Heroid

((Dunno if they're taken or not:

Starfield
Astranomaly
Star Bubble
Bubblestar
Starguard
Star Touched
Astro Synergy
Star Gift
Star Gifted
Starcade
Star Pulse
Doctor Astro
Dr. Astro
Doctor Astre
Dr. Astre
Dr. Starguard
Dr. Starlove

Hope someone gives you the name you're looking for, or that this thread at least helps you find inspriration in finding an appropriate name. ))

((Dude! Congratulations! I always thought you were a very talented storyteller. I still remember the stories you posted a couple of years back and how engrossing they were. I wish you the best in your new position. ))

It’s four in the morning. I woke up about an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep. Ryan is beside me, sleeping in a chair, looking so sweet that I just want to hug him. And he is sweet. And kind. And heroic. He’s my knight and he makes me feel like a princess.

If it wasn’t for him, my life would totally suck right now.

I’m spending the night in the infirmary wearing a heart monitor because I had a really bad anxiety attack last evening. Why should I be anxious about anything? Of course it just might have something to do with the week I’ve had, starting with this past weekend.

After Daddy didn’t die but was instead de-aged, he hugged me and thanked me and it was just weird beyond words to realize that the parent who had always provided for me and looked out for me had turned into this little boy that I had to take care of now. I hugged him and told him everything would be all right, and then I had to get to work fast to make that happen.

I was pretty sure that the staff would arrive soon – probably with security – to see exactly what had happened in Daddy’s room. To make matters worse, when they did, there wasn’t much I could do because powers-wise I was drained.

I shucked out of my jeans and tee shirt and let Daddy put them on (yeah, I’m about the same size as a ten-year old boy – gyah!) which left me with my coat (glad it was a cold snap going on!) that covered me to my knees and so worked pretty well for getting me out of there.

We passed the hospital staff as they were running to the room and made it to the elevators without a hitch. We hid out on the second floor while I called Mr. Greg Counsel, Daddy’s lawyer and confidante. (Yes, that’s really his name. And really, I don’t know what would have happened if not for him. He threw an injunction or something at Michael Sr. that kept that him from harassing us while we took care of some really important, life-changing stuff.)

Mr. Counsel showed up in about ten minutes and snuck us out past Michael Sr., Mikey, and Peter (who were all just now getting back from where I’d sent them to the parking lot). Then he took us to his office while he set up the injunction (or something) and after that, we were safe.

That’s when the hard work started.

Daddy was still mostly himself in his mind, but said that he was undergoing some sort of change and wasn’t sure he would be himself for very long, that he was forgetting things he knew about his inventions and how my powers worked and that we had better hurry and come up with a plan of action. If Michael Sr. found out he was still alive and in such a state, he could have him declared incompetent and take control of everything – including me! It was decided the best course would be to set Daddy up with a new identity, and we decided that identity would be my clone-brother, Mitri.

Daddy and I forged documents and a journal (Mr. Counsel couldn’t be present for that part) that showed that Daddy had been working on cloning and “Mitri” was the result. Then we all visited a scientist Daddy trusted – Dr. Phodor -- and he performed tests to prove that Mitri was indeed Dmitri Martinov’s genetic duplicate.

Those tests revealed something else too: Daddy was leaking some sort of anomalous chronal energy. Not only was his mind changing, his body was too, and we weren’t sure exactly when he was going to stabilize. I was afraid he was just going to re-age and die again.

As this was going on, my powers were recharging, which I considered a good thing. And it turns out that “Mitri”, as he was draining off the chronal energy, was also charging up with quantum energy, which I also considered a good thing. Maybe he could use it to keep himself alive.

But – and there’s always a “but” -- Dr. Phodor determined that we were both lucky to have survived the anomalous chronal event unscathed, and that we very likely wouldn’t be so lucky next time. In other words, we could never ever get close to each other. We would never be able to touch each other.

My father would never hug me again.

I could live with that, I thought. At least I would still have him. I mean, even if he was younger and forgot some things, wouldn’t he still be who he was?

Mr. Counsel sent Mitri to Paragon City while I stayed behind to finish some legal stuff.

Okay. I’m fifteen years old. All of that stuff is enough to make me crazy if I let it, but I think I handled it pretty well. Daddy’s not dead, right? And even if he can’t hold my hand or kiss my cheek anymore, we can still talk and he’ll still be there for me, right?

