Prodiguy

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Lighthouse has just posted announcement that Cyborg Auras will be changed so as to be available at level 1 instead of unlocking at 30

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I can see why they did it, but that seems hardly fair. I hope they intend to do this for the Special Edition capes as well, after all we had to pay extra for them too.

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What do you mean? Still only the people who purchased the pack can use the auras.

They just don't have to reach level 30 and complete the aura mission first.

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And only people that bought the DVD versions of the game can use the capes they came with, but we still have to wait til lvl 20 to earn them.

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Sure- Unless you have the side-cape option.

Just think of the auras like the 15 month wings- Nice little tidbits to slap on at level one without access to the others of those sections. Once you reach level 20, you can put on the capes, or any of the other many designs. At level 30, you can get constant auras. Or, if you have the shoulder-cape option, slap on the SE capes and the Cyborg auras.

Does it matter THAT much?

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Lighthouse has just posted announcement that Cyborg Auras will be changed so as to be available at level 1 instead of unlocking at 30

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I can see why they did it, but that seems hardly fair. I hope they intend to do this for the Special Edition capes as well, after all we had to pay extra for them too.

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What do you mean? Still only the people who purchased the pack can use the auras.

They just don't have to reach level 30 and complete the aura mission first.

Well, I hold it as the namesake for mostly everyone except Experiment- He uses technological advancements for the lower level stuff and his mutant power for the highest level inspirations.

John had stood back and simply watched the ordeal from a little ways behind. He was a pretty nice guy, sure, but White didn't seem to be in too much pain, and it was a funny situation, and funny always came before keeping up appearances.

When the distinctive popping noise occured, he jumped slightly, his snickers quickly descending into small coughs. He then adjusted himself, and ran forward, acting as if he was completely worn out.

"Just missed them!" he yelled, snapping his fingers. "Darn. I was fighting a ninja- You don't see him any more because he's gone, but he was there- And so I was delayed in getting here."

Then, he acted as if he saw the suited man's predicament for the first time. "Iiiinteresting way of keeping a door open. I use spikes myself, keeps the whole 'dislocating the arm' thing to a minimum. Need some help?"

John closed his eyes, almost bursting out laughing, but in a remarkable, unusual use of self-control, he held it in.

"Nemesis plot? Seriously? You believe that stuff? Pfft," he waved his hand, stepping on to one of the levels he 'felt' was the right one, "I have yet to see proof that Nemesis even lives any more except for his organization and a bunch of psychopathic followers. Personally, I think 'Nemesis' is just something used to explain away things people don't want to think about."

There was something about this floor- Oh. Of course. An elevator.

He pointed at it, not really even noticing the people by it just yet, to rant slightly. "Did you know that the ship had an elevator? I wouldn't be using the stairs if I knew there was- Wait... DID I know there was one?"

He stopped, sighing. "Oh lord. I think I KNEW there was an elevator, then I FORGOT. Great. I'm super-smarty genius of technology who can't remember not to walk up and down the Endless Staircase of Doo-- THERE!"

He pointed again, this time at the pair he had seen on the stairwell earlier. "THOSE guys! Remember, I was talking about a Tall Guy and a Short Guy? The cliche? It's them! And now they have Average Joe and Humanoid Lizard in their group! They're-- Humanoid lizard?"

Having yet to finish a thought, John scratched his head. "Wait... What? That's not a cliche... Is it? Is Humanoid Lizard a cliche? I don't THINK-- Wait, humanoid lizard? I know someone who's a humanoid lizard!"

He then spastically began waving at the group. "Hey! I know one of you! Hey!"

He turned to White, grinning. "I know a lizard-guy. That might be him. So I'm waving at them. Logical, right?"

((Jebus! I remember this! I read this through a few years ago! Oh, the memories.))

At one point, during his time at the Paragon City Times, John Ballard, one of the editors, had lobbied for a radio broadcast. His bosses had said that if he could entice a hero to come on for an interview, they would give it a trial run.

The next day, he had set up a section of a radio station... And ordered everyone that he was to be the only one in the room. It was very strange, but they were being paid, so they didn't care.

The interview went as follows- It was to be one of three, before it was shut down due to low ratings.

John: So, welcome to Paragon City Times radion, hopefully the first of many, many broadcasts!

Many!

So, let's talk about some events in the paper today- Sky Raiders looting an electronics store? No worries, The Elastic Spandextor is there! ...Very odd name, don't you think, Experiment?

E: Yeah, totally.

*At this point, one of the executives raises an eyebrow- Experiment 2.0? Why hadn't he seen him come in? Doesn't he wear, like, bright red armor? Before he could think on it more, John's British accent breaks in, then followed by Experiment's American one.*

J: So, how's the sidekick?

