Sooner

Hey... bring on the Europeans. I love a good accent.

Nah... 100 million on each side is plenty. Take Stale influence, my infamy, and run with it.

If the time works out, I'd be glad to help judge or whatever.

Ya.. it's kinda hard gettin ahold of your schedules so we can plan these things out, too.

I'll put up 100Mill Infamy for it.

You want honesty? Do it in a PM. I am NOT going to rake you or anyone else over the coals on the forums, and most people aren't either.

It's a kind of ugliness I'd prefer were not on this forum.

And just because you INVITE personal attacks, doesn't make it ok.

Ny... I would love to join you!

You have your choice of five scrappers, 3 blasters, a couple trollers, a defender, a tank, a PB or a WS.

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And Troy lands another stalker!

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Oh... I've always been one of his stalkers.

I'm just not very good at it.

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Second, I have never seen you be offensive, in any place other then the one place that all protectorites should expect to be offended that being "Jello Shooters" Honestly the MOTD on the channel says what it says for a reason.

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Jello Shooters is a public channel that was set up for everyone to use. Being offensive and then hiding behind the MOTD is as stupid as him doing the same thing and hiding behind his Aspergers.

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.... and again... this is completely true.

There is a story behind that message of the day. I expect that even most of the people who were around at the time don't know the actual reason it was put in place.

I was part of the discussion involved in putting that message in place, and let me assure you... it does NOT mean "Feel free to behave like a giant jackass."

As Slan said, it IS still a public channel. You are still part of a community.

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As far as I can tell, this guy spends an inordinate amount of time in online communities and eventually pisses people off with his relentless "attention-[censored]." He appeared to get a clue around last Christmas, when he posted his long goodbye post describing his internet problems.

But nope, he came back and situated himself on Protector. Now he's asking the disinterested forum community at large if he should stay, so that he can tell the naysayers to S T F U.
Some comments on Asperger's:

1. It's not an excuse to be an [censored].
2. People with the condition will often use it to manipulate other people to get sympathy, attention, etc.
3. It's true that Aspies seek interaction online, because they don't have to deal with all the nonverbal, social context stuff.

That's not a good thing. Online interaction is exactly what they don't need. It actually reinforces bad behavioral patterns and if things start to go south with people, as in this case, they just hop in to another community and repeat the same cycle.

If anyone either 1. can't stand this guy or 2. actually cares about his social development they should vote that he leaves the server, leaves the game, turns the computer off, shoves the cats off his lap, and drags his lazy [censored] out into the real world for some actual social interaction.

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This.

Yes.

*waits for the world to end*

Hey there.... Ah... helps if I input your name correctly when searching for it....

Funny how I couldn't find you when I searched for Troy_Hickman.

Kyo,

If you're frustrated with NPWN, perhaps turn it over to someone else?

Since a good chunk of that money came from me. I hate to see just all thrown away on one costume contest.

Please, consider letting someone else take over instead of just giving up on it?

Thanks.

Still out there?

Happy Birthday, fuzzy!

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If I get enough "Stay" votes, does that mean I get to tell all the haters to S T F U?

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Listen.... you have every right to be on whatever server you want. If everyone came in here and voted a resounding NO!!! we still couldn't keep you from logging in here. And if we all voted "Oh! Please stay!" we couldn't compel you to stay. So.. it doesn't really matter what Protector votes, now does it?

The truth is that you are not going to get an honest answer this way. Very few people are going to be willing to come on here and say, "Ya, GTFO!" So... you're going to get the "STAY!" votes from people who want you to stay, the neutral comments from people who don't give a crap, and neutral comments from people who wish you would leave, and very very very few people who wish you would leave who will be willing to say so.

But... it brings me back to my original point: What does it matter? In the end you're going to stay here or leave based on you OWN decision.

So... you can tell "the haters" whatever you want... just man up, decide what you want to do, and do it.

