Sibling

OK, this thread is kinda weird, and ties in with another thread of late about male and female 'Toons, who plays them and whether you can judge a guy or girl from their language and 'Toon clothes. We can only imagine that everyone is discussing verbal play, as we cannot imagine what would get your jollies about seeing this. Especially at the low rez of this game, and we do not of any good /commands for initiating it.
We enjoy good Anime as much as anyone, and some Princess movies can liven up any Friday night, but we don't think CoH is the place for graphic action. Verbal fun, well, that's fun anywhere. Not only that, but you should see the tips some good language skills can get a girl. I certainly think the only place for anything like this is /whisper or /tell, unless you are on an exclusive team, and then it's your business. Passing two 'Toons standing on a street is fine, if the conversation is private, no one is the wiser. If you are localing it and I pass by, you might hear a "Gross" or "Get a room!"
Me, I have had one or two adventures with other female 'Toons, in very private talks, and we are cool with that. One thing: you better make sure you are talking to an adult, very sure.
We are always in for RP, that's how we live, so Sibling is available for RP-ing. Ladies only please.

Yeah, I did it in Word and noticed that indents don't work. Thank you for the suggestion.

“We can’t keep this up,” she said into the cold morning air, trying to stretch some of the stiffness out of her neck. “It’s been almost two weeks since we slept in a bed, and half that long since we had a good meal.”
For emphasis she held up one skeletal hand, covered in pasty flesh that was far too taught for a 24 year old. There was dried blood and unidentifiable types of dirt speckled over her arms, filthy fingernails with chips and some evidence of the cold taking a toll. Her knuckles were swollen and she was sure arthritis had already started. Looking around the dark alley, her tears started again as they did often these days.
“I know, I feel it to…I’m sorry Angela, but we couldn’t stay any longer.” Her hands moved to wipe tears away from her eyes, leaving essentially the only clean streaks on her face. Her misery and wretchedness were not seen by anyone else, but she was still ashamed of it. Not having nice clothes, not always enough to eat, being isolated in a world she could never shut out were all companions from birth; being filthy and cold were recent additions.
The lower pitched voice came again, “I just don’t know what else to do, we have to go to the city for help.”
“We can’t! Crey almost caught us the last time! We won’t go back to that lab, it would be better to die.” She was shaking uncontrollably, her voice rising in hysterics to something near a scream. That proved to be her first serious mistake in some time.
The fire escape rang with sudden booted footsteps from above, rattling against the aging lag bolts holding into the chipped plaster of the brick wall. She looked up in enough time to know that this dark day might be her last. At least ten gray and black clad figures were pouring off the three story roof onto the steel ladder, the gang that held sway in this part of King’s Row, The Skulls.
“Hey little girl,” the largest of them sneered from one level above the street. “did you say you were lookin’ to die?” His gang was waiting along the railings, a couple with baseball bats or long knives flashing. She knew that killing was one of the Skulls rites, but didn’t believe that was all they would want.
She backed across the alley, as far as she could in the narrow space, until the cold bricks of the next building were pressing into her back. There was nowhere to go, the alley ended in dumpsters and another three story business, and the entrance already held several “Bones” leering at her. She was so tired and so hungry, even when she was feeling well this would have been too much.
“Please, we aren’t looking for any trouble,” Angela began.
“We?” The thug looked down the alley from one end to the other, “You got an invisible friend somewhere? Maybe we get two for one?” Harsh laughter rained down on the lone woman’s form like the misery and pain she felt.
Terrified, panicking and hopeless; that was how the first episode had been, too. That was when Cliff had been the brother and Angela the sister, when they had lived with their parents, before the incident that had started their long slide into today. The first time The Gestalt had happened.
Her mind went white, eyes rolled into her head and the voice that had been quiet and female, or lower and male by turns, took on the qualities of two rocks grinding together, impossible in so small a body.
“You will not touch her!” With an authority that left no question.
Even the Bone Daddy, Kneecapper, stood still for a moment, a suppressed shiver in his back. He had faced Heroes before, so it quickly passed. No little skirt was going to prevent this fun, and his men were witnesses.
“Kill her!” He bellowed, leaping off the landing and starting a negative energy attack. If the girl resisted, he knew the powers that provided him his strength would make sure she stayed “alive” long enough for some revenge.
Several things happened in quick succession: Kneecapper was falling and then rising rapidly to land with felt impact on the fire escape, two of his minions who had been rushing down were now convinced they should fight one another, another minion grabbed his splitting head…and the girl fell unconscious to the street.