E: Eh, I don't know. He can be a bit of a jerk sometimes. I mean-

J: You mean what? I agree, he CAN be a jerk. Like this one time, he kept shooting energy at one of the Clockwork's Princes, and he hit a gas tank on a car. Undue collateral damage.

E: Very true- He could have used his melee attacks, but he just HAD to go on a blast-happy streak. I think it's the puberty.

J: Yeah- Woah, hey, someone's calling in... Which is odd, as we never gave a number but- Yeeello?

*A sigh comes over the phone, followed by a teenage male's voice.*

LB: Yeah, John? Tell Experiment to shut up now. Thanks.

*The phone clicks, and John or Experiment, very hard to tell which one, sighs.*

J: ...don'thavetogetsopissy... Alright, anyway, just so you all get an opportunity to ask the hero questions, the number is- *He reads off a number ((that I can't be bothered to think up right now)), and a few buttons light up rather quickly.*

E: Okay... THIS one!

Citizen 1: Hey, Experiment 2.0, right! Dude, you were awesome yesterday!

E: Oh, thanks... Uh... What... What did I do yesterday?

C1: Oh, yeah, well, you were flying, and then, someone shouted at you, and you turned, and then you went STRAIGHT into the--*Click.*

J: Next caller?

C2: Hey. Listen, I've heard there was an Experiment 3.0, and he killed people a lot. And he was a demon. Y'know him?

J: Not at all.

C2: ...I was asking Expe--

E: Not at all.

C2: ...Uh... Oka--*Click.*

J: Next?

DS: Hehehe... Your callers are pathetic, 2.0!

J: Ohyou'vegottabekidding--

E: How on Earth did YOU manage to get past the screening?

DS: Do you seriously think I can't just hack my way into your telephone lines? Do you underestimate my power, Hero?

E: Apparently- Listen, Shimmy, I'm sorta busy right now, so--

DS: Oh! Oh, I'm so SORRY! I'll make sure not to be a BOTHER next time! Not like you bothered ME when you COATED ME IN A BURNING LIQUID CHEMICAL AND--*Click.*

E: Next- *Hem,*
J:Next caller?

BM: Hey, guys. How're you doing?

E: Oh dear lord. Messenger?

BM: Hey, you recognized my voice! How nice of ya! Hey, listen, while you're at the station, I've heard they had an awesome Wizard Comics down the street from there. Could you pick me up a Statesman V. King Kong issue 6? It's the one with the harriers and a little baby monkey on it.

E: ...Seriously?

BM: Dude, totally- Issue 6 is where it's finally revealed who the identity of the Undergrown Statesman is! I personally believe it's Statesman's kid. Y'know, the rumored Statesbaby Comic Series coming out? I thought maybe it was a prelude--

E: Yeah, fine, I'll get it, whatever.
*Click.*
J: ...Next caller?

...Oh, wait, that was it.

Alright, so, Experiment- Tell us. You were around during the first Rikti War. How was it.

*Silence for a few moments, and then Experiment begins to speak.*

E: Imagine, Mr. Ballard, seeing your friends cut down around you. Seeing them vaporized to dust and pounded into the ground, knowing that if you'd gotten to them a second or two earlier, they'd be safe.

Imagine, if you will, Mr. Ballard, the sun disappearing from view, and knowing, if you died that day, that would be it. That would have been your last view of the sun. The last time you felt it's warmth. Felt yourself rejuvinated.

Imagine, John, your feelings of success at pushing back the invading forces greatly dimished by the feeling of horror at the sight of the death and destruction at your feet. The guilt of knowing that you, growing in age as you are, stand, living, above all these young men and women, who still had a full life ahead of themselves.

Imagine--*

*Commercials start, with a message stating, 'See you next week for another... 'Exciting' episode of Paragon City Times Radio, where news goes into your ears!'*

"So," John said, ascending the steps he had managed to track down due to the excessive use of arrow-signs and doors that were labelled 'stairway,' "I'm guessing, from all the noise up above, we're missing something big."

He jumped over some trash, probably left from a drunk passenger, and continued. "Which could make this MUCH easier, or MUCH harder- Does this mean NOBODY is guarding the cargo because everything is so hectic up above... Or are a BUNCH of people guarding the cargo because of all the ruckus?"

((They find it sexy.))

((...What? They do.))

((Yes, I know I have to reply. Lemme just finish some stuffz and I'll get right on it.))

((XD I was like '...Did he spell my name wrong?'

Oh, how I love missing letters in words.

