Virtue Is Its Own Reward

[Morganite]

Personally, I have my doubts about how "conventional" any conventional troops in CoH are. '.'
And there's other factors involved too in determining effectiveness. Like, from what I've read, a lot of really heavy anti-vehicle weapons can't really be aimed effectively at targets that are too small - like, say, the average hero.
But the biggest issue might be just the general sort of strange abilities that forces in this universe aren't set up to handle - invisiblity, intangibility, teleportation, being able to disintegrate inconvenient walls, etc.
(Which would be part of the crux of the comments Alexis might make in response to Valles' last post if she is in fact there - she likes the basic idea, but she's not going to lend the concentration camp idea much credence, because she doesn't think anyone could pull it off.)
-Morgan."Mikuru-chan molested me! I'm... so happy!"
-Haruhi, "The Ecchi of Haruhi Suzumiya"
---(Not really)

[Valles]

I had been thinking 'before', but after would work too, if that's needed to get more people involved in writing it.

===============================================
"Reseeestunce ees fiutil. Yoo weeel bee Useemooletud. Borg Borg Borg."
===========

===============================================
"V, did you do something foolish?"
"Yes, and it was glorious."

[Morganite]

I was mainly wondering because that's what determines if Alexis is there or not. (I decided to have her arrive the morning of the mall trip so as to not have to figure out what she was doing during the previous fight...)
-Morgan."Mikuru-chan molested me! I'm... so happy!"
-Haruhi, "The Ecchi of Haruhi Suzumiya"
---(Not really)

[crimsonsun]

((Im adlibbing the exact security layout as I dont know it. Forgive the artistic license))
We flew for days. Even as the crow (or the robot in this case) flies, it still takes a while to get to Kentucky going 35 mph. Times like this I regret not slotting her flight powers, but at the time, her attacks were more important. I mean, it was a game and all.
Flame has never been the best conversationalist, and thats my fault. It didnt help now. I had DAYS of quiet which I cannot STAND. Before this incident, I ALWAYS had to have some form of background noise on. Music, TV, someone talking, SOMETHING. But this this was disturbing. I mentioned before the lack of human body noise, and that was even worse. I had no heartbeat or anything to focus on. I slept a couple times during the trip, but I knew we kept going.
For her part of the trip, Flame was mostly on autopilot. Literally. We did land a few times for Flame to recharge somehow. I wasnt sure how that works. I hadnt thought of how she regained her endurance, so I wasnt sure how it worked. I wasnt even sure her dark energy powers would work. The Cities world seemed to have different laws of physics where stuff there worked different than here. Or at least, it seemed that way.
We arrived early Tuesday morning after flying the last couple hours barely over the treetops. She landed lightly a couple miles away in the woods. Walking to the edge of the forest line, we could see a large open field, multiple large buildings, and what looked like a practice field for tanks maybe? Some vehicle with tracks instead of wheels at least. The fields had a double layer of fence around it, with the usual barbed wire and cameras. Flame scanned the perimeter and saw guards positioned along the fence.
Eh, not that dangerous. What do you know about it, worm? Flame asked me.
{Other than it being one of the main training locations for tanks in the US? Not much more than that..} I was learning it was just easier to answer her with a partial truth. I wasnt sure what she could do to me if she was really angry.
Tanks? Thats all? Pfft. Those things are slower than Malta titans. Not a problem! She grinned again.
I saw the following flash along the bottom our field of vision
-- THERMAL LIFT SYSTEM ACTIVATED --
-- THERMAL DEFLECTION SHIELD ACTIVATED --
-- PLASMA DEFLECTION SHIELD ACTIVATED --
-- THERMAL PROJECTION SYSTEM ACTIVATED --
-- BE WARNED - HUMAN CONTACT AT THESE TEMPERATURES MAY CAUSE PHYSICAL HARM. PLEASE REFRAIN YOUR CONTACT TO DISPOSABLE WASTE --
The grass at our feet flash burned.
I was confused by the next line of text I saw.
_(@#KJLAWPLMHULKASNDOPOER!*^/.!
I was about to ask what that one meant, and then I saw it. The dark purple swirls gather around her hands, flecked with sparks of fire. I wasnt religious, but I said a small prayer for the soldiers stationed here.
We charged forward, sliding along a cushion of superheated air. One of the guards was attentive and caught sight of us and started shouting. We were quite a way away, but Flames hearing systems filters and amplified it.
Youve entered a restricted area! Stop now or I WILL use lethal force! Thats what youd expect someone to say. I give the guy credit, he held his ground, with a giant flaming ball sliding towards him.
Flame didnt give him credit. Hell, she didnt even give him a second thought. She kept going.
He began to fire his rifle at us.

