King_Cheetah

The thing about that is if you attack and then hide, they still know you are there.

You have to run out of agro range, so they loose you. Then you can even follow them back and they won't agro.

Just run out of range. Be able to hide in plain sight is what placate is for.

Its like the first predator movie, they saw you AS their friend.. they know you are there even if they can't see you. You must run away so they can't see you. Even if you get hit you can always circle back and get em.

over here... over here...
turn around... turn around...



...anytime.

Okay my memory is bad. But...

Purramedic: Nicest healer/dark dark defender with an upbeat attitude, but horrible luck with pick up trials. Great knowledge base,if not geeky, but one hell of a player!

Spackle: Funniest Healer who eats more dirt then earth worms, and laughs about it. The healer you want in a pinch. or just to talk with.

Polar Catt: Concerned blaster with charm and a cute sense of fun. Better then the average blaster... at least, to play with.

Onus Vox: Huge stoney bug... who forgets names. alot. *poke* ..... =3

Calash: Great tank who thorws himself into everything he does, yet always thinks before acting. Quite soft spoken though.

Texas LongHorne: Hillarious 'big guy' who is absolutly friendly, yet the first to want to stomp a mud hole in baddies. One of the best sense of humors on the entire server.

Darkridum: Smart mouth who pesters you into being a funnier person, but also is one fine player.

Sister Jeanne: A dedicated if not misdirected scrapper who in fact will help anyone and everyone.

Tyrr: FIne scrapper of a man, also one hell of a bubbler. Beware his multi talented playstyle.

PolarisOne: Desperatly great allaround player, quick to help and comment.

TigerClaw: Strong player with a loose sense of urgency about playing, great for casual fun.

Outrage: Loopy scrapper whose fighting style is second only too his sense of wit.

Catnip Crusader: Great fighter and a restless helper who in a pinch... pinches back. Hard.

Deadly Claw: Fast player who gets confused at times, yet means the very best and will turn any glum situation merrier by her presence.

Sheline:Independant scrapper who is always willing to help and smile with a warm way of playing.

SickleBark: Nutty if not lazy (=P) scrapper who scrappes with the best of them. Quite and unknown yet resepctable resource of help.

Matches: Strange yet charming player who constantly helps and asks for help. One of the most generous people you will ever play beside.

Satanic Hamster: One of the best tanks you could ever play with, ...if you wanted to play with him.

Ravonette: A fine controller who will MAKE you believe a controller can solo, and not only solo, bu desimate the oposition.

Captain Dareing: A remarkable defender who helps and while average, is still considered the standard by which all players should excel.

Electric Heroine: Kind lady who tries to help, and even if the situation is hopeless, will still offer to help. A comendable player of heart.

Thats about all I can remember, if I forget anyone, I am really sorry. I am. But I forget I seriously do. I have trouble with names.

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1: hey what about me?
2: stupid we don't exist.
1: we don't?
2: no we aren't real peo-----
1:--------
2:--------
1:--------
2:--------

Ah, sadly… on two counts.

First off, yes it is role-playing. A character can have it in his nature to use ‘pet’ names for anybody and everybody. Such as a British role-player (stereotypically almost) saying ‘sport, love, poppet, bloke, chum, Gov, etc’ or an Australian saying “mate” and what not. Stereotypes I know, but still considered role-playing. Some people even like to use these kind of pet names for “Southern/Cowboy/Western” heroes. So when you ask if this is role-playing the answer IS yes…

BUT

Secondly, there are those people who use role-playing as an excuse. You see them allot in games, people who play evil characters and then are REALLY BIG JACK A**ES, and then remove all blame by claiming to be ‘evil’. These people are NOT role-playing. They are merely venting and abusing other REAL LIVE people because they know they can get away with it. It’s a sick satisfaction most sociopaths enjoy. Beware these people because they know you’re a real live person on the other side and that only heightens the pleasure they get from making fun of you, abusing you verbally, and even sexually hitting on you. So if you ask me if he was role-playing… no that is NOT role-playing.

If you think me harsh, or over the top in my explanations, If you do not believe the level people will go to be jerks, do a web search on “Rape in Cyberspace” and I’ll cite one example with the “Mr. Bungle” Case.

