| Psychical Taskforce-iculating. |
[Jul. 14th, 2005|10:19 am] |
Greetings citizens--I have returned. I was away for a short period of time on personal business and also to attend to powerful evil stirring in Paragon City. Yesterday, I completed the important task force set before us by Sister Psyche.
Sister Psyche, as you may know, is the resident superhero of Independence Port who insists on dressing like a villainess from a bad 60s spy movie. I think her outfit is officially sponsored by LSD. Here I am, furtively gaining information from her so as to not blow both our important cover identities. It's even more embarassing that she insists on using code names, like "Blue Fox" and "Scarlet Pumpernickel" or somesuch, when everyone knows exactly who she is.
The Sister apparently has mental powers, hence her name. But she failed to display any of these during the course of our task force. The only evidence she ever gave of this was the things she couldn't sense. I can do that. Heck, even the creepily voyeuristic Positron was able to help more, and he only had cell phones and satellites to work with.
For this mission, Sister Psyche demanded we assemble a team of at least five heroes--no less could handle the tremendous tasks before us. Our friend Whysper was out handling a resurgence of Vahzilok activity or such, so we re-enlisted the aid of the ever-vitalized viking North Norse. He also officially joined our supergroup, and modified his costume to match our colors of red and black. This combined with his pointed viking hat meant that every time I stepped around the corner and saw him, I thought Satan himself had invaded Paragon City and was our next opponent.
Also joining us: Resus Annie, a magically empowered training dummy who had wondrous powers of ice and healing; and Simian Wall, an evolutionarily advanced monkey with powerful martial arts abilities. We were temporarily joined by the psychic Polar's Girl, and Pyrozyme, a man of fire like myself, but these two were called away to other emergencies. Evil never sleeps in Paragon City. I wish Starbuck's and Red Bull would just stop selling to them.
The fighting was fast and furious. I can't speak for sure about my partner Jet Wolf, but this was my first experience with such a large group of heroes and enemies, especially since I was the designated leader. The action was quick and chaotic, but I kept my wits about me while sniping down and burning foes. Before long, we had established a solid plan of action: Resus Annie would lay down a sheet of ice upon which we would juggle our foes, slicing and dicing and burning them to heck and back. It worked very well.
Thankfully, none of our group were epileptic, or we may have had a much thinner team after just a single battle...
Our main villains during the course of this task force were the Freakshow, powerful and strange looking foes who model themselves after such epitomes of fashion as Edward Scissorhands, Boba Fett, and the Reavers. They're pretty tough, I admit, especially when you think you've put them down for the count and then they stand up again at full strength. But for those of the group with an unsatiable blood lust twice the opportunity for battle. North Norse's finish cry for the night was "Get up so I can beat you again!"
One suggested cause for the Freakshow's behavior is their living conditions. Note the small cramped spaces, the lack of computers, or televisions, or even toilets. I'd probably start strapping metal to myself and trying to cause mayhem as well.
The biggest and baddest of the Freakshow are their tanks--little more than gigantic husks of armor around men. I suspect that the men inside are in fact, quite tiny and suffering from the most severe cases of little man syndrome that Paragon City has ever seen. Regardless, we took them down quite handily and in fact bested over 200 of them during the course of our proceedings. I earned the coveted "Tank Buster" badge for my efforts. It certainly gets a lot more notice than when I tell people about the badge I got for defeating 100 of the 6-inch clockwork gears that are incapable of doing more than lightly singing my ankles.
Eventually, we met up with the Freakshow arch-villainess Clamor, and by that time, our efforts were in full swing. We did a little too well, in fact--she was defeated so quickly that I failed to even snap off a picture for posterity, and Sister Psyche refused to give us any award. She eventually relented and offered a badge for completion of the tasks, but only after I threatened to turn her in to the union officials. Yes, even superheroes have a union. I'm not actually a card-carrying member, but they never look that up when you make the threat...
