Heronator

When I saw what would be in Issue 12 this morning, I started laughing joyously. You know, the kind that gets louder and louder and louder...and I almost collapsed into tears. I thought there wasn't going to be much in this issue! A faction at level 10! Being able to be Arachnos operatives! Not to mention a chance to really time travel (where we'll probably get to do something with the Well of Furies or Incarnates).

This simply continues the streak of awesomeness the devs have had going with the issues.

((Just a little something for a great man))

The scratching of pencil, the rolling of dice
Bull rush, sneak attack, quick, cast wall of ice!
We have fun with this game; we all get a kick

May all of your hits be crits

The Saturday game, just like before
We sweep for treasure; we bust down the doors
Our pally and rogue even throw the same old fits

May all of your hits be crits

But something seems wrong; there's something not right
We overcome challenges with magic and might
Even though something's off, we still scored a hit!

May all of your hits be crits

Something's just off, there's something askew
Like a 5 by 10 tunnel with a gelatinous cube
The world's just less fun without you in it

May all of your hits be crits

Even though you're not here, you're not really gone
You're still in our hearts, and the game must always go on
We'll always remember your charm, smarts, and wit

May all of your hits be crits

And so, we say goodbye, even though we don't want to
Everyone has their time, we know it's something you must do
And one day, us too, and we'll sit right beside you
And you'll run our campaign, much better than I do
And that day, good sir, I'll turn 'round right to you
I will plead, and ask, “Please, no spike filled pits.”

May all of your hits be crits

And with a sly smile, and a gleam in your eye
You'll respond, “Reflex save, DC 20 give it your best try!”
Nat 1, my result, face up on my die
I ask, “May I at least know my character's demise?”

A shrug of your shoulders, you laugh and say “Might as well”
“Not a pit, a spiked ceiling, and a reverse gravity spell”
“Your character is impaled on the ceiling from hell!”

The air is tense, what happens now?
Am I angry? Enraged? Will a fight go down?
But I laugh, as do you, and for my dice, I do reach
I hold out my hand, “Hey, pass me another sheet!”
The game moves full swing
With all calling their saves and hits

May all of your hits be crits

I'm a D&D nerd of the younger generation (my dad started me out on 3rd edition in 6th grade), and I, unfortunately, never got to meet him. However, I will mourn his passing; D&D has been one of the biggest influences on my life, only slightly overshadowed by comic books. I would be far less a person today had he never made his wonderful game.

Goodbye, Sir Gygax. You are gone, but never forgotten.

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However, our highest priority is to ensure that the quality of all new content being brought to the game meets and exceeds your expectations.

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If I knew I was going to be addressing forum readers, I don't think I would make that one of my priorities. If Issue 12 introduced level 60 PvP raid content on the moon soloable by villains with epic archetypes that unlocked customizable power effects while dropping respecifications inventions that allowed you to change your power sets while simultaneously reversed the nipple nerf, forum readers would wonder why there was no big red ball in the first mission, why the evil moon aliens have cooler assault rifles than the players, and why there's no body scaler that allows you to select the number of nipples your body has, all while PLing themselves to 60 and running all the content in one weekend, and then wondering what's holding up Issue 13.

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This post made me giggle incessant;y, the phenomenon most commonly referred to as 'lawling'.

You assume correctly, those last lines refer to the fallen superspeedster.

((This is a poetry piece I submitted in my writing class, we've working on repetition in writing. It's pretty short, but I thought you guys and gals might like to see it. Lemme know what you think!))

Crackle of energy, leaving the barrel. Crunching of metal, pummeled by a thousand fists. Whirlwind, dervish, cyclone of pain, scattering the invaders like autumn leaves. Swords drawn, edged in light. Force fields conjured, portals opened, robots summoned. All burst away, scattered, demolished, lying in defeat amongst the broken landscape. Defeated, beaten, those who would take away his home. A whirlwind of fury, fists flying everywhere, crunching metal, scattering the invaders, those who would take his home from him, those who would blast it to ruin.

Bombs blast, shards fly, piercing, slicing, shredding everything. Screams everywhere, foreign, native, all screaming in pain, pain of conflict. Blood flows, red, green, mixing, pouring from gashes, slashes, stubs, from the remains of the dead. The dead, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, siblings, children, parents, family, friends, neighbors, losses insurmountable, losses on both sides.

