Ohms__NA

Slick powerset, and I didn't really have interest in rolling an Archer. Entangle isn't bad. As a Blaster secondary, this "S-T immob you get 'cause there isn't a choice" thing is common practice, but given the lvl 1 choice between an immob or hold, who's going to choose the immob?

Glue's pretty hinky. The animation looks and sounds more like the mobs have sprinklers on their feet than it does as them running thru a glue trap. Also, I think this would be better as a ground-targeted power than a mob-targeted one.

Ice is nice. Gotta love the holds. Similiar vibe to Freeze Ray and Cryo Freeze Ray.

The big question I have is when will this be a Blaster secondary? Not a direct translation, mind you. But as something similiar to a Devices-like secondary (for an AT that could really use some decent secondaries) Trick Arrow is already well on its way.

“No!” I bellowed as I bolted upright, gasping for air as I looked around the apartment. It took me a few moments to realize where I was. The sheets were soaked and twisted around my legs. I kicked free and swung them off the edge of the bed. My left hand rubbed my face, attempting to blot out the memories, as my right hand searched the nightstand. I needed a smoke bad. I couldn’t find the pack of butts I was searching for and flicked on the light in frustration. The nightstand was empty, just the lamp and my wristwatch. I let out a chuckle. I’d forgotten I’d given up smoking. I let out another chuckle when it dawned on me that I never smoked in the first place. Well, at least not the me I used to be.

“In my defense,” the honeyed voice of Velda, or the being I called Velda, said in my head. “Pretty much everyone on that planet smoked. There is one universal truth. On worlds where the plant known here as tobacco grows, the inhabitants are foolish enough to smoke it.”

I scooped up my watch and checked the time. 3:33am it said. Sally wasn’t back from work yet. This was her apartment. Nice digs in the heart of Founder’s Falls, which was saying something. Founder’s Falls was one of the more affluent sections of the city. Virtually untouched by the Rikti invasion and its citizenry had the added blessing of being looked upon favorably by the Statesman. In other words the place was swarming with toadies and bootlicks.

I’ve known Sally for years. After the invisible demons Poltergeist sicked on me well and truly kicked my fourth point of contact Sally found me and brought me back to the garage she and the rest of the Concrete Angels used as a home and nursed me back to health. In those days she was know Shotgun Sally. A grease-monkey with Hoppes #9 running through her veins. Sure, she kept her platinum tresses cropped close but her figure left no doubt about her gender. She’s a whiz with weapons and gadgets of any kind, but otherwise a normal human. Just like the rest of the Angels. Not a ‘mutie’ like yours truly. Well, like yours truly used to be.

She helped me out of some tough spots over the years. We were close but were never an item until recently. What can I say? Sometimes I’m slow on the uptake. Sometimes you need a third person to point out things that you’re not seeing. Even if technically, I’m that third person. I got up and crossed the wood floor of the bedroom and gazed out the window. I wasn’t expecting to see anything. Just a habit. My watch said 3:36 now.

Some people would be concerned by the hour, but I’m not most people. I took it as a good sign. After the war things changed and after the Statesman went fascist they changed even more. I wonder what Streets, Sally’s old leader, would’ve thought of Sally’s new gig. Desperate times, as the old saying goes, call for desperate measures, but I don’t think Streets would’ve approved of the measures Sally and some of the other Concrete Angels had taken. Even still, I’d rather she was still alive to let me know for sure. She’d find a way to blame me for their decision no doubt.

Sally had a new handle that she went by these days: Anastasia. It seemed a good fit for the features her Swedish and Ukrainian heritage gave her and it had enough of an exotic edge and sense of mystery to go along with her new vocation. Like most cities Paragon City had its share of what are interestingly enough referred to as “Gentlemen’s Clubs”. From low-rent hole-in-the-wall strip joints to high-end cabarets, the game was the same; separate John and sometimes Jane Q. Public from their money.

