craban

Now now now....

I have absolutely NO experience in animation and am therefore much more competant at telling anyone how the job is done than you, my good sir. Don't believe me? Roam around the world a bit more - the ignorant are always the best suited to tell you how it's done.

Having said that I can tell you that its not a question of effort or time or anything that you mentioned.

It's a question of money. The Devs are evil, greedy, corporate monkeys who fight tooth and nail for every single penny they can get. If that weren't true they'd hire ten dozen animators and we'd have all the moves to Flashdance available as an emote.

Greed is the reason we see no progress here. No new animations, no new costume options, nothing! The Devs sit around in their offices sipping drinks and reading the forums, not doing their bloody job.

That is why this game is sinking faster than the bloody Titantic - that is why the players are leaving in droves, that is why everything is falling apart.

Greed.

Corporate greed.

And laziness.

That's all.


See? I don't need to know anything about anything to answer the questions, and nothing anyone says will convince me I've got it wrong. I am a model forum poster.



Feel free to add me to your ignore list! Hah!

*wanders around peering into windows*

I swore I heard me name bein' mentioned someplace....

WHO BROUGHT ME GIBBLETS! I demand a feast of horrible things for then we move and leave a trail of tears and sniffles of all the flowers sewn shut and taken for the endless gloom.

Some things were not meant to be, the rest we'll pick apart piece by piece until we have the secrets hidden within, set there by the giant fruit roll-ups of the olden days, filled with color and waxy goodness!

ALL HAIL THE INEBRIATED MUNCHKIN! For it will destroy you utterly if it but spies your malcontentiality!

I'm all tingly!

*leaps out of tub, knocks NewAgeKnight into the acid, and hugs Casti tight before melting into puddle of goo*

*gurgles slightly*

I think the fact that you recognize the problems of your situation will mean you'll do a fine job pulling it off.

While we may not be able to tell you if you got the characters 'spot on' or not, if you post selections of the work somebody may at least be able to give you pointers and/or encouragement to help you along.

Speaking as a bitter evil malcontent I am only too happy to eat someone's ego alive- er... I mean offer constructive criticism....

Ahem.

But perhaps you get the point.

Good luck!

I wondered what that burning sensation was.

TO THE TUBS!

*runs off in search of water while screaming hysterically*

SOMEBODY SAY SOMETHING!

The silence... it has teeth... and it gnaws at me innards like evil misbegotten termites of DOOM!

Hmm? Oh sorry... that was me.... me brains is rotting from inside out... that, or the worms have gas, I don't know.

Sorry, I'll stand downwind.

I SEE YOU!

HA! Evil monster from beyond... I BLOODY SEE YOU!

Ow. Me legs hurt! Ow!

Ah the beta, how much did I enjoy thee? With two rounds of tabasco sauce and a Drano chaser. Yum!

I DEMAND SOMETHING BE DONE!

*looks around*

Am I even still here?

*runs away*

I et them!

Well... that's not really true. I off'd 'em, hid 'em under the carpets in the visiting room, and nibbled on a bit of heel, but aside from that I'm sorta plannin' ta eat 'em rather than actually having done so.

But still... you get the point, I think.

NEXT!

Skiining through the snow
hoping Kerry's right
Oh what fun it is to ride and sling and staying home to night
Oh bloody hells what's that smell how'd I get this gun?
Screaming fate and mild toothpaste I wish I start as one
OOOOhhhhh flinging bells and tossing smells and we all have the bun!
Streaming Kells and waffles sell
My Granny bought the sun!



EVERYBODY SING!

Or I'll pull your gizzards out!

Hmm... I like it, but it would quickly get complicated if I wished to account for some advantage other than simple chance, (like if my opponent were just a little stronger than me or so forth).

Some sort of dueling option would work, (I've not played Warcraft so can only imagine how it works... sending and accepting a challenge to a PVP battle in any zone I suppose, yes?).

I wonder why they haven't done that? I can see the discouragement for CoH, (Heroes as the 'noble protectors' and only engaging in combat in safe arenas or for the public good, (against evil people)), but it's perfect for CoV where villains are fighting villains left and right and they play up the 'dog eat dog' aspect of villainy.

Hmm...

I am told CoV is a MMORPG. It isn't exactly what I consider an RPG, but I understand the thinking that went into making it what it is.

Fine.

Only I'm wondering how most people handle this situation, because I can't think of a single way around it that isn't just silly or needlessly pointless:

Two characters get into a scuffle. Who wins?

Now in any RPG I'm familiar with it is fairly easy to decide such a thing because everyone has stats that decide such things. In CoV we have what, level, powerset, and archtype? The person who plays the longest and knows how to rook the system wins every fight?

