Supergroup Recruitment: The Elseworlds Phalanx

[Evil Midnight Lurker]

New on Virtue, founded by Skye: a villan group composed entirely of evil alternate versions of the Heroes of Paragon City, whether pulled in by Portal Corp,
cloned by Science Gone Mad, or whatever.

Membership so far is Skye's Blitzartig, a Nazi Synapse; Stormgear's Knight of Malta, an alternate Infernal (a Malta op with Bat'Zul bound within
him); and my own Pizarro Statesman, inappropriate duplicate of Marcus Cole driven by the insane desire to conquer Peru.

In the remote chance that anyone has any slots left free on Virtue, we hope you'll join us. Feel free to create duplicates of heroes we've already
got, too -- the more alternate Statesmen the better.

ETA: A little variety in powersets would be good though. As it happens, we're all Elec/* Science Brutes. o.O;

--Sam

"Why am I here? Why does my mind have wings? Why do blue midgets hit me with fish?!"

[jpub]

I'll join up when I12 hits, with my female Tyrant-type Statesman - Doyenne.

[Bob Schroeck]

Whoever it was who had the Statesfreak should do an evil version of him.

If I can think of something suitably outrageous, I will rail at the fact that I have no open slots left on Virtue.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[Sofaspud]

As it happens, I *have* a slot or two free on Virtue (1 open, 1 I don't mind deleting)... but I'm having a hard time coming up with a concept. Maybe
an evil Positron? I dunno...

Gimme ideas and I'll run with it, but I'm coming up blank on my own...

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

[Ankhani]

When i12 hits, I might make a elseworlds Ms. Liberty as one of the Villian EATs. Probably a Spider, seein as she's a scrapper in game.
---

The Master said: "It is all in vain! I have never yet seen a man who can perceive his own faults and bring the charge home against himself."

>Analects: Book V, Chaper XXVI

[The Hunterminator]

Sofaspud wrote:

---

As it happens, I *have* a slot or two free on Virtue (1 open, 1 I don't mind deleting)... but I'm having a hard time coming up with a concept. Maybe
an evil Positron? I dunno...




Gimme ideas and I'll run with it, but I'm coming up blank on my own...

How about a Mastermind Positron that's a master commander and expert at efficiently sending his troops where they will be needed. In other words, a
Bizaro Positron.

[HDTrio]

Hm. So many idea's. I'll of course be thinking on it. ^_^

[Sofaspud]

Ok, evil MM Positron is up and running. A Mercs/FF MM named "Deviant Chaotron" (kudos to anyone who catches the reference).

He's a techhead scientist who seeks to establish the "perfect" form of society -- a pure meritocracy, where intelligence is paramount -- by any
means necessary. He cares nothing for the lives or opinions of 'lesser minds'; if you're not on par with him then your best use is as a test
subject.

(And I've been playing him the way Hunterminator described: send in the minions, efficiency is key. He's only unslung his own weapon a couple of times
so far...)

His mercs are his servants, lab assistants, bodyguards, and test subjects, depending on his whim and the needs of the moment. Fortunately, there are always
more mercs to hire, no matter WHAT universe you're in...

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

[Render]

Evil twins and bizarros and mirror universes, oh my! I have no open slots on Virtue, but I will think on this. Could do an evil version of Faraday (nah, too
many Elec Brutes already) or Badb (SS/Will Brute?) or pick on one of the Phalanx. Hm...

[Evil Midnight Lurker]

Oh, before I forget again, "alternate evil" versions of villains are also welcome. It's already been noted that the Crab Spider backpack could
let VEAT players be mirror Recluses.

--Sam

"I ain't sayin' evil is wicked bad, it just ain't wicked good."

[Acyl]

"Interstate"

The philosopher is the only one who can see the sun. Only he has emerged from the cave, only he basks in the light. But he must return to the cave, he must go
back among those still staring at the walls, those who can only see the shadows. He must educate them, help them, and uplift them. That is what Plato wrote. It
was true in his day, and it is true now. Plato's works are widely read in our new world, and I find that somehow fitting.