Crackle of energy, flying through the air. Burning, searing, destroying all it touches. A thousand fists fly and fall flat. The whirlwind unraveled. A son who won't see his mother. A soldier who has lost the battle. A father leaving behind his children. A friend, neighbor, confidant, who falls amongst the nameless dead. The invaders slay the whirlwind. The ruins swallow the remains, the remains of the dead, blood mixing, red and green, blood of both sides, losses on all parts. Two sides of the same coin.

*Before Psyche & Manticore's wedding*

Statesman:"You know, Shalice, this may be your last chance for a little 'Super-Something', if you know what I mean" *wink wink*

Sister Psyche: "Uh...Marcus....where did your pants go?"

Statesman: "Damned if I know! Let's party!" *chugs a beer and yells like a fratboy*

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Unfortunately, as a minor, I was unable to go to the Meet n' Greet. However, after looking over the picture galleries and articles there is but one thing I must say:

Sexy Jay, the only thing sexier than your costume designs, is that Jolly Roger belt buckle.

EDIT: Forgot to add, Ghost Widow is also very sexy.

((God damn, this thing moves fast! No second post yet, probably tomorrow, though.))

Gun shots echoed throughout the ruined Skyway office building, as a group of soldiers shot at the few remaining entrenched Council soldiers. The entrenched Council darted out from behind makehift cover, firing a few shots at the uniformed soldiers, before hiding again, and pair of Galaxy soldiers took potshots at the invading soldiers with nictus energy.

The non-Council soldiers stood head to toe in body armor, kevlar vests, high-impact plastics, and the like. The squad of six fired relentlessly at the Council troops, while a thin man stood behind the six-man squad, manipulating controls on a bracer he wore on his left arm.

The man also wore body armor, with a few pieces of a Vanguard uniform as well, a belt, gloves, boots, shoulders, and eye piece. He stood at 6"4", very tall and thin, and had a long black cape. He pressed a few controls on the bracer, which slid away under a Vanguard glove. The man reached into a Vanguard tactical belt around his waist, and pulled out a grenade, which he threw at the Council troops. They scattered, their cover blown to bits, and the soldiers quickly gunned them down. One of the soldiers was shot, lying on the ground, slowly bleeding. The thin man stood over him, surveying him from under the Vanguard mask. He withdrew a small syringe, injecting the soldier, who spasmed for a few seconds before falling silent. The thin man reached behind the dead soldier's head, pulling a small device the size of a thumbnail, off the back of his neck.

The remaining five soldiers all stepped down onto one knee as he walked by them, as though he were a monarch. He approached a Council soldier, pinned under a metal crate.

"Hold still," the man said, bending down to the Council trooper, "Struggle will get you nowhere."

The Council soldier spat at him, coughing a little blood, "You cannot stop us. The Council is eternal. Even if you kill us, others will take our place!"

The man shook his head, "You misunderstand my intentions. I spoke not of the Council, soldier..." He placed the device on the back of the neck of the Council soldier, whose body spasmed for a few seconds, before looking back up at the man who kneeled above him.

"Orders, sir?"

The man nodded, "Change your uniform. Replace it with the one on my....previous minion." He nodded to the other soldiers, "Get this crate off of him."

The thin man stepped outside the building, while his soldiers worked inside to their orders. He pulled out a small comm unit, opening a transmission feed to The Bastion.

-----

Flagstone's comm unit went ringing, and he picked it up, turning away from the scene that had just occured, "Flagstone here."

"General Mindbane, Flagstone. The outpost has been terminated. We will be en route, once we've recieved our...compensation."

-----

Flagstone nodded his head, "Good. Bring back anything else unusual you find. I'll alert the others to let them know you're coming. It'd be a shame if they tried to shoot you down."

-----

"That it would, sir. Mindbane, out."

General Mindbane's squad came out of the building, with the Council soldier now dressed in his new heavily armored uniform. He held out a small, balck piece of metal, "The Impervium, sir. It was coated in paint, an attempt to disguise it by my former comrades."

Mindbane smiled, as the other soldiers also held forth various bits of technological devices, "Wonderful. I will set up an intradimensional stream, and we will be back at Bastion in no time. Flagstone is altering his operatives."

He took the Impervium and the other devices, storing them in various pockets on his uniform. He kneeled down on the ground, placing a small, brownish-gold device on the ground, with colored LEDs that begun to blink, slowly increasing in speed.