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I'm getting a bit of anger and irritation directed at me from various sources on the server, just from me being me. So, I'll just put it to a vote and let you guys decide whether you want me around or not.

Should I stay?

Or should I go?

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Seriously? You'd pack up and go for this? $%@& that, they want you gone, let 'em come and try making you leave.

/e drawglock

Bring it!

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Wait... I'm confused... who are we shooting at?

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I'm getting a bit of anger and irritation directed at me from various sources on the server

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IT WASN'T ME!!!!!

I'm innocent!

Yes, it has. A bit.

Actually... ALL of them have been edited a bit as I repost them in RP. Sometimes it's just to smooth out a rough edge or two, sometimes it's to correct a mistake I made the first time through.

Part 8 of Homecoming is up in RP.

Ebony Rose
The Shades of Vengeance base

Rose normally maintained an attitude of calm. It was gone. She was furious. One of the two men following her into the small meeting room had betrayed her trust and she would not stand for it.

She whirled to face them, as Razor 6 stalked in behind her, and then Conall Cian brought up the rear in his guise of a human detective, but his own emotions showed in the flames flickering out of his eyes.

Before Rose could speak, however, Conall slammed shut the door behind him, and pointed an accusing finger at Rose. “You just couldn’t bear to kill her, could you, Rose? Your soft heart is going to be the end of you someday, and I just hope it doesn’t take the rest of us with it when it happens,” he sneered. He then turned to Razor, “You should have let me have her, Razor-”

Before Conall could speak further, Rose’s anger burst out, “Oh no, you will NOT get out of this by accusing me! You defied BOTH of us by taking her! What have you done with her?! Where is she?”

“I? I have done nothing with her,” Conall spat. “But when I find her and recapture her, I’ll see to it that Razor bars YOU from interacting with her. You have shown yourself to be unable to effectively manage prisoners.”

Rose slammed her hands down on the table in front of her. “How DARE you! You monstrous thing! How dare you try to hide your own craven actions by accus-”

“Craven?!” The demon roared, and slipped into his red-skinned formed, dark energy seeping off his body. “You are a soft-hearted weak human-” He advanced menacingly on Rose, and she responded by lifting her prosthetic arm and popping open the control panel. The demon wouldn’t live long enough to set a finger on her. She reached for the buttons that summoned her robots and would give control of the base defenses to her hand.

Razor stepped forward between them, raising both his hands and bellowing, “ENOUGH!” The force of his personality was enough to bring the feuding rivals to a stop before either could do something they would regret. “Stand down! Both of you!” he ordered. There was a long pause when both Rose and Conall stood motionless, then Conall took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Rose!” Razor spoke firmly, and Rose swivelled her eyes to him. He held her gaze until she lowered her arms and stood glaring angrily.

The room was silent, and the silence stretched on. Rose took the opportunity to drag her raging emotions back under control. Finally Razor turned to Conall. “Did you take the Kheldian prisoner, Conall?” he asked.

“I did not,” Conall answered deliberately, his anger still roughening his voice.

“And are you lying to me?” Razor stared challengingly at the demon as he asked.

The demon tossed his horned head back and stared a challenge at Razor. “You told me to leave her to Rose. For now, there is no reason for me to defy your command. I will not lie to you, it serves me no purpose.”

Razor turned to Rose then, who had managed to assume her normal calm again. “Rose, did you help the prisoner escape?”

Rose tossed her head in an unconscious mimicry of the demon. “I. Did. Not.” she answered firmly.

“Now,” Conall broke in. “Ask HER if she’s lying.”

Razor looked back at the demon, and answered him, “She would not.”

Rose felt a smile crook the corner of her mouth at his words. She threw up her hands then. “Sit, sit. Everyone sit.” She followed her words by settling herself in a chair and crossing her hands on the table. Razor followed her actions, and Conall, after a long pause, took two steps forward and sat as well.

