jchinds

Around noon, Todd Galahad walked past the student union to his next class, Public Speaking. The sky in Hanover was a shade of blue that was about the same as Marie's, and the trees had not completely turned their usual fall colors. He skimmed over a few announcements and flyers at a public bulletin board, committing a few to memory, especially the ones listing missing or stolen items. I might not be a full-time hero in Paragon anymore, Todd thought, but I can do a few things here as an amateur sleuth. Thankfully there shouldn't be any swordplay involved.

He was almost at the door to the lecture hall when he heard what sounded like a horse on cobblestones walking behind him.

"Hey, Galahad! Wait up!" Elly shouted out as she scurried up to meet him. "I want to settle something with you."

"Whoa, there, Elly," Todd said as he spun to meet her, his gray backpack whipping around to almost unbalance him. "There's nothing to settle. And you shouldn't wear those shoes. They're really clunky and make a lot of noise."

"Fine advice from someone who doesn't shop at Hollister or A&F," Elly said. "There is something to settle, though... ooh. Never mind. If you're going to yell at me about my shoes, then I won't even bother."

Todd turned back around. "Good. Now please stop pestering me," he said before he opened the door to the lecture hall. He made sure the door closed before Elly could reach it to add further frustration. "Wake up in my bed without asking again, and you'll be in a serious world of trouble," he grumbled to himself.

At the mid-point of class, Todd felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Elly sitting next to him and a note being slid over to him.

I'M SORRY, it read.

Todd scribbled something back.

YOU SHOULD BE. I COULD HAVE BEEN SOMEONE MUCH WORSE, AND YOU COULD BE JUST ANOTHER STATISTIC. DON'T DRINK SO MUCH NEXT TIME.

Elly read it and scowled. "Who are you, Statesman?" she hissed at him.

Todd held his finger in the air, silently asking for a few moments of explanation. He scribbled down something else, watching the lecturer and looking down again as if writing actual class-related notes.

STATESMAN WOULDN'T EVEN ALLOW YOU A CHANCE TO APOLOGIZE. HE'D JUST THROW YOU IN THE RIVER AND CALL YOU A RIKTI OR SOMETHING. HE'S VERY ARROGANT WHEN HE TALKS TO US NON-HERO TYPES.

Elly looked at him like he was dodging the question, so Todd scribbled something else down.

SERIOUSLY. HE'S A TOOL. I HAD A SUMMER JOB AS AN ARCHIVIST FOR FREEDOM CORPS AND HE WAS ALWAYS REALLY NASTY TO PEOPLE WHO WEREN'T CAPES.

"Really?" she whispered. Todd wrote down some more.

I WOULD HAVE HAD AN INVITATION TO RETURN NEXT SUMMER IF I HADN'T WORN A TOWEL AROUND MY NECK AND CALLED MYSELF "ARABBICUS, DARK ROASTED LORD OF GETTING COFFEE" ON HIS LAST TOUR THROUGH THE ARCHIVES.

Elly smiled, but just a little, trying to stifle a laugh. She was still trying to be mad while imagining her classmate mocking one of Earth's most powerful heroes. Todd wrote some more.

I'M SORRY, TOO. I HAVE A TENDENCY TO BE BLUNT TO THE POINT OF MAKING PEOPLE MAD. I JUST THINK YOU SHOULD BE REALLY CAREFUL WHEN DRINKING AT PARTIES. IT'S SAFER THAT WAY, ESPECIALLY WHEN STONEY IS ANYWHERE NEAR YOU. HE CHASES EVERYTHING HE THINKS MIGHT BE FEMALE.

Elly grinned.

SOMETIMES HE'S WRONG, AND THAT'S HILARIOUS, Todd wrote.

The lecturer left the hall, and the students packed their bags to leave the classroom.

"Seriously," Todd said. "The next time you see Stoney, ask him about his date with someone named Kris."

Elly laughed a bit this time. "Well, Galahad, you're a jerk, but at least you're nice and well-meaning one. See you around," she said with the tone used to imply that she'd be hanging around his room more often.

Too bad that Todd wasn't always able to pick up verbal cues from women. He had no idea what would happen as time passed. The thought didn't pass his mind until in the middle of his Calculus class.