((Damn you Flame! No robbing the gold! >

[firvulag]

So I got bored and kind of distracted towards the end of the sadly, mostly content free last class of the term today and I ended up thinking about the "two-weeks notice" bit of ViiOR that Foxboy's mentioned now and again. Anyway, this scene is part of what resulted.
--------
The students had just reached the collective decision that the TA wasn't going to show up, and that the tutorial had been cancelled when a cloud of smoke appeared at the front of the room. It rapidly dissipated revealing a bored looking young woman holding a sheaf of papers. She glanced up at the class.
"Right, sorry about that. We had a bit of a problem with the motion stage's latest vict... volunteer test subject."
She smiled brightly at them. "Now, before we begin today's tutorial, 'Fusion weapons, the JSDF and you', I've been asked to remind you of several things. First of all, make certain to save all your receipts, Carleton cannot reimburse you for materials for your term project if you do not have your receipts and have not filled out the correct forms, in triplicate, before the deadline. Second, any organic materials must pass the vetting process before they can be used. Thirdly those of you who will be working together on a giant robot need to submit your team list by Wednesday. And finally, you are reminded that Sunrise have some very good lawyers, better than either you or the university can afford."
She turned to the board and began hunting for a piece of chalk. Behind her the class fidgeted and one, braver than the rest, spoke up. "Um, Miss?"
She glanced back over her shoulder and he continued.
"What are you talking about? This is 'Intro to Digital Circuits'," he said.
She stopped writing on the board and turned to face them again. "Digital circuits? You're sure?"
"Yes Miss."
Frowning, she shuffled through the notes she had brought. "I don't suppose you signed the waiver of liability forms then, did you?" she said.
"No Miss."
Placing her hand behind her head she gave an embarrassed laugh. "Um, if you'll excuse me for a moment I have to make a phone call. Won't be a minute."
She hurried to the door, but stopped just before she left the room. "If you happen to hear a whistling sound that could be mistaken for incoming artillery, you might want to hide under the desks," she said.
The spokesman swallowed nervously. "That will help?"
"Um, sure, we'll go with that. Be right back." And she ducked out of the room.
--
The future has arrived; it's just not evenly distributed.
-William Gibson

[Morganite]

(This is a scene that's been percolating in my mind for a while. I don't have a specific time for it, since it happening hinges on something that
hasn't happened yet. But it probably *will* happen at some point, if Morgan gets into enough fights...)

---

I've never been that enamoured of full length mirrors. Okay, I can't claim to *not* find myself aesthetically appealing these days, but... I just
don't really see the point. About the only time I got any use out of the one at home was when I needed to shave, because it was the only mirror I could get
close enough to to be able to do a good job. Not that that's an issue anymore.

Nonetheless, here I was, naked in front of a mirror. I'd already checked my front over thoroughly enough, so now I was checking my back.

I had to get in kind of an awkward position with my head twisted around to get a good look at it, but there it was. A small circle with a pattern of lines and
arcs radiating from it, apparently tattooed on the small of my back. A moderately embarrassing and inconvenient position, so it suited the major requirements
as I knew them.

As I put the dress back on, I made a note to be very careful about not accidentally backing into geological exhibits or shiny rock formations while in this
mode.

---

-Morgan. No, I don't have an ulterior motive of wanting to remind people of this setting, why would you think that? *innocent innocent*

[Sweno]

Because this is too cool to let it die.
I know I'm a little vague about the other participants, but seeing as we don't currently know who is going to be at bob's house 3-4 weeks after the event I wanted to leave it as malleable as possible.
**********

Sneaking 6 tons of protector bots into a DC-10 for a cross country flight: Free

Being reminded that Ninjas will always be far more stealthy than I ever will be: A small chunk of pride

Starting my first meeting with the Legendary on a non-hostile footing: Priceless

***

Of course non-hostile doesn't mean harmless. Which is why I'm now siting in a spare bedroom, while my friends/enemies debate what to do with me elsewhere in the house. In order to help with the whole "I'm not a threat" thing, the protector bots are powered down outside, and I gave my mace to the ninja who found me (I'm really going to have to learn their names).

I can definitely say I was unexpected, the conversation that was going on in the living room stopped dead when aforementioned ninja lead me inside. I managed to suppress the desire to literally say "I come in peace, take me to your leader", but "I know we haven't always been been friends, but I'm hoping that can change." wasn't the best opening line either.

The looks the bounced around the room let me know that at least someone recognized me, even if I couldn't say the same thing. Casual clothing only goes so far to hide your appearance when your skin isn't flesh. One of the guys left he room with an announcement of "I'm calling Nogi". The rest shared a few quick words that I didn't try to hear before it was suggested that I stay in the guest bedroom.

I assume that someone is guarding the door, heck, I wouldn't put it past one of the ninjas to actually be in the room with me. But I'm carefully not listening to the voices that occasionally drift up here. I'm carefully not running battle simulations and calculating how best to run if things go south. I'm carefully not attempting to access the wifi signals I can pick up to hack into the local computer network. I'm not doing any of these things. Not because I don't want to, but because I have to learn how to be a 'good guy'.

So I sit on the bed, and hope that Nogi will convince the rest of them to at least hear me out. They are my best chance at getting home, the largest collection of magic and technological knowledge that I know of. I just need to make myself one of them. An upgrade/overhall that is far more about perception than capabilities, my own as much as others.

