Mr_Grey

Yeah. I'm a regular comedian.

I get paid in hot strippers that are willing to do whatever I want. It's the only currency I accept, as such, I rarely get booked.

I'm only asking them to play some DnD with me. You'd think they'd be relieved...

*looks at OP's Reg Date*

Actually, here's some better feedback...

Josiah, there is a LOT already in this game. Much of what you put in your suggestions is stuff already in here, too. I recommend taking a few months to play through it first and see what there is to offer.

Play a few different ATs, try to get one of them to 50, and really experience what there already is to offer.

Then, with a better understanding of what's already here, come back with more informed suggestions.

Two public places don't have AE.

Grandville and Pocket D.

Grandville makes sense in a "Recluse doesn't want you messing with his plans" sort of way.

Pocket D...

Well...

While Zero is neutral (which means he helps neither Order nor Chaos, Light nor Dark), he doesn't make a habit of messing with people. Considering the AE's likely sinister backstory (it's Aeon and Crey, it can't POSSIBLY come to a good conclusion), Zero is probably trying to keep any "risk of harm" away from his patrons. It's one thing to ask heroes and villains to work together during Christmas and Valentine's Day in largely whimsical missions to help vague deities. It's another to let something that could suck out their memories into his establishment.

Wait... So many heroes and villains are busy "farming" the AE... It ALL MAKES SENSE NOW! Nemesis couldn't have been so insidious! It takes a truly twisted mind to lock heroes and villains inside a videogame while the forces of evil try to take over the world!

Warn your children!

Warn your characters!

Avoid the AE!

But not before playing my arcs!

Yeah... Redraw...

Of course, you still have to Redraw with Kick, which doesn't even USE the arms. Lots of things cause Redraw. Frankly, I'm used to it.

I mean, Hell, the Shield set causes redraw with its Mez Resistance and the Shield Charge, and that set practically SCREAMS "Use weapons with me! It's thematic!"

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Flashbang Grenade: PPD Flashbang, hand-thrown. Very high endurance cost.


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Considering the PPD version of this power and what it does (you have to pray to be able to hit the enemies, and then hope your god looks down on you favorably), this endurance cost makes sense It would need a long recharge, too.

But it would be WORTH it!

It's not that I have come to dislike writing this story, it's just that my life has crap in it again, so it's harder for me to find time to write it.

Still...

My Beautiful Misery has a new chapter.

It looks like the next stage of the Shepherd's Pie...

It’s not as hard as I expected to get some “civilian” clothes. In this case, I went for something of an explorer’s outfit: cargo pants, a hoodie, some tough-looking combat boots… The clerk had a feeling I was more than just the unassuming-looking Asylum orderly, but was wise not to ask any questions. After changing, I dropped the orderly outfit in a dumpster and made my way west.

I’m not sure what they call Independence Port on this side of the dimension, but the place looks…

Shelled.

Some spots look flattened.

I guess Atlas, or whatever he called himself here, tried to bring the port down with his bare hands. There’s a sign advertising “See the Colossal Skeleton!” and it’s pointing people to the south. Guess that answers what happened…

I can hear the sounds of near-constant combat, like out of old movies where the claustrophobic battle scenes are awash in the sounds of metal striking metal. I can hear men and women shouting, but it’s all angry and confident.

Again, the city looks like the barest minimum to keep things running has been done to maintain the city. Construction equipment still sits in mid-job, rusting as they hold up girders or piles of dirt. A see a few ghosts flitting here and there, a couple shadows move of their own accord. One gets too close to one the denizens that calls this mockery of Independence Port home, and winds up cleaved in half.

The Freakshow is still very much active on this side of the fence, and the rules of opposing behavior don’t seem to apply to them. They’re still nihilistic, self-obsessed blowhards, and they still get their kicks from spreading abject chaos. They’re probably the cause of the fighting I’ve been hearing.