I'm not interesting in the serious PvP stuff... I'm trying to Role-Play a situation with another player and our characters come to blows. What do we do?

Is it really fair to say that since I, a hard-working fool cannot sit at home 24/7 and play CoV while my opponent can, I must cowtow to his every demand? I am never to have the upper hand? Or does it mean we must always be equal, (if we go into a PvP zone), always destined to fight to the end?

CoV does lots of things well. It doesn't let us RP very well though, especially villains. Yes, we wish to prevent "ganking" and "griefing", but there are plenty of times when, (say in a small RP group), people could tollerate such behavior, (I mean, we are playing villains here... why can we be violent to some villains, (NPCs), and not others, (PCs)? It doesn't make sense from an RP perspective).

How do you guys deal with it? Do you just expect your fellow players to be mature and react when slapped or are you constantly playing the "I hit you / No you missed" game with other people who's egos can't handle being less than the best?

Has anybody made the suggestion to the Devs of putting some sort of flag on the characters so that they could be open PvP targets anywhere in the Rogue Isles? You could choose to be targeted by people your level, people any level, people only a couple levels more or less than you, or not targeted by anyone... and the only people that could target you would have to have their flag on as well, for retaliation. Put a timer on it to prevent "peek-a-boo" tactics...

Well?

SOMEBODY EAT A DAMNED MUFFIN!

I'm not sure if you can taste the poison or not.

Quick! Quick! Get this place cleaned up! There's a chance we might get the organ harvester thingie moving again!

Somebody start digging holes in the garden!

*runs out to check on the arsenical muffins*

(I presume it is kosher to post fiction in this place for public ridicule? Yes? Good. I find meself in need of humbling, so hit me please...)

The darkness pulsed invisibly, spilling some of the congealed evil into a small crack in the fabric of the world.


It was raining. It had been raining for hours, non-stop, pounding cold rain. Wraithshadow sighed and pulled his soaking coat tighter against his skin as he tried to ignore the freezing water in his shoes. He’d been watching the Trolls for nearly an hour now as they lounged around in relative dry conditions under an overpass while he shivered on a rooftop. Sonny McGee swore that the shipment would be delivered to that spot this afternoon, and though he didn’t really think Sonny would be dumb enough to try and warn the Trolls he had to admit it was a possibility.

Wraithshadow had been a hero in Skyway City for a couple months now and knew the place fairly well. The Trolls certainly knew him. Or at least, they knew him well enough to call him “Constanople” which was, as best he could figure, some corrupted reference to the Constantine movie that came out not too long ago. He had to admit there was an unfortunate resemblance between Keanu’s character and his own dress and manners, but he was here first and Hollywood could take a flying leap for all he cared.

“Finally,” Wraithshadow muttered as he spotted the Trolls’ delivery thug walking slowly up the street, oblivious to the pouring rain. He waited until they were all together and the package in plain sight before he leapt off the rooftop, muttering the words to a spell as he fell.


“You got da stuff?” one green-skinned Troll demanded as the Hellion delivery man held out a brick-sized object in a plastic bag with a sigh.

“Money?” the Hellion asked. The lead Troll motioned to one of his crew and a large wad of bills were produced. As the other Troll walked forward to hand them over he was knocked backwards by a solid beam of a thick black smoke-like substance.

“It a trap!” the Troll snarled furiously as he looked from the startled Hellion to the rapidly approaching man in very wet black clothes. “Constanople! I smash you good! No sequel for you!” But the Troll couldn’t move as suddenly enormous shadowy tentacles rose from the ground and held him and the others in place.

Wraithshadow shouted something in a language none of them could understand and the Hellion fell to a barrage of smoke-like energy. “Ok tough guy,” Wraithshadow growled as he rushed in closer to the Troll leader, “let’s see what ya got,” and punched him as hard as he could in the face.


A few minutes later a bloody and battered Wraithshadow was dabbing at his nose with a sodden handkerchief while he waited for a cleanup crew. The Troll leader was slumped over an overturned trash bin, dead to the world. “Knuckles are gonna hurt in the morning,” he muttered to himself as he examined his bloody hands. That’s when he heard the scream.

It was a sound of absolute and utter agony and it was nearby. Wraithshadow dashed like a madman towards the source, no thought in his head except a desire to help. He leapt over a large dumpster and then a fence to find something more horrible than he ever hoped to see.

Blood was everywhere. The pouring rain was rapidly washing it away, but the entire back alley seemed painted in blood. There was a body of a person spread out in the middle of the area, most of the flesh had been removed, torn off, it seemed, and scattered all around the area. It wasn’t just murder, it was slaughter… it could only have happened a few seconds ago, and so suddenly the victim had only one chance to cry out before death claimed him.