Knowledge is precious now, for much was lost when the Rikti burned our cities. Only recently have we begun to rebuild, and philosophy is now an integral part
of our education system. We owe that to one man. He was a petty gang member, one of the Warriors. Like many of his ilk, he took the name of a famous Greek as
his own. But the Warrior called Plato eventually rose above his brethren, joining us in our fight. Now he is Platotron, the staunchest of the Phalanx. During
the war, he was a soldier. But today he is our greatest rebuilder, teaching our youth and sharing the wisdom in his datatracks.

It is only right that he lead our people into this new era. The Rikti are gone. The war is over. Now our people must learn to live. And for that, I believe
Platotron to be a better leader than I.

My destiny lies elsewhere.

The Rikti were from another world, and our scientists say there are many such planes besides our own. Our world is fortunate. We have found peace. But how many
others are there...that have not seen the light?

That is why I stand here today, upon the island once known as Peregrine. Before me, the portal writhes and churns, its energies held fast by a ring of steel.
From my vantage point, looking down, I can see the engineers labouring to stabilise the wormhole, preparing it for the journey ahead.

My journey.

When we first built the gateway, it was useless for travel. The portal shifted wildly, jumping randomly through dimensions. But now, it has finally locked on
to a single world. Our scientists say this plane has some special quality that makes it easier to reach, easier to travel to. They are certain this other world
has also been touched by the Rikti, and they suspect some of our people may already exist there. That is good enough. It shall be my destination.

A voice interrupts my musing. Someone speaks, behind me. The words are drowned out by the noise of the gateway, but I recognise the voice. I turn from the
railing, and smile at my old apprentice.

She scowls back, a burst of static coming from her throat as she increases her volume. "'bout time," she hisses, "been tryin' ta get ya
attention fer like two cycles now. You scanning right?"

I shake my head, gesturing with a claw. "No," I reply, "lost in thought. I'm sorry, Mission. What is it?"

Mission Lib takes a step forward, clapsing me on the shoulder. "Plat and the rest are 'ere," she said, nodding to the portal room floor,
"they wanna word wit'cha before yer transit. C'mon."

I follow Mission down the stairs...and there they are, my comrades. Platotron is at the front of the group, his features unreadable behind his tank armor. But
Mantechcore, standing beside him, is more obviously irate. He points his trademark rocket launcher at me, growling, "Man, can't believe you were going
to jet before saying goodbye. If Miss Lib hadn't clued us in, you'd..."

Sister Clamor silences him, dragging him back with a hand over his mouth, but the point was made. I sigh, apologetically.

"Didn't want to make any fuss," I explain, "besides, I..."

"No," Platotron cuts in, "you deserve a proper send-off. Right, people?"

He turns to the crowd, and I look to them as well. They're all here, Newmecha, Blastion, System, Veritech, Internal, Menace, Illuminary, Cynx, Force
Shield, the Dreck Alley Brawler...and more.

My atomic heart skips a tick.

"RIGHT," they roar. Someone starts a chant, and the rest take it up, the words echoing off the walls...

"FREAKSHOW! FREAKSHOW! FREAKDOM PHALANX!"

"My friends," I murmur, still shocked, "I don't know what to say." Taking a deep breath, I force fresh air through my intake filters,
then draw myself up in the Phalanx salute.

"No need, boss," Menace smirks. He pries open Blastion's chest panel, reaching inside the android's torso compartment. "JUST
PARTY!"

He throws something at me, and I catch it - a chilled bottle of the Freakshow's finest. And the gathering erupts into utter chaos as Menace and Blastion
hand out drinks to the rest of the crowd.

I smile.

