The_Telepath

There's already a 'Hero Collectable Card Game' produced by the company Sorcerer of the Inland Games. Alfred Bester, apparently, has nineteen hit points.

Bumpy bump. Any more?

No necessary costume type is needed. The only requirement is a Katana scrapper, and whilst it isn't required, females would be easier. With any luck, I'm only going to need one screenshot in effect, and the 'photoshoot' will likely take place in a cleared office mish. As for timing, once I have a few people who are able to help, I'll arrange it based on when people are availiab.e

Right. In my now-ongoing series of comics, I am becoming increasingly demanding and complex to myself for what I want to achieve. So, even though it will most likely only be a single panel, I have an elaborate 'photoshoot' to do.

I need, on estimate, at least six Katana scrappers. Any level, character appearance, etc will do. I would prefer to have a dozen or so, but I can make do with six. There is no level requirement so long as the character is able to keep a katana out for a while.

If you'd be interested in doing the comic - and you'd be credited, of course - please reply in this thread. It'd help me an awful lot... and should turn out to be rather funny, too.

You'll be missed, Wonka, but your decision has been made. Interfering would do more harm than good. I thank you for offering closure.

(Not actually IC, but it should be funny, at least...)

Tall, handsome, charming English gentleman [u]not[u] seeking a relationship. I'm taken, you see. Sorry to dissapoint you, I assure you that did my dear Kit not exist, you would be extremely high on the 'list'... Perfectly happy to be pleasant and hand out chocolate, though, if you wish. After all, how can I refuse, especially when you've got that wonderfully beautiful outfit, with those terribly pretty eyes, not to mention you've done your hair in that absolutely delightful wa-
Word limit reached.

(The following is posted on advertising billboards and other advertising spaces around the city. The rest of the world, too, is similarly informed in their own languages. Version with images can be found here.)

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v386/LGUK/psinet.jpg
Are YOU a PSYCHIC?

1. Have you ever heard someone talking to you, even when no one is around?

2. Do your friends tell you you're 'different'? That you 'know too much' about them?

3. Have you ever responded to a question that no-one else heard?

4. Have you often been asked, 'What are you, a mind reader?'?

5. Do you usually know when someone is lying to you?

6. Have you ever 'seen' an image when someone tells you about what they saw?

7. Are your moods affected by those around you? When someone is upset, do you inexplicably get upset yourself or become upset with them?

8. If someone nearby is being punished, do you feel the pain?

9. Have you thought really hard about someone else doing something, and they suddenly did it?

10. Are any members of your family psychics?


If the answer is 'yes' to any of these questions, the Psychic Network is for you. The Psychic Network is an organisation founded recently by Professor Alfred Bester of Cambridge University. The organisation's aims are threefold:
A) To provide a community for psychics, a place of learning and acceptance without prejudice or fear.
B) To regulate this talent and prevent its use for dishonest or evil purposes, including operations against rogue psychic villains.
C) To learn better control over our abilities - such as no longer hearing thoughts involuntarily. These abilities are then used for the good of all, such as hero work.

Contrary to the expectations of certain elements of the tabloid media, the Psychic Network has no villainous or secret intentions whatsoever. It is also to be noted that the Psychic Network is an international organisation, not a 'super group', and, as such, each member finds their own niche in the world. Such niches include heroing, curing mental illnesses, truth verification in court, commercial and international negotiation work, and searches for missing persons.

Psychics - Psinet is for you. Join today - contact* alfred.bester@psinet.org or the Psychic Network secretary at 5646-774638 (JOIN-PSINET) for details!
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v386/LGUK/psinet.jpg


((*This email addy and the phone number are COMPLETELY fictional. If interested, PM me on the forums or send me an in-game message @LukeGUK. Oh, and I'd have had images, but for some reason they're disabled on the forum.))

All of it, I'm afraid. And you apparently had me, the above Midnight Rose, and Hydronaut rather worried too. Dissapearing like that...

This is Alfred and it's awful. My apologies. (Oh, and the band isn't hard to guess)

1. Are you male or female? Nowhere Man
2. Describe yourself? Paperback Writer
3. Describe how you live? Baby You're A Rich Man
4. Describe your boy/girlfriend? And I Love Her
5. How do you feel about yourself? I Feel Fine
6. Where would you rather be? I'm Happy Just To Dance With You
7. Describe what you want to be? Soldier Of Love
8. Describe how you love? Like Dreamers Do
9. How do some people feel about you? The Fool On The Hill
10. Share a few words of wisdom? Think For Yourself

Welcome back, though I unfortunately admit I didn't know that you'd gone, Z... perhaps your spirit was here in your stead or somesuch.