Sally and a few of the surviving Concrete Angels threw in with the resistance movement. The Angels weren’t looking for some extra cash to cover the rent, and by the looks of the place Sally had moved into a few months after starting up as Anastasia rent wasn’t cheap. They worked only the high-end joints. The ones those that found themselves ‘more equal than others’ in the Statesman’s little utopia frequented. They’d grease up their marks with booze and liberal helpings of feminine wiles and carefully extract as much information as the dopes were willing to spill then they’d pass it along to the resistance.

Ironically, it had been Stix’s idea for the Angels to start working the strip joints in town. She’s the Angel’s resident medic, and has about as big a hate-on for men as Streets did. Before her addiction to prescription meds had flushed her dreams of being a doctor down the tubes she’d also taken a few headshrinking courses. Not that you exactly need a PhD to know that the best way to separate a fool from just about anything you’re after is through the appropriate application of a g-string.

Sally said she’d been working on a mark connected with the PPW, the Paragon Public Works. It always struck me as funny how frequently the terms like “People” and “Public” were used by the most brutal of regimes. The PPW used to be one of the most powerful privately owned corporations in Paragon City. I guess I’m partially to blame for it. After Countess Crey’s little Revenant Project was exposed the resulting PR nightmare made it pretty easy, and popular, for the Statesman to take over Crey Industries. New management brought with it a new name. There was never any love lost between me and the good Countess, but still. What can I say? I grew up a Cold Warrior. Commies bug me.

(To Be Continued)

I took a quick glance through the plexiglass window. I could see Donna. She was sitting at one of the chairs that circled around the table in the dining area of the House of Tomorrow. The whole damn thing was made out of plastic. One of those brainstorms to come out of the 1950s. It was supposed to be what people would be living in in the future. I wonder what J. Allen Wilkerson, the guy that footed most of the bill for the project, would think of the fact that John and Jane Q. Public were still living in boxes made of concrete and steel and wood. Not big plastic bubbles. I don’t know why my mind always focuses on odd bits of trivia under stressful circumstances like this. Most people would be concerned at times this. But I’m not most people.

I hazarded another glance into the house. This time I caught sight of Terawatt and Jimmy. My ‘evil twin’ was busily taking advantage of the Atoms for the Living Kitchen, known nowadays as a microwave, to nuke some Jiffy Mart burritos. ‘Evil Twin’. When the hell did my life become a soap opera?

Jimmy was curled up in one of those hideous chairs that looked like a hollowed-out egg. Rollo, his ever-present teddy bear, was sitting in his lap. Well, at least Terawatt didn’t suspect the tracking device, or the surprise I had Shotgun Sally stick into that copy of Rollo. I let myself breathe a sigh of relief.

“Boss,” Sparks’s voice over the commlink interrupted my train of thought. “He’s called in his demands. Ten mil in gold and jewels. Brought out to the House of Tomorrow in four hours by Fritz of all people. Then the usual warnings. No cops, no supers or… well, I don’t need ta be saying what he said he’d do.”

“Gold and jewels?” I said. “Someone really got an eyeful while sneaking around the Cloister, didn’t they?”

“Looks like it, Boss.”

“What’s the team’s status?” I asked as I reached into the top of my right boot. There was no way I was going to be able to ‘port through this plastic house. Which no doubt was exactly why my ‘twin’ chose it to hole up in. He’s me, sort of; he knows that I can’t ‘port through nonconductive materials. I pressed the stud on the gizmo I had Sally whip up if I ever found myself trapped inside of a wooden, or plastic, cell. The spring tension released a slim, long needle from the cylindrical body. It was based on a design the cloak-n-dagger types developed during the Cold War. Never thought I’d use it to get myself into a nonconductive trap.