When I got back from Virginia, I found out that my father was in a hotel in Etoile having a fling with my sorta sister, Dani. Supposedly they had wound up there through some sort of teleportation accident.

At first I was mad. Really mad. Like… finding something or someone to rad blast mad. The fact that Dani called me to gloat in my ear didn’t help. I thought she loved me. I thought he did too.

Then I realized something. Mitri… Daddy… he’s smarter than I am, and sometimes, when I try really hard, I can “see” things on a quantum level. I can “feel” the empty space between atoms. (Sometimes something like a steel door feels as intangible as air. I wonder if I could walk through one? I’m afraid to try.) If I can sense things like that, then I’m sure Mitri can too – and probably better. I suspect he manipulated that “teleportation accident” to take them to the one place where there would be no chance of me walking in on something. I suspect he set her up. It makes me wonder if he’s any better than Mikey.

It makes me feel like just… oh… poo. The heart monitor is going off. I’m never going to get out of here. I wish—

And then just like he heard my wish (or maybe the heart monitor? But that’s less romantic) Ryan opens his eyes. He looks worried. I don’t want to be a princess in distress. I’d rather be the one who kills the Witch King. But then he takes my hand and brushes my hair away from my face and kisses my cheek. All my anxiety drains away. I know it will be back tomorrow, but for now, I relax again. I might even fall asleep.

After all, I have a knight watching over me.

((I'm sure you guys worked hard and had a lot of fun making that.





And the costume is pretty cool too. ))

Once when I was very small and we lived far away from a big city, in a small town in a rural area surrounded by farms, a carnival came to town. Daddy took me one night because I wanted to go. There was a sideshow with ladies that Daddy wouldn't let me stop to look at, but pulled me away from, and games I could not play because you had to be 18 years old. And there were rides.

The rides were flashy, colorful, and big. A double ferris wheel went up so high that the people on it disappeared when it was at the top. It had lights on both wheels and on the frame too, and was huge -- the biggest thing I had ever seen. It made me feel so small. I wouldn't get on it.

There were other rides, most of which went round and round instead of up and down; some of which did both. Some were fast and made me sick when I rode them. Others were slow and boring and made me feel like I was too big to ride them, even though I was only in first grade.

But the ride I remember most was this merry-go-round that was way back in the corner of the carnival. The plaque on the ride said it was built in 1901 in by German craftsmen in a place called Hultzenburg, which made it seem kind of magical to me. And it didn't have just horses; it had a swan, a tiger, a giraffe, a deer, a unicorn, a dragon, and other creatures you wouldn't expect to see on a merry-go-round. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

We were the only two in line to get on. Daddy put me on the dragon and he sat on the tiger. The ride started and around we went.

Only, it seemed to me that it wasn't us who were moving; it was the world moving around us. So in one turn, the carnival with all it's weirdness and bright, scary lights would come around, and then be gone, replaced by the comfortable darkness of the Virginia countryside and the reasuring lights of the farmhouse in the distance. It was like moving in and out of two different realities. I've never forgotten that feeling.

I feel it now.

When I tried to revive Daddy, something weird happened. I could still see the hospital room, and him lying in the bed. I could see the world outside the window and the F-22 flying up into a low ceiling of fluffy white clouds.

But I could also see other things. Things that were dreamlike, that couldn't be really real, but they really, really were.

I saw Daddy younger, but still old, in a control room with a pretty red-headed lady. They looked scared. Then suddenly, Daddy was young, and he and the lady were together -- together, together -- and then, just as suddenly, he was old again. And the lady? What happened to her? I couldn't see, but now there was a baby and the baby was me.

And now I see the hospital again, but it feels just like it did there, dreamlike but real. More than real. Like a real that is beyond what we know. A quantum reality where everything that might be, is.

Suddenly -- everything is suddenly, even though it seems like it's taking forever -- I'm back. The weirdness is over and I'm still holding Daddy trying to bring him back, but there's no energy passing between us. It's like I don't have any left.

Then I hear his voice.

"Tami?"

But it's not quite his voice. It's younger, way younger. But I know it's his.

I stand up, looking down at him, lying there in the hospital bed. He's alive.

And he looks ten years old.

I couldn’t believe when she told me…

“Tami, m’ love, yer Da is dyin’. He’ll nae make it through the night.”