"Oh. Oh, no," he muttered to himself.

Multi-Year storyline?

Count me in on that.

This is an update to the SG information.

Supergroup Name: Young Phalanx

Website(if any): http://phalanx.dragon-fire.net

Leader or Recruiting Officers: Back Yard Boom, P-Tron, Necril, Sublimina

Prefered Method of Contact: Website or in game or on our Globalchat "YoungPhalanx"

Guild Description: This is an RPing supergroup. We will try to remain IC when possible.

The Young Phalanx, founded by Stateslad and P-Tron, are the next generation of the Freedom Phalanx. Sure, while there are plenty of people out there who are, in fact, Freedom Phalanx reserve members, Paragon City responds best to its icons. One day, those heroes will find themselves unable to serve as such icons any longer, and the Young Phalanx will fill their shoes.

Mostly, our heroes are teen-versions of NPCs. Think the Teen Titans to an extent, except for the CoH universe. Kid Flash, Aqualad, Superboy, etc, as well as other members that don't have any connection to other heroes at all. Instead of DC heroes, though, we have CoH ones. Stateslad to Statesman, P-Tron to Positron, etc. As stated before, we DO allow teenage characters that are NOT based on NPC heroes into the group.

As long as you roleplay and have a teenage character, odds are, you're easily in.

Other than the theme, there are no real rules to the SG. Level all you want, do missions, roleplay, play however often you like. The SG isn't designed for mains but rather for alts, to have a little fun when you have time [though making it your main is not discouraged =)].

We've added clarified rules for character creation to our forums, so now you can see what you'll need in order to make a good fit.

You can usually find one of us at Pocket D on Tuesday nights (normally Back Yard Boom) or you can just go to the website, contact us that way, and we can set up a meeting elsewhere.

[ QUOTE ]
((Todd has more willpower than ten Green Lanterns!))

[/ QUOTE ]

Willpower backed up with a healthy respect of his girlfriend, fear of his SG leader, and respect for the rest of his SG.

Yeah, I'll just chalk it up to willpower.

"Hey! Wake up, Todd!"

From under a carpet of empty beer can and bottles, Todd Galahad, known to Paragon City residents as The Cobalt Claymore, sat up in order to go to his morning classes at Dartmouth.

"What the hell is this, Stoney?" Todd said to his roomate Braden "Stoney" Stonegate. "What happened-- geez!" he shouted as he found out someone was next to him, a girl he knew from his Public Speaking course. Todd scooted out of the bed quickly, almost leaping out. The young lady was still sleeping, her breath still strong with a mix of beer, tequila and some flavored vodka.

Stoney looked over at the girl, then at Todd. "Dude! Nice! It's what, six weeks since you got here, and you've already landed a girl on the side? Man, you guys must have been quiet because I never heard either of you come in while we were partying in the room!"

"Stoney," Todd said, "help me get this girl woken up and out of the room."

"Heh! Already done with her, huh?"

"'Done with her' nothing! We didn't do anything in the first place!" Todd shouted.

"What?" Stoney said. "Excuse me? T-Dog, come on! It's okay to say you scored yourself a hottie! What happens in Hanover stays in Hanover!"

"T.... Dog? What did you just call me?"

"Uh, the guys have been calling you that since you got here. Man, you need to pay attention to what's going on. The guys on the lacrosse team call us the Dirty Morning Duo bacause 'Stoney and T-Dog' sounds like a morning radio DJ crew!" Stoney said. It's because we're usually the first two actually awake in the morning! You go off to class and I make sure the rest of the gets up to make their second class of the day." Stoney smiled what he thought was a too-cool-for-words smile, but it looked more like an arrogant smirk. "If it wasn't for you and me, the team wouldn't be students for long."

"I was never let in on this. And what the heck is Elly doing in my bed? I didn't even leave the room last night!" Todd was busy trying to find his jeans and a clean shirt that didn't smell of cheap beer and cheaper perfume. "Marie would kill me if she saw this. I gotta get this place cleaned up!" Todd threw on his clothes and grabbed a garbage bag, collecting empty cans and bottles as he went around the room trying to straighten his pictures of his girlfriend, friends and family.