* * *

Federal Bureau of Super-powered Affairs

***CLASSIFIED***

Preliminary Report: "Statesfreak"

The "Statesfreak" claims to be an alternate version of our world's Statesman. According to Portal Corp
scans and blood samples analysed by SERAPH, this appears to be true. He is genetically identical to Statesman (AKA Marcus Cole) but also registers a 3.494
variance on the Webb Index, indicating he is indeed alien to this dimension rather than a clone or magical reproduction.

The Statesfreak arrived in our reality through a portal generated from his home world. More accurately, he arrived in
Pocket D, the super-powered club and discotheque built in a space-time bubble. His people possess rudimentary portal technology, but seem unable to reliably
travel between worlds like we do. The Statesfreak claims ours was the only world he could reach, due to unique conditions caused by past incursions and the
continued presence of Pocket D. This seems consistent with our knowledge of dimensional barriers, though it is unclear why the Statesfreak materialised
unconscious in a Pocket D toilet stall, or why his bloodstream was contaminated with massive amounts of alcohol and other narcotic substances. It is not known
if sedation is a necessary part of his world's dimensional-travel procedure.

This is not unprecedented; several alternate versions of Statesman have visited our dimension in the past. But the
Statesfreak is unusual in that his appearance and abilities differ greatly from Statesman's. Cole's other known counterparts have all demonstrated one
or more of his powers - super-strength, invulnerability, flight, and ranged electrical attacks - with the Reichman and Tyrant matching Statesman in all areas.
Yet the Statesfreak does not possess any of those powers.

The Statesfreak is a cyborg, apparently the leader of his world's Freakshow (or 'Freakdom Phalanx', as he
calls them). According to the Statesfreak, his group is a hero organisation, not than a criminal one. He says his Freakshow saved the world from a Rikti
invasion. Now they are at peace, and he has come to our world to continue his fight against evil. Short of visiting his dimension ourselves, we have no way to
confirm this. He seems sincere, but it is possible his story merely represents the truth /as he sees it/.

Due to his cyborg nature, the Statesfreak possesses numerous physical and sensory enhancements (documented in Annex B),
but his primary abilities are radiation emission and sonic blasts. That said, MAGI believes his true difference from Statesman lies in his magical signatures.
Like Statesman (and all his counterparts), the Statesfreak is an Incarnate, imbued with the power of an otherworldly persona. But while Statesman is an avatar
of Zeus, the Statesfreak bears the touch of a less powerful figure, though also one from Greek legend.

MAGI researchers believe he is somehow an Incarnate of Orpheus, the musician and priest. Accounts of Orpheus' life
vary, but he is universally recognised as: a) legendary bard, and b) a man who was torn to death by Maenads (or, in one version, irate Thracian women).

If accurate, this would explain both his sonic blasts and cyborg body. It does not, however, explain his ability to
project radiation - that appears to be purely a product of hardware. During his debriefing, Statesfreak informed FBSA agents that his skull contains an
"atomic-powered karaoke machine", and invited them to try it out. Unfortunately, none of them were willing to volunteer. This issue may require
further study.

The Statesfreak has been provisionally approved for operations as a registered hero under the FBSA's Visitor Liason
programme, pending the conclusion of this investigation.

* * *

-- Acyl

[jpub]

 
(Clickable pic)
The Main Street Mistress
Michelle White was the daughter of a gang enforcer in an alternate universe to this one. She joined her first gang at 12, and rose to lead it in days. When she realized that there was much more to be done, she proceeded to bring more gangs under her survey under the codename Main Street Mistress. Michelle studied advanced psychology and chemistry in her efforts to sway gangs under her control. For the past 20 years, she fought a ruthless campaign to maintain and expand her control, becoming de-facto ruler of Paragon City and the Rogue Isles. The Mistress briefly pretended to enter a peaceful seclusion after that, but came back out publicly to protect her turf during the Rikti War. Now she has discovered new ground to conquer in this alternate Paragon City and Rogue Isles, and heaven help those who stand in her way.