"Transport formation!" He yelled, and his squad gathered around him, "T-minus 20 and counting!"

In a flash of light, the squad and the device disappeared from the streets of Skyway City.

----

Flagstone ended the transmission, putting the comm unit away in his pocket. He turned towards the others gathered there, "We have an operative and his squad arriving soon, most likely via teleportation. Make sure you don't kill him when he arrives."

Man, I just listened through my archives of City fo Stories, and I remembered how awesome this story is. Give us some more whenever you've got it, Ascendant!

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One thing that I hope comes about from this...

Some actual advertising.

While I don't want CoX to hit WoW numbers (and the associated increase in jerks:non-jerks ratio), it would definitely be nice to see some fresh blood.

Things like Who Wants to be a Superhero and Heroes are so obvious venues for a TV spot or something. "Hey, you're watching superheroes, why not play one?"

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Yep. Just...don't market to teenagers. PLEASE.

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Why? That's how I found out that this game existed.

A City of Heroes advert in my monthly copy of MAD Magazine. Best buying decision I've ever made.

Do you have something against teenagers? Do you think we all act like how Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny did on the WoW episode of South Park?

Granted, I don't have a main character that others could use as an in-game reference point, but you could, say, look back through my posts to see how teenagers are largely NOT what the stereotypes suggest.

((That one with Hardcase was awesome! And the first as is good as ever!

The public yearns for more! You can feel my yearning! FEEL IT!))

Nanospectre sat down, cross-legged on the concrete. He looked across at the other two heroes with him, and sighed heavily.

"Well, who's up for rebuilding the entire social structure of the planet?" Nanospectre said jokingly, trying to lighten the tension. The smile faded from his face, and he looked as if he was deep in thought.

"We are going to need more than the three of us, even if our only goal were to reconstruct the city around us. We are going to need lots and lots of help. I don't suppose either of you happen to have a particularly large list of friends?"

((Alright, I felt like writing a story, so here we go. Presented in multiple parts for the best creative flow. Feel free to leave any thoughts you have!))

Part One: Nocturnal Struggle

The streets of Kings Row were dark, especially for a city. The back alleys were almost completely dark, swallowing up all light and hope that was unfortunate enough to come across them. The night was silent as well, the city itself almost asleep. A strangely peaceful night for Paragon City, especially for King’s Row, the slum of the city.

A heavy breathing could be heard through the silence, frantic and quick, like that of a wild animal backed into a corner. A young man, no more than 19, leaned against a brick wall, in a dark alleyway. He was tall and somewhat muscular, wearing red leather, a bandana over his face, carrying a pistol in one hand, and a stolen purse in the other. He was a Hellion, and he was scared. His eyes were shifting and darting, and he jumped at every shadow as if it would entangle and kill him. The young thug sat down on the ground, his back up against a brick wall.

He rested, breathing heavily still, and chuckling to himself. “Shoulda known better. Heroes always give up the chase if you try hard enough.” The Hellion hit himself in the forehead, and leaned back, tilting his head skyward, just in time to see a cloaked figure descending upon him from a rooftop, hands outstretched like a jungle cat going in for the kill. If the thug hadn’t repositioned himself, the figure would have broken his neck. Instead, the thug just had a pair of broken knees.

He screamed out in pain, but was silenced as the figure stuffed a rag in his mouth, and quickly bound the thug up. The man was tall, standing at 6’3”, wearing a long, V-Cut black leather trench coat. He wore nice leather shoes, fingerless biking gloves, a fedora, a pair of aviator sunglasses, black slacks, and a bandana over his face. His hair was also a bright white, almost assuredly not naturally.

The man bent over the tied up Hellion thug, and spoke, quietly, softly, slowly, and calmly. “I am going to remove your gag. If you scream, a six inch long piece of galvanized steel will be lodged in your voice box, and a second will be in the process of destroying your left kidney. Understand?” The thug nodded slowly, as he lay sobbing on the ground, from a mixture of pain and unbridled terror. The man slowly removed the gag, and the Hellion remained silent. He looked up at his captor, his eyes asking the question he dared not say aloud, “Why?” The figure sat on the ground across from the Hellion, and began to speak a second time. “Now, listen carefully. Flamebroiled, your cell leader, recently received a large shipment of magical artifacts, from an Outcast named Lightningstrike. The two must have had some contact before, and I want Lightningstrike’s location.”