“Hey kid, you alright?”
She opened her eyes only far enough to see that the man standing over her was not their father, when he shoved something warm and oatmeal-flavored into her mouth. A hand quickly reached up to grab it, to make sure she could eat it all. The quickness of her movement startled the stranger enough he stepped back, causing the immense rifle, barrel still smoking, strapped to his back to swing.
“Whoa! When’s the last time you ate?” His brown hair stood at attention, one half-gloved hand moving through it in a gesture. He watched the girl scuttle backwards like a beaten animal, tearing at the energy bar. He realized she must be almost starved, the bones in her face were visible beneath her skin, but what disturbed him most was the feral look in her eyes.
”You don’t need to thank me,” he strung out the last word for effect, “it looked like you were about to rise up from the grave and save yourself.” He was sarcastic but kept his tone gentle, this girl was as near outright panic as anyone he had ever seen. “Seriously, can you understand me?”
“We understand,” she said around the last bite of the Ms. Liberty Insta-End bar. “What do you want?” Her voice changed from definitely female to somehow masculine in mid-sentence.
He didn’t notice it immediately. “I only want to make sure you are OK. I’m a Hero, that’s what we do.” He smiled and slung the weapon tighter across his broad back. “You know, helping old ladies, purse-snatchers, taking down gangs.” The more he looked, the more it appeared this might be someone suffering Superadine withdrawl. It was eating up the city, but he knew a good clinic, and there were always beds for those he brought in.
“No, no drugs,” she said quietly. “I’ve been living on the streets, trying to stay off their grid.” The surprise on his face brought a small smile to her wane lips, “The Crey grid.”
She tapped the side of her head and stood up slowly, “We can read thoughts, at least some thoughts. And it is ‘We’.” Again the voice had changed quickly and seamlessly.
“Well, if you are on the run from the Crey, you ran into the right guy.” He pulled a small pouch, one of many, open at his belt and removed several small packets. Holding them up to the early light, she could see that they were Paragon Protector badges.
“I try not to mess them up, if I can help it. This one took some heat when the owner decided he stood a chance against old Mack here,” the man patted his rifle’s butt.
“By the way, I’m Mr. Fixit,” he held out one large hand.
“Sibling, sir, “ she shook it with her much smaller one. “Cliff wants to say he’s sorry, but you have to understand, nobody else has ever given us something for nothing.”
“Cliff?” The Hero looked puzzled, glancing behind him.
“Angela and Cliff, that’s us. We both share this body, that’s why we call ourselves ‘Sibling’. It’s a long story, but we don’t have time. Thank you Mr. Fixit, maybe we can help you one day.”
“The day is young, and my patrol is over. Actually, those Skulls helped me clean up a job I overlooked. I need to get back to my Contact with this,” he held up a bracelet that caught the light, light that didn’t look entirely earthly.
“I tell you what…Sibling?” he cocked an eyebrow, then continued when she nodded her head. “I’ll buy you breakfast at the Cafeteria in City Hall if you want to go that far, and maybe you can tell me a little of your story?”
“We are still filthy, and don’t have anywhere to go to clean up. Thank you for your kindness, but you have given enough.” She stared up at the man, but her eyes showed her shame. He had saved her life, obviously, given her food and even the offer of assistance, but the twins did not beg or shame their friends.
“No prob,” he waved a hand and quickly pointed, “I own that building. It’s a gym with showers and plenty of workout wear. You can shower in there and get cleaned up, and I’ll loan you some clothes until we can get you registered with the city.”
“Never!” The girl’s panicked voice was back and she took a step away.
“Not under your real name! None of the Heroes in Paragon go by their real names.” He held out his hands in peace. “The city is also really good about asking for only minimal info, and I have a friend in G.I.F.T. that will want to meet you.”
She stepped forward, head bowed sheepishly.
I told you he could be trusted, Angela silently said to Cliff in their head.
You are the telepath, He replied.
Mr. Fixit was fishing around in another pouch and the sound of keys was heard.
“Looks like it might be a good day,” he called behind him as Sibling crossed the street.
Looks like it might be a good day, indeed, the twins agreed.
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This will be an ongoing thread if anyone is pleased, post comments are appreciated, good, bad or ugly.

5th Column has you on the list? We would bet your name is below our's on that list, stomping 5th Column is our favorite sport, see the listing on Ge-Stompin' Boots in another list. You find some, low, high or otherwise, give us a call. We'll cross the whole city to be in on Brown Shirt laundry, and we'll bring the popcorn.
Now you got us all worked up, man we HATE those goons! At least Tsoo and CoT leave the general population alone (usually), stinking Nazi's want to convert everyone...kick them square in the...busted piece...in their Cheerio's if we get...make a yard ornament out of helmets...
We'll be looking for you.

