so as to get my wind back, but as I took the break, I've realized something. I'm sleeping better than I have in weeks. I've got just a wee bit more time, and I'm slowly working some semblance of stamina back up. In short, I've been able to handle work. So, along with that came the realization that posting on these forums at the rate I have been, in addition to two jobs, and a bajillion other things I've crammed into my life, is mroe than I could do, and so I needed to cut things out.

This is one of those things.

I'm sorry. I love writing. I love the english language, and I so thouroughly love being in the company of others with similar interests.

But I can't continue as I have been, and so, for a time, I will be withdrawing from the forums.

I thank you all for the comraderie, the entertainment, the good times, etc. I plan to return, so keep a light on, huh?

((P.S. Diov, mate, I'm sorry. Best laid plans of mice and men, eh? It would've been brilliant if we pulled it off.))

Acid Zero preformed whatever magic he did, or bent the universe in some way, shape, or form. A glowing portal appeared, without warning. It wavered back and forth, and for all intents and purposes looked like something out of the Twilight Zone. The sensors in Gabe’s new helmet flashed at it several times, highlighted it, and analyzed the portal’s endpoint. ‘Cap au…’ Gabe peered at the edge of the portal, and then back at his party. ‘Eh. I’d like closer, but I don’t suppose I can be too picky.’ With a vague muttering that may or may not have sounded like ‘Beam me up, Scotty!’, The Frost Fiend stepped through the portal.

For one moment, he was in Paragon City and Rogue Isles at the same time. Then he completed the step, and they were alone…

“I’ll handle this. You get everyone ready to go. The longer we stay here, the more likely this is to be compromised.” Acid murmured to Gabe as he walked past. Gabe nodded, and the beckoned Static to join him in the briefing room.

People were slowly beginning to trickle back in, most with drastically changed appearances. Matt’s ‘hawk was gone, and he now sported a rather new set of tattoos. One of the police officers Gabe had never had time to properly introduce himself to was clean shaven, and looking all the more uncomfortable for it.

Poor guy. Gabe thought. When I had hair, I hated shaving, too. Thanks, Crey.

Suppressing the need to rub his head and assure himself no hair had grown since he’d last thought about its loss, Gabe once again began to build a disguise for himself. He strapped on the Crey chest plate he’d seen lying around, and the matching gloves whizzed and hissed satisfyingly as they connected to the vambraces, and the servos powered up. A simple snap of his fingers confirmed he wouldn’t need to worry about his powers being effected.

The legs, though. What to wear there? Longbow sweats wouldn’t do, but they’d serve adequately to prevent sores. There, a large robotic set of greaves/boots. Tossed randomly to the side, they’d finish off the armor plating which would probably keep him alive, and completely cover his main distinguishing feature. One last thing was require, though. His face, too many people in Arachnos would recognize it. If they wanted to infiltrate Mercy, they’d do better without having to kill some over-observant arbiter. A helmet, something that looked like it’d belonged to a Paragon Protector before it was refitted, that would do. He popped the visor, flipped open the mouth guard, and dropped it into place. With a poof of escaping air, it sealed. Statistics scrolled down his screen, and a HUD remarkably similar to the one his normal headpiece displayed winked into being.

Looking around the room, everyone else seemed to be at a similar stage he was, so he opened a channel to the room.

“Finish up, folks. On Acid’s return, we leave.”