War is coming, if it will be a cold one fought in the shadows, or a hot one fought in the streets I can't say. If we are pitched against 'normals' or 'villains' I don't know. But our entrance to this world is far too disruptive for things to just settle down. And I need all the help I can get if I'm going to survive it.

**********
So what do you guys think? good/bad/confused?
Hopefully this will poke a few other muses.
-Terry

-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

[Morganite]

Hmm. A couple questions.

1. Got a reference image for CP?

2. Has she shared with anyone her goal of getting back to some other universe?

2.5. ... Clank is a she, right? '.';;;

-Morgan.

[Sweno]

Here's a Pic:


She was modeled after the physical style of the Muses as a starting point.
She has been upgrading her self over time, but finding quality parts (very hard) and people she trusts to perform delicate operations on her internals (no one in COHverse) is difficult. So 95% of the modifications are external add-ons.
Hence the Large and bulky gauntlets/boots. They are external armaments that serve three purposes:
1) boost her communication range & strength with her bots.
2) house the necessary gear to generate her force fields
3) house the necessary gear to drive the teleportation of herself and others.
(rp wise I view the stealth as an offshoot of the force field tech, and her healing abilities are still suffering from cannibalizing parts)
The glasses (vision enhancement) and cape (the most stylish/unobtrusive way to strap 40 feet of antenna wire to your back) also have their purposes.

Those she has spent time with and views as trustworthy know of her definite interest in portal tech. But she has yet to share the fact explicitly.

Yes, she is female.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

[Morganite]

Well, there goes what I was thinking of then. Alexis certainly isn't going to bring out the two (non-functioning) Dimension Spanners she has if she
hasn't heard of anyone trying to get back. And she has no other reason to have any real opinion about CP.

(Not that it's necessarily a good idea for anyone to get a head start on that, even if "Portal Corp arrives" is somewhere on the timeline... but
it could be a useful plot point, once they know they have a common goal that way...)

-Morgan.

[CrimsonKMR]

Rounds from the guards assault rifle towards us and began to slow down as the got closer.
As we charged forward to meet the rounds, they exploded as they hit the wall of superheated air Flame was generating. More and more rounds flew at us, and a
couple managed to get through the barrier, but they simply bounced off her metallic frame. Flame grinned as she charged her fist with energy.

I was trying to stop myself from getting excited. I knew what we were doing was wrong,
but I couldn't help myself. Being able to get into a situation like this and know that we're probably gonna stomp across the competition was
enchanting. I had to try to get Flame to calm down.

{Why not just use a martial arts style yell as we charge?} I said with as much sarcasm as
I could fit into my voice. I don't think she bought it.

We closed the last space between us and the guard, and Flame let fly a right hook charged
with the energy of the Underworld.

To say he went down like a sack of rocks was an understatement. He flew back and a loud
unf escaped his mouth. Flame quickly grabbed his rifle and melted the barrel before throwing it back down to the ground. We continued on the way to the closest
building.

Someone else must have seen us because an alarm was raised. Soon I imagined the entire
base would come down on our heads. She didn't seem to care though. We reached the building and Flame begain smashing her way through the wall, using her
fire and negative energy to disrupt the structural integrity of the wall as she pounded on the wall with her fists.

The section of the wall collapsed and we rushed in. I saw tanks. Lots of tanks. And lots
of people trying to man those tanks, getting them ready for whatever was on the base. I doubt they were being mobilized yet. Flame charged in and started
pounding her way through tank crew members, burning some and using her fists on others. I was appalled with the wounds she was causing. This world just was not
meant to handle this. She kept up her assault, stopping briefly to ruin each tank by melting its treads to its frame.

She heard the whine before I did and snapped her head around. One of the turrets had
turned towards us. They had, wisely I guess, to sacrifice their own tanks to stop us. A shell was fired at us.

Flame grinned and snapped her fingers. Tentacles reached up from... somewhere and grabbed
the shell in mid-flight. They caressed the shell for a moment before pulling it along with them as they returned to where they came from. Flame...
laughed. She outright laughed. I think she was having
fun. A blast of red electricity flew from her hands and covered
the tank. I'm not sure what happened, but smoke started coming from the bank of the tank and the crew clambered out, smoke flowing out of the
hatch.

A column of lightning came down through the roof, bringing along with it one of the Mu.
Sirrocco owed Flame a large favor, and had granted her limited use of some of his forces. "Finish taking out these tanks for me. I've got larger
things in mind.

*Yes, Mistress* the Mu "said."
There is no coincidence, only necessity....
- Clow Reed

[CrimsonKMR]

We left the hanger and made our way towards the main building as the Striker began to
cause havoc amongst the tanks. Guards continued to fire at us, but Flame either ignored them completely or threw red lightning bolts to silence the
guns.

Something exploded to our right side and we were thrown to the left. Flame stood up and
shook her head, looking for the source of the problems. She saw a number of soldiers aim at us with RPGs. Standing up, she started in their
direction.