A pair look at me, and they look like they’re about to do something when I send them a thought that the guy next to them looks like an Antimatter Robot. They don’t take the time to consider that the robot’s blue is a bit too dark or that the robot’s standing where their friend just was, or that their friend is nowhere to be found. They just gave a whoop and started swinging, quickly reducing each other to twitching, sparking piles of flesh and limbs. They were still alive, though. That Excelsior is some nasty stuff.

Yeah, I know it is. I tried it once, apparently, when I was all insane again. The doctors said that it probably contributed to further instability. Of course, considering the fact that even Freaks are rehabilitating lately, perhaps that was just speculation. Maybe they just blame their debased behavior on the drug, like an excuse.

In any case, I leave the two goons lying on the ground. When my illusions wore off, I could hear them cackling about how they “should have known” and that “this’ll make a great joke for Bile.” The sounds of metal scraping on pavement and concrete, accompanied by pained grunts, indicate that they’re dragging their bodies away.

I downloaded some information before leaving the Asylum, information on Eve Van Dorn. Before the Rikti attacked, she was last known living somewhere to the south. I recognized the address as being an apartment building not too far north of Icon… But I already expect to find scorched rubble.

I’m not too far off. A lot of the buildings have been converted into Freakshow Shanty Fortresses, those bizarre constructs that make it look like children with scrap metal and blow torches tried to make steroid-infused versions of their paintball forts. They’ve destroyed countless vehicles, wrecked plenty of apartments, torn down factory sections and ripped up the pavement. A gathering of about twenty of the cybernetic lunatics waits at the entrance to the fortress, apparently just having an average conversation.

I steer clear of them. Eve’s apartment building is down the street, and I’m surprised to find that for being so close, possibly even within, Freakshow territory, the buildings around here are largely untouched. They’re still damaged from Atlas’ pummeling, the Rikti War, and whatever else, but the Freaks don’t come here for spare parts.

I pass a couple children huddled in the alley. They’re wondering where their next meal will come from. I don’t know what to do for them, so I move on, but not without a heavy heart.

The building I come to isn’t much different from the others. Brick, scorch marks on the walls, some graffiti declaring this neighborhood belongs to this gang or that… The Freakshow one seems worn with age, which is odd, considering the fact it’s right on the door.

Once inside (odd, the front door isn’t locked; seems dangerous for a world like this), I’m assaulted by the smell of… Flowers? It’s like potpourri, and strong.

Really strong.

I take a few steps and…

It’s getting hard to think…

My vision blurs…

Shaking my head, everything gets clear for a moment. That was weird. Like falling into my dark place again, but… But…

I’m getting dizzy…

What the Hell is going on?

…

Zzz-Uhngk! What!? Huh? Who is that?

…

Zzz… Zzzz…

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“Wake up!” she shouts and my eyes snap open. She’s staring down at me, her face scrunched into a scowl that indicates that I’m not with a friend. Strange, since I’ve still got a weird “friendly” vibe emanating from somewhere. The room also smells heavily of flowers, but it’s not like that overpowering stuff that overtook me earlier.

Unless, of course, it wasn’t the aroma that put me under… Thinking back, it seems I might have been imagining such a strong smell… Like it was seeping through my mind.

“Who are you?” the brunette shrieks (I think she’s a brunette, anyway, everything’s gray again; she could be a dark red head), “What are you doing here?”

“I told you!” a young voice chirps from somewhere I can’t see, I seem to be tied down, “Daddy sent him!”

My job has become both easier and more difficult at the same time. Is this what it’s like for Manticore when he’s investigating? I don’t like this “everything’s out of control” feeling. I’m the one who’s supposed to have everybody else on lockdown, not be under lockdown…

Wait…

I’m always…

Nevermind.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I’m able to gurgle out, “Woah… Dizzy… Who… Who are you?”

“I’m asking the questions, bucko!” the woman snarls, leans close and presses a metal hand to my neck, pressing me into what feels like a couch, “Who are you and what are you doing here!?”