Rose turned her blue eyed gaze to Razor. “Did you kill her? Did you do it to save me from it?”

Razor smiled every so slightly. “I did not,” he answered.

Silence fell over the room again, before Rose cleared her throat. “There was a short in the electrical system that shut off the quantum array in her cell. The cot was in pieces and the panel was broken. Everyone was at the meeting. With her powers back, she had the opportunity to escape on her own.”

“She would not have.” Conall answered. “She didn’t have the will to take that kind of action to help herself.”

Rose looked up at the demon and forced her next words out. “I did.” she said, in a near whisper. Both men just looked at her as she met the demon’s gaze and held it. “I was a prisoner far longer than she was. I suffered worse injury than she did.” She tapped her prosthetic arm with a slim finger. “ And I had the will to engineer my escape when the opportunity arose.”

“No,” Conall shook his head. “Not this one.”

Razor raised his hands again. “It doesn’t matter at this moment. How can this hurt us?”

Silence filled the room, until Rose answered, “She knew nothing. The only harm to us is the embarrassment of allowing an escape.”


Thin Line
The Shades of Vengeance base

[Thin Line is a very interesting character, but I am not telling his story here. For now, I will just explain that he has studied his own life extensively through Ouroboros, and that he has an obsession with Bounty-Killer.]

He had looked forward to this day. A new chapter began for him here. It must be handled carefully, but today, the game changed.

He approached the two enormously muscled men lounging outside the entrance. They eyed him cautiously, and both came off the wall as he stepped closer. He showed his teeth in a smile. If they’d been dogs, their hackles would have been up. Of course, if they were dogs, he was a wolf, and they knew it.

“Ebony Rose.” he said.

The two exchanged a glance, and then the moderately larger of the two said, “What about her?”

“We have an appointment.” SHE didn’t know about the appointment, but these cretins hardly needed to know that. Thin Line sighed as the two just exchanged glances again. Obviously, they were chosen for this role more for their physiques than for their intellects. “It’s about a job. Take me to see her.”

The pair exchanged glances again, then the larger opened the door and gestured for Thin Line to precede him. Given that it was their base and all, he shrugged and allowed it. He made a show of glancing around the impressively fortified base, as if he didn’t already know it by heart.
“Where’s the boss lady?” his guide asked as they entered a large common room.

Thin Line relished the thrill of excitement as they came closer and closer to the closed door. He reminded himself again how delicate the next few moments were. In other timelines, in other realities, he arrived just as the Shade’s entire base exploded. In others, the base remained intact, but the leaders of the Shades were still dead. And in still others, only one of the people in that room walked out and which one it was impacted the future of the Rogue Isle and Paragon City indelibly. This was his reality though, and it was all that mattered. He smiled as the door swung open and an irritated soprano voice called out, “No, this is NOT a good time!”

Thin Line chuckled as he pushed past his escort and stepped into the room. “No, but it’s the time we have, so let’s make the best of it.” He chuckled again at the expressions on the three faces. The red-skinned demon glared like a pit bull when a stranger walks onto his turf, the pale haired man watched him expectantly, his expression said as clearly as words, “This had better be DAMN good,” The dark haired woman, the one he was there to see, looked at him as if he were a particularly interesting and possibly dangerous species of insect. “Gentlemen, and Lady, I am here to offer my services, to make myself available in whatever way I can. Ms. Rose, I understand you recently had occasion to hire a colleague of mine to acquire a certain item for you.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. He broadened his smile. Bounty-Killer would have tried charming her at this point, but Thin Line had no interest in wasting his time that way.

The large... no, enormous demon rose to his feet, took two ground shaking steps on his hoofed feet and growled, “She said, ‘this is not a good time.’”

Thin Line laughed. “I get ya. You’re a badass. All y’all are badasses.” He advanced into the room and settled one hip on the table. “I’m here to make you an offer you can’t refuse. Ms. Rose, you have a job for me. I’ll do it, I’ll do it well. I’ll do it for you at no charge at all. And in return, whenever you have a job that you’d consider calling Bounty-Killer for, consider calling me.”