"Oh ho, they're finally starting to take me seriously. I think it's a little
late for them." I felt her grin again.

She dodged rockets as she closed in on the group. As we got closer, she turned off her
aura of fire that was designed to hurt rather than protect. We jumped over the soldiers and landed behind them.

"Hi boys! Are you having fun yet? I know I am!" This was not good. She was
getting… giddy? It's the emotion I wanted to see last… except for anger. I really don't want to see Flame angry….

"You monster!" said one of the group, firing his rocket at us point blank.
Flame ducked under the shell and looked over her shoulder as it slammed into the doors of the building.

"I'll take that as a no. Too bad." She raised her arms and channeled the
energy of the Underworld out from her. It went into each of the soldiers and drained their life energy. Flame then pulled that energy into herself and I felt
some of the power systems began to run faster. I had always wondered how that would enhance a robot. The soldiers didn't fair well, and they passed
out.

We went through the wreck of the doors and into the lobby. Most of the guards here had
been knocked unconscious by the explosion. I think they were going to be the lucky ones. They wouldn't have to face the wrath of Flame. Flame went over to
the main desk and found an intact printout of the building. I could see it was labeled to use as a fire map incase of emergency. The vault doors were clearly
marked and only a few corridors away. She started down the hall.

{Sooo… what exactly are you going to do with this gold? It's not like we can carry it
out, and I don't see a getaway vehicle.} That was the question I posed her, and it appeared to stump her. She stopped.

"I… I need a place to hide out while I decide exactly what to do. This is one of the
most secure locations on my Earth. If I'm going to get money, I'm going to do it in style and smash my way there." Her hesitation gave me hope
that I might someday get control. It seemed that she wasn't as sure of herself as the face she was putting on. Something about being robbed from her planet
and having goals given to her by others was really shaking her up. It must be a leftover of her robotic heritage.

We reached the doors and Flame went to the hinges, her hands reaching out as she began to
superheat them. They began to drip liquid steel onto the floor, and eventually she burned her way through. She went over to the novelty size wheel in the
center of the door and began to pull. I could hear the joints and servos strain as Flame activated her flight systems for extra power. The door strained and
with a loud crunch of steel and concrete, it gave way into the main vault.

It was empty. Or at least, it was mostly so. A few pallets of gold were in the center of
the large room, but other than that, the extra space was shocking.

"Is that all?" She seemed to ask the emptiness. I remained silent, knowing the
US had moved or sold most of the gold years ago. "Very well, it'll be enough." She went to the closet pallet and took a number of the large bars
and melted them into an unrecognizable lump with a handle. There were at least 10 bars in that mess, and I could only imagine the money it would sell
for.

We flew out of the building and off in the direction of Houston according to her nav.
system.

She didn't notice the blinking light on the security camera as we left the
lobby.

--------------

"These pictures was released today by the US Army after a violent attack on Fort
Knox this afternoon."

A number of snap shots and a video aired on the television as the voice continued to
speak

"The army is still unsure of who or what caused the attack, but they have been able
to confirm that it is not the actions of any known Terasdawe group, and no one has claimed responsibility for the act. 17 American soldiers died during the
attack. Joining me this evening on Larry King Live is Retired Lt. General Carl Burden to discuss the nature and results of the attack. Later, Dr. Walter
Schoen, an expert in UFO theories who believes it was an extraterrestrial attack. Finally we have Dr. Richard Lentz, an expert in modern weapons technology to
explain exactly how this horrific assault was conducted. He personally believes it may have been caused by one of the people involved in the incident reported
last week involving the computer game City of Heroes. We'll be right back with Lt. General Burden on Larry King Live!"

As the show faded to black, it clearly showed Corrupted Flame's face grinning on one
of the camera stills.

((Ok guys, someone has to do something now, hopefully Nogi will see this and freak
))
There is no coincidence, only necessity....
- Clow Reed

[Evil Midnight Lurker]

He was clad in bright red, blue, and gold; he was almost supernaturally handsome, and ripped beyond the dreams of bodybuilders. Everything about him said
"SUPERHERO."

...Except for the part where he was engaged in bank robbery in broad daylight. That was what we like to call a 'tell.'

The BofA didn't have many security guards, and their bullets were just bouncing off his sparkly aura. Classic Invul/SS Tanker, beyond a doubt. He laughed
as he drifted toward the vault, and declared: "You can't stop me, morons! No one can stop... JUSTICE TRUTH!"

"But.. but..." A young teller, her comic senses outraged, leveled the obvious question. "Shouldn't you be, like, a hero with a name like that?"

"Hero? Ha!" JT cackled. "I can be whatever I want to be, kid, that's what having power means! Now shut up or I'll pop your head like
a zit." He brought one mighty-thewed arm back, preparing to smash the safe door in.

Couldn't have asked for a better straight line.

"You can be whatever you want to be? That's good to know," a voice like the tolling of a leaden bell answered. "In that case, I choose to
be... a real hero." JT whirled, scowling, as the overhead lights dimmed and blots of pure darkness crawled over
the windows. "Citizens, what you're about to see... may terrify you, and I apologize, but I assure you that in this case the monsters are on your
side."