“I’m… I’m Jean-Pierre,” I reply, not sure if answering with my callsign would cause her distress, “I’m looking for Cheryl Scott. I was told to look for Eve Van Dorn…”

The name and this woman suddenly cause something to click in my head. See, she looks familiar… Purple shirt, black pants… Metal arm… A large metal arm. Her hair is short and spiked and…

“Clamor?” I ask as she looks to the other person in the room, someone I’m suspecting is Cheryl.

“Is he telling the truth?”

“Yes!” the extremely young girl answers with a confidence that is extremely inappropriate for her age, she can’t be any older than four or five, “I told you! Daddy was out of the Scary Place because of him!”

“You’re Eve, aren’t you?” I ask, “And she’s Cheryl…”

----------

“I’m having trouble believing all of this,” Eve says darkly as she rotates a cup of coffee in her hands on the table between us, “Other dimensions? It’s crazy.”

As you may have guessed, I've told her my story. We're now in the late afternoon hours and my voice is hoarse.

“You’re honestly telling me you’ve never heard of us?”

“Emperor Cole claimed to have an alternate version of himself captive under his palace,” she admits, “I thought it was just more propaganda and lies. He could have just dressed someone up like an American flag, you know… But you’re saying that was real?”

“And the heroes who rescued him,” I reply, “That’s how we roll where I’m from. We look out for each other.”

Cheryl giggles. She’s a cute little girl, she has her mother’s eyes. Apparently, she also has her mother’s psychic powers, she was the one who’d bored through my brain with the potpourri smell. She said, as Eve untied me from the steel cables I’d been wrapped in, that she’d been keeping an eye on her father for these past couple years. Somehow, she was much more knowledgeable about the world than she looked, probably because of her psychic connections since being in the womb. Because of this, she was smarter and more understanding than a child her age should be.

She knew I was coming and who I was. She knew much of my story before I even told it. I don’t know why she giggled when I said that we take care of our own in my world, but it probably had something to do with my “incident.” Still, she kept quiet and I guess Eve just assumed it was a joke of comparisons. Sometimes children found juxtapositions funny.

What? I like the word. Juxtaposition. It sounds funny, even if it is just “putting things next to each other for comparison.”

“Well, regardless, I’m running low on time,” I bring us back to the point, “I promised Calvin I would get him and his daughter out of this world…”

Eve gazes at me. I don’t need to read her mind to know what she’s thinking. She’s spent the last four years harboring this girl and surviving in the Praetorian-dominated world, keeping her safe for a man and woman she barely knew, one of which she knew would never be coming back. How did she expect to be rewarded?

At first, she had a surrogate daughter. That was apparently enough, then… Heck, with Cheryl’s help, she was able to get away from the Freakshow. Now, however, the responsibility was being taken off her hands. Now, she had nothing to do and nothing to protect her from the Praetorians and Freakshow.

“I can’t take you with me,” I whisper, “I’m sorry… I don’t even know if I can take them.”

“You can try,” Eve’s voice cracked a little, “Please? It’s so terrible here…”

“I know. Believe me, I know. I wish I could help you…”

She glared at me, then went back to sipping her coffee. Cheryl was petting her wrist. I don’t know what was going on between them, but they’d probably established a psionic dialogue long before I’d met them.

“I would, Eve… I would. I know better than most how everybody needs a chance… It’s just… You never know when that chance is…”

She looks to me and sighs. Shaking her head, she stands up and walks away and there’s nothing more to say.

“She doesn’t like it,” Cheryl says in that high-pitched tone all children that age have, “But she understands.”

“Do I need to worry about her trying to kill me, now?”

“No!” is the girl’s mortified cry, “Why would you think that!?”

“On my world, she’s a criminal and a super-powered terrorist named ‘Clamor.’ She tried to collapse a large portion of the city by devastating its understructure with special bombs.”

“Well, that’s not my Aunt Eve.”
Technically, she’s not her aunt, either, but that’s an argument for another day.

“Alright… Well… You believe me… You know I’m telling the truth, right?”