Now, I hear there's trouble in the Terra Volta reactor. I need a vacation... |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 12th, 2005|11:13 pm] |
Hi, I'm Penance Healer. Ultrace took a couple days off from superheroing so I'm covering for him. I'll be keeping you up to date on the goings in Paragon City while throwing in a few random shots of my amazing adventures.
I know, I know, me taking over for him seemed so logical to me as well--he's a technologically-based fire-blasting hero and I'm a magically powered healer. We're practically interchangable.
Although I'm definitely better-looking and have a more pronounced fashion sense. Check out my stylin' threads. It just about screams "Medic"! That's what a uniform should be--functional as well as bright and vivid.
I also make a much better healer. Witness this nurse coming up and asking me for medical advice. That happens all the time. Unfortunately, my powers are all magical and I don't know actual medicine, so I have to make stuff up. When it goes bad, I tell them it worked for me, and they must have done it wrong. Like when I said they should get carry that guy with the crushed spine to the hospital really quick. I'd feel guilty, but in the cosmic balance, I'm saving a lot more lives than I'm hurting and that's good, right?
Here I am with my occasional partner, Hero Brand X. This guy is so cool. How cool is he? He's so cool... That he's actually cold. He shoots ice at enemies. While he gets stuff like icicle shards and super cold breath, I just get little radiation bursts to fight evil with. If I was to look up unfair in the dictionary, I'm sure this scenario would be covered.
I think he's so cold in this shot he's actually covering everything in some kind of blue field... Weird.
I was supposed to bust this gang who were performing some sort of ritual. Of course, I nabbed them and sent them off to jail as any hero would, but they left behind all their ingredients and markings and stuff. Now, I did the whole ouija board thing when I was a kid, so this sort of stuff didn't scare me, even when the invisible voice offered me more power, for a price.
When I asked what the price was, the voice said it was a very good offer, and power was on discount this week. He said I could bid for it, kind of like eBay. You know how it is with eBay--once you start, you are not letting yourself lose unless some snipey little brat gets the drop on you at the last moment.
Well, I won the bidding, but let's just say that I should have stopped at my immortal soul. On the upside, now I can shoot beams of energy from my eyes, which I've always wanted ever since I was a kid. Maybe if I'm lucky, when they come to claim my soul I can just burn off their legs with my awesome eye-beams and then run away really fast.
Look, I'm famous! An action figure of me, probably discarded by some youngster who was so overcome with emotion that, inspired by my actions, they ran off to become a hero themselves!
That's what I tell myself whenever I look at this photo, even though I know this is just me in repose, having been nearly killed by a group of pumicites. It's always hardest the first time you realize all the powers of healing and rescusitation are no good if you have to use them on yourself while you're laid out on the ground...
Anyway, that wraps it up for me. I think Ultrace is back in town tomorrow. Until next time, kids, stay in school and remember not to listen to any unseen voices offering you candy--or limitless power... |
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| Super Cyber Mega... Rooster? |
[Jul. 10th, 2005|11:21 pm] |
I received a most interesting mission today--to infiltrate an inner circle of the gangs known as the Freakshow. I spoke to Jeff the Snitch and he told me the Freaks had stolen a prototype camouflage outfit. I then asked, "Like this one?" and turned on my own suit. Effectively invisible, I pantsed the poor guy in front of the whole street.
That might not have been such a wise move. After he recovered from the humiliation, my informant notified me that in order to get inside, it was crucial that I could blend. He was prepared to give me a temporary power to assist. I was all aglow with excitement, until I saw exactly what I was being given.
Apparently, the crucial powered required to get within was the ability to wear something that even Ravage 2099 wouldn't be caught in. I began to suspect a cruel joke on my contact's part, but I couldn't even get any revenge, because I was too spiky to get close enough to touch without skewering him, and that never looks good to your other information sources.
I did some random surveying on the street. It was unanimous. Everyone thought I looked like a superhero who had been dropped on his head as a baby by the villain doctor doing the delivery. I tried to look for the positive sides.