As the shadows spread, paradoxically, reflective surfaces throughout the bank became clearer, more perfect mirrors... but nothing human could be seen within.
Twisted mockeries crouched in their places, utterly still for a long moment, then with frightening speed lashing out -- claws breaking the surface of glass and
metal, impossibly pulling themselves into reality as horrified screams arose. No more than three feet tall, the creatures' heads were far too large for
their bodies... and their fangs, rather too large even for those heads.

"What the hell--!" the 'hero' gaped, trying to keep track of the several dozen things slowly
approaching him. "What are you, some kind of Mastermind? These... they ain't zombies..."

"Mirror goblins," the leaden voice informed him. "I was a roleplayer. Lucky for you I wasn't
playing a very realistic role, or you'd be carried out of here in a body bag. You still may, I suppose, if you're dumb enough. Care to
surrender?"

"Oh, hell no!" As the goblins neared, JT took a mighty swing. Wildly aimed, his fist still impacted on one, which squelched most unpleasantly and
promptly dissolved into stinking vapors. "These things are wimps! What else you got, Mister high-and-mighty Mastermind?"

"Well, I do know something you don't know."

"...And what's that?"

"There's a mirror behind you, dumbass."

Justice Truth whirled, in time to see his own warped reflection step out of the vault door -- no goblin this, but a demonic thing bigger than he, with
immensely long and multijointed arms that wrapped around him and squeezed. As he gasped for air, the mirror-demon
turned him around to face the unbelieving bank personnel and customers... and something else, a figure of darkness that rose from the floor and took on form; a
gaunt, cloven-hooved creature in Chinese robes, a crown of horns on its head, great tattered bat-wings rustling at its back... It raised its hand and a bolt
of shadow shot forth, striking JT in the chest. The cold, the incredible cold...

"I am the King of Three Shadows," the demon intoned, shaking his head, "and you didn't even
remember to take Resist Energies. Jeez, that's pathetic."

--Sam

Disclaimer: At the time of writing, there was no such character as "Justice Truth" on Virtue Server. Justice Truth is not meant to defame or mock
any particular existing CoH character or player.

[Matrix Dragon]

A quick question. While I DID only start playing properly this year, any chance I could add one of my characters to VIIOR?

[Bob Schroeck]

I'm sure that in the universe where VIIOR is happening, you were playing much longer.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[Foxboy]

::Setting Guru::

Or you could be one of the "native" supers that came about due to the physics alteration. After the event, radiation accidents have a slim chance of causing superpowers rather than leukemia, and folks who spend a lot of time around computers have exposure to mana/datamagic.

Probably around May 2007 in VIIOR timeline, the equivalent to the "Inventions System" will be discovered, and "Native" origins may start occurring. That is, "real people" will have "real superpowers" instead of being CoH copies. Of course, it should still be pretty rare to be any where NEAR as powerful as the "Virtues."

I guess what I'm saying is, Most Virtues are 250+ points in Champions terms with Bigwigs like GW potentially in the near 1000 point range.

Native Heroes usually max out, at origin, around 200.

We could also have someone attempt "datamagic" rituals over their other MMO toons, etc.

Remember, we have a finite number of "Virtues" affected in the setting origin.

However, if you had the fortune to be running a trial account you would have still been affected if you were on, so we can fudge a little.

And sometimes, we need some characters who are "normal" to ground us supers.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[ECSNorway]

Some normals are Albert the Butler.

Some normals are The Goddamn Batman.



I would like to see some cop or ex-special-forces type who decides to try to compete on the same level as the Virtues, by being -smart- and genre-savvy. Fox
and I have had some chatter about this before, on one level....
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

[Bob Schroeck]

Here's an idea, based on a conversation that my dad and I had decades ago when I was a kid.

There already were "super heroes" in the VIIOR world. They just didn't wear costumes or go public. They are, as Norway suggests, ex-cops or ex-special forces, or ex-similar, and well-equipped. Basically, Batman without the fetishwear, and no interest in getting known for vigilantism.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[Sofaspud]

I'm not able to join in as one of my Virtue characters for reasons already covered in this thread -- the date I started playing being chiefmost among them
-- but if y'all need a normal to play off of, hey, I can *do* that.

(Strangely enough, I've always preferred playing the normal-guy-in-over-his-head type rather than a character with super-special abilities and whatnot. If
this arc is open for that, I may just join in via that route...)

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

[Morganite]

I would say do whatever you think you'll have the most fun with. Really, given the whole premise, I don't think fudging the date you started playing is
that horrible a thing to do.

(Of course, I'll support most things that get this setting more active. ^_- )

Having the character already be affiliated with the Legendary in that timeline could complicate things in the "who knows/recognizes who" department,
but that's easily dodged by just having them not be. You could probably still get them in the group with everyone else by seeing what got on TV and
deciding they'd like to join up.

Or you could do one of the other things suggested above. '.'

-Morgan.