“I do not have a job for you.” Rose leaned back in her chair, and Thin Line knew that the casual way she rested her right hand on her prosthetic left wrist was not casual at all. It meant the same as a gunslinger with his hand on the butt of his pistol. He nodded to show he noticed.

“‘This is not a good time,’ you said. This is the only time. You don't realize it yet, but you have a job for me. A very important job. So, put that big brain of yours to the problem, and see if maybe you can’t figure out how I can be the solution.”

Rose and Razor exchanged a significant glance, and Conall nodded at both of them. “Perhaps....” Rose started, then stood. “Perhaps you could help us clean up a mess.”

Thin Line exited the Shade’s base an hour later with a photo of a certain doomed young warshade, a job, and the knowledge that his next chapter was well underway.

But still exciting.

For those of you who can't be with your father on this fathers day, I bring you:

Interactive Dad

Happy father's day to all our Protector parents.

And if you haven't yet... Call your dad!

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I know people are talking about being able to choose animations and emanation points, but those aren't explicit in the revelations, so far, so I would caution against too much hope for those at this point. Plus, those pictures indicate a single color for both powers (Summon Imps and whatever power is being animated) so I don't think we're getting customization for individual powers; probably a single choice for all powers or per Power Set. I'd be happy with just that, as far as color choices go, but I want to be able to change the character model and height after character creation.

But it is early yet so we'll see more in the future.

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Ya... just being able to designate colors for the power SET would make me just vibrate with happiness.

My dark armor scrapper enveloped in red instead of a greasy black... THAT makes me happy.

Part 7 of Homecoming is posted in RP.

Keely
Sharkhead Isle

The sterile Shades base surrounding Keely vanished. There was a split second of nothingness, and then she dropped a couple of inches to stumble back onto her heels. Her senses were overwhelmed. The air stank of refuse and chemicals. There was something wrong with her eyes, as if her eternity confined in a tiny cell had robbed her of her ability to clearly see more than a few yards. She faced a dirty, noisy factory. The night sky loomed low overhead with a thick cover of clouds.

She didn’t remember the world being so very big, and began to tremble. She turned, and let out a short scream as she realized she was standing in front of a pair of mausoleums. She darted into the narrow space between them and cowered there on the bare, dirty gravel, staring out into the big, scary night. She knew she couldn’t remain there, she knew she had to move, but she was frozen, held paralyzed by her own fear and uncertainty. She tried again to call the Kheldian forward - she needed its help - but it was even more frightened than she was.

She had no idea how much time had passed, only that the blurry glow of the moon behind the clouds had moved well across the sky, before she finally managed to push herself to her feet and emerge again. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust, but she could still only clearly see a short distance. She hoped it was just that she wasn’t used to being able to see distance, and not a lingering affect of the abuse she’d suffered. She made herself remember Keely, the young brash woman she’d been, a young woman who hadn’t been afraid of anything. She pretended to be that person, pulled that attitude over herself like a coat, and started walking, trying to behave like she knew where was going and she belonged there.

She was forced by the terrain to veer north along the broken down wall of a decrepit graveyard, but she wasn’t afraid of a few spirits. She knew very well that there were much worse things to be frightened of. As she left the graveyard and picked her way across the uneven dirt to the wall surrounding the industrial complex, she saw a man in a security guard’s uniform. She briefly considered running to him and asking him to help her, but then he turned to her, and something in the way he ran his eyes over her told her he would be no help to her at all.

She made her way between the high walls topped with razor wire and under towering metal spires supporting electrical cables. She came to a horrified stop when she realized her path was taking her through a canal of truly disgusting water. She glanced back the way she came, but decided it was better to keep moving to the east than risking getting lost in Sharkhead. She clenched her teeth and swung over the wall, wading through the foul water. She heard more than saw something very large ahead and to her right, and veered far from it. Her vision was still blurry, but the things looked like nothing so much as huge piles of animate garbage.