There are sick people out there, nothing prevents them from playing City of Heroes. Watch yourselves people, be safe.

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1: Good lord, you scare people!
2: who me?
1: yes! Look at your post!!
2: .. am I wrong to warn people?
1: … ,no.
2: I want to prepare them, in some small way.
1: yeah…

eh thought this would be a better place to post this. *shrug*

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Well can you really blame people? At their very base humans are a visual animal, we hunt, live, and experience by sight more then anything else; we become reliant on visual information more then deduction. Thus if you play a female character, we automatically say "female" and if you play a male character we automatically say "Male".

The numerous problems include,

1: The Created character vs. the Given character. Most people feel funny actually choosing to make a female, and this make those who simply go with what they have always known uncomfortable, because they ask “Why are you doing something different? Are you a sicko?” This in itself is not something people should worry about, people always go outside of normal conformity when they can. Its our nature… well, at least some of us do. Example. People felt really wired playing with a guy who made a female elf in Everquest, yet perfectly fine with guys who played Lara Croft in Tomb Raider. Its juts an odd Choice vs. No Choice thing.

2: Insecurities with sexuality. This is the whole “hitting on people from the internet” thing, but there are two variations. One, the people who are ‘hitting’ on you do so because they are sexual attracted to your avatar being the opposite sex from them (at a basic level) and they connect Her with the person chatting from Her. They don’t look at the chat context merely the fact a sexy figure is talking and therefore must be a sexy figure making the talking. When this fantasy is decimated by playing a ‘man’ on the other end when there is not suppose to be any ‘sexy figure’ label (for the general male audience anyways) they feel ashamed for being attracted to a man, when in truth they are only attracted to a man’s creation. Like being, attracted to woman in a comic drawn by a man. This in itself is a mistake in the fact they still do not dissociate the Character model from the chat.

The second instance of these Insecurities is the opposite of the above; the person is attracted to the ‘text’ portion of the character. They say without the first impressions, and with the anonymity of the internet a person’s true self is able to shine through when they be themselves. In this case of point, a person looks past the character before them to ‘hear’ what the person is saying. They can find them kind, understanding, and funny, and suddenly they feel they have found someone special. The ‘hitting on but not in a sexual way’ begins and then is suddenly destroyed by the realization “it was a man.”. This does not bring up thoughts of “oh man I’m sexual attracted to a man” but thoughts of “I trusted you and you lied to me.” the problem in this fact, is that no previous trust was implied. That is, the person did not say they where male or female, it was all an assumption by the other person. The person is left feeling betrayed and hurt due to their own folly, as opposite to feeling dirty and wrong by their own folly as above.

***note: I am not neglecting the fact that the gender axe goes both ways, a woman can be attracted to a male model and find out it’s a woman etc.. but for general purposes and trying to keep this post as short as possible (good luck spotty) I have chosen to go with the most general and stereotypical scenario. So no i’m not ignoring you, you are recognized.

3: Stealing the Tank. That is to say ‘abusing power given to you.” These are the people who make a female character relying on the chivalry (or most often sexual weakness in most cases) of men to gain items, influence and favor. They abuse the power of a ‘woman’ and thus give the rest of those who simply wish to play a bad name. Adding more speculation to the ‘why play your opposite gender’. Also in these ranks, are the people who make a female character just to be ‘naughty’. Yes you’ve seen them, female characters with no self respect for themselves. They have bios that talk about how many men they slept with and how ‘ditzy’ they are, and how they just can’t get enough that male :::radio edit chicken::. These are the people who disgust the portion of women who actually play as women, (and men) , who have actual respect for their character and for women in general. This goes back to the whole women as Sexual object argument, which I doubt I need to reiterate. Because if you are a woman, you will know what I’m talking about and if you are a man, you WILL know what I’m talking about. (Yoda squeaks out You will be, you will be….) This is a problem in fact that, you simply can not go through life without a respect for both genders. It is impossible, unless you wish to die a death alone afraid or in a hail of gunfire.(insert posts claiming to want to do just that now)

4. Lastly you have those who don’t care what gender they are, they simply have to pick a body type. These people are caught in the middle of all sides because they are indifferent to sex. They came for fun, (to role-play most likely), to be something they can never be I real life. A Super Hero. Yes, you can put a towel on all you like, and jump from stairs or set yourself on fire screaming ‘flame on!’ but to do it without personal harm, you need an outlet where the world is created for you. Thus, this game was made in the first place. These people look at all the other people and say “What’s your problem? Look I can fly!” and generally are happy as pie they can do so and simply do not care if you think they are male or female. This in itself is okay, but, when you mix every single one of these problems together you get people on all sides looking at the other going. “You… You.. you jerk you! whatever you are!”.