[CrimsonKMR]

As a note, I do have something Im working on for when Im not being dragged around by Flame (and waiting for something to decide what to do with her -_- )
There is no coincidence, only necessity....
- Clow Reed

[Matrix Dragon]

I was in the middle of investigating a Pantheon kidnapping when it happened. One moment, I was taking down a Death Shaman before he could enhance his rotting
puppets, the next, I was sitting in a chair, looking at a computer screen displaying the words 'Lost connection to mapserver.' Frankly, it was an
uncomfortable chair, the wall on the left pressing up against my wing.

And... something else. My memories were wrong. I was Ifrit Barnes, with the memories of Robert Barnes. I knew this all too well. But this room was mine as
well, but it was... I stopped, looking back at the computer screen. City of Heroes. Lady of the Peace was one of my characters. But I was Lady of the Peace. I
knew both these facts to be true. Which meant, what?

I stood up and walked around, my wings moving slightly as I felt the familiar sensations of my body shifting slightly. Okay, either I'd been turned into my
character, or I'd been pulled out of Paragon and fused with... what? A man in another reality that played a fictional version of me? How does one class
that?

I remembered his life, his friends, his job... hmm, that could be interesting... But right now, I was discovering that I didn't have his personality.
"What a pigsty," I grumbled, getting started on cleaning my flat.

[CrimsonKMR]

"Morning Larry." Mark Herrick said from his desk at the First National Bank in Providence, nodding to the bank
manager. Larry Ross swerved over to the desk.

"Hey Mark. How are things going this morning?"

"Not bad, not bad. Had a kid this morning acting a little shifty, but it turned out he just forgot his ID and was afraid of
what we'd say to him. I'm still not sure what to think of this "Virtue" incident. The idea of people with "super powers" is a bad
thing, especially since we don't know if all these people are on the straight and narrow. Hell, we KNOW some aren't. Remember Fort Knox?"

"Yes, yes I do. Do the best you can though Mark. With your new guards and the weapons, hopefully something can be
done." Mr. Ross walked off towards his office. Mark patted the M-16 rifle on the desk. It was only loaded with non-lethal ammunition now, but there were
two clips of what is commonly known as "cop killers" in a glass case behind him.

The fact that he was an ex-Navy Seal is what convinced the Providence City council to permit the bank to have those rounds.
After 13 years of service to the country, he was honorably discharged into this security position in the bank, using his skills to help guard the money. Of
course nothing ever happened anymore. His contingency plans and general training had prevented four robberies when the experts thought the situation should
have overwhelmed anyone had earned the bank a reputation as impossible to rob.

Mark hated the unknown enemy. He had dealt with it before while on missions, but after the Virtue event; or the dumb comic book
thing as he called it; the playing fiend had been ramped up. His friends still in the service had given him some of the Intel on whoever it was that made the
hit on the fort. She had completely blown through every defense the base could offer. No one was quite sure HOW she did it, other than the liberal use of fire,
and apparently a lot of a thick black smoke. Her display of what those affected by Virtue could do if they were off their rocker had made him plan for a lot
more oddities.

He pulled his pistol out of his holster and placed it on the desk as he disassembled the rifle and cleaned it. He finished
sliding the last bolt into place as he saw a kid maybe 21 or so walk in. What caught his attention was the fact he was wearing ski goggles. Not a ski mask,
just the goggles. The kid was keeping his hands inside the sleeves of his jacket, which struck him as really odd as it was pretty warm out and defiantly not
the weather for a jacket that big. Mark stood up, grabbing the rifle and strode around the desk, heading for the boy.

Suddenly, it got really cold. A pair of ice blue metallic gauntlets slid out of the kid's sleeves. A bluish glow surrounded
them as he walked towards the vault. Mark found it hard to walk, and as he looked down, he could see dark blue ice gather around his legs. It was freezing him
in place fast, no matter how much he tried to move. He took the butt of the rifle and began breaking at the block holding him down. Customers and tellers were
screaming in fear, and most of them running out of the bank. Fortunately, whoever the kid was he didn't seem to be paying attention to the civvies.

Mark looked around and saw all his staff completely enveloped in large blocks of the dark blue ice. Whatever the kid was doing,
he hadn't finished the job with him. Only his feet were frozen solid. He broke his way out of the ice using his rifle then leaned over the desk and slapped
the emergency alarm. Reaching down, he grabbed a hunk of the ice and threw it at the glass box with the lethal rounds, listening to the glass shatter as the
ice hit. He pocketed one clip and began sneaking towards the criminal.

The kid was concentrating on the vault door. He was running his gauntleted hands across the door, leaving behind trails of
frost. Back and forth, back and forth, and the layer of frost got thicket. Eventually he placed his hand in the center of the patch and pushed. The vault door
cracked inward like a brittle piece of drywall.

Mark finally got behind the suspect and stood up behind him, using the skills he was trained with for years to be silent.

"Oi". Mark said.

The kid spun around quickly, shocked. He started to raise his gauntleted hands.