...Just thought I'd mention that.))

"Oh, you wouldn't want to make me bet on it," John said, grinning widely, "I'd probably start another fire just to win. I'm cheap that way. To the deck, you say?"

As John proceeded to the stairway he had taken to get down here, he glanced over at a door, and sighed. "Don't you sometimes wish... From the very bottom of your heart..."

He turned to White, a look of genuine sadness in his eyes, "That you were a Jedi?"

He continued to the stairs, sighing. "I do."

John raised an eyebrow as the girl left, turning a negative look to White. "I don't know if threatening to KILL her was very good- She's probably just doing her job, whatever it is."

He leaned against the closest wall, sighing.

"So, any idea where the hold is? Because I have absolutely no idea where I'm going."

...Wait....

...

...People actually PLAY the game that comes with the forums?

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"Ah!" White Masque said to John, holding up a finger as politely as possible. "One second while I have a word with this lass here who wants to kill us. Again."

And with that, White Masque flicked the green veign woman across the nose, blew her a ridiculously forgettable raspberry, and walked away with John.

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"Oh, she was talking to US? Huh." He turned back to her, grinning, threw a dime toward her, and said, in the most Old Ben voice he could muster, "Fifteen now... Twenty five, when you forget our faces."

He turned to White, grinning still. "Which of course would mean I don't have to pay her! Oh, I'm SO smart."

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"From what I've seen of the metas here, most everybody knows about it. Some are guarding it. Some are seeking it. Whoever owns it isn't picky about their employment methods. So SOMEBODY must know where it is."

Then he said something about tall and short people.

"There's this hilariously bad midget performer on deck three, I think." He mused.

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"Yeah, uh... He wasn't really a midget... He was just really short compared to the OTHER guy," he shrugged, glancing from door to door, each one obviously not being the cargo hold- By now, he was beyond lost, but didn't feel like mentioning it. "The only reason I know about the box is because I work as an editor slash investigator slash super-hero- Though, I won't tell you which one- and they reported it. I just want to know what's inside. Is that so wrong?"

John smacked his face as the fire alarm began, and was shut off yet again. "Jebus. It was so peaceful before I woke up today. No blaring alarms, no gassed rooms, no Crey..." He continued down the hallway he'd already been proceeding down, glancing around the corner boredly. "It's almost like it's the world's lot in life to keep that box hidden."

He raised an eyebrow, before turning to White Masque. "I have a question- Surely the box must have, like, REAL guards. Robots or mystics or mutants or whatever matches the contents of said container." He frowned, but his eyes showed his sarcastic tone, "So my question is- Where the heck is the cargo hold?! I mean, seriously.

"I've been up and down this ship, and I haven't even seen any guard cliches except you- Guy in Suit- but you haven't tried to stop me finding the box yet." He began walking down a random hallway, before stopping, thumping his face, and sighing.

"I apparently have the shortest memory span ever. Tall Guy Short Guy. That is, like, the ARCHETYPE of door-guarding-ness," he turned to White Masque, which cued the first time he stopped to let the guy even answer anything, "Do you know where a tall guy is? Preferably with a shorter-slash-much shorter guy with him?"

Briggs... Briggs...

...Maybe you were around during my 'depresso-leaveo' phase. Real life has a way of kidnapping us from the forums for a time.

Welcome back. ^__^

"Yes, a dramatic chase," John said, his good humor returning in full force, "As you sped into a stairway, dashing down the steps, I will have slipped under the banisters, landing mere inches behind you."

He proceeded to walk down a hallway, glancing around for someone to inform of the gassed room, while still chattering, mostly to himself, "You wheeled around, barely missing me with a spinning kick, while I attempted to trip you. You leaped over my leg, falling a few floors, and landing on your feet.

"As we entered a ballroom, I lost you. I felt your presence, and leaped up onto a chandelier. You were on an opposite one, and we had an epic sword fight as we swung at each other. Then, for humor, both our bars broke, and the chandeliers began rolling down a hallway. We struck at each other, almost falling off each one. As we..."

...He would keep going like that until he found someone, or he was interrupted, so let's leave the rest to our imaginations.

((Trust me, I already thought up the next few minutes worth. XD))

A look of mock hurt crossed John's face, before he turned away from White, and crossed his arms like a six year old. "Well... Well... You look... Like a dummy-head! So... So there!"

However, he then sighed and his arms fell. "That sounded funnier in my head. Isn't it weird how it always seems to turn out that way?"