Evelyn, Do you handle sexual harrassment cases, or now someone good who does. If we get one more rejection on our level 17 clearance, we are gonna hammer someone, and Jack Blaitner down at City Hall is our main problem. He even has some of our contacts telling us that we need to get to 17 before they can help us! Never failed a mish, and now this.
Try explaining it, Cliff doesn't like guys (like that!) and neither does Angela. Won't take "no" for an answer, so we had to apply a little "positive reinforcement". Did get the Disease Stopper Badge today though , so at least someone likes us.

We are certain that there are many members of the despotic, hate-mongering 5th Column that routinely listen in on the public broadcasts and even the more private conversations of individuals over the air. Your sniveling, cowardly spying is actually of use to us now, because this is your notice.
On the way home from work tonight (some of us actually work so we can pay taxes to support your Goose-Stepping rights), we will be picking up our new pair of Danner (tm) "Gestapo Stomper" specials from the factory on Marine Blvd, right off Patriot Port. We had these custom made, hand-sewn (nothing like good Orc Leather), with the ceramic arch guard and Raised Star steel toe, with Nazi-Helmet can opener heel spurs. When Sibling commences to busting up your Heiling street corner speeches this evening, you can sport your new Six-Sided Star scars in the Zig. Hopefully we can arrest enough of you that you can start your own gang in there.
There has been this really disturbing rumor of late that there might even be some of your criminal kind trying to infiltrate the Hero ranks. Fat chance, Goebbels-kind (or Gobble-kind, you know, with that sack of red flesh like a turkey gobble). You will be brought to justice.
We now call upon our fellow heroes, large, small and of all orientations, to help us thwart this disgusting affront to the freedom and liberty of fair Paragon City. Join us in spirit, if not in the flesh. May the Goddess watch over you all.

What, no psychology? How are we supposed to deal with this split personality thing if Paragon City will not acknowledge that just because a hero has voices in their head they are not crazy? Guess we will study the books, maybe a clue to Crey Industries' dirty secrets and Mom's location in some of their old records.

Thang, Saw the man himself last night, we did a little Outcast re-education and had a "Coming to Goddess" meeting with Dr. Vahz's boys. I'd like to know where he hides all those pool tables in downtown, but he did a great job moving one up to our loft last week. Cliff likes his style and Angela is about half afraid of him, so on the whole we admire him. We've been having trouble with P-City admin, slow on getting us our Security Advancement paperwork, so we are currently fighting for level 17. Probably that twerp down at City Hall that made a pass, We heard he is still having nightmares.

If this invasion is anything like the last, they will all just disappear in a few days, never to be seen again. Anyway, I got my full set of Inverted Nazi Helmet Commemorative Toilet Brush Storage deals last night.

Do you know how dangerous it is to put an ad like that in the Times? You must be either desperate or pretty sure of yourself. We were reading the newspaper over our Mueslix and OJ this morning, and I hope this gets to you before the Column does. Not sure what kind of RP you are looking for, we aren't into anything weird, but we do like to talk while we fight.
We've actually found several friends in Paragon since we "left" Crey, both parents are gone (we are still looking for Mom, but don't have much hope), and could always use more. No smoking, no drinking but we'll stand beside any hero and never leave them on the street. We always try to carry a spare Atropine in case things go bad and someone needs to defy the devil (and we are on good terms with The Goddess). Thanks to a friend with some tech knowledge, we have an untraceable phone, cell 555-742-5464. Otherwise, stop at the Info Kiosk and send a /tell to Sibling.

I use a 5th Column Ubermensch helmet to piddle in when on long missions, looks like it's time to get a complete set. Bring on the Nazi's, It's Ge-Stompo Time!

If it isn't part of your character's info, I think I saw a thread on this part of the board about origins, but it's been a while. Might also try the advertisements section.

I guess it's better than sniping people and watching extreme gore like Halo or Doom III. It looks like comics and acts like comics. Don't even go into that "comics cause violence" bit either. I like my CoH, way less physically graphic than other games, and you can't even hurt the innocent. Maybe a "walk little old ladies across the street" mish would be cool now and then, but I like knocking dead guys and evil mystics around.