On the one hand, I had great reception--I was able to pick up reruns of Iron Chef straight out of Japan. And I would never be wanting for a way to open bottles, cans, or even letters. And although they weren't exactly ergonomic wrist weights, my arms got a decent workout from the concrete-and-steel bands.
After approximately seven minutes and twelve seconds, however, I snapped, pulled out a shotgun and took to the skies to wreak vengeance on anyone I caught so much as committing conspiracy to jaywalk. I was a hero pushed too far, just like that guy in the clock tower at that university, except that he wasn't a hero and I didn't have the clock tower or the university. Or the rifle, really. My shotgun in fact shot beanbags. But from what I understand, they actually stung a bit for the babies and elderly. The fantasy helped alleviate my rage for just a bit.
One thing I discovered was that the junk mail armor suit was impervious to any of my attempts to use stealth camouflage. Making the best of a bad situation, I proceeded to force the soiling of many a bad guy's underpants as I paid them a visit in the guise of one of their fallen teammates. "It's meeeee, Booooooob..." I would cry, figuring that each villain group is going to have at least one guy named Bob who got killed. It's just a statistical probability. This worked great until I ran into the guy who cowered like a little girl, then said, "Wait, I'm Bob!" He then shot at me. Playtime was over.
Throughout the course of this, Jet Wolf laughed at my clunky-assedness and had a particular chuckle whenever I would snag on the walls or a wooden crate. Then fate itself would strike, as she too was foolish enough to approach Jeff the Snitch for contact info. Can you guess what mission she received and her "power?"
Most people can't tell Jet's pleased expression from her displeasure, so I'll help out a little: this is Jet Wolf looking not amused. This is not the face you want to meet up with in a dark alley--or broad daylight, for that matter--evildoers.
Eventually, she relented on her desire to kill the entire world, and I convinced her to devote her energies to a more worthy cause.
Paragon City Mecha Dance Party!!
...sadly, even though I look more the part in this outfit, I still can't do the robot to save my life. Maybe I can take Advanced Groove Thang during my next training session with Ms. Liberty. That's the ticket... |
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| City of costumes. |
[Jul. 8th, 2005|08:15 am] |
At a momentary lull during the battling of evil last night, a massive costume contest was held. The prize? 5 million influence. The call went out over multiple areas of Paragon City, and heroes from near and far flocked to participate. Many present believed it to be the largest of its kind ever:
The evaluation, measurement and announcements took a full day. Halfway through, the cry came that the Skulls and Hellions had teamed up and taken over several sections of the City, including city hall right behind us, and that the Rikti were en route to attack in full force. No one dared move. We all had to have that 5 million.
In the end, I lost. Horribly. The field was narrowed to 15 finalists from the massive grouping, and I was not among them. So be it. Another day, another brush with fame missed. But tomorrow is another... For now, I a city to try and reclaim. |
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| Random Pictures Du Jour. |
[Jul. 7th, 2005|08:12 pm] |
Steeling ourselves for the upcoming crack at Sister Psyche's task force, Jet Wolf and I have taken crimefighting in Paragon City a little slowly the past day or so. An assortment of highlights...
This huge, badass voodoo-looking mamajamma attacked us without warning in one of the apparently thousands of miles of caves under Paragon City. We were expecting something about half as tall as us. Needless to say, I'm glad I upgraded my utility belt to carry clean underwear the other day...
Jet and I went badge-hunting on the Valor Bridge. Squint hard and you can see that she's already at the top of the bridge. How'd she do that, you wonder? Note to engineers: if you want to avoid helping people commit suicide, don't put a handy pathway on the sidecables that leads to the top of your masterpiece...
If you ever wondered how much fun it is being the Boy in the Plastic Bubble, well, it's not. Sure, it's all fun and games when the villains can't get to you, as I found when someone projected this field around me without asking. But when you're trying to grab that brownie sundae and your bubble just keeps pushing it away? I got three words for you: Ice. Cream. Rage.