“It isn’t looking good, Boss.” Sparks reported dutifully. “The Big Man (meaning the Terran) and the doll with the motorcycle (meaning Shotgun Sally) have gone off to investigate an offshore slavery ring. Spellstorm has disappeared as well.” Both parts, taken separately, didn’t hold much significance, but since the last I had heard some frustrations between those two were due to be worked off, the combination took on a different meaning. “Blackwolf’s commlink is offline, Grandmaster is still recovering from his battle with the Combatant, Tin Man’s dealing with his evil twin, Elvis has left the building… Like I said Boss, it isn’t looking good.”

“What about our recently returned teammate?” I asked, referring to the transformed Goblin Jack.

“Gone.” Sparks replied.

“Gone?”

“Like I said, gone,” he insisted. “He was in his lab one minute and gone the next.”

“I’ll file that away for contemplation at another time, Sparks.” I said “Right now it was time to check in on Donna, Jimmy and my evil twin.”

“Be careful, Boss.”

“Aren’t I always?” I asked as I peered through the window. Sparks didn’t answer. We both knew the answer. The scene inside had changed. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I don’t need to be a lip-reader to know that it wasn’t a friendly exchange. Things were getting heated. Terawatt yelling at Donna. Donna yelling at Terawatt. Even Jimmy was out of his chair and yelling. Rollo, ever the model of Zen restraint, was the only one keeping his cool inside the House of Tomorrow. Terawatt waved his finger in Donna’s face. Donna stood her ground. Jimmy, who’d been spending the past few months in the company of a bunch of spandexed-types, launched into action.

Jimmy sent a red Chuck Taylor into Terawatt’s left shin, to little affect. Terawatt, for his part, responded with a backhanded blow that sent the child skidding across the floor. Donna went from angry to downright enraged before Jimmy came to a halt and sent her, decidedly larger shin crashing into the one place no man wants to have a shin, or much of anything else for that matter, crashing into.

Terawatt let out the contents of his lungs in a whoosh and doubled over in pain. Donna turned to take full advantage of Terawatt’s pain and called to Jimmy to run. Jimmy regained his feet, and with Rollo clutched tightly to his chest, headed for the door and pulled frantically at the knob. The door, thanks to Terawatt, wasn’t budging.

Terawatt recovered from the blow and snatched Donna by the back of her head, at the base of her ponytail. Donna screamed louder for Jimmy to run as she struggled to free herself. He knew that keeping his hostages intact was a crucial part of the plan, especially after the cakewalk that was supposed to be the Tiffany’s job flew apart. Dominus Rex would be livid, but at the moment was too angry to care and the blue snakes of raw electricity danced along his forearm.

Dark Dreams, Darker Reality (More Here.)

The wind shifted again. The leaves of the trees rustled. The twin moons were mere slivers in the night’s sky. It was a dark night. Cool. Crisp. A perfect night for me and what I’ve come to do. I can clearly pick up the scent of the guards. They’re scared. The Ran’ath’chak always smelt a bit sulfuric, hard for a people who called the fire plains of An’zhur’ac home not to, but when they were nervous or frightened their scent changed. It took on subtle notes of cloves burning. The Ran’ath’chak are proud people. A warrior race. It’s the only outward sign; the only “tell” they gave when they were worried. Most of them weren’t even aware of it. It was only something that could be picked up by the sensitive nose of a tracking animal… or a trained assassin.

This was the part I enjoyed most. The careful plans shifting into the action phase. The stealthy patience as I closed on my quarry. The thrill of the anticipation. Taking out my target was almost anticlimactic… almost. I’m not quite that jaded. But the fun I had leading up to the end-kill… ah, now that made it all worthwhile. If I could instill fear in those who were about to fall before me, so much the better. The guard detail around the Ran’ath’chak Consulate in the Arz’zim Province, capital of the Vrim’mar Imperium, had been doubled. Most people would be concerned by this. But I’m not most people.

After the assassination of Jan’eth the special envoy to the Cae’zinth Council from Vrim’mar the Ran’ath’chak were concerned there would be a retaliation. With good reason. I didn’t go to all the trouble of making it look like an attack by a Zhur’anath Master just for the sake of variety. It took a good amount of time to be able to master their martial art of fire combat enough to make my attack believable. I’d be greatly disappointed if all that effort was for naught.