The Hellion started to sob uncontrollably, “I don’t know, man! Flamebroiled don’t tell us nothin’! We just spread the shipments, and collect the payments! I don’t know where he’s gettin’ the stuff!”

The man stood up, fully upright now. “Well, that is a terrible loss, I must say. I was truly hoping I would not have to do this. Rest assured, I wished to avoid this as much as you certainly will in the next few minutes.”

The Hellion’s eyes widened, “What, what are you doin’ man?! Lemme go!” The Hellion struggled, but to no avail. He couldn’t escape the bindings, and the tall man dug through his belt, until he pulled out a small hypodermic needle, filled with a strange liquid, that glowed softly.

The figure turned towards the thug, speaking very matter-of-factly, “Positronic Biodegradation Serum. Now that the old rad suit has a biological structure again, you would be surprised at how easy it is to process his cellular structure into something useful.” The figure bent over, and injected the contents into the Hellion. He continued on his matter-of-fact explanation, “a slightly radioactive liquid that is especially harmful to organic tissues. First thing to go will be the neural functions. Nervous system will go haywire as well, causing spasm, and a lot of pain. Higher brain functions will degrade, senses will dull, logic and commonsense eroded, memories gone as well. Eventually the muscle will also atrophy, particularly the voluntarily controlled ones. Bone density will decrease drastically; skin will flake and shed constantly, not to mention the sores all across the body. You will eventually suffer from asphyxiation, as your lungs will be the first thing to fully go, and you will not be able to breathe.”

The figure crouched down low, near to the Hellion’s face, who was near passing out from fear at this point, “Unless, there should happen to be something you might remember about Lightningstrike? Hmm?” The figure said, waving another needle full of a clear liquid in front of him.

“Alright! Flamebroiled said somethin’ about Lightningstrike’s hideout! I pretended to not hear, but he’s hidden out in the old paper mill here in King’s! NOW PLEASE DON’T KILL ME.!” The Hellion shouted at the top of his lungs, desperately trying to avoid a gruesome fate.

The figure rose to his feet, and he spoke again, “Sorry, I have not deciphered the antidote yet. This needle is filled with saline solution.” He put the needle away in his belt, and reached in another pocket, “But, since you were so kind and helpful, I CAN offer a swift and much less painful death.”

The man bent down again, holding a .45 magnum, loaded with a single bullet, pointed at the Hellion’s temple. “Would you like to make a final statement?” The man asked, sounding sympathetic, as though he had nothing to do with the situation.

The Hellion closed his eyes, and tears welled up in the sides of his eyes. He spoke very quietly, “I’m sorry, Mom.” The man, under his mask, smiled, “Good answer.”

Neighbors awoke to the sound of a gun shot. The Hellion thug lay in the alley, his world slowly fading to black, as blood rapidly flowed out of a rather sizeable hole in his temple.

Yeah, I live in Palo Alto, and I felt it too. Rocked my apartment building.

EDIT: ((First post after a red name, and both of them have been after Ex!))

Nanospectre flew behind Tegra, able to keep pace to dark cloaked man. "I was simply cracking a joke, Tegra. But you are right, we should move into a defensible position, No telling when the next riot or Nemesis Army re-invasion will march through."

He turned towards Target Lad, "Yes, many heroes from your world have come here, trying to free us from the yoke of Nemesis Rex. I've aided many personally, I'm a bit of a, " Nanospectre paused for a second, "freedom fighter, here on my world. All the others seemed to have no trouble returning home after they clashed with Nemesis Rex, but please feel free to stay as long as you wish. We need every available hand here if we ever wish to restore order."

As the group flew, Nanospectre released a few shots of negative energy, hitting the stray rioters and thugs, stopping them in there tracks. It was obvious he was experienced at this, and was quite a somber figure.

Nanospectre saw a small platform near the side of a building, which looked to be easily defensible. "Here's a good spot." He said, landing on the small outcropping of concrete.

Nanospectre wasn't surprised to see yet another inter-dimensional traveler. The beings from the place called "Primal Earth" had a habit in mucking with the affairs of other worlds, including this world. Nanospectre had even worked with quite a few of them, while he worked to help topple Nemesis Rex.

"I'm Nanospectre, and he," Nanospectre gestured to the black figure, "is a stereotypical mysterious figure." He turned back towards Target Lad, "I take it you are another 'Primal Earther'? We could definitely still use your help. I don't know how fast news has spread, but Nemesis Rex is gone, and he no longer holds dominion over his empire."