Cheryl nods.

“Do you want to leave this place?” I ask, “If you don’t… I could bring your father back to you…”

“Daddy wants to leave. He knows we have to leave. He’s so sad right now… So scared…”

“Alright, then,” I stop her before she gets really upset, “We’ll work something out. I need you to stay here, out of sight from Mayhem and the Freaks. I still need to work out where I’m going and how I’m getting there… But we’ll be gone within the week.”

“Cool!” she chirps and gives me a hug, “I’ll see you in a couple days, then.”

She sounds so sure that it will be exactly two days. I also get a weird feeling that I’m being watched. It’s not that feeling like you’re doing something wrong… It’s like somebody is looking over my shoulder…

----------

I leave the apartment and look around. The people here are worried about me and how I just wandered into their neighborhood. Worse yet, I walked into the very place that houses their protectors, and I walked out like nothing happened. Somebody’s bound to check on Eve and Cheryl, and they’re bound to be surprised to find that everything’s fine.

For now.

I have no idea what will happen when I take Cheryl out of this environment. She’s obviously the one keeping the monsters at bay. Eve fights the ones that get through (hence the robot arm), like Neuron and Antimatter’s robots. But with the little girl’s psychic influence removed… What would happen?

I can’t dwell on it… Thinking about it, I realize that she’s still in danger if I don’t take her out of here. It won’t be long before someone high-ranking or in the Tyrant’s inner circle notices this somewhat pristine scene and decides to bomb it from orbit.

If I could, I would take them all out of here… I can’t. I can only do so much good…

And it hurts to know that it will never be enough.

There's the Fighting Pool, which gives some melee attacks and defensive capabilities (as if a character has taken basic fighting training).

What if we had an "Arsenal Pool," one that gives extra "blasts" to characters. Probably largely ignored by Blasters and the like, but it would be nifty to get a Pistol power or an Assault Rifle. Later powers could be things like rockets or grenades and culminating in those nasty flashbangs the PPD Ghosts like to hit Villains with or perhaps get stable versions (i.e. no finite number of uses or time limits) of those Safeguard/Mayhem Side Mission Temporary Powers like the Shotgun, IR Goggles or Plasmatic Taser...

Okay, maybe not the Taser (it is just Energy Torrent with a different name, after all), but the rest would be nice to see more regularly.

Welcome to the world of CoH fan fiction!

I can't wait until I have some time to set aside to read it.

No, not like Kelly Uqua. I'd like to be a Rikti, or even a "Lost" transitional mutate.

Perhaps this would make a good epic archetype.

No ideas for powerets or such. Frankly, whatever names or numbers I could throw up here could/would be hashed, rehashed or outright ignored.

One thing I will say, though, is that playing a Rikti character would probably work best in a system similar to the Arachnos Soldiers, with the branching structure to choosing how you level and what you become in the end.

Food for thought. Ducking back out of here again...

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This was also LONG before AE and just goes to prove anyone, at any time, can make some rather interesting (and goofy) power selections. Ah well it was HIS character and if he was happy with it so be it. Just glad I never had to team with him LOL

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There've been n00bs doing dumb [censored] since launch. Everyone's ready to blame MA and AE missions for their n00bosity, but I've been here for five years and one of the things that I've noticed from threads like this is that they never change.

People not understanding their powers, people not understanding the game or the role their AT is supposed to fill. Everytime a thread like this pops up the stories and complaints are often very similar to the last time. Anyone blaming MA/AE for this is missing the point and is missing the reality of the situation and that is that MA/AE or not, there are n00bs, and quite frankly I've noticed neither a decreaes nor a significant uptick.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

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What makes it a horror story is when the new player is repeatedly informed of a better, or even proper, way to utilize their in-game powers, and they refuse to listen. When they willfully perpetuate a bad experience, they have become a gaming equivalent to Jason Voorhees.

"Big Red" in the center is a Cacodemon from Doom.

That's so CUTE!