Ms. Love hugged me then, and asked if I wanted her to come to Virginia with me. It was nice of her to offer, but I figured my nephews Mikey and Peter would also be there with their dad – my half-brother -- and I just couldn’t stand it if, in the middle of it all, I had to worry about Mikey or Michael Sr. hitting on my headmistress. I told her I’d be all right.

Now I wish I had let her come along.

The Martin side of the family is giving me this “look”. I mean, my father is dying in the next room and they’re looking at me as if I’m their enemy.

“You have nothing to worry about, Tamara,” my brother, Michael Sr. says, “I’ll have guardianship of you and I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

Chyeah. What he means by that is he’s going to get his lawyers to take me away from the Rock so he can have control over me and my share of Daddy’s patent money.

I don’t reply to him. All of that can wait. I’m just waiting for the nurse to come tell us we can go in. When she does, she says, “One at a time,” and because I probably look like the lost little kid I feel like, she calls me in first.

Oh god, he looks so old. I know he is old – he was like 71 when I was born – but he never seemed that old to me until right now. It’s only been a few days since I saw him last and he didn’t look this sick then. How could it happen so fast? How could he have been hugging me in Paragon City last week, and now… he’s lying in this stupid hospital bed dying. No big mass of tubes and wires like on television medical dramas. It’s too late for that. All he has is a morphine drip.

I’m trying not to cry.

When he sees me, he smiles. “My little one,” is all he can get out.

I put my hand on his and give it a gentle squeeze, the way he’s done for me so many times.

The only thing I can squeak out is, “I love you,” then my head is on his chest and his arms are somehow around me and I’m crying like I’ve never cried, ever. We stay that way until someone puts their hands on my shoulders and pulls me away.

“I need to speak with him, Tamara,” my half-brother says as he guides me to the door.

I’m numb. I feel detached from the world, like I’m caught in the middle of a teleport and I’m never going to reintegrate. I am separate from everything. I am a part of nothing.

Why don’t my powers let me actually cure people? I can fix a gunshot wound, but I can’t cure cancer? I feel so useless.

Then behind me I hear Michael Sr. say, “Father, we need to talk about her…”

I freeze, not moving any further even though the nurse is trying to close the door and I’m standing in the way.

Daddy groans and it makes me mad because I know Michael’s breaking his heart, even as it’s getting ready to stop beating.

“I know you want her to stay in that school, but I’ve investigated some of the goings-on there and…”

I can’t take it. Or maybe I can, but I’m not going to. I spin on my heels and calmly say to Michael, “I’m sending you to the corn field.”

Michael Sr. disappears in a sparkly cloud of quantum particles and should reappear out in the parking lot. If I figured right. If I figured wrong… well, right now, I don’t care.

Peter and Mikey jump up from their chairs in the hallway like I’ve attacked their dad and they’re gonna get me! Well ---

“And you two can go with him!”

And they’re gone also.

The nurse screams and runs for help. I know she thinks I killed them; that I’m some sort of monster. I don’t care.

I’m alone with Daddy. I have his last moments all to myself and…

I’m too late. He’s not breathing anymore.

Oh GOD! Why?! Why do I have powers if I can’t even save the people I love?!

No! I’ve got to try!

Maybe it’s not too late. And even if it is, there’s nothing left to lose now.

I put my arms around him and let the energy of the universe flow through me…

From News of the Weird...

Doctors at a small coastal California hospital are mystified at the "heart that will not stop".

Early in October, an apparent homicide victim was brought to the hospital by ambulance. The victim's body had been drained of blood and several major organs had been removed. Additionally, the victim appears to have undergone an "icepick" lobotomy. While extreme, none of this was entirely unfamiliar to the hospital staff which had seen its share of murder, industrial accident, and shark attack victims.

What has them spooked -- and caused them to consult an exorcist -- is the fact that the victim appears to still be alive. After several weeks there is no sign of decomposition and the heart still beats three to ten times a minute. Given the condition of the body, it is a feat that hospital officials admit is a "medical impossibility, but here he is."

Experts at Stanford University Medical School have doubts as to the veracity of the claims, but do intend to send a representative to look into the case. [Clarion-Ledger (Crescent City, California), 10-28-09]

Two more days and I’m free. My sentence will be served. I've been grounded because I used my powers on another student at school.

