Mr_Grey

Well, my apologies, Zortel, I didn't mean any offense by using your thread as my example, it's just that it's been a bit pivotal in regards to how we NA players have felt about the Unionverse threads that keep cropping up.

See, yours was the first that didn't have that UNIONVERSE stamp slapped on it. It seemed friendly and open, and many of us NA Roleplayers jumped on it with the fervor and enthusiasm we usually bring and were dismayed when it dropped suddenly. We didn't know it was meant to be lighthearted and fun (a psychic whale trying to kill a bunch of people on the beach, of course we'd be a little overzealous...).

It was also the LAST to not have a Unionverse stamp. The European threads since then have all been Unionverse and GG's Skirt-related, so the rest of us NA Players just kind of frown at them and go "Alright, I guess that's their thing..." and move on to something else. We see those stamps and think that, since we haven't had anything to do with the events leading up to them, anything we contribute will be little more than commentary.

We've felt a little put off, to be honest. I know I have, at least. It was like we were given one chance to mingle and the rest of you guys have been terrified of involving us again. I'm not saying that's how it was (this thread is doing a fine job of clearing that up), but this section certainly seemed to have remained staunchly divided between Europeans and North Americans with the two sides ignoring one another (except in a few rare instances).

There's really no sense to this argument anymore.

I mentioned once that the amount of threads where players complain about bad teams and go "Okay, so I was playing on Freedom..." and the next five posters quote that and go "There's your problem, right there..." have nearly dropped to nothing (this thread notwithstanding).

Something happened that caused a major shift in the behavior of the server, so I would have to agree with Wolfie, the jerks have nearly vanished. I suppose losing the ability to dope teams (like one would dope a race horse) to reap massive rewards without really playing for them has been ripped and gutted from the game in a surprisingly elegant fashion. Either the talentless jerks have disappeared, or they've learned to better themselves and play the game.

Yes, there are still a few stragglers. Yes, they are all over the game. However, they're now an even more minor part of what is still a surprisingly fun and entertaining adventure. We'll all have our rough moments, but this is hardly the sort of issue that should cause us to condemn any one server.

Mm, indeed, Devious. That's one thing I forgot about...

You guys have Unionverse and Galaxy Girl's Skirt, we have the Whitmoore Apartments, Blakmoore Safehouse (R.I.P.) and Chateau Rouge. Essentially similar concepts, in that there are a large number of players contributing to long, over-arching storylines.

However, the styles remain different. Techbot Alpha made a good point, in that we make a heavier use of "GMing," where the player who introduces the plot usually directs the events.

My one stint with European roleplayers, however, I was surprised when the events were set in motion and the major NPC (a large, psychic orca that was trying to obliterate the beach-goers) seemed to simply stop in mid-air while the players rained blows upon it. The initial presenter of the concept even utilized their own characters, but was no longer piloting the creature they'd let loose upon the roleplayers. I thought this was a little odd.

While I liked the character-driven approach, I feel there needs to be a little more control or at least a little more "NPC Behavior." If the focus remains on just the players without mention of the world we live in, then we just become a bunch of talking heads, ranting and raving about how great and incredible we are.

Grey's Army

And I continue the arc that made me feel uneasy when it got to this point. Roland's new relationship has Kip in an uproar, but the middle Grey sibling has his own concerns as well. While Sheldon Wallace and Nester Durj analyze the hunter's blood, he gets Cortland Simmons to take a look at him through a mystical lens to determine if everything is proper and alright.

Roland wants to be happy. He also wants this to be real. However, in a world like this, such a desire can be unfortunately impractical.

--Kings Row: Grey's Army Base--

The base entry portal seemed to crackle as it spat Kipland out. His eyes were blazing and he looked around, his face contorted into a scowl of rage.

"Where is he? Where the [Hell] is Roland!?"

"He ain't here," James muttered as he flipped through channels on the lounge television, "What are you so ticked about?"

"None of your business, Jimbo-"

"Hey! Don't you call me Jimbo, you midget mother-!"

"What is everybody yelling about!?" Nester's voice hollered from down the hall, "Kip! Get in here!"

The short young man glared into the taller Baker brother's eyes as he walked away. James snarled at him and turned back to the television. Since the day Kip said Grey's Army was going to be training him and the rest of the Brutal Warriors, the agitation between them had been building. It wasn't that James didn't like or respect Kip, because he did, but the attitude the little man kept giving him was starting to get on his nerves.