Wraithshadow backed away, after all, there was nothing he could do now, and he needed to flag down the cleanup crew. Something caught his attention before he left though, a smell… a whiff of something… something vaguely familiar, and alien to the world. Unable to place it Wraithshadow shook his head and left the scene.

A squad car was waiting for him, an officer and a drone. The officer to supervise and the drone to teleport the offenders to a holding cell for booking. “You’re gonna need a forensics squad too,” Wraithshadow said with a gesture back towards the alley.


The darkness pulsed, tortured life and thought congealing within it. More. It must have more.


Two weeks later Wraithshadow fell into a chair in his office / apartment and poured himself a drink while his guest looked around with an air of faint disgust. Wraithshadow ignored it and silently offered his guest a drink.

“No thanks,” the muscular hero said politely.

“Ok then Quasar, spill it. What do you want? You agreed to meet me here too quickly,” Wraithshadow said as he swallowed his drink.

“Is it wrong to be concerned for a former comrade?” Quasar asked with sincerity. Wraithshadow gave him a look that spoke volumes.

“Cut the crap please, I’m tired. If you want something from me, ask, if not, then get the Hell out please. I am not in the mood for your friendly-hero-brotherhood stuff, ok?”

“Have it your way then,” Quasar sighed. “I heard a rumor you were investigating some murders in Skyway.”

“Oh yes? You doing something other than following the Freedom Phalanx around like a lost puppy dog then? Doing some actual nity-grity street-work for a change?” he said with a sarcastic smile.

“Actually Manticore mentioned it,” Quazar looked slightly embarrassed to admit. “He also mentioned that you might need help.”

“Piss off,” Wraithshadow snapped instantly. “I work alone, we’ve had this discussion before, remember? The last thing I need is you and your pals stomping around here as if it were some great big Easter Egg hunt, blowing anything that twitches sky-high or setting it alight.”

“Norath said she was sorry about that,” Quasar sighed as he relayed apologies for the umpteenth time.

“Whatever, it was the last straw, that’s all I’m saying. So thank mighty Manticore for his concern for me but I’ve got this case and I’ll follow it through.” When Quasar didn’t immediately leave Wraithshadow gave him a surprised and unhappy look.

“He insisted it was too much for you,” Quasar smiled without enthusiasm. Wraithshadow stood up angrily but Quasar cut him off saying, “there’s been another body, this time in Talos Island. Just like the others.” Wraithshadow closed his mouth and was lost in thought for a moment. Then he suddenly sprinted for the door.

“Tell Norath I want her to meet me at the tram!” he shouted as he dashed down the hall.

Quasar smiled, closed the door as he left Wraithshadow’s apartment, and activated his com-link. “Norath? He’s on his way, meet him at the tram please.”

“Righto!” chirped a happy feminine voice in reply.


Wraithshadow was not in a good mood when he finally got off the tram at the Talos Island station. He dashed out of the disembarking area and leapt over the railing onto the ground below. “Which way?” he snarled to no one at all.

“It’s a good hike,” a cheerful voice above him answered, “too bad you can’t fly or nuthin’! Follow me!” A woman with yellow skin and bright shaggy red hair, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt flew over Wraithshadow’s head to the north west. She stopped some distance from him and turned around to make sure he was following. Wraithshadow began following the floating firebomb, but was careful where he tread. Talos Island was a dangerous place and though most crooks knew to avoid Norath they might not think twice trying to take him out.

“Did Q tell you what happened?” Norath asked as she remembered her manners and flew just in front of Wraithshadow, (but backwards, so she could talk to him).

“Enough. How much farther?”

“Over by the Ferry. Why do you give him such a hard time David? You know he just wants to be friends.”

“Nor, don’t ever call me that, and I don’t like amateurs.”

“I’m an amateur!” she said in mock amazement.

“Exactly.”

“But you like me!”

“I don’t know what I could’ve said to give you that impression,” Wraithshadow said with a hint of a smile.

“Tsk! Everybody likes me,” Norath said with a pout. “So. You gonna tell me what’s going on here or what?”

“Why don’t you ask your leader?”

“Wraith!” Norath snapped angrily, “knock it off. Just tell me. I want to help.”

Wraithshadow frowned as he ran, wondering what he should say. “Ok Nor, you want to know, I’ll tell you, but so help me, if you start tossing firebombs around again-,” he warned with all the seriousness he could mange under the circumstances.

Norath held up her hands in surrender and exclaimed, “I said I was sorry! Come on, can’t a girl make a single mistake and outlive it? Give me a break already!” They moved on in silence for a moment before she added, “anyway, how was I to know those boxes would all explode?”