Maybe best to move to a different server/format/address?

Saturday, 29th July, 11.03am, Steel Canyon.

He hoped it worked. It had to have worked by now, surely. Of course, what ‘it’ actually was was an entirely different matter. But that favour he was owed from so many years ago had to come through. It had to. Alfred didn’t even know who the favour was from, either, except a vague impression. And it had been so long ago that he was beginning to suspect that the entire episode was a dream – but for CIRCE establishing contact with the mysterious anomaly in space and time that he remembered being told to call. He hoped that it worked.

Alfred gently squeezed Kit’s armoured hand. She probably couldn’t even feel it through the metal and mesh, but she enjoyed holding hands, armour or not. And this time it was perhaps a bit more important to do so. The lift hissed to a calm halt at the ground floor of the Fletched Alliance skyscraper and the door opened smoothly. They stepped out and the heavy stomp of her battle armour entirely drowned out the soft clicking of his shoes on the polished stone floor.

Outside, the natural light was not a grey pallor, as one might expect on a cloudy day, nor a bright and blue-skied one. The light cast was red-orange, the sky glowing like embers from a furnace. Plumes of smoke criss-crossed the heavens, the whirling, weaving contrails from duelling jet aircraft forming abstract artistic patterns against the dark background of black smoke. This seemed to be the way of the skies of the world, for the moment.

Still, at least it was light outside, the sun desperately trying to break through and light up the city. Last night, though darkness had fallen, the glow of the sky had lit the city up in a sickly manner, white surfaces either being in shadow or a blood-red hue that made it seem that the city itself bled in the war.

Freedom Corps had managed to get somewhat organised and began rotating heroes at around 2am in the night, and those who had responded immediately to the invasion had finally been relieved. For the duration of this war, it seemed that the cycle would be never-ending. Eight hours on the front lines, eight hours off. Then back to the battle for another eight hours, hoping you lived to enjoy your next eight hours of merciful sleep.

They were both more than an hour late for duty – Alfred suspected that they’d be listed as ‘dead’, ‘missing in action’, or worse. But Kit and Alfred had plainly needed time, and it was suspected that their absence would not have even been noticed in the chaos. At least now – depending on whose point of view one took – they were at peace with the universe, having been fulfilled, or just had another incentive to survive and return to each other’s arms.

The distant, thunderous rumble of explosions, which had eased off for a few minutes, now came back anew. Above, three Council jet fighters tore past at supersonic speed, pursued by a single USAF aircraft. The sonic boom from the four aircraft was nearly ear-splitting, and only once it had passed did Alfred wonder why three fled from one. His question was answered, however, when, seemingly from nowhere, a bright beam of green-white energy lanced out and struck a Council fighter. The aircraft’s wing was sheared off and it began a long, rapid descent, striking the War Wall and vaporising in a few moments. Alfred looked to the originating location of the beam and saw nothing but a slight distortion in a pallor of smoke.

Such curiosities were quickly forgotten, however. The gate to Baumton now loomed, with soldiers pouring through it in both directions. Those who were leaving were generally being carried on stretchers by their comrades, and an ever-steady supply of fresh U.S Army troops were pouring in to replace them. As Alfred and Kit passed, a hero dressed as a mediaeval knight was taken out of the combat zone on a stretcher, thrashing in pain and rage at being restrained from the battle. The armour was twisted and cut through in many places, and full of bits of shrapnel and bullet holes. His chances did not look good.

The pair passed through the gate and descended back into the war.


Saturday, 29th July, 11.13am, Baumton.

Their ears were instantly assailed with sound – gunfire, the roar of tank engines, the rumble of detonations, and the screams of the dying. American self-propelled guns were lined up near the wall, their barrels raised high and sending shells tearing into the already-ruined buildings. Distantly, the black armour of Council soldiers could be seen, charging forward in wave after wave at the defences. Alfred heard the ironic thought that ‘the Battle of Stalingrad had nothing on this’.