I even made sure to make use of interdimensional portals, something my instructor Lar’an’ziz called the Fiery Rings of Zir’ac’zee. The old fool actually believed his people singularly blessed with the gift of pulling off what my people have been using to amuse children at parties for ages. I wonder what my dear old teacher would have thought when he learned what I had used his training for. Judging by the reaction he had to my draining the very last drop of life essence from him, he probably wouldn’t have taken it well.

The job was simple really. The Rith’zuum wanted war between the Ran’ath’chak and the avian people of the Vrim’mar Imperium. The shaky truce that had existed between the two races for going on thirty winters was reaching the point of solidifying into full-fledged peace, or flying apart into bloody conflict. The necro-mages of the Rith’zuum wanted the latter. They reasoned a few well placed assassinations of leaders and key officials would achieve that goal.

That’s where I come in.

The Rith’zuum Triumbrum didn’t explain what they hoped to gain from the war between the two clans. I didn’t ask. I could care less. This wasn’t even my world. Cae’zinth, the “Crimson Jewel”. Yeah right. I guess “Backwater Armpit” was already taken. Soon I’d be leaving anyway. Those damn White Lighters were moving into this sector which means I’m moving out. A war between two of the major races on Cae’zinth would help cover my tracks. Time to get this moving along. The Consul wasn’t going to kill himself.

Why? He was living up to what the devs apparently believe a Blaster's role is...
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1. Do Ranged Damage (Pay no attention to the melee attacks all over the secondaries or that Range = Defense is a joke.)

2. Die[/list]Not necessarily in that order. Synapse got faceplanted, then did the ranged damage. Albeit as the projectile.

Well, it's good to see some things never change. Blasters can't even catch a [censored]ing break in the god[censored] trailers.

Defense: Okay, here goes... You're squishie. Squishie as hell. Don't go overboard thinking defensive capacity will save you. It won't. As a Blaster you are your best defense. Accept it. But if you have access to something like Cloaking Device, take and slot and use it and love it. With Smoke Grenades or Superspeed, Cloaking Device gives you total invisibility... until you fire. Stealth/Invis is there for the pre-fecal matter hitting the rotary cooling device planning, not to keep you alive whilst said matter is hitting said device.

Planning: Which moves us on to planning. Do it. Learn to do it on the fly. Soloing a */Dev Blaster allows you to do all sorts of nastiness before the fight starts, but most teams aren't going to have the patience for that, so learn to do it quickly. Scan, and I mean a lot. Wave that cursor around. Prioritize the up-coming mobs. Which ones need to go down first? Which power are you going to use? An Aim+BU's snipe? Your nuke? A hold or stacked-hold? Pop quiz, Hotshot. Be the first guy or gal that spots that nasty mezz'r or Sapper. Trust me, this is a valuable skill to have and to bring to a team. Ask anyone running a Kheld how important it is to find the Quantum or Void. Here's a bind a couple binds I use...
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/bind F6 "say $target located."

/bind F7 "say $target in my sights. Ready."[/list]The first one let's folks know you've found such-n-such. The second one let's folks know what target you plan on dealing with first, and that you're ready when they are. Here's a little keybinding tutorial I came up with.

Patience: Have it. Don't be the first one to take the shot. If there's a Tanker on board follow him or her. And I don't mean so damn close that you're both wearing the same tights... you know, unless the Tanker's Iron Vixen or something. Tankers get shot it. No really, it's true. Some of these shots will be of the AoE variety. Don't be next to the Tanker when these come inbound. Let the Tanker (or Scrapper) gain aggro before you do anything. When cruising thru maps I'm right there with the lead Tank. It's a good habit to have.