Stoney sat on his bed and watched with amusement as Todd tried to clean the place up. His face then turned quizzical. "Okay, Todd, answer me this: if you never left last night, why didn't I see you?"

"Let's see," Todd said, "I got done with classes at 2, studied at the library until 5, worked out until 7, ate dinner at the Chinese place down the street, came home and was asleep by 9."

"9? As in PM, right? Dude. You were asleep at NINE AT NIGHT? IN COLLEGE?"

Todd glared at Stoney. "I was tired. I was done with everything else, so I went to bed and WILL YOU HELP ME GET THIS FREAKIN' DRUNKASS PRELAW STUDENT OUT OF MY BED?"

"Dude. NOBODY goes to bed at 9 at night in college! Even the foreign students don't do that!"

"Stoney, help me get this girl out of this room and over to her dorm or I will see to it that you take a header through our dorm window." Todd's eyes locked on Stoney's. "I came here to learn, not to party, and if I EVER find this room so screwed up again, I'm going to hold you responsible." He leaned over and whispered something in Stoney's ear. "And that's only the first minute of what will happen when I hold you responsible."

The color in Stoney's face drained. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes I am. Because I will bring all of my friends here. I will bring my girlfriend here. So you know, she uses electricity like most of us breathe. I'll also bring her mother, who's basically a living nuclear reactor. I can also bring a giant blue cyborg who's an ex-Chicago cop. And you know how cops are when they find uncooperative students, right? I'll tell them how you decided to impede my scholarly progress. They won't be happy. Do you want to make my hero friends unhappy?"

"Uhm..." Stoney began.

"Well, do you?"

Stoney looked down. "No."

"Then don't throw parties in the room, and don't allow anyone to crash in my bed, especially when I'm already in it."

"Why do you have to be such a nerd about things, T-Dog?"

"Stop calling me that."

"No, man, seriously. College is as much about getting hammered on a nightly basis as it is showing up for class," Stoney said, trying to defend his position in the room.

"Good for you, Stoney. Somebody's got to be at the bottom of the class, might as well be you."

Shortly thereafter Elly woke up. "Aagh, my head," she muttered. "Where the hell am I?"

Tood looked over at her. "In my room, and I'd like to know what the hell you were doing getting in my bed. I was already asleep when you climbed in, so no, we didn't do anything."

"Oh. OH. Omigod. You're that guy from my Public Speaking class. Omigod. The one with the superhero girlfriend. OmigodI'msosorry!"

"Right. And you've made my life more difficult if this gets out. AND you've made me late for class. AND you really need to get the hell out of my room and never come back!" Todd opened the door and gestured politely for her to exit. "Now, if you please."

Elly walked out, trying to meet his gaze, but being stared down. "You're a jerk, Galahad."

"Yes, but I'm a jerk who's loyal to his girlfriend," Todd said as she strode down the hall. He handed the now-full garbage bag to his roommate. "Stoney, throw this out. I have to get ready to go to my next class." With that, he put his books in his backpack and walked out the door.

"I'm not calling you T-Dog anymore! You don't deserve a nickname!" Stoney shouted out their first floor window as Todd walked past it. Todd flipped him off and kept going towards class.

He dropped a nickname he hated, put a healthy dose of fear into his roommate, and defended himself against any accusations of impropriety that could spell the end of his preferred relationship. All in all, the morning was starting out better than he hoped.

The air was a bit colder than last week, signaling summer's rapid descent into autumn. The leaves were still green and not quite ready to turn, and songbirds still flew around the city competing with the pigeons and squirrels for feeding spots. One of the commuter ferries to the other side of the bay chugged by slowly, leaving a ripple water behind it.

Back Yard Boom really wished he was anywhere but school right now. The third week of his senior year was about to start at St. Ignatius Prep and he was already wishing he was back working at Lou's Garage.

"Mister Pachowski, please pay attention! This subject is relevant to your extra-curricular activities," Father Ray said in a louder than normal voice. "Heroic Studies classes are not something you can blow off simply because you have a Hero License.