Nanospectre looked forlornly over the twisted remains of Steel Canyon, "But, as you said, the world without him is not much better. We're having a tough time re-establishing law and order."

Nanospectre looked more than a little horrified at the mysterious man's methods, but he quickly shook it off. Nanospectre spoke to the man garbed in black, "Well, who else would come out of the woodwork after the fall of the 'glorious' Nemesis Rex? Their kind always waits in the shadows until they see an opportunity."

Nanospectre suddenly realized how his comment could be interpreted, "Present company excluded."

Nanospectre turned towards the figure, "Now, I wouldn't suppose it would be too much to ask for an introduction? At least to know who so graciously took care of that Shocker for me."

Very interesting concept. I hadn't really thought about how some of the demons in other worlds would function in CoX.

And yea verily, bring more Netharak.

((This is my first time starting a forum role-play, so please be gentle, if I make mistakes.

This is a role-play that takes place in the dimension of Nemesis Rex, where one of the Prussian Prince's plots succeeded, and he took over the world! However, after multiple attempts from heroes of out dimension, Nemesis Rex's rule has finally been broken, and the Empire of Brass has fallen. The world has been thrown into chaos, as the entire government collapses. Nemesis Army only controls small pockets, but has stabilized them. Metas of all kinds are trying to fill Rex's power vacuum.

Characters can be natives of this dimension, or dimensional travelers. They could be independent, affiliated with Nemesis, or affiliated with some other group. And feel free to have powers that don't follow the normal rules. Most importantly, have fun, and try to not rip this thread to pieces! Hope I don't dotoo crappy of a job.))

Paragon City was decaying, one of the places hit hardest by Nemesis' downfall. Nemesis Rex had made Paragon his capital city, converting the whole city into brass structures, making it look much different to inter-dimensional visitors. But, now it even looked strange to the natives, buildings toppelled, giant fires, everyone scared, afraid of what the next day might bring.

But, one man just sat, watching the devastation. He sat on a ledge, of one of Steel Canyon's few remaining skyscrapers. His mechanical suit hummed quietly in the dawn air, as he watchedthe sun rise. His brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, his head the only part not encased in high-tech machinery.

This man was a scientist, named James Siron. He was better known by his nom de guerre, Nanospectre. He would be considered a hero, on a normal world, but here, he was a revolutionary and insurrectionist, a social troublemaker. He had developed a high tech nanosuit, that could store the ectoplasmic residue left behind from ghosts and spirits, such as the Spectral Pirates of Port Oakes. It utilized the residue to generate ghost-like effects, such as flight, phasing through solid matter, and manipulation of dark matter from the Netherworld.

Nanospectre drifted down towards the ground level, spotting a few Outcasts trying to take advantage of the situation, and steal a family's food.

A blasts of necrotic energy hit a Shocker and he hit the dirt, hard. The Block and Freezer looked up, obviously frightened.

"I believe you will put the food down, and go away quietly." Nanospectre said, in as a commanding voice as he could muster. The mutant thugs did as he said, running back to whatever hole they crawled out of. Nanospectre couldn't help much with the situation, but he did what he could.

((And unlike others, my intro fits in one post.))

Just something that I've been wondering ever since I read this: any reason you're using Warcraft background (sargeras, burning legion, and all that)?

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If I do not get to beta test this, there will be more than a few deaths.

That is all.

I just wanted to throw my two cents into this:

Something I haven't seen (strangely) that would tie into time travel is a repeatable respec. Some sort of time travel task force that allows you to alter your own past.

I think that the Nemesis theory is pretty sound, which is exactly why I believe it and exactly why I hope to god it isn't true. I have nothing against Nemesis, understand, and I'd be happy if he was doing some temporal shenanigans, but I really want to be surprised when this comes out, and to have it come from an angle absolutely no one was expecting.

However, I think I11 will contain the following: Repeatable Respec, Flashback (possibly under a different name), Nemesis messing with time, and the two new powersets.

While I don't expect it, it'd just be groovy if the villain EATs got in there.

Arctic, I've always enjoyed the stuff you've done for CoX. I remember even getting to talk to you one time in-game on test (I was playing Kinetic Archer). All I can say is:

Go. Hunt. GL at your new job.