“Because they had ‘Danger! Explosive!’ stenciled all over them?!” Wraithshadow snapped, but he saw her smiling at him and realized she was just kidding so smiled just a little back at her. They had reached the crime scene. A small crowd of onlookers tried to see past the small army of police and assorted heroes roaming around. “What a circus,” Wraithshadow muttered as he shook his head.

“Yeah, but I got a backstage pass, come on,” Norath flew over the crowd and nodded to a couple of policemen as she flew past. Wraithshadow shoved his way through the crowd and past the police who didn’t move to stop him. Norath was hovering over a large lump covered now with bloodstained sheets. There was blood everywhere, as if the dock had been washed in it.

“Yep. It’s getting worse.”

Wraithshadow didn’t spend long at the crime scene. He talked to a couple of the witnesses, said a few words to the police, then wandered off. Norath followed and once they were some distance from the crowd said, “so tell me already or I’ll set your hair on fire.”

“Promise me you’re not going to talk to the press,” Wraithshadow responded casting an eye at the gathered reporters.

“I am going to talk to them actually,” Norath said huffily, “they enjoy asking me questions, but I promise not to tell them anything you don’t want them to know. I’ve got lots of practice playing dumb.”

“All right, fair enough. What we’ve got is a slice of extra-dimensional evil roaming around Paragon City devouring souls to make itself more powerful. I don’t know how it got out of Skyway, but it did, and that means it might already be too powerful for me to contain.”

“So you find it and I’ll burn it to cinders, no problem.”

“It’s not that easy Nor.”

“Nope…” Norath sighed, “didn’t think it would be.”

“This is pure evil.”

“Time Bandits!” Norath interjected happily. Wraithshadow’s stare sent shivers down her spine, “ok, sorry, was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“It can’t be destroyed here. The best even the most powerful mystic could manage is to shunt it back into the place it came from. No amount of firepower is going to do anything but annoy it.”

“So let’s do that then, fine, I’ll annoy it until you can shut it up or whatever, no problem. I kick demon butt for breakfast, I can handle some measly slice of evil thing.”

Wraithshadow put his face in his hands and sighed. “Norath, could you stop pretending you are the character you play on TV and think like the hero you used to be?”

“I’m serious Wraith, what’s the worst it could do to me?”

“Howsabout devour your soul?”

“Eh,” Norath was unconcerned, “the Circle of Thorns threaten that all the time. They don’t scare me much.”

Wraithshadow let out a long breath and said, “just pretend I know what I’m talking about here, ok? If you had the whole Freedom Phalanx with you I’d still tell ya that it’s out of your league. Now go be a good girl and have a chat with your press, I’ve got work to do.” Norath watched him go with surprise.

“Arrogant idiot,” she said with a smile and flew off to talk to the reporters who had been trying to catch her attention for several minutes.

sniff... all I wanted for Christmas was two front teeth... but they were rotten so we had to throw them out.

BRING IT ON FROSTY! I GOT HOSTILITIES TO VENT!

*goes present hunting*

Somebody owes me cookies! I DEMAND SOMETHING BE DONE ABOUT THIS!

Santa has not fulfiled his bargain! I WANT THAT BLASTED PONY!

*runs thru bitting kneecaps at random*

MMMMMEEEEEEEEMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!

Medic!

Singing softly whithout a tune I strum merrily merrily into the room and hop on the couch without much of a fuss to spring unto everyone a terrible puss that I found in the basement all covered with fuzz and hope that you'll take it without getting a buzz.

*dashes back into his cell and slams the door shut*

What on earth is going on here?

YIPE!

*slams cell door shut and locks it from inside*

People suck.

I have reached this conclusion after nearly 36 hours in total isolation while being pelted with rats. Yes. That is what happened.

I mean, seriously, you bite one person and suddenly you're a "psycopath" and "dangerous" and "mal-adjusted" or something. Two weeks isolation and serious sedation, which gets old in a hurry, let me tell you. It's a freakin' ear for cryin' out loud - cartilege, they can sew it right back on and there won't even be a scar! What is the big fuss for?

People suck. They just overreact, hit you with clubs and then it's right back into 18th century medicine-world where they cure you by tearing your skin off with a fire hose.

Disgusting waste of taxpayer money, that's what I call it.

If Notorious Henry hadn't run amok again I'd still be in there... but he's freakin' crazy so I get me own cozy jacket and cell again. And since the minders still don't know I figured out their password I can type until my jaw gets sore, (I'm unsing a couple of bendy straws through a hole in the glass, you see? No hands.. well I got hands, but they're kinda immobile in this stupid jacket).

Oh well.

People suck.

Next time I'm gonna bite off his nose - that'll show 'im. And I'll swallow it too.

HA!