The butt of the rifle came down in the center of his eyes, cracking the plastic of the goggles. He fell like a sack of rocks,
making a loud thud as he hit.

Mark looked around at the cameras, remembering what angles of the perpetrator could be seen on the tapes. He reached down and
slid a gauntlet off the kid's hand, the one that wouldn't have been seen. He looked at it for a long moment before going back to his desk and sliding
it into his bag.

"Now, we're on an even playing ground."

((Anyone feel free to use Mr. Herrick. Just remember he is an Ex-Seal and is used to using whatever he can get ahold of.
That's why Tech origins are so much fun If someone wants to run with what the Gov'ment would do with such a glove, its up to you))
There is no coincidence, only necessity....
- Clow Reed

[Matrix Dragon]

Eventually, I was satisfied with my flats condition and stopped cleaning (Thank goodness the bin was so close to the door). As I sat down, it occurred to me
that this was too complicated for a Pantheon plot. From my new (old?) memories, I knew there weren't any superheroes on this world, so I turned on the tv,
then twisted the remote until the buttons worked and I could find the news. Waiting as they went on about some random celebrity, it became clear that if this
was bigger then just me, it hadn't hit the public eye yet. I considered going back to the computer and checking there, for what would likely be a much
better result, before a yawn interrupted that train of thought.

It seemed the was another difference between my 'player' and myself. He'd been an insomniac. Undressing and hanging my uniform over the edge of the
chair, I decided to get some sleep and look at the problem in the morning. I was out as soon as I hit the bed, a lesson learned from sleeping strange hours in
between Council plots. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction from that for some reason...

I woke up about eight hours later, half-remembering an odd dream about talking, almost arguing, with someone that was rather important. I sat there for a
moment, thinking about it, only to find the memory slipping between my fingers. Sighing, I slid out of the bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. That
was a lesson on the annoyances of a cubicle shower when you've got wings. Not to mention I didn't have any decent body soap or shampoos. Good grief,
how did the boy live like this?

After that, feeling at least clean, I stood in front of the small mirror, looking at my reflection. Making sure I was presentable, I stood in a clear space and
called the flames. They started at my feet and moved up, leaving my civilian clothes behind. They even gathered in my hands for a moment, turning into my
favorite jacket. I smiled and put it on, the magic woven into the jacket letting my wings slide into their pocket 'space' and leaving my ears as the
only obvious sign I wasn't human - and I could think of a glamour or two to hide those.

Fetching my phone, I paused, considered my options, then cast a brief spell. "Testing, testing, one two..." Nodding in satisfaction at the masculine
voice I heard, I called work and claimed I was feeling unwell. It was a weekday, so I could get by for one day without a doctors certificate. With that done, I
was going to get online and start looking... then my stomach interfered. Sighing, I grabbed my wallet and went to the car.

[Render]

I should have waited. Carlson might have put together a task force eventually. Surely other members of the Legendary were changed by the event. We could have
teamed up. But no, I had to rush in and see what Ghost Widow was up to before the cavalry arrived. That's what a scrapper does, right? Especially one
possessed by a goddess of battle. She has no patience.

As recon missions go, it's been a bust. Ghost Widow is hanging around San Fransisco. She's up to something. Some of the new villains--and heroes--are
gathering to her banner. But we already knew all of that.

Instead of a plan, I followed my instincts to Alcatraz. It seemed like it would be irresistible to a villain, but Ghost Widow wasn't there, just a couple
of morons terrorizing the tourists. One of them was standing on the wall with his hands in the air like Charlton Heston playing Moses, summoning a waterspout
and keeping the Coast Guard and news helicopters at a distance, while the other--some kind of green buglike creature--robbed the people trapped on the island.
I missed having names floating above people's heads.

I announced my presence by dancing on Moses' head, and the tourists stampeded. Moses staggered, and I kept kicking him until he went down and stayed down.
I was standing over him wondering which archetype he was supposed to be, when the bug impaled me. I guess it must have hurt, but the moment is gone. The next
thing I remember was my knees hitting the ground as the bony spur withdrew.

I rolled to the side, kicked at him, felt a spine rake my calf as it connected. There was an explosion of bony shrapnel. One of them barely missed my left eye.
The poison was enough to blind me on that side anyway. I got my legs under me and came up swinging, ignoring the blood and bilious green spray that flew every
time I connected. Then he ducked and twisted to his right and I lost him.

I ran. Not going anywhere, just moving, random zig-zags. I wasn't going to stand there fuming while he snuck up behind me and stabbed me again. My hands
stopped hurting and my vision cleared. Maybe he'd decided that he couldn't hurt me badly enough, fast enough to get a kill and he'd
'bugged' out. I laughed, and it didn't hurt a bit. Even if he had managed to drop me, I'd have just gotten back up and pounded him. That would
have surprised him.

Or maybe not. He must have jumped off the prison wall or something. It felt like I'd been slammed into an iron maiden. I managed to tear my arms free and
tried to twist his head off. Not a scratch on his carapace, I noticed. And his head wasn't coming off. My vision started going dim around the edges.