Kip stomped his way to the medical bay and encountered his brother and Sheldon Wallace. The two young men were looking at him critically.

"I know you're upset about Roland," Nester said sternly, "But that doesn't give you the right to take it out on James."

"Whatever, Nester. Do you know where he is? I need to have some words with him."

"He's out doing errands," Sheldon replied, "And you don't give him enough credit..."

"Of course I don't give him credit! Doesn't he know what kind of trouble he's in? How could he possibly think this is real!?"

Kip was, of course, referring to the recent upsurge in tabloid activity questioning the identity of "Ms. Liberty's new squeeze." It was all he could do to keep from incinerating the newstand with his eyebeams when he saw the blurry paparazzi photograph showing a large man entering her house with a bag of groceries.

"Look, man, Round knows what he's doing," Nester placed his hands on his brother's shoulders to calm him down, "He's seen enough craziness happen to enough people to know enough to doubt what's going on. But... Jeez, man... He's not going to rage against it just because he has his doubts!"

"That's the only way to deal with it, though!" Kip shouted as he batted his brother's hands away, "When you know something ain't right, you cut that [stuff] out of your life!"

"Kip, please," Sheldon sighed, "There are more ways to dealing with life than just your combative philosophy. Roland doesn't have an energy field protecting him from all brands of assault, not like you. He has to research and learn about the situation he's in, which is why he came to see us..."

"What did he see you about?"

"He's got us reading a sample of his blood," Nester replied as he handed his brother a chart, "He wanted us to make sure he wasn't being affected by some kind of chemical agent. His cholesterol level is a little high, but not nearly dangerous, and he's otherwise fine."

"His oxytocin levels are a little high," Sheldon commented, "Studies indicate that it may have something to do with the emotion of love, as well as a other relationship elements... I still need to do some research and see if there's anything abnormal about the numbers."

"Fantastic," Kip smirked angrily at them, "You boys have discovered he's in love. Whoop-dee-[poop]! Well, I'm sure glad Roland's on top of things! It never occurred to him that maybe, oh, I don't know, Ms. Liberty might not be Ms. Liberty!? That sure as [Hell] happened to me with Mynx!"

"I think there are other people who would notice if Ms. Liberty weren't the real Ms. Liberty," Nester retorted, "I'm sure they would have handled it themselves..."

----------

--Galaxy City: Freedom Corps, Freedom Phalanx Headquarters--

Statesman rubbed his temple and turned to Sister Psyche.

"You're sure?"

"Yes!" the psychic heroine shouted in exasperation, "It really is Jessica, and the young man is still the same young man you've spoken to repeatedly."

"I just..." Cole narrowed his eyes and sighed, "It's not like I don't like the kid, but something just seems wrong about this..."

"Is this about that bet with Manticore?" Citadel asked.

"Maybe... I say we give it another week before I start talking to the Icon people about making my uniform pink for a week..."

"I still can't believe you made that wager with him," Psyche gasped, "What would he have done?"

"He said he'd let Carson go wild on his outfit," Statesman chuckled.

----------

--Grey's Army Base--

"I guess you're right, Nester," Kip said darkly, "Still... I'm concerned. When it involves the big names, it can't end well."

"Sure it can," Nester grinned and shrugged, "I mean, come on, Kip! Isn't the point of being a hero that we're paving the way to make it safe for our optimism? Why wouldn't we expect something good to happen once or twice? Why can't we?"

"Because it doesn't happen! Every single time this happens, something comes along to ruin it! Lord Recluse even showed up to ruin Manticore and Sister Psyche's wedding, what do you think will happen if Roland and Ms. Liberty get that far along?"

"With how pessimistic you're being," Sheldon's mouth quirked into the briefest smirk, "I would expect the very gate to Hell to open right underneath them as they enjoy a simple picnic."

"Bite me, Sheldon."

----------

--Atlas Park: Roland's Residence--

It was getting dark when two figures entered the apartment. The larger one flicked the light switch, revealing Roland Grey and his friend, Cortland Simmons, as they walked into the living room. Roland looked worried and Cory shook his head without concern.

"My friend, I'm telling you, there is nothing to worry about..."