Utilitarian,
We completely understand that awkward feeling. It was very uncomfortable to approach our current landlord about our loft in The Gish. As luck would have it, we saved him from a group of Baddies a few weeks after we "moved" from Crey Labs, but approaching him in secret identity mode was tough. We had felt he had some room available when he came to thank us after the mugging attempt, then explaining how our other identity knew (he hadn't even posted signs), took some crafty planning. Leave it to Angela.
Anyway, a friend of ours, also a Technology Hero, was just talking the other day about needing someone to sub-let to. Seems that his electricity bills are fairly high (late nights with fusion torches and cryo-sinks working Pentaluminum), and if he could borrow some of your Juice, he might make you a good deal. Full machine shop on the first floor and a neg barrier on the stairs to keep Clocks out. Nice place, but he keeps weird hours and knows some very loud ladies
If you are interested, give us a call. Cell: 555-742-5464. In Copper.

We were reading through the Times this afternoon and saw your request for some clarification in the City's Hero's Backgrounds. Since we have a day job, and don't know you from any one of the numerous Crey spies in the media, we have sent this from the local library to avoid exposure. We do feel it important though to let others know that being different from the average population does not make them alone.
Our history began with an abusive home, the standard story for Crey employee's families. Lower paid and always very tense from work, our father was a man prone to physical outbursts. Our births only exacerbated the situation according to the rare times our mother would speak of it. We do remember nights of shouts and crying. Born identical Paternal Twins, supposedly impossible, only made us that much easier a target.
By the age of ten, we could already sense other's thoughts, and never spoke to one another, there was no need. Our parents had trouble telling Cliff from Angela, which would lead to some pranks. By twelve, our father had decided that he would mark one of us to make it easier to tell.
That part of our story will not be told here, but the result is certainly part of your "Other Super-powers" article. We apologize for the lead-in, but that is important to understanding.
We, Angela and Cliff, were two people that during the incident fused into one body. So, if you see Sibling on the street, seeming to carry on a conversation with no one, we are simply conversing. Angela was always empathic, feeling another's pain or joy, and that continues. She could also say the right thing at the right time, voicing another's feelings or reassuring a worried friend. She has the ability to heal wounds and soothe distraught civilians and heroes.
Cliff was always the aggressive one, and has very strong telekinesis, which can enhance his physical strength. He can add incredible power to a punch or kick, and even encase us in an impenetrable field when another tries to touch Angela. He is athletic, to Olympic proportions in running and jumping.
Being two minds in one body has also increased our capacity for honesty about who and what we are. Everyone lives a unique life, and prejudices are not part of ours. We currently are counselors for a "Hero Support Group" catering to heroes with problem pasts or terrible incidents that were caused by, or resulted from, demonstrations of emerging powers.
We hope this can somehow help our fellow heroes, and civilians alike.

Lady Marvels is Recruiting on Guardian! Started as an all female SG, because Ladies can take care of themselves. We are an RP SG, staying in character is part of the fun, and we never leave a team member behind, or in trouble. Tired of watching a bunch of Testosterone pumped kids aggro every mob around? Join a mature group of Super Powered Women who are proving that it isn't your fist that proves your worth, it's your mind.
Mainly focussed on Controllers, Defenders and Blasters; a Lady should not get into fisticuffs unless her virtue is threatened. We patrol mainly in the early morning, from 4-6AM PST and in the evening by chance. We strive to be a portal SG, giving the less physical Archetypes the experience and knowledge to solo to any level, but also in how to work with a team, helping you get into the big SG's later in life. Think of Lady Marvels as a College for aspiring Heroes.
Like any decent SG, we do not pay in Inf, but with Enh and Insp, and the pay is good. We also help members with their earlier missions (we do not complete your mission for you, but provide back-up and muscle as necessary), up to level 15 at oresent, but increasing as our ranks grow.
Our tenets: 1) We will always come to a members aid. When the call goes out, all SG members on-line will respond.
2) We take care of our own, hospital visits are a thing of the past. If you go down fighting (or even running ) we will stand over you until a healer can bring you back if you choose or fight our way back to you. We do not leave Ladies on the field.
3) There is no minimum or maximum for membership, and many of our members are below 20. Don't feel like a third wheel or worry about foes 10 levels above you on missions, get in on the ground floor.
4) Role Play is Optional, but greatly encouraged. Tell us your story, hear about other Ladies who have escaped Crey Towers, battled Patient Zero and stood toe-to-toe with Dr Vahzilok. That's what the game is about, BEING a Super Heroine.
5) No pesky time allocations, be there when you want and patrol when you feel like it.
If interested, meet Mistress Sibling below In Atlas Park near Ms Liberty at 4:30AM any day of the week, or send a /tell and she can meet you.

Beware the Evil Eye! Sibling is hiding under overpasses while her En recharges. These are some tough mothers, at least The Family can be worked around by cues, these things come right out of thin air. Need Team....Losing consciousness....Out of Meds...