"Huh?" the young man said as he snapped back to reality. The other young men in his class laughed.

Tommy shifted a bit. "Sorry, Father, I was just lookin' fer signs of trouble."

"I don't think the Paragon-Quahog commuter line is under attack today, Tommy, so you'll have to stay here."

"Yeah, so you can protect us from your friends in the Freakshow!" one of the boys called out.

"What was that, Meyer?" Tommy said, balling his blue metal hands into fists. He kept them right on the desk, opening and closing them to try to relieve some stress. The fiber-optic tattoos he had placed into the similarly-shaded began flickering to life, and Tommy had to concentrate to shut them off.

"I said, you have more in common with the Freakshow than you do with us," Meyer said through a smirk. "They're big metallic sociopaths, and you... well, two out of three is close enough isn't it, little guy?"

"I hear yer mom likes things that are big an' metallic, Meyer," Tommy shot back.

The classroom erupted with catcalls and cries of "Oh SNAP!"

Meyer stood up, all six feet, 130 pounds of him. "You take that back, Pachowski!" he yelled, shaking a skinny arm at him as he stomped towards the young hero.

"Make me, ya sissy," Tommy said as he turned his chair around to face his would-be opponent. "Yer gray ta me," he said, using a hero insult for someone non-threatening, "so don't start nothin' ya can't finish!"

Father Ray stepped in. "That's enough, both of you! Mister Meyer, see me after class. Mister Pachowski, go sit outside my office. I'll deal with you after that."

Tommy grabbed his bookbag and jacket and walked to Father Ray's office. The bell rang to send everyone to lunch, and ten minutes later, Father Ray appeared at the office door.

"Wait here, Tommy. I'll be back when I finish lunch."

Tommy sat there, reading the news through his dataglasses. Paragon City's wireless network even reached out to Omega Point, something that he was happy about. He used a subdermal antenna coiled behind his left ear to pick up police band radio signals in case of an emergency. After a half-hour had passed, Father Ray walked back to the office. Tommy followed him through the doorway, shutting the door behind him.

"Tommy, that was very rude of you. What were you thinking?" Father Ray asked.

"You don't wanna know, Father," Tommy replied.

"Then can you tell me why you picked a reference to his mother in order to insult him?"

"It was effective in makin' him feel bad, an' that's what I wanted." Tommy said.

"So you're not going to apologize?"

"He compared me ta a buncha criminals, an' not only that, he compared me ta criminals who I regularly fight. I also took it as an insult the he compared me ta guys who don't even maintain their cybernetics very well. So, yeah, I was ticked."

"And that gave you the right to insult him?"

"No, Father," Tommy said. "I don't like bein' called a criminal by someone who I protect day in an' day out, an' instead'a stayin' calm, I decided ta make him even angrier."

"Will you apologize to him, Tommy?" Father Ray asked.

"No. I won't take those words or sentiments back. I put my neck on the line every day so he can sit there an' do nothin' but badmouth me an' my fellow heroes. I want him ta apologize ta me. An' even then, I won't apolgize ta him. He doesn't deserve it," Tommy said, jabbing his finger back towards the classroom.

"Fine, then, Tommy. You just worked your way into a week's suspension."

"Huh?"

"If you won't ask him to forgive you but demand forgiveness in return, then I haven't got any choice but to suspend you for a week. That will give you plenty of time to change your attitude towards Mister Meyer."

"Don't bet on it," Tommy grumbled.

"What's that?" Father Ray asked.

"I said don't bet on it, Father."

"Excuse me? Tommy, this isn't like you."

"I'm sick of lettin' Meyer run his mouth off. Maybe he oughta try patrollin' Brickstown an' repeatin' what he said about me ta the Freaks. They may leave enough ta bury him ina small paper bag."

"That's it, Tommy. Just go home. Your suspension will run through next Friday. When you come back, I also want you to tell me what happened over the summer that changed your outlook. You were the one who never lost his coolheadedness or his much more gentle sense of humor."

"Yes, Father. Can I go now?"

"Yes."

Tommy grabbed his things and headed towards the student lot where his car was parked. He found Meyer and a few of Meyer's friends from class sitting on the hood of his car or leaning up against the doors.