"I'm telling you, Cory, I just... I have a really bad feeling about this."

Cory rested his hands on the sofa in the middle of the room and sighed. His large friend had contacted him earlier when he was finishing up some business with "Ye Olde Magic Shoppe" in Talos Island. He was gathering trinkets and artifacts he wanted to bring to the new workshop so he and Matt could tweak the magic motorcycle, Christine. While that could wait, the fact that he was being interrupted over a simple lack of faith was a little irritating.

"Just... Just do that scanning thing you wizards do!" the portly man sighed, "See of there's anything on me or in me or whatever! I want to be sure things are... Things are right!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Simmons clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder and had him take a seat on the couch, "Here, relax. Why are you so concerned?"

"Because... Because I want this to be real, Cory. I want to make sure that there's nothing messing with this. I don't want this to be some plot, I don't want it to be some kind of crazy mind control or spell... I want to be sure that if I'm in love, I'm in love, and not just inebriated on phlebotinum."

"Fle-what?" Cory asked, his eyebrow arching as he laughed.

"Just... Just scan me, man."

The dark-skinned sorcerer nodded and set to work. If he were to allay his friend's fears he was going to have to perform the ritual. He wished Michael White were around, this would have been an excellent learning experience for the artifact-laden magician, but he would have to remember this moment for a future lesson.

He set up some candles and turned off the electric lights. He explained that while the electric lights didn't need to be shut off, sometimes scrying spells caused feedback that caused bulbs to blow when lit. Turning them off didn't make them one hundred percent safe, but it helped.

"If there is something crazy at work trying to use you as a pawn," he said with a smile that faltered a little as he thought just how bad that could get, "You might get to see the lights flicker on!"

"Sometimes wizardry is a lot like science, huh?" Roland asked as he noted his friend's enthusiasm.

"Well, Chemistry, maybe. The rest of science is just so boring... Quantifying what we already know works, just to ignore it all when it comes to trying to quantify things we don't. Sometimes, I see little difference between Science and Religion, you know? Both can just be so dogmatic and contradictory to themselves..."

"I've run into plenty of magicians who have the same problem," Grey muttered, "I'm sure you've run into Gregor Richardson."

"Insufferable man... Even Matt knows you can't be certain what magic will do when applied to a situation, even through artifacts. Sometimes certain energies, elements and origins react chaotically, and that's what makes magic stand apart from science. You mix two chemicals of particular amounts together, it doesn't matter how many different places you get the chemicals from, they will always blend the exact same way. Magics, however, they keep something from their homelands and their wielders, and it makes different combinations react in strange ways, ways you can't always predict."

"Well, that's not the why I was expecting... I always figured magic did what it wanted for the given moment."

"Oh, it's not the only reason why. Chaos is just a major element of magic. It makes things... Interesting. So, yes, it does what it wants is a good description of the situation. I mean, it's not really magic fire I throw, just enchanted fire. The fire is still fire, but the production of it and the enchantment on it that makes sure it only hurts my foes and not my friends are both the end result of coursing the magic through my body carefully and skillfully to articulate them. If the magic weren't there for me to work with, well... I would slightly be at a loss. Alright... Now hold still..."

Cory started muttering and closed his eyes. Roland sat still and kept his breathing even as the ritual commenced. After a few minutes of waiting, Cory opened his eyes and his eyes were glowing blue.

"Let's... see..." he said softly as he looked the portly man over.

Without the magic sight of a scry, Roland looked like anybody else. Through the enchantment, however, he (much like every other hero in the city, regardless of origin) lit up like a Christmas Tree.

Throughout his few years of working as a hero in the city, Roland had a lot of residual magic built up in his body. Most of the threads of enchantment were degraded and useless for anybody who would want to bother with manipulating him. Others appeared to be severed in half, as if a spell used on the man was interrupted before it could be completed. Considering the fact that most of them looked like the holding spells the Circle was fond of, this was probably a good thing.

For the most part, everything seemed fine. Roland was just like most every other hero in the city. He regularly used the devices and items that regenerated his flesh and reinvigorated him, just as he accepted enchantments that protected or empowered him.

Just as Cory was about to shut down the scry, he saw it. It was a strange enchantment, a loose thread that dangled, yet it permeated the glow that surrounded his friend. The wizard stood and traced it with his finger. It was a pink and light blue ribbon of energy, and it was thin and flimsy. It was surprising that an enchantment like this had even lasted a few minutes, much less stuck around in a kaleidoscope of energy like this.