New Grey's Army

If you're new to the series, this is probably a good time to get into it because the heroes are getting into random one-shot adventures before they get into anything major for a while.

DeviousMe's Exterminator Null shows up to reassure Daniel and the two have a conversation about Arbiter Sands and how Taylor came to the conclusion about the Arbiter's real name. The "Name Game" then transitions to a conversation in the Grey's Army base, and some nuttiness ensues.

--Port Oakes--

Daniel was surprised when he heard a knock at the door instead of a crash from one of the windows. Considering the fact he’d installed various defensive turrets in any room in his apartment that has windows, he should’ve been more surprised he didn’t hear something smash through the front door or simply lob some kind of nuke into the place.

He hadn’t been to work in two weeks. He’d already received the call from his supervisor, Senior Operative Vargo, about how a notice had come in explaining that Taylor was barred from Grandville’s facilities anyway. To his credit, Vargo sounded confused that one of his best and most dedicated operatives had been blacklisted, and he even explained that he had a team looking into how they could help him.

Taylor knew they couldn’t help him, though.

“Hello?” he heard Null’s voice after a familiar clicking and unlatching sound, “Dan? You in here?”

“May as well get this over with,” the rogue operative sighed, “I’m in the living room, Null.”

“Get this over with?” the Exterminator asked as he walked into the central room, “You sound depressed. What kind of attitude is that to have?”

“You’ve been sent to kill me, haven’t you?” was the reply, and Daniel didn’t even make a motion for the assault rifle and Nullifier Mace resting on the coffee table, “If it were anybody else, I’d be trying to fight. Well, maybe not if it were… Nevermind. Night Widows are trained not to let their emotions get in the way…”

Null merely chuckled.

“Well, before you do it, I guess I should just tell you that I know you’re not human. At first, I thought the whole dragon face thing was an elaborate disguise to help blend in with the crazies… Then… Then I realized nobody would dedicate themselves to that kind of trouble for so long…”

“It was a bit naïve of you,” the armored extraterrestrial said amusedly, “Though, you should know that I’m not here to kill you. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Really?” Daniel pulled his face out of his hands and stared incredulously up at his friend, “But… Why? Won’t this blow your cover?”

“I don’t see why it would. I was in Arachnos before I met you and I’ll be in it a while longer, regardless of who I have to kill to continue doing my thing.”

“So… Why would you let me live? Wouldn’t it be easier to kill me off?”

“Probably. What would be the fun in that, though? Leaving you alive means I have to deal with squads that are sent to kill ya and we can go on adventures together. Now that’s fun!”

“But it’s over, Null… I’ve had to fight nearly ten different squads of Bane Spiders since I stopped the Sanguimancer. The creepiest one was the group that talked as one and said ‘You’re not like us! You must die!’”

“Well, you should rest easy knowing that none of the contracts have come across my desk… And the ones I’ve intercepted don’t seem to have Sands’ name on them.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Daniel sighed.

“Is that really his name? Jeffrey?”

“Maybe. Working as a clerk, I ran across a lot of old paperwork that needed resorting. One of the documents was the application of one Jeffrey Sheldon Sands, about a year before I applied to join Arachnos. There were some more documents decorating the eventual Arbiter Sands, and one that was a promotion notice to Huntsman that had Marshal Brass’ note on it saying that he ‘needed to keep an eye on this one.’ You see why I feel discontented about all of this?”

The Esxterminator was scratching the top of his helmet.

“I thought you said you and Sands went through Arbiter training together…”

“Yeah. Me, him… Apolis, Rein… A few others, too. I was smart and athletic in high school. The recruiter recommended me for Arbiter training immediately. I guess I also scored high on some loyalty exams. The job is pretty much just making sure nobody riots or actually makes a doomsday device that will break the Isles into even MORE chunks.”

“It is unusual, isn’t it? Arachnos has all these freaks and lunatics, yet none of them ever seem able to get ahead. Heck, the Sanguimancer was on his first steps to surpassing the rest of the Destined Ones, and look what you had to do to him.”