The heroic pair, hands still clutched together, approached a military man who looked to be in charge somewhat. Alfred spoke over the noise of battle and the constantly beeping and ringing devices that surrounded the soldier.
“Where are we needed, Lt. Colonel?” he asked, the rank being picked up from a stray thought and used quickly. The military man pointed vaguely and tapped a button on one of his command units.
“We could use some help reinforcing this sector,” he said, the location appearing on Alfred’s reticule. “That’s where we need to make a breakthrough and secure the bridge.”
Alfred nodded and turned away, smiling a little at Kit. They headed off.

Arrival did not take long. Army soldiers were pinned down at one end of a long, concrete road bridge by Council troops. Corpses from both sides littered the bridge’s main span, with even dying men unable to be rescued thanks to the hell of bullets, shrapnel, and acrid smoke. Against her immediate plan, Kit took cover with Alfred behind a concrete bollard, terrified friendly soldiers all around them.

The wounded friendly soldiers on the bridge were quickly levitated by the hero back to the American-held side of the bridge and whisked away on stretchers. It was clear that the attrition from the endless Council troops would defeat Earth’s own forces almost certainly unless something was done. Alfred leaned down and kissed Kit on the cheek. She smiled back at him faintly and then stood, clearly allowing her berserker to take over.

She charged across the bridge, into the hailstorm of bullets, most of them pinging off her armour. She laughed madly even as weapons swung around to target her, and Alfred was not far behind, cloak billowing as he ran forward. He filled his lungs for a battle-cry.
“Onward to victory, Paragon City!” shouted he, and there was a cheer behind him. Bullets thudded into his bullet-proof suit, bruising him repeatedly and cracking a rib, but he ignored the impacts and continued running.

Paragon’s defending soldiers stood from their defensive huddles and began to pour across the bridge, roaring in fury and exultation as they came. Boots trampled across discarded weapons and dead bodies, shots catching many in their headlong attack. But they kept on going, charging like Greek heroes of old, blazing their way to death, glory, or whatever else awaited them in the smoke.

((This is the thread, to avoid the original Requiem thread getting even more confusing, for all stories, pictures, summaries, condition reports, and such on the worldwide War against Requiem. I'll have something for it by tomorrow, with luck.))

*applauds* Great work, Leif! *IC-Alfred hands Leif a bar of chocolate*

Well done! ('Gratz bro' as much of the population would yell...)

[ QUOTE ]
If needed... I have the Hess taskforce unlocked on Ellie...

[/ QUOTE ]

We used the Hess TF for the first 'mission' of the Clone-Commotion plot.

Alfred would be happy to continue the campaign against Requiem in Striga and anywhere else he's needed, including leading another assault on the Nictus creation places. Getting a Striga mish could be hard though.

No, no 'sorry' is necessary - well, unless you were the one who actually hacked it with Islamic fanatical propaganda, but I sort of doubt that. I'm just mildly irritated with the hackers, but it isn't exactly making them look like a righteous cause, anyway...

Well, if we're also recording post-GG events, Alfred dissapeared off into Dark Astoria in search of Kata, who had apparently gone there and not come back.

Kit's Kheldian apparently took over for a while, thus being what Kit's father had warned Alfred about way, way back in May.

((The Statue was also deserted, so it isn't one stealing from the other.))

Global: @LukeGUK
Server: 95% Union, 5% Defiant.
RP Characters: 90% Telepath. All the others share the remaining 10% of my time, including Futurist, Will of Hermes, Monoreceptor, Draconii Chronos, Elaine Sarkin, Dr. Dyngar [CoV Union] and Skyraider [Defiant].
RP Type: Pretty much 100%. If I'm actually playing the game, I'll be RPing it, although in some small measure of the time I will be OOC helping someone else out or just popping on to send a message.
Contact: Forum PM, game-email, game offline message, etc.
Times online: At GG most evenings. Since I have months of holiday, I'll usually be able to go to bed at about 4am at the latest until September. Also at random other times, depending on schedule.
Timezone: Since BST/GMT and such confuse me, I'm on whatever time the United Kingdom is on.

OOC: I'm certainly still interested in continuing - it has been a great plot so far and I see no reason why that should change! Good luck with whatever issue is the problem, in addition, Doc.

Doesn't affect me, since I don't go on the channel. For that reason, I abstain. And fairly obviously, nobody should nominate me, either, since I wouldn't actually be on the channel to do anything. :P

I'm not French, but for a change...

Joyeux Anniversaire!