Solutions?

Its not my place to correct everyone’s problem, how would that help you learn? I can’t erase hate, or prejudice, or stupidity. I can only point in a suggested direction. Respect or Ask. If you respect the people you play with for having your same interest and just plain being another ‘person’ who is alive, then you will have no problems. You both will realize mistakes will happen, let it go, and have fun. If you can’t do this then ask. You will however get many varied answer and some you may not like. People will tell you if they chose, or they may leave you in the dark. Either way you will miss out if you chose to be bias.

There is nothing more I can suggest really, except bring up two little things. You know those people who say “If I’m going to stare at a butt for hour might as well be a cute.” Etc etc.. Every time I hear that I imagine people who play souly staring at their characters butt. One would think they don’t look at their keyboard or even at what they are doing because they can not tear their eyes away from their characters’ butt. Sorry it just strikes me as funny, no insult intended. Or was there? Dun dun dun!

Second age. Yes young people play this game, and therefore are not particularly interested in ANY of the above. They simply want to “Bang Pow Kaboom!” Be watchful for them, because they are innocent in the most. They don’t know about sex yet, they just picked their character cuz they looked cool. They can’t play very well, so remember it may someone who just can’t rather then someone playing bad on purpose. You are not alone out there, any of you. The people worrying about adult problems, there are children present. So next time you happen upon one, remember, you’re an adult, this is a video game. Have fun. Or leave them alone. Please?

That’s all for me…………….. why the hell did I write all of this? I’m waaaaay off topic. Oh well, that’s a cat for you, we never really consider the consequences and are easily distrac- ooo hey a I’m hungry. What am I doing here? I need some food! Yummy!

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1: What about you chee’s which one are you.
2: Male, Female… I’m the one with the claws.
1: oh I get it, another Evil dead reference, ah ha ha. Yeah.
2: … *cah-sling*
1: Whoa hey what are doing?!, AUUGGGHHH! SAVE ME BABY STATESMAN!

I supose I'm supost' to post this post here... post humorisly. post..post.

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In a secluded home, far in the mountains, a young man standing six feet two inches, with long dark brown hair and fierce yet warm dark brown eyes sits lazily about his abode. Surrounded by no less then twenty cats, his mother’s joy in life-whether from a loveless marriage and divorce or societies hatred for a single mother it is unknown-she cared for them all equally. This young man a victim of his fathers’ anger and childishness never truly grew to trust men, nor people in general. If there was trouble at school, he was somewhere in the center, usually a victim then as well. If there was trouble outside of school in the therapy sessions, he was center of the attention, negative or confused as it was. There was no peace for this sad young man, except at home; surrounded by cats, who he grew to love and learn from. Cats where independent, never needed anyone, yet enjoyed company and lavished in the finer points of life. There was no hate or suffering in a cat’s world, thus young PauL grew to empathize with, and understand them.

Already labeled a freak in his school, a diagnosis from a psychologist did him no justice either. He was an outcast, shunned for being an unsocial misunderstood innocent child; unable to comprehend the world around him that so hated the strange and different. It did not help that his sexuality was of both sides, yet people only saw the homosexual, the depressed, insane, monster that he had grown to twist into. Defense mechanisms never worked, they only drove him further and further from humanity. Thus PauL’s time was spent well within the conservation field, an appreciation for nature and it’s solitude made him not only a severely determined young man, but one whose fierce eyes now watched over all animal kind. He gained some fame, in conservation circles for his efforts to found the “World India Tiger Reserve”, and increase poaching penalty finds to life and multi thousand dollar fines. The young man who was so silent in life, now had a roar of commitment to the Big Cats and other animals he so grew to understand. This voice however, was not taken without challenge.

