Heroid

*Jesse Ventura walks in, reads thread...*

You mean in the United States of America, people would manipulate a virtual market like they do the real ones, driving up prices and selling short and leaving everyone else holding the bag, while they sit back and rake in the influence!?

City of Heroes? I think not! Sounds more like City of Conspiracy to me!

What? You mean you want to genericize me? A former governor of Minnesota? Not on my watch!

*Jesse Ventura stomps out on a tarmac to board a private jet.*

Announcer: When we come back Governor Jesse Ventura takes the fight to Mountain View, California, where he confronts the secret architects behind the AE/Consignment Conspiracy.

((Here's my suggestions -- and I'm checking availability before posting them.

Clockwork Witch
Enigmetallica
Conjurebot
Witchclock
Mechawitch
Mecha Witch
Technocaster
Magechine
Chrome Crone
Tik-tok Witch
Tick-tock Witch

And last, but not least...
Tinwitch

Good luck! Hope you find something that makes you happy! ))

I’m not sure if I’ve been in Gen’s apartment for two days or three now. Maybe it’s four. Cat time is different from human time. In fact, with cat time, the progression of the day, as far as, “What time is it? Oh? It’s that late? I’ve got so much more to do!” doesn’t matter as much as, “What time is it? Oh? Naptime? Good!” or, “What time is it? Oh? It’s time for the Deli man to empty his waste bin?” Those are the times that matter to a cat. Those, and twilight and midnight – times that are important to all creatures of magic. And make no mistake, cats are creatures of magic.

When Irmina comes in to clean this morning (Irmina is the cleaning lady of course), Gen is stretched across the sofa, asleep. Her legs, scarcely more than bones wrapped in the wrinkled brown paper of her skin, are covered by a crocheted throw. Gen sleeps on the sofa like that more than she sleeps in her bed. I think it is because the record player is in her living room and she likes to listen to music before she goes to sleep.

Her stereo is one of those big ones like they used to make, like everyone probably had back in the old times, with all the components – speakers, radio, turntable – encased in a wooden cabinet that stands off the floor on curved legs that end in what looks like brass catpaws. The old speakers wouldn’t stand up to the thump thump of a modern rock/rap band, but for the sweet strains of Scheherazade, they do rather nicely. Though the turntable stops turning automatically when the stylus reaches the end of the final groove of the vinyl, the electronics remain on until turned off manually. This means the transistors constantly remain warm. I find the carpet beneath the stereo to be a rather comfortable spot (though not as comfortable as Gen’s lap, but then her lap disappears when she lies down, doesn’t it?) and it is here that I was when Irmina comes in.

I watch her tiptoe past the sleeping mistress of the house, and straight to the end table where sits Gen’s large purse. This isn’t the first time I have witnessed this. She has done the same thing each day that I have been here. Always moving quickly and quietly to get the deed done without waking Gen.

Irmina places a tiny, freshly charged teleportation device in Gen’s purse.

Paragon City is full of super-folk of all stripes. Some of us are independently wealthy and immensely powerful. Some of us have to work for a living and do our crime-fighting in our spare time. But Irmina doesn’t refer to what she does as “crime-fighting”. No, she calls it “world-betterment”. And she does so with an accent that hints of humid Southern nights and deep-fried love.

Irmina is a member of group of powered individuals who call themselves the Salt. I believe it is a Biblical reference, though I don’t know enough about the Bible to be sure, and she never openly espouses any particular doctrine. I do know that she is a good person and that on the rare occasion that Gen’s purse has been snatched from her, Irmina has always managed to retrieve it, though Gen has never known how.

People tell their secrets to animals. It is both a wonderful privilege and a terrible weight to bear.

Irmina places the device then looks at me where I stretch lazily beneath the cabinet stereo and then she places a finger to her lips. It is at this point that I put my legs beneath me and push myself out from my warm and comfy spot. I know that the next step in this dance is a good scritch between my ears and that is well worth stirring one’s self for.
“Prince,” she says softly, as she bends down to reach me, “I don’t know where you came from, but Miss Genevieve surely has taken a liking to you.”

I jump up on the table beside the purse and Irmina straightens up with a small groan of effort.

“Anything ever happens to her, I’m going to take you home with me. The Salt will be happy to have you around. Yes, yes, you will be a spoiled kitty then.”