"I already got a suspension, guys, so if yer tryin' ta get me in trouble, it ain't gonna happen," Tommy said, his arms lighting up with their varied patterns. "Right now, I'm pretty much free ta do what I want."

Meyer and his friends backed away from the car.

"That's what I thought, gray," Tommy growled. "I keep ya from gettin' shook down by everything from Hellions an' Skulls ta the freakin' Rikti, an' all ya do is try an' slam me."

Meyer's friends tried circling Tommy as Meyer spoke again. "I just don't like you Pachowski. I have more money, better friends, and I'm normal. You're just a step away from being a threat to decent people everywhere."

"Ya sound jealous, Meyer. All the money you got is yer daddy's. As fer these guys, they can't hold a candle ta the Young Phalanx. An' normal? NORMAL? You oughta go look in the mirror, ya bony, gap-toothed loser," Tommy said. Now get out of my way before I make ya do that."

The other young men didn't leave.

"Please, guys, don't make me go through ya," Tommy said. "Ya won't like it."

"Make us leave, Pachowski," one of Meyer's friends said.

Tommy sighed and fired up the cryoprojectors, coating their section of the student lot with ice. He then dropped to the ground and used a foot sweep to send the other boys to the ground and sliding away from him. Tommy got back up and walked to his car.

"Next time, Meyer, I'm gonna forget that you're someone I'm supposed ta protect. Don't cross me again, gray."

Tommy walked around the car looking for dents and scratches, got in, and drove off with a heavy bass line coming out of the speakers.

"Can't believe I gotta fight crime to save guys like him," Tommy groused to himself.

[ QUOTE ]
Just wanted to know if there's any angelic-being-based tankers out there that want to show me some pics. I'm planning one, and wanted to see what ideas are out there. Anyone use the cartoon Angel Wars as a template?

[/ QUOTE ]

I know that a friend of mine has been wanting wings and long dresses in order to make a Heavy Arms character from .hack.

I'll join in, too, Tom. I've got two Inv tankers that I can use with or without invincibility (I'm crazy like that), a decent scrapper and a bunch of lowbies as well if you need low-level blasters, scrappers or controllers.

For invulnerability tanks, the only takenr primary I use, we're using our secondaries a lot more than primaries, and I haven't seen invulns use their primaries for much more than keeping foes stuck on them like glue, and that's only with one power. The rest are pretty much keeping us alive long enough for the rest of the team to get there and join in the fight. Enemies come for the secondaries, but stay for the primaries with invuln tanks. Draw them in with secondaries, hold them with primaries. An invuln has always seemed pretty limited with with his primary aggro-hold, Invincibility. It's why Punch-voke is still here, to keep enemies busy.

I haven't really changed my damage-sponge tanking strategies much, since I can still keep targets off of my teammates just by standing between targets and teammates. HOWEVER, this does not mean I haven't changed my overall tanker strategies. I have slotted for status effects in addition to accuracy and damage in my attacks (knockdown for my Inv/SS and Disorient for my Inv/EM) and have noticed that I'm much better at setting up my enemies for my teammates' attacks to finish them off.

You might be sitting there thinking "A controller can do that even better." A controller can't lock everyone down at once, and they can't be in the front line dealing with enemies who have broken his holds without risking losing other lockdowns. The tanker is there to do on-the-spot crisis assessment and control/redirection of enemy movement. Whirling Hands, Foot Stomp, Hand Clap, and other similar powers are very good at keeping enemies from looking at your more fragile teammates, as well as keeping their heads ringing long enough to finish them off.

The strategy has changed from us being the unbreakable rally point of the team to being the tip of the spear. We break through our enemies, sure, but the real effect comes from the team. I was getting assistance from my defenders with buffs and heals before I5 and ED, and I still will when it comes up. In return, I "fight fires" by making sure that enemies are distracted from the rest of the team. It takes more effort, I'll tell you that much.

Come on, people, get to writing!

I can't rule the roost this month with my story unless there's something to rule! Get cracking! Chop-chop!