Many poaching rings fell in Malaysia, Australia, and Europe before he set his sizeable reputation of the largest of all poaching rings- in Africa. This is where the last was seen publicly of PauL. The leading poaching ring was one of brutal tactics and vast funding from unknown sources; they did not take kindly to PauL’s many attempts to discover their base of operations. While searching in the field PauL was captured and kidnapped, taken to the very lair he tried so hard to find. Like so many other bullies the poachers who resided in greater numbers flaunted their victory, calling him a “Messiah of the Animals”. Their sense of cruelty toward animals was never withheld when dealing with humans. PauL was taken before their leader, a man by the name of “Gun Rack” who spit in his face and spoke of a Hero’s foolish dream to try and stop the greed of the world. Blatantly blaming society for his deeds, because there was always demand, and he was the supply. PauL’s eyes, once fierce, blazed with hatred, yet he spoke only a few words, “Kill to live, never live to kill.” The law of the jungle. Outraged by his defiance, Gun Rack ordered him tortured.

A number of sick minds can do horrid things to a captive audience. Smeared in the blood and the refuse of slain animals, hung in the slaughterhouse for hours, wrapped in barbed wire and freshly skinned Cheetahs there was no limit to their imaginations. They placed bloodied claws into his flesh, and set upon him with whips and needles. They racked him, and threw knifes at his sprawled body, target practice, that sometimes missed… sometimes. They Drug him through dirt and briars on their four wheelers, feed him raw meat, and only allowed him drinks of water form the bladder’s of dead elephants. For six days their fantasies where played out upon the helpless and outnumbered young man. Yet his eyes never faded, and before his tongue was diced, he spoke the same words, “Kill to live, never live to kill.” They battered him with clubs, broke many bones, and turned each finger backwards. They dangled him from steel wire and dropped him again and again into beds of nails and broken glass. Until finally they could think of no more punishments, except one. On the Seventh day they dug a great pit, eighteen feet deep and teen feet wide, placed inside it a battered beaten, barely alive bloody PauL… and set loose a starving crazed Cheetah. Gun Rack himself laughed with glee taunting the broken form of PauL and shouting about being killed by the very thing he tried so hard to protect. The Cheetah was a fine animal, a young female barely two years of age, malnourished and desperate. Her eyes also blazed with hatred beyond words.

The Cheetah closed the distance between PauL and herself at a slow walk, staring into the same brown eyes that mirrored hers. This creature before her was another human, another generic thing who hurt and caused pain, yet she made no move to harm him. Cruelty had dealt both of them blows that would kill, But Fate is not without eyes, and Destiny not without wings. A number of spirits, occupants of the Dream Time watched with silence and great patience, for their task this day was of mercy and knighthood. The Cheetah’s spirit a being of the Dream Time, spoke to PauL’s. Words she shared from all voices, adrift in the nothingness the blind poachers did not see. “…man who is as man before, you see with eyes so clouded and hurt. Yet so clear and sharp with will. You have protected much, and saved many, yet your road does not end this day, your struggle cannot end this mile… you have many paths yet to walk, many paths you must walk. Save them, save them all.” Her name was Sunrunner, and his PauL but on that day. PauL reached with bloodied, arms taking the slim form in an embrace Infused with the genetic makeup of ages, they combined; in spirit and body they became one.
A brilliant flash of light, drowned by the chant of ancient spirit and young spirit, PauL and Sunrunner ceased to be. Now from the ash of lives stood a great beast, a champion, a walker of the Dream Time. Eight feet seven inches of feral fury and blazing ferocity, armed with the speed of lightning, and claws stronger then hate, rose to roar in sorrow for the sacrifice of two to become one. Shocked and awed by the unforeseen miracle, the poachers witnessed the birth of vengeance in one body. The voices grew silent, fading back to the realm of dreams, and Cheetah’s eyes opened. No longer a calm brown, but pure white sorrowful revenge. Their breath leaving them, the poachers could not scream and the Cheetah was upon them.