Actually, I am already a spoiled kitty. You’ll never know how good it feels to have someone scratch the top of your head between your ears until you have lived as a cat. There are few human sensations that compare to it. And don’t get me started about a good belly rub.
Irmina gives me a final rub all the way from my ears to the tip of my tail, then leaves me to go wake Gen. Gen rises, and the two of them go about the business of cleaning the apartment. Irmina does all the hard work, but Gen does as much as she is able. Irmina lets her, not because she is lazy, but because it is Gen’s apartment and Irmina respects that.
Irmina is salt. Pure salt.

I watch them work for an hour – at one point giving them a good show of pouncing the vacuum cleaner – but when they went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, I decided to take a catnap. I fell asleep to the soft sound of feminine laughter.

As I slept, I dreamed of running through Gemini Park with Miu, chasing squirrels.

I’m not sure if I’ve been in Gen’s apartment for two days or three now. Maybe it’s four. Cat time is different from human time. In fact, with cat time, the progression of the day, as far as, “What time is it? Oh? It’s that late? I’ve got so much more to do!” doesn’t matter as much as, “What time is it? Oh? Naptime? Good!” or, “What time is it? Oh? It’s time for the Deli man to empty his waste bin?” Those are the times that matter to a cat. Those, and twilight and midnight – times that are important to all creatures of magic. And make no mistake, cats are creatures of magic.
When Irmina comes in to clean this morning (Irmina is the cleaning lady of course), Gen is stretched across the sofa, asleep. Her legs, scarcely more than bones wrapped in the wrinkled brown paper of her skin, are covered by a crocheted throw. Gen sleeps on the sofa like that more than she sleeps in her bed. I think it is because the record player is in her living room and she likes to listen to music before she goes to sleep.
Her stereo is one of those big ones like they used to make, like everyone probably had back in the old times, with all the components – speakers, radio, turntable – encased in a wooden cabinet that stands off the floor on curved legs that end in what looks like brass catpaws. The old speakers wouldn’t stand up to the thump thump of a modern rock/rap band, but for the sweet strains of Scheherazade, they do rather nicely. Though the turntable stops turning automatically when the stylus reaches the end of the final groove of the vinyl, the electronics remain on until turned off manually. This means the transistors constantly remain warm. I find the carpet beneath the stereo to be a rather comfortable spot (though not as comfortable as Gen’s lap, but then her lap disappears when she lies down, doesn’t it?) and it is here that I was when Irmina comes in.
I watch her tiptoe past the sleeping mistress of the house, and straight to the end table where sits Gen’s large purse. This isn’t the first time I have witnessed this. She has done the same thing each day that I have been here. Always moving quickly and quietly to get the deed done without waking Gen.
Irmina places a tiny, freshly charged teleportation device in Gen’s purse.
Paragon City is full of super-folk of all stripes. Some of us are independently wealthy and immensely powerful. Some of us have to work for a living and do our crime-fighting in our spare time. But Irmina doesn’t refer to what she does as “crime-fighting”. No, she calls it “world-betterment”. And she does so with an accent that hints of humid Southern nights and deep-fried love.
Irmina is a member of group of powered individuals who call themselves the Salt. I believe it is a Biblical reference, though I don’t know enough about the Bible to be sure, and she never openly espouses any particular doctrine. I do know that she is a good person and that on the rare occasion that Gen’s purse has been snatched from her, Irmina has always managed to retrieve it, though Gen has never known how.
People tell their secrets to animals. It is both a wonderful privilege and a terrible weight to bear.
Irmina places the device then looks at me where I stretch lazily beneath the cabinet stereo and then she places a finger to her lips. It is at this point that I put my legs beneath me and push myself out from my warm and comfy spot. I know that the next step in this dance is a good scritch between my ears and that is well worth stirring one’s self for.
“Prince,” she says softly, as she bends down to reach me, “I don’t know where you came from, but Miss Genevieve surely has taken a liking to you.”
I jump up on the table beside the purse and Irmina straightens up with a small groan of effort.
“Anything ever happens to her, I’m going to take you home with me. The Salt will be happy to have you around. Yes, yes, you will be a spoiled kitty then.”
Actually, I am already a spoiled kitty. You’ll never know how good it feels to have someone scratch the top of your head between your ears until you have lived as a cat. There are few human sensations that compare to it. And don’t get me started about a good belly rub.
Irmina gives me a final rub all the way from my ears to the tip of my tail, then leaves me to go wake Gen. Gen rises, and the two of them go about the business of cleaning the apartment. Irmina does all the hard work, but Gen does as much as she is able. Irmina lets her, not because she is lazy, but because it is Gen’s apartment and Irmina respects that.
Irmina is salt. Pure salt.
I watch them work for an hour – at one point giving them a good show of pouncing the vacuum cleaner – but when they went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, I decided to take a catnap. I fell asleep to the soft sound of feminine laughter.
As I slept, I dreamed of running through Gemini Park with Miu, chasing squirrels.