I know. I can't believe it either -- that I'd get flustered so bad that I'd do that. I mean, it was to keep this one little girl with powers from bullying this older girl without them. I teleported the powered girl away. But at the Rock, we're not allowed to use our powers to resolve disputes or hurt other students. We're supposed to notify an adult and let them take care of it.

I don't like bullying. I lost my cool and wound up bullying the bully.

So for two weeks I've only been allowed off school grounds for class-related excursions (none of which happened -- why couldn't there be just one field trip?) or for civic-related duties, i.e. doing the superhero thing. (And guess what? For the past two weeks, invasions by zombies and alien monsters have been down by 60%.)


At first, I got kind of bored because Ryan had a lot of homework and I didn’t, so I’d sit in his room and watch him – which wasn’t boring, boring – I just can’t stand to sit still with nothing to do for long. I probably drove him crazy with, “How much longer?” But after a few days his schedule let up and we got to spend some time together.

Being grounded isn’t such a bad thing when you’re grounded with your boyfriend.

I think we've explored every little hidden nook and hidey-hole in the house. It's HUGE! And it moves things around on you somehow (I think it operates on a quantum level) so that you get lost sometimes (like when you really don't want to be) and found other times (like when you really don't want to be), but it makes just walking around exploring the place an adventure. There's this really nice garden area, with trees and grass and big rocks for sitting on, and we spent a lot of time there, just talking about stupid stuff and serious stuff and stuff in between. And sometimes, we didn’t talk about anything, which was even better.

Like right now, I’m supposed to be meeting him at the pool. (I’m still self-conscious about him seeing me in my bathing suit. Why do they have to cut them so that you either have to always be pulling the top up or the bottom down?) But Ms. Love just paged me to come to the office. I don’t think I’ve done anything to get in trouble for again. But I suppose I’ll find out soon.

((There are corporations in the real world whose methods and ideals are downright evil. If that were not so, there would be no such thing as child labor and pollution so bad it causes entire villages to get sick. Some of them are American companies, and we all buy their products.

There are corporations in business today that run mercenary armies in some countries, and some of their personnel are responsible for attrocities in those countries. Some of them are American companies and we all buy their products.

There is at least one prominent European country where the government's leader is a media mogul with suspected organized crime ties who allegedly controls what is said about his government because he controls all the media in that country.

I'm not saying that all big corporations are bad, nor that all media moguls are corrupt. I'm just pointing out that the concept of an openly evil regime or corporation isn't far-fetched at all, even in the real world.

What's that saying? Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely?

Going back to the fictional land of CoH: You must remember that Paragon City is a place with a wall of energy around it and is considered somewhat of a "war zone" as a whole. It's in a constant state of emergency. As such, it has a sort of separation from the rest of the country so that reports of Crey's wrongdoing coming out of Paragon could be easily spun by a big publicity machine into a non-event, no matter who it is that is criticizing them. (That happens in the real world too.) And it's standard comic book universe proceedure as exemplified by Lex Luthor and Norman Osborne. ))

((Another spot that seems to be a good place to run into roleplayers right now is near the train in Talos. It sees a lot of traffic due to being close to both a base entrance and a Wentworths auction house. I've acutally picked up some random roleplay there lately. I know it's for level 20 characters, but it's not hard to get there from Steel Canyon or Skyway, and as long as you stay near the Green Line/Wentworths area, you're fairly safe.))

((I can see trading between friends. In fact, I have a pretty sweet name I'm holding for a friend for when he gets a chance to play again (new baby in the fam). I'm not going to make him trade me for it though because he mailed me a Question JLU figure for by birthday last year.

But as far as "buying and selling" names like some people have mentioned? Here's why I don't think I'll ever do that.

Quoted from Ask.com:

((Personally, as long as Jack's been gone, I think the name Statesman should be made available. ))

((I laughed. ))

((All right. Seriously. A while back a friend gave me the name Blitz. Awesome name. If I ever give it up, I'll offer it back to him, but that's only because I know him. If I had gotten it off of the name thread, I wouldn't bother asking anyone. If I remembered to do so, I might put it back up on the name thread.

As far as name-trading goes? Bleh. I might trade names between friends, but not like you guys are talking about. I can make up names on my own without paying for them, thankyouverymuch.