Yet here it was, and it wasn't just a stray thread. The thread was just something he noticed as it wafted toward the couch and tried to merge with the comforting enchantment in the fabric. The rest had wrapped about Roland, stitched itself to him, and clustered around the heart of his soul like...

"Cupid's Arrow!" Cory shouted in shock as he stumbled and his eyes returned to normal.

Roland chewed the inside of his lower lip as he frowned and blinked before responding "So... I guess that's bad?"

Also from Dog Soldiers...

*Private Spoon beats the Hell out of a werewolf with his bare hands and anything he can find in the kitchen. Just as he's about to deliver a coup de gras with a cast iron frying pan, another werewolf bats it out of his hand and pins him to the wall by his wrists. Private Spoon looks around the room, noticing a third wolf and the one he'd just beaten to a pulp closing in.

Private Spoon: *glaring at the one holding him to the wall* "I hope I give you diarrhea, you f***ing wimp!" *spits in the wolf's face*

Seriously, that movie rocked. Normally, people get slaughtered by werewolves/aliens/vampires/etc., even the soldiers. In this, the soldiers actually stood half a chance and they battled with everything they had.

This example Hyper's providing is indicative of the lack of heart one is likely to find on the other servers. Even some of the most bizarre or simple-minded players here on Protector have more heart than what Hyper ran into.

Dog Soldiers

Sgt. Wells: "Where's Private Spoon?"

Pvt. Cooper: *fishes in a pile of gore and pulls out a watch they recognize* "There is no Spoon."

Rocks the house on KJSR!

I read very fast, Kyo

Penny Arcade
Dominic Deegan
Sluggy Freelance
Jolly Jack's Collected Curios: Sequential Art
Least I Could Do
PvP
Questionable Content
Sinfest
Saturday Morning breakfast Cereal
Rock paper Cynic
Something Positive
Starslip Crisis
Real Life
Wapsi Square
Applegeeks
Ctrl+Alt+Del
Deranged Comics
Order of the Stick
Freefall
Girl Genius
Gunnerkrigg Court
Little Gamers
Looking for Group
Megatokyo
Nuklear Power: 8-Bit Theater
Rob and Elliot
Striptease!
Theater Hopper
Three Panel Soul (the comic from the boys who did Mac Hall)
What Happens Next
The White Board
Menage a 3
xkcd
Brat-Halla
Antihero for Hire
Locus
Exiern
Chain of Descent
Zap!
Wandering Ones
The Zombie Hunters
Eerie Cuties
Plush and Blood
VG Cats
Edible Dirt
Dresden Codak

And there's my typical reading list.

Of course not! Why should things get simple just as they're getting interesting?

--Note: I'm not implying things haven't been interesting thus far, but the momentum certainly doesn't seem to be slowing down.

And of course we're still reading! This is good stuff!

Gangs of New York

Bill Cutting: *about Priest Vallon* "He was the only man I killed worth remembering."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH !

*gasp!*

Fantastic stuff, as always, but-

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH !

Santa Draw's is in the house!

And I don't care what you say, Wolfie, I'll keep giving you crap about your character names! I just can't come up with something funny for "Sabal Baenrae."

I'll be making Sheldon Wallace into Riff from Sluggy Freelance.

Another year passes, yet the Kitten is not yet a Kitty.

Happy birthday, Kyo.

May your family not irritate you too much...
May the embarrassing stories be of others...
May the turkey be moist and succulent...
May the weather be warm and comforting...
May the drink be plentiful and refreshing...
May the food stains be less than permanent...
May your siblings' kids be cute and barely annoying...
May the night be full of fond memories...
May you all have a great Thanksgiving.

My Beautiful Misery continues!

Malaise leads Cheryl and Calvin Scott to the laboratory where the interdimensional devices are being manufactured. Unfortunately, the word is out that something's wrong in Opposite Land, so he has to deal with the sudden upsurge in robots patrolling the streets.

What follows is a series of events dealing with what Malaise is willing to do to get his charges out of Praetorian Earth without coming into direct conflict with the Main Cadre.

He's the one who hands out switches to parents to beat their naughty kids, right?