Bag o' Tricks: These are a staple for me. I like having something more than just raw firepower to bring to the team... although that's a damn good thing to have as well. Don't shy away from powers (like Tesla Cage) just because they don't dish out a lot of damage. Holds and acccess control powers are your friends. Powers like Recall Friend and the Medicine gizmo are great powers to have. Then there's one of my longtime trick plays... TP Foe. 'Port Sniping is a great artform for a Blaster to pick up. Too damn bad PvP's come along. Now every-damn-body wants this power. A power that used to get ignored or laughed at.

Hmm... that's about all I can think of at the moment. If you've any questions ask. That's my last bit of advice... Ask Questions. Ask questions on the forums, ask questions in-game. If it's your first time facing a certain mob-type, ask folks if there's anything you should know.

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The overpowered nature of Blasters during issues 1 and 2 had been addressed by two things: The fixing of Smoke Grenade and the Purple Patch.

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Don't forget the various announced and unannounced changed to mob AI that have taken place over time, virtually all of which done in a way that (intentionally or not) hurt blasters. Mobs running if sniped from too far away, mob groups scattering when hit by AoE attacks, the fear effect of rain powers overriding all other forms of control, etc.

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.... readily detecting the "almost impossible to detect" Trip Mines and reacting accordingly.

Oh yeah... Malta stuns... good grief. Call me kooky, but I don't think a stun should last the duration of a big fight.

Malta: *bonk*
Ohms: *drunk-walks for the next five minutes*
Malta: *snicker*
Ohms: .oO(Evil cheater-heads)

Never been killed by one either. Cryo? I'm usually getting hit with fire from them. Ironically, until I got Body Armor, they only hit me with lead. Their range is just f'd right the hell up.

So can Iron Man... well, unless you attack him with a bottle of scotch... but this is CoH, not the comics. Leave the comicbooks alone. All that comes from comparing CoH with comics is heartache. Ask the Tankers. Blasters are "Glass Cannons". Defensive capacity isn't in the job description. The problems we have aren't because we're squishies, it's that our "cannon" part isn't jiving up with how "glassy" we are. Well, part of it is anyway.

I usually try to chase the buggers down before it gets to that stage

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Some short fixes?

a) More Hitpoints. They don't have the defensive skills/sttributes of defenders, scrappers, or even controllers do, while tankers, scrappers, and defenders all have decent damage as well, sometimes approaching blaster damage. More HP seems an easy fix, bump them up to medium HP maybe, or somewhere in between?

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This was something I've always found odd. "Hey, we're got this AT with uber defensive capacity and Oh! I know! Let's give them piles of HP too." Seems a bit like wrapping Bill Gates in hundred dollar bills. The HP bump the FC (?) Accolade that I picked up right before getting invited to a team was what kept me on my feet when the */Dev standing right next to me got waxed.

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b) More damage. Hmmm...well, I tend to agree with scrappers getting more damage for the difficulty of their job, and being in melee range the whole time. I'm against this, though maybe raising the Max Buff Cap (from 400% to the scrapper's 500%?) would help blasters shine more in group situations?

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Uhm... huh? Scrappers have defensive capacity to deal with the hairiness of their situation. Giving them move offensive capacity than Blasters, whose only real defense is their offense is, yet again, like wrapping Bill Gates in hundred dollar bills. I mean, it's great the way it is... for Scrappers. For Blasters it only makes their squishiness that much more squishy and contributes to the attitudes you openned your post with in the first place. Blasters have a major downside. Why in the hell would anyone in their right mind invite that downside unless their upside was well and truly worth it? Having any AT come close to or surpass Blasters in terms of offensive output is flatout wrong. You're doing pretty good, but I think you're letting your Scrapper bias seep into this point a bit.

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c) Decrease the range of enemy snipe attacks. Should be easy...not sure there's any char or vilian in the game who should out-range the "ranged specialist" AT.

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Enemy snipe attacks? I'm more concerned with the minions with submachineguns and LTs with six-shooters tagging my happy [censored] halfway across the map. Enemy snipers having range... totally makes sense. A guy firing a six-shooter from the hip having range (and by that I mean better than anything a Blaster has) is flatout wrong.