She said something, and I could sense the panic in him as he tried to pull away. My inner idealist went somewhere else and the goddess took over.
Fists and boots pounded him, cracked his armored carapace, breaking the spines protruding from his body. He healed fast, but her intent was lethal and she was
perfectly happy to kill him more than once if she had the chance.

With an eerie, wailing cry, the stalker broke free and jumped, a desperate parabolic arc that plunged him into the bay. I almost went after him, but I was
suddenly human again, fighting the urge to burst into tears or throw up, thoughts racing three directions. That really hurt. PvP Spines/Regen Stalker, had
to be. He nearly killed me. Fear is not commonly resisted. I nearly killed him. You're supposed to be a hero!

And that's how Ghost Widow found me; talking to myself, without a scratch on me after getting stabbed repeatedly on live television.

A blast of darkness chilled me. I know now that she opened with a weak attack. Getting my attention, playing with her food, a cat with a mouse. Foreplay. Pick
a metaphor. Or maybe just raising Domination. I've had plenty of time to think about it.

At the time, I smirked and said, "Was that supposed to hurt?"

She only smiled, hovering above the prison yard. Almost out of reach, but not quite. I did a Jackie Chan move up the inside corner of the wall and launched a
flying kick--and passed right through her, landing hard.

That made her laugh. Not a calculated, intentionally demoralizing laugh, just an honest laugh at unexpected folly. Which was worse. Right. She's a ghost.
I'm probably the only person who played the game and read the comics capable of forgetting that fact. I picked myself up. Dusted off. So embarassed.

"You can't hurt me that way," she said, and tagged me with a wave of darkness that almost knocked me over again.

"Yeah, I remember now. I also remember that you can't be destroyed as long as Arachnos exists. But it doesn't exist."

"Oh, but it does." She gestured down at herself as proof.

"It's just a game. None of this is supposed to be real. Something weird happened and the people playing the game changed, but there's no Paragon
City. No Rogue Isles."

Ghost Widow gave me another of those secretive, blind smiles. "Not in this dimension, perhaps."

"There aren't any other dimensions!"

She hit me with another bolt of darkness. I tried to dodge around the prison yard. It seemed to encourage her. But I was still recovering faster than she hurt
me. So I can't convince her she's crazy. No big surprise there. Forget trying to wrap my brain around whether it's more unlikely a game could model
some parallel world or that a game could give a bunch of people superpowers. How do I deal with a ghost?

"You'll never get away with it!" I stalled. Ok, the powers aren't limited by the game engine, but they're inspired by it. And the game
designers wouldn't create a permanently intangible unbeatable foe. So there's got to be some way to hurt her.

"Get away with what, exactly?"

"Building a new Arachnos? Taking over the world? Holding the Golden Gate Bridge hostage?" Wasn't she supposed to have an uncontrollable desire to
monologue? Her blank white eyes gave nothing away. No hint of a telltale smirk on her lips.

This time, when she took a shot at me, I threw a rock. She was vulnerable when she phased in to attack, in the comics. I hoped. I couldn't really remember
clearly. Either my timing was off or I was wrong. But she looked annoyed. Darkness engulfed me again. I reached for another rock and it passed through my
fingers. The hell? Shrieking, glowing things lifted me off the ground and whirled me about like a gyroscope. Did that one have a face? I could see my breath
fog as I exhaled. I couldn't breathe in. I felt my heartbeat slowing as it got colder and colder.

I fell. Dimly aware that I'd been dropped, and was free. I pushed the cold away, felt my heart beat again. Took in a breath of warm air, then let the
goddess aspect take over again. We struck her with fear and shadows and fury. And this time we hurt her, felt her reel with the blows. But it wasn't
enough.

Ghost Widow rose into the sky, and the darkness broken only by bright spirits of the fallen seized us again. And this time we fell farther.

It took longer to wake, and when I did, I was in a cell, shackled. I didn't see a door.

At my first movement, Ghost Widow appeared, drifting close from somewhere behind me. Possibly through the wall.

"Please, do struggle. It will be entertaining."

I stopped straining against the chains, for the moment. "Now what? I'm the goddess of battle. You can't hold me. Torture won't work on me. I
don't remember pain." But how much would I forget in the process of surviving?

"A goddess forgotten and unworshipped."

"But her power is real. You can't kill me."

Ghost Widow smiled. "Oh, but I can. I have, in fact."

"I don't stay dead."

"No. But I can summon the souls of all those I slay to strike down the living." Her smile became beatific. "Including yours."

"I don't believe you," I said, but felt a chill settle somewhere between my shoulder blades. I thrashed against the chains. I couldn't reach
her. Felt my right shoulder on the verge of dislocation, blood trickling down both wrists as I tried to slip the shackles. Just a little more...

"No, it's not that simple. In fact, it's not simple at all." Ghost Widow drifted closer, near enough that I should have felt something if
she'd been tangible at all.

She whispered, "But I think, if I keep killing you... it will get simpler. Eventually."

And then the pain started in earnest.