My previous post was tongue-in-cheek. Sorry if that by-passed anyone. To me, if I have a name and let it go, it's gone. It belongs to whoever has it after me and if they drop it it can continue on and on and if I want it back, I'll just have to keep checking to see if it's available. Expecting people to hunt me down and offer it back to me is just plain silly.

IMO, the OP has the right idea. ))

((From the Advanced Handbook for Players of MMORGS...))

*Swaggers in late, brandishing a light saber*

Hiyas! May th' force be wi-- Wait... I got th' damn Star Thingies mixed up again ain't I?

Sonofa...

Jus' gimme a beer an' I'm outta here.

Dr. Grace smiles. She's very nice and my exam wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

"You're as healthy a girl as I've ever seen," she tells me.

It's such a relief to hear! Everything I've heard about that Jessie girl and how her healing powers hid her health problems until just the right situation came along and then -- WHAMMO! -- she's dead. Or dying. Did she actually die and come back? I've heard so many versions...

But I'm still worried about one thing, so I ask, "How come I'm not growing? How come I never gain any weight?"

Dr. Grace's pulls up a stool to sit beside me while I put my clothes back on.

She doesn't look worried. She just says matter-of-factly, "I don't know. Your monthly cycle is normal? Regular?"

Oh gosh! Every time she mentions that I just blush! I'm such a little kid about some things! I would have just died if Dr. Grace was a man. I'd have never made it through this. As it is, it's all I can do to nod in answer to the question.

She doesn't acknowledge my discomfort, which is sometimes is the best thing to do when someone is uncormfortable about something.

"I don't think it's a problem," she says, "Maybe you're just going to be petite. It's not a bad thing. And your powers probably use alot of energy -- that's why you're always hungry. So long as you get plenty to eat, you should be fine."

Petite. Blegh. I want to be tall like my sorta sister Dani and leggy like my friend Jo! Petite! Blegh!

"We can experiment with your diet -- maybe you need more carbs and protein -- and see if that helps, but really, I think you're okay."

Well, I guess I'd rather be skinny with powers than curvaceous without them. (Ooooo! That Ms. Liberty! Why does she have it both ways?)

I finish dressing and think that now I can leave, but guess what? No. And I am totally unprepared for what comes out of her mouth next --

"I'd like to talk to you about safe sex."

What!?!

"You're fifteen years old, and alot of girls your age are already active..."

Oh God... strike me dead now, please?

"Um... I'm... going to wait until I think I'm old enough to... um... get married or at least know I'm in a committed relationship and um... be responsible..."

I could phrase it better and more confidently if I wasn't busy looking for a rock to crawl under.

"That's very commendable of you. I'm proud of you that you're taking charge of your own sexuality."

I know she has to have this talk with me. I know Daddy told her to. I want to teleport out of here. I really, really do.

"But sometimes, in the heat of the moment, a woman's resolve can weaken, and that moment can affect the entire rest of your life."

Arrrgh. All right. I will not be able to look at Ryan for the next two weeks. This is just so...

And it gets worse. We talk about birth control methods and diseases and babies. And yes, I listen. I know she's got my best interest at heart. Ms. Love has already gone over most of this with me, except we were walking home from the produce market and she was funnier and not so serious which made it easier to talk with her.

But Dr. Grace is a professional, and she brings up some things that Ms. Love probably wouldn't, so yeah, I listen. And try not to turn red.

When she's done, I go out into the lobby and Daddy's there waiting for me. He gives Dr. Grace this incredibly grateful look, which confirms that he was the one who put her up to the whole birth control -slash- safe sex thing. But how can I be mad at him for it? He's just looking out for me because he loves me.

I stand and listen as Dr. Grace tells him what she told me about my weight non-issues, and she shows him a dietary guide and explains the high-carb diet deal. He looks relieved, but he also looks like he's about to cry.

I realize then how much he loves me. He's been worried also. He's so sick, but worries more about me. He's always been like that, putting me first.

That's when I start to cry. I try not to think about that he's got this terminal disease, that he could die soon...

When my tears start, he lets loose too, which is hard for a grown man to do in the middle of a doctor's office with all these other people around. We hug each other and cry a bunch and pretty soon, other people are sniffling too.

Dr. Grace grabs a box of tissues and passes it around.

So, yeah. That was my day. Like a really good Oprah.

((Aww... shucks. /em blush ))

((It wasn't mine. >:l

I liked the old ones waaaay better.))