Null walked across the room to peer through a door and through the window beyond. His motion sensors were showing him how that peculiar woman was dispatching the latest free-agent assassin that had been hired by Daos to kill the young former Arbiter. It was starting to get weird, as if Arbiter Daos didn’t even know why he wanted Taylor dead. It would explain why the goons he hired were becoming less and less capable.

“So, why do you think Sands just goes by Sands?” he asked as he nodded in approval to Shadeheart’s antics, “It’s not like ‘Jeffrey,’ if that is his real name, is such a terrible name. If it bothers him, he could go by ‘Sheldon,’ right?”

“I guess,” Daniel shrugged, “I mean, what’s wrong with the name Sheldon?”

----------

--Kings Row: Grey’s Army Base--

“I hate my name sometimes,” Sheldon Wallace muttered as he appeared from the blue energy field that served as the remote entrance to the Grey’s Army base, “I just got back from a seminar in Steel Canyon. The class was disappointed I wasn’t a tall, lanky, neurotic and anal nitpicker like out of that show…”

In the lounge, Kipland’s cackle was not encouraging. His girlfriend, the orange-skinned Cathryn “Fire-Shield” Dobson, gave him a reproachful look, but continued snuggling against him on the couch.

“Sorry, man,” Kip finally said, “It’s just, now I won’t be able to watch that show and not think of you.”

“Then the answer is simple,” the inventor’s eyes narrowed behind his dark sunglasses, “stop watching the show.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Guys!” Cedric shouted as he ran into the lounge, “Have any of you been hitting the fridge!?”

“For this beer,” Kip shook the empty can at his friend, “And Cath’s peach, here. Why?”

“Where’d the steak go!?”

“What steak?” Kip’s head turned from the televisions on the wall and he glared at Cedric, “There was steak?”

“Maybe one of the other heroes Randy hired ate it,” Sheldon offered, “That Spearhead Lambda certainly looks the carnivorous type.”

“Nah, man,” Cedric seemed panicked, “He put it in the fridge like this morning!”

There was a strange murmuring sound in the next room. When they looked to the mystical portal chamber to the south, they saw one of the mutant rodents wandering in. It was a particularly large specimen, probably based on a sewer rat and about the size of a Shi-Tzu; it had a bit of steak hanging from its mouth. It plodded in heavily and looked up at the humans in the chamber.

“Oh no,” Sheldon moaned, “Barry…”

“Mrah!” the animal replied.

“He’s not smart enough to talk, but he grilled that sucker up,” Cedric growled, then added after sniffing, “He spiced it, too!”

“Spiced what?” they heard the gravelly tone of Randall Grey’s voice from the entrance chamber, “Hey, what smells so good?”

Barry the gudar chewed the last bit of steak and swallowed. As the humans looked at him, he started panting happily like an oblivious puppy.

Aicheewawa, Warface! Best of luck to you in your recovery. Brown Recluses do some mean damage to people.

Protector also has a small RP following.

Happy... God... Why do I feel like I JUST said this?

Happy birthday!

Happy birthday!

Happy birthday!

I'm not much of a sports fan, myself, so I tend to default to my brothers, who are New York savants (except for Buffalo for some odd reason). When it comes to college sports, they are Orangemen fanatics, so this means I have to be an Orangemen fanatic...

Or they'll beat me with a sack of doorknobs shaped like fists.

Well... Maybe I can get back into playing as my Dom, then. Poor girl, I got her to level 27 and just left her there. Every time I look at her, my head starts to hurt because of how much of a grind it is to play as a Mind/Psi Dominator.

*applause*



*opens soda, proceeds to drink*

Lifestyles of the Stars and Shades!

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I like the idea of the conflict being between Fred and the other driver.

And perhaps the family that Fred agrees to give a ride to could be the driver of the vehicle he threatened to shove out of the way.

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In such an instance, I would think that the Impending Disaster has reared its ugly head, prompting a rapid, panicked exodus...