Gun Rack was the last to fall, escaping as cowards in power do at the quickest opportunity, he jumped into his loaded down jeep ripe with carcasses and ivory, to try and escape the horror he had summoned. His greed caused is down fall, for a jeep so loaded with “riches” could not navigate the harsh lands of Africa. The jeep stalled in a pit of mud, merely two feet deep. Terrified Gun Rack jumped from his vehicle and reached for a rifle, the growls of lions, hyenas, and the cries of vultures tormented him as his run in blind fear led him into the night. Feeling cornered, he stopped in the dark thick brush, squinting into the unforgiving darkness, he heard a growl and fired his full chamber into the night. Narrowly slaying a lion prowling for his panicked heartbeat, sighing with relief, thinking his escape genuine he did not hear the footsteps in tall grass. Ceasing all breath he turned in witness to two pale moons, lurching toward him, a growling voice, repeating with endless spite “Kill to live, never live to Kill.” And then… his life was no more.

The days passed, and police arrived on the scene, discovering the hidden tents, and mounds… mounds of bodies. Half eaten, feasted upon by the owners of the harsh landscape. Their price paid back in blood. The entire ring was destroyed that day, and no poaching ring further has yet dared try to pick up the slack. Rumors began of a great Cheetah spirit that roamed the plains, hunting all who dared kill for sport or simple pleasure. Tourism increased, yet camera replaced gun. Some prayed to this spirit, others cursed it... in whispers where none could hear. Fear turned to legend. And legend into Myth. Some days after the massacre, all poaching dropped in rate by ninety eight percent world wide. Whispers of a demon in spotted form, with eyes blazing white, stealing the lives of men who killed for greed grew. Bedtime stories of a savior to all animals and friend to all children who believed grew also. And for a while it was good.

But trouble never rests, and Fate is not without eyes. Destiny without wings. An invasion of merciless proportions stuck the world as an Alien race known as the Ritiki tainted the world anew. They murdered and killed many, and where there was death, so was their retribution. All across the world people fought them, and once again a great spirit rose from the dry grass of the untamed lands to strike back with claws and fury. Ships where destroyed, forces where decimated, the surge was held back. Clawed upon the ships hulls, with scratches of blood and terror, Aliens wrote in their native langue before their death throws, “Never live to Kill.” As warning or pleas for mercy, it is never known. But their horde was lessened, and they retreated to a city little known. Paragon. A city where crime and murder raised, gangs cruelly robbed and slayed with abandon. Souls where trapped and spirits where tortured. The Dream World took notice, and unleashed their champions. Appearing in Paragon, with eyes ablaze in white, the Unbroken Spirit known only as Cheetah offered his aid.

Scandal and distrust ran rampant with a ‘Hero’ who used claws and fought with such ferocity. Lawsuits where enacted, and people grew afraid, public opinion was distasteful, and Cheetah once again faced the oddity that was Man. Course cases were brought to full trial, and he was thought lost. Yet there where defenders, people willing to look beyond his spotted appearance and see the heart that was molded in sorrow, and try to accept the purring predator with a roaring rage. Tests where hardened, and the rules for hero’s where changed, slightly. A large supporter, Mynx, vouched for anyone regardless of species who wished to help. And public disapproval lessened. Cheetah was allowed to do what he was sent to. Public opinion grew rapidly, and only a few short months, the name Cheetah was said in hope. Desperate to understand those he protected, living by the words of Sunrunner “Save them all.” He tried his best to enact the law he survived by “Kill to live, never live to Kill.” Other heroes where glad to try and teach him. Language was introduced, and expanded upon, though his throat was unable to handle much of it. Ever still he remained a strange, if not welcome, oddity.

Then from the blue, a flying wonder took notice of the newspapers and sought out this “Monster Hero”. She greeted him with purrs of her own, and understanding. Not intimidated in the least by his reputation she looked beyond it and invited him into her group of Heroes. He agreed and his publicity grew thousand fold. Trials and tests awaited him but the months pasted and his popularity grew. The spirits deemed him worthy of another honor, the Wakened Dream Walker’s Form, and forged his soul in iron, protected from the evils surrounding him. Further still he gained trust from the world of science and was forged into a metallic suit for protection for the technology of Man. There is still so much to write, and so many path’s yet to be taken, but Fate it not without eyes, and Destiny is not without wings. Thus from the Wilds emerged…

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1: ever notice how post sound funny?
2: what the word?
1: yeah if you say it enough?
2: post,post,post,post,post,post,post.
1: post,post,post,post,post,post,post.
2: no.
1: .......