He turned around, but both his smile and his mock-hurt were gone. "Seriously though, I'm actually a bit worried. A room on this yacht had poison gas as a safety measure. Sure, it's to be expected from Crey, but that means more DANGEROUS stuff might be aboard." He scratched his chin, sighing. "...And I'm risking my life to find out what's in a box. Is that sad or what?"

Deciding he had enough breath that he could waste some, John smiled, and said "Are you kidding? It's like a nice, warm sauna!"

...Of course, then he dashed out, because he had quickly run out of oxygen. He berated himself in his mind, reminding himself that he could joke AFTER leaving the room-o'-gas. He went around the corner of the door, breathed in heavily, then coughed, then began breathing normally again.

"Pfft, gas. I would have punched that gas in the face if you gave me more time. Totally."

((...Why do I have to be Mr. Pink...))

John nodded, before taking a very deep breath- His estimations have been off before, and he didn't feel like under-estimating the time it would take for the door to open.

At least with the vent sealed off, none of this stuff would start venting into any other rooms unneedingly, but the gas in the room might still be a factor, if it didn't dissipate once it reached an open area such as the hallway. John turned to the door, assuming the common position of impatience, tapping his foot and crossing his arms.

Just because he was being threatened by toxic gas didn't mean he couldn't get a chuckle out of the situation.

Glancing back at the burning door, John nodded, sighing. "Alright, cool, so, room filling with gas, and now somebody is burning a hole in the door. My only problem with that, since, y'know, I like the whole 'not being in a gas-filled room' part, is that I want to know how much gas this place pumps out. Citizens on the boat and all."

He backed toward the door, away from the closest vent to him, a spike jutting out from his right arm. "Also- I don't know if the guy burning a hole in a door is on our side or not. So, really, everything's about as safe as usual. Wouldn't you say... Uh, Mr. White?"

((Dude! I just remembered Reservior Dogs! XD God, I'm a dork.))

((Bear? What bear? Did I mention a bear? ...Even if I DID, you can't prove it now! See? Suit! SUIT!

...Restart the stopwatch.))

John raised an eyebrow at the man in the suit. "You want to go through the vents making the gas flow into the room? I-- ...You know what? I don't think that's unbelievable at this point."

He glanced back at the door, his spike still firmly lodged inside it. "If you can find a way out through the vents, then that would be terrific. But that girl, she said that what we were looking for wasn't in here... How would she know that?"

He looked back up at the gas, now quite a fair bit lower, and sighed. "Okay, less talky, more avoid-dying...y. How do you plan I get out of here? I can't hold my breath for immeasurably long, and I need oxygen to live. And gas doesn't help my whole 'being healthy' requirement of life."

((*Mindbreak.* WaaaAAAH!!! Okay, so, Devious alerted me to the post I missed, so then I was like, okay, I'll delete my last post, then I come here, and Paradigm replied, so I was thinkin', okay, okay, so, I missed one, and was gonna reply to the other, but now someone else replied, and then... And now, I refresheded, and you replied with something else while I was thinking and...

...Ow. v_v Okay, okay, I've got this, I'm good, I'm caught up, alright. I had a mental breakdown of some sort, but I'm okay now. I'm good... Okay...

...Restart the stop watch.))

John raised an eyebrow to the man in the white suit, before chuckling. "Okay, good, no death-beam-wielding psychos yet... Your suit doesn't have a death beam, does it? And are you a psycho?"

He smiled at his own joke, before shaking his head and bowing. "I am John Ballard, PCT Editor and civilian. If we're looking for the same thing, then I would be glad to help, and appreciate the same. I've heard it described as a box with metal plating around it, if that doesn't sound too wei--"

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The woman must not have been abrasive enough because he couldn’t hear her over the hum of the engineering room. Watching him enter the larger safe door, the woman ripped off her welding mask.
“Oh are you kidding me?!” She gets up and speaks through the crack that made by the spike, “whoever the hell you are, you just stumbled into the private deposit box for Countess Crey and she’s sending a very special test subject to Thailand that she doesn’t want disturbed…so I would imagine that the self-defense system would be kicking in at any time now…I wish I could help but…eh, I just don’t really want to.” She walks a few steps away from the door and then remembers something and goes back to the door. “By the way, that’s not what you are looking for…trust me. Well then, I hope you like acid and nano-spores” The woman walks back over to the door she was working on and continues welding.

All of a sudden, a grate is opened from the ceiling and concentrated sulfuric acid begins to pour into the room.

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"...Ah, that's... That's bad." He turned back to the door, grabbing the remnants of his spike. He pulled on it hard... And it didn't budge. Apparently, he'd lodged it in there respectably good. He glared at it for a second, before chuckling and stepping away from it.

"...Hehe... So... Your turn?"