Burnt Matchstick

Bullet Barrage!

((This one is for the player formerly known as Termial Velocity.))

((I didn't win, but my drawing did get featured in an article on the contest over at geek-news at MTV. ))

http://geek-news.mtv.com/2010/11/30/...-of-the-month/

((Happy Thanksgiving!))

Voting is starting at Superhero of the Month! Be sure to go vote for your favorite Robin!

http://www.superheroofthemonth.com/

Also, next month's contest has been announced!

Wish me luck!

((Happy Birthday! ))

((Wow! Wonderful! Congratulations you crazy kids! ))

((New post up! ))

http://alternautuniverse.blogspot.co...bye-pt-14.html

If you're a fan or contributor to websites such as Project Rooftop ( http://www.tencentticker.com/projectrooftop/ ) then you will probably also like this website:
http://www.superheroofthemonth.com/

There's still time to submit drawings for their first contest (Robin)! Upcoming redesigns include the X-Men's Angel, Black Cat, and Harley Quinn. Unlike some of the other superhero redesign contest sites, winners at SotM will be chosen by the people who visit the website. The prizes are cool too.

I'm in no way connected to Superhero of the Month, except that I have an entry. But I want more competition! So go, read the rules, submit an entry! I hope to see you there!

((Ack! I overlooked that? Wow. Thanks for posting! ))

((Ack! I've been neglecting my own thread!

Anyway, here are a couple of drawings I've worked on over the last few weeks.

First, Stormy Darkness


Next, The X and Shadow Scratcher


And finally, HydroJen


Hopefully there will be more up soon! ))

((Grats! ))

((Baseball playoffs... RL complications... Computer crash...

Sorry I missed TWO WEEKS IN A ROW but...

New post this week! ))

http://alternautuniverse.blogspot.co...bye-pt-13.html

Featuring new Task Force missions!'

Stop the Freaks!
And that's Freaks, not Freakshow! An evil bunch of young good-for-nothings are trying to corrupt the youth of Hicksville with their loud music, weird hair and clothes, and whacky tobaccy! Stop them!

Cattle Mutilations!
Rikti are striking at night and killing cattle after which they leave taunting, alien messages in the form of crop circles! Stop them!

Circle of Thorns Evil Mass!
The Circle of Thorns are meeting at night and conducting evil rites! Stop them -- if you can find them in endless miles of corn and wheat fields!

5th Column Recruiters!
Those super-powered fascists, the 5th Column are openly recruiting in the streets of downtown Hicksville! Stop them before -- hey... um... I think that's the mayor handing out their literature. Oh. Nevermind. Too late for that one.

Carnival of Shadows Lounge!
A circus is pitching its tents on the outskirts of town! It has... women performers! Stop the men of Hicksville from falling into lust as these women in... in... bustiers perform their Godless hootchie koos!

And finally, for the first time in CoH -- vehicles!

((During ToT'ing, has anyone gotten a Lost costume? And if you did, was it John Locke? Hurley? Sawyer? Who?))

((Oooo... I really like that last one! Very pretty! ))

I'm not buying any more of your damned costume packs until you get rid of the de-evolution thing on Secondary Mutation from the Mutant Pack. I don't like paying someone to play jokes on me. It wastes my time and my friends' time if I'm on a team. It's not funny to me, and it's not cute. I could just not use the power, but I PAID for it. I thought the devs had more respect for their customers than that. No company stays in business if they slip little "jokes" into their customer's products. How would you like it if you bought a car that the paint washed off of the first time you washed it just because the manufacturer thought it would be funny?

Boycotting the Origins Pack.