Hephaestus 1 crouched as well as he could behind the gleaming machinery of the Crey laboratory's research generator. He'd been asked to investigate a tip that Crey was using less-than-ethical means to augment their battlesuit users. The giant cyborg had been sent to investigate since he was one of the few who could withstand the damage that the various Crisis Units and Juggernauts could dish out. His metal frame also helped blend him in with the sterile steel walls in case someone tried to detect him with a magnetic anomaly sensor.

He couldn't get this bass line out of his head, though. It was something he could only describe as "pizzicato profundo," plucked out on a bull fiddle. He took a minute to get all his thoughts together and looked at his watch. The lights went out like the SWAT team said they would. He had to move quickly before the emergency generators kicked in.

"Okay, three, two, one, let's jam..." Heph muttered as he broke into a sprint towards a pair of Crey rent-a-cops.

The Crey guards saw a giant green and black metal beast charge towards them. The first guard brought up his submachinegun and shouted "Hey! You're not authorized to--" before Heph grabbed his head and drove him into the wall with a vicious crunching noise. The second guard tried to call for backup but found himself embedded in the ceiling as Heph's huge armored fist connected with the guard's solar plexus. Had it not been for the body armor, the guard's ribs would be only so many splinters. The huge cyborg opened up the doors with his wireless keycode-breaker and strode into the room.

Heph found himself face to face with some very angry Juggernauts. If he could still smile, he would have as he supercharged his hydraulic and pneumatic systems. The Juggernauts charged forward as a squad of Crisis Units opened up with their chain guns. Heph leapt into the air, flying over the Juggernauts and into the middle of the Crisis Units, their high-velocity ammunition pinging uselessly off of his armored body. His giant metal hands slammed together as concussion projectors fired off, sending the armored soldiers to the floor dazed. As they climbed to their feet, Hephaestus 1 was tearing into the Juggernauts, tearing off armored chestplates, crushing their power units, and shaking the pilots inside the metal shells into unconsciousness. One of the Crisis Units shook off his dazed state and ran full speed into another lab in the research building. Heph finished off the other Crisis Units and gave chase to the straggler.

As the cyborg tore down the mechanical door, he noticed that the Crisis Unit brought friends. A dozen of Crey's "Paragon Protectors." Hephaestus 1 slid the chain with his badge on it around his neck, mentally grinning.

"You're all under arrest."

The Paragon Protectors charged wordlessly, claws and spines popping from their bodies.

"Oh, by all means, resist arrest. It's your right, isn't it?" Hephaestus 1 asked as he slammed his fist into a Paragon Protector's brasslike faceplate. It shrieked an ear-splitting high note as metal shredded metal.

That was when the security monitors went out again.


Tank -- Hephaestus 1

"Hey, Jack, this is Back Yard Boom, the kid who's gonna replace Back Alley Brawler once he hangs up the cyberarms. I gotta question fer Vandal. As ya might remember, my group the Young Phalanx stomped ya pretty good last night on Bastion's behalf. Nice guy fer a robot, ain't he? Anyways, I gotta know this. We went ta the same frickin' "secret entrance" three times ta invade yer base. Each time, it had a different layout. I gotta know what kinda tech yer usin' ta make yer lair unique each time I bust my way through it. Oh, an' the kids from Galaxy City Elementary School really loved the exhibit I made outta Warcry parts ta show 'em how electronic circuits work. The internal LEDs on yer primary an' secondary control boards do great fer gettin' peoples' attention.

An' who's this Vahzilok guy again, Jack? I never bothered fightin' him. I mean, ya'd think if I got ta Security Level 30 I'd have fought him a few times. Eh, back ta class, I guess. GO BLACKROBES! ST. IGNATIUS COLLEGE PREP RULES!"

*Hephaestus 1 links up to the phone via his primary T-1 line*

"Hey, got a question for the Clockwork King. As one brain in a jar to another, so to speak, do you ever have a feeling that you need some kind of moral support, that... well, puny flesh-things that kind of get on your nerves aren't always the be-all end-all of humanity? How do you get them to understand that? Help a fellow cyborg out, man!"

The Paladin? Dinky. Babbage? Small, not uber-terrorizing. the giant frickin' robot in the Hess TF?

Now we're talking. But it needs to be... bigger.