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. . .Have YOU seen the downside on Unstoppable?

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Uh huh. Which is why I found the screaming hissyfit thrown when the EPPs were first announced so damn funny.

/Agreed

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Not bringing Scrappers in-line with the "world" they're playing in.

[/ QUOTE ] I've long said scrappers were overpowererd compared to the mobs we face. That train left while you were still in bed.

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Fine, let's not worry about addressing Blaster issues. Let's just nerf the hell out of Scrappers instead. You've got me convinced.

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I am hereby repossessing my privileges. Pfffffft!

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Nope. Sorry. Your privileges are still revoked. You didn't say that "one of the possible solutions is..." or "one of the attempted solutions was...". You proclaimed the solution to be increasing mob strength. Not bringing Scrappers in-line with the "world" they're playing in. Not even bringing non-Scrappers in-line with what Scrappers can do. You proclaimed the solution was to increase mob strength. And when people had a problem with this solution, a solution that was fine for Scrappers yet kicked the rest of us in the yam-bag, it was their fault for not having the keen grasp of gaming dynamics that you have.

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...Not that I think it matter anymore. It looks like a lot of work went into their recent Scrapper retesting so I'm willing to bet Statesman forgot about this thread 5 minutes later, is going to keep focussing on Tankers and Scrappers because they Own PvP, and eventually do nothing about it anyway. Though DA might even get love before Blasters do.

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Which would, of course, appear to be par for the course and [yet] another reason Blasters are so generally pissed off at the moment.

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As a scrapper, my life is not really at risk. The solution is to up the damage by mobs so that scrappers need to kill them a lot more quickly than before....but people didn't like that.

As a scrapper, I might get around to killing the boss...I might just work on these minions first. The bosses aren't really that dangerous higher lvls. The solution is to make bosses deadly as all hell so scrappers focused on them immediately, welcomed the help from any blasters, and left the minions and the Lt's to the blasters....but people didn't like that.

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Yeah, because bumping every-damn-thing under the sun to provide Scrappers a bit of pucker factor was wiping every-damn-one else out. (Except Tankers of course.) After posting [censored] like this I hereby revoke your privilege to throw words like "clueless" around and/or generally denigrate other posters' intelligence levels.

Er... and who would that be exactly?

Oh, I'm not saying things like only wanting Empaths around, or expecting Defenders to do nothing but heal isn't foolish. But ultimately, the issue was never about being asked if they could heal or not, it was about being asked to heal at all.

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I have seen many a broadcast asking for "Team needs a defender!"

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No you haven't. You may have seen, "Team looking for a healer", but that translates to "Controller/Defender who is Empathy primary".

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Listen to Erratic about this one. Or better yet go look in the Defender Forum. Search Key Words: "r u healer?" It suprised me too, but a lot of Defenders are recruited for a team zones-apart and then kicked off a team as soon as they make the trek to the zone the team lead is in and the Lead finds out their Primary, especially Team leads who are blasters or building the team for their Blaster friend.

REDICULOUS...how hard is it to righclick a Defender's name in the 'Find' box and pick the "chat" option and ask them "What's your Primary?" first before inviting them and then crucifying them for not taking Empath?

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R U Healer is exactly that. People hitting Defenders with the "evil tell" and Defenders getting offended by it.

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leave Tankers ALONE!!!

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What does that have to do with anything?

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Exactly nothing. But then again, it doesn't really need to have to do with anything. Any time Blasters want positive improvements to the AT, it sets off waves of "They're calling for our AT to be nerfed!" and other bits of paranoia from non-Blasters.

Wow... everyone's still at it. Good for you all. Let's see... what to add? What pressing bit of insight to pass along? Oh yeah! Concern, the avatar in question is Dawn of 'Cry for Dawn' fame. She's Joseph Michael Linsner's brainchild.

Mine's 50 and I'm having a ball with my Warshade, but I still consider myself a part of the Blaster community. So I still care what changes go down in Blasterville.