After a few more minutes after finding the Engine Room, John Ballard had begun walking up and down every hallway to make sure he hadn't missed any doors, and apparently, he had.

He eventually found himself in front of a different style of door, a little larger, and no windows inward. He guessed that this was a place most visitors weren't meant to go into, and since he'd already found the engine room, it was his line of thinking that this would be the cargo hold.

He tried pulling it and pushing it, but it was locked. That made sense, he supposed. So, instead, he looked around the hall, ensuring nobody was looking in his direction, slid his arm toward the side of the door, and ejected an organic spike into where he supposed the lock holding it in place was. A resounding snap, both metallic and organic, made him jump- It was louder than he thought it would be, for sure.

He moved back, pulling the door open, and slipped inside, shutting it behind him. He then stuck the remains of his spike in the corner of the hinge to keep the door closed. Then he turned toward the cargo, breathing out in slight relief.

"Alright, worst case scenario, some employee heard that and will try and find out what it was, won't be able to open the door, think it was locked, leave. Simple. Hell, whatever is in this thing shouldn't need metas guarding it, so it's fine..." He thought for a few moments, and facepalmed. "I bet this thing has metas guarding it."

((I can't tell if that's a shot at Toy Dispenser or not. XD *Remembers the 'Underwear' contest at the D.* *Shivers.* The images shall haunt my mind for eternity and beyond.))

As the huge man and the decidedly shorter man passed him, John very nearly burst out laughing. He'd always found it funny how those two descriptions always seemed to mix. Although, funnier in more extreme cases. Such as an elephant and a mouse, perhaps.

Nonetheless, he was getting off-track- He'd descended a few floors, glancing up and down the halls at each stop between stairways. He was yet to find anything labelled 'cargo room', or something that even looked similar from outside, so decided to simply make his way as far down as possible. This eventually led him to the end of this staircase, and he had to cross a hallway to get to the next one. He proceeded down this one, until he came to as door, similar to most of the others.

He attempted to peer into the window, but it was steamed up- He supposed he was closer to the engine room than a cargo hold. "Damn... Alright, maybe I can get into the cargo hold through the... Engine room? Very doubtful... Alright, let's go back up and see if I missed a door somewhere," he said, heading back up the stairway- This was going to take longer than he thought.

Alarms? Muffled sounds of combat? Mysterious cargo?

"...Eh, I guess that's nothing really UNUSUAL these days, but still... Expected it to take at LEAST a few days for it to start happening."

As the blonde, blue-eyed man stood from his bed, he observed the room- He hadn't been able to afford a very expensive one, which was to be expected from having a simple job like 'Editor of the Paragon City Times,' and not only that, sometimes having to take time off work for the whole 'super-hero' bit cut into his pay a little.

The room itself was rather small. It had a bed, drawers, a mirror, a closet, the usual for a room of this size, but over on a wooden desk in the corner sat a laptop and a video screen, items brought on board by the occupant of said room. The laptop was on an informative page about the ship itself, about the departure time, the locations, events going on at certain times, that sort of thing. Of course, being John Ballard, the screen also had about twelve minimized tabs with funny HeroTube videos and a page of 'How to Make Your Best Spaghetti Bolognese Dish.'

Coincidentally, a plate with remnants of the meal was in front of the video screen, which was paused on a picture of a hero in bright red armour fighting some thugs in red and orange clothes.

The editor had come on board after recieving a tip from some citizens of Paragon City, about some container being brought on board. One of the citizens had a brother working at the dock that the box was loaded at, and it was not only armour-plated, but nobody he asked knew what was inside.

Of course, this got John curious, and when he gets curious, he's pretty much guaranteed to look into it.

He put on his 'relaxed' clothes, which, strangely enough, were not composed of a trench coat or cape. A loose white t-shirt, long jeans, and black shoes composed his wardrobe. Not interesting clothes, granted, but that was the point. He fit in well with the non-meta passengers.

He left his cabin, a couple walking by him toward the sun-lit deck. He noticed a few people out there, and judging by the height and build of some of them, and especially the wardrobe, he guessed most of them were metas.

He went in the opposite direction, looking for the stairs downward- The cargo hold would be downstairs on most ships, he guessed. He could come up with some excuse to get into the cargo hold if he wasn't let in immediately, but if the container wasn't in there, he'd have to search some more unlikely places.

"Shouldn't be TOO hard," he muttered to himself, proceeding down a stairway, "After all, not like it's easy to hide a weird crate without people getting uneasy. Follow the uneasy people... Well, I suppose the majority of people on the ship being super-powered might make them uneasy too, but whatever..."