She gratefully climbed out of the water and tried to convince herself that her skin wasn’t burning as she continued east. She finally found a road, and hurried along it. It was so late that there were very few people around, and that was just fine with her. She started to cut through another standing pool of water, but there were more of those trash monsters, and she didn’t dare get too close. She stared to the east and wished both that she was able to assume nova form, and that she could risk doing so. She shook her head and followed the road instead.

The road curved into a residential area, with numerous dirty brick buildings likely crammed full of tiny cramped apartments. The walls were decorated with graffiti and the streets lined with trash. There were very few people around, most of them dressed in cheap clothing and wrapped in a palpable aura of hopelessness. Men in brightly colored suits lounged at street corners, oozing danger, and even the workers in their dirty overalls and hard hats seemed ready to commit violence at the slightest provocation. She decided that Sharkhead was an ugly place, in every sense of the word.

She continued following the road east until she rounded a corner and saw, ahead, the blurry form of an Arachnos spiderbot of some kind. She gasped and darted back around the corner. She plastered herself against the cold bricks behind her and fought to get her fear under control. Her Kheldian was shrieking gibberish and Keely closed her eyes, struggling not to give in to her urge to curl up on the ground and start screaming.

Finally, a semblance of composure returned. She reminded herself that the denizens of the Isles did not run away every time they saw Arachnos troops. Act like you belong here, she reminded herself. She pushed herself away from the wall and opened her eyes to see three young men approaching her. Their clothing and attitudes marked them as typical street toughs, and she’d spent enough time among that type to know her display of fear had already lost her round one with them.

“Hey there, chica,” said the first, his teeth baring grin promising no good for her.

A fourth man, following behind spoke then with a strong lower class English accent, “Leave the skinny bint alone. We got work to do.”

“Ya, leave me alone,” Keely said. She turned away from them, forcing herself to behave as if she wasn’t terrified that they would hurt her. The largest of them, a tall, hulking man reached for her, planting one hand on her shoulder, “Hey, where ya think you’re goin?” he asked.

She turned, and in that moment her fear made her see him as even taller and broader, with red skin, horns, and leathery wings. She shrieked and flailed her arms wildly, striking the first speaker in the nose. She stumbled back, pulling herself free of the big man and running as fast as she could away.

The Arachnos bot turned towards her as she raced out of the alley, but then redirected its attention to the four men following her. She was running too hard and too fast to see what happened, but she heard the bot moving and the running footsteps behind her stopped abruptly. The irony of being saved by Arachnos as she tried to escape the Rogue Isles was heavy.

She raced up a rocky hill and skidded to a stop as she found herself facing a pair of arbiter drones guarding a silvery structure of ramps and towers decorated with Arachnos banners. Behind them was the waspish shape of an Arachnos helicopter.

With her goal in sight, she got her breathing under control, straightened her clothing, and walked up to the helicopter like she knew what she was doing. She passed a wolfspider huntsman who eyed her and ignored her, and then took the last few steps to the helicopter. All of her fine muscles were trembling, and she was filled with a fierce combination of elation at being so close to freedom and terror that she would be denied at the last moment. She pulled the ID card that Sable had given her from her back pocket and, with fingers trembling, waved it at the Arachnos soldier standing in front of the helo. He glanced at it, boredom written large on his course face, then nodded once.

She hesitated, unsure what she should do next, and the moment dragged on unbearably long. She nearly turned and fled, when the pilot stuck his head out of the cockpit, scowled at her, and growled, “Are you getting on, or what? This bird doesn’t carry you by wrapping you in her arms and cradling you, ya know!”

Keely clambered into the belly of the helo, clutched her knees to her chest and tried to believe that she was actually going home.