I was sent to rescue a kidnapped singer. When I found her, she was alone in an office, freaking out at no one at all. She was clearly hopped up on something and will be dead of an overdose within a month, no doubt. Me, bitter and cynical? We all have days like that sometimes... |
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| Unbreakable. |
[Jul. 6th, 2005|09:55 am] |
Jet Wolf and I continued our path to true superherodom! That says it all right there! But if you're the type who demands details, read on!
We invaded a minor headquarters of the Sky Raiders, a highly technological group bent on... Um, evil. Which makes them like everyone else, I guess, except they have jetpacks and laser guns. That's just plain cool. Plus, they have Sky Skiffs, floating ships that I can pummel with fireballs until they explode, dropping the evildoers aboard to a plummeting doom. As a hero, I shouldn't enjoy that so much, but, hey, we all have our shortcomings...
At first we tried stealth, and then negotiation when dealing with these foes. Here, Jet waves her claws and told the soldiers, "You don't need to see our identification."
Unfortunately, they had already been to see Episode III and were just as disenfranchised with Jedi as everyone else, so we had no choice but to resort to old-fashioned violence. Truthfully, we both like it better that way.
We followed the trail to a nearly-deserted island occupied by Circle of Thorns shamans. And guards. And spirits. And this phone.
How exactly does a phone like this get on a deserted island? With no visible power supply--and better yet, no target user--what's the business objective here? "Bob, we need you to go out to Circes Island and install a single phone. Yeah, yeah, I know, no one's there, but a plane might crash or something and how would they call for help? No, don't give me that 'cellphone' business again--I told you, that's just a fad, it'll never catch on."
I actually decided it was a good idea, because I was really in the mood for a pizza. I picked up the receiver and started to call Heroic Jim's--always double portions of pepperoni and guaranteed in two minutes or less due to their teleportation staff.
A trap! The Circle of Thorns were lying in wait and surrounded me with walls of rock and pounding earthquake waves!
"Ha ha ha! No hero can resist the thought of ordering pizza while on a deserted island!" one of them chuckled. This was incredibly lame, even to me. By sheer force of will and refusal to fall prey to such a ridiculous plot, I fought my way out of stone confinement and defeated them all handily.
Have you ever laughed so hard, you shot milk out of your nose? This Tsoo sorceror hit me so hard I shot fire out of my nose instead. It was only a couple minutes before the entire building was engulfed in a blaze, but whose fault is that? Blame the villain, not the hero.
As we continued to track this multi-layered plot, I came across a volcano. Curious, I flew up to the edge. Behold! A secret lair! I surveyed the scene carefully, so as not to give away my presence. Another hero flew up next to me and loudly asked what I was looking at. My cover blown, I grabbed the interloper, used him as a human shield against their laser blasts, then hurled him into the onwaiting soldiers as I sped away to safety. Had I gotten his name, I would have certainly spent at least ten minutes trying to find his family and letting them know what happened.
I did receive a badge for my discovery. And it was time to power up to the next level of achievement. With this level came the grand and glorious second title. The masses now refer to me as "Ultimate Unbreakable Ultrace." Except for those whom I arrest and destroy in the name of justice, who refer to me as "that jerk."
And with this great advancement comes the first of our badge checks! Truly, a mighty collection. Soon, they will be unable to fit upon my chest, and will have to dangle down my arms and maybe legs. They will glitter in the light and blind villains with the power of my virtue!
...or something. |
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| Polipi day! |
[Jul. 4th, 2005|07:54 am] |
Jet and I were out minding our own business (well, we were also minding the business of everyday villains as we thwarted their schemes), when a strange call went out to the heroes. Independence Port was being attacked by a giant Octopus! Stunned, we flew to the scene, my thoughts turning to the fact that this could only be the work of Aquaman, who, as you may not know, turned to a life of crime following the frustrations of his inadequacies with the Superfriends in the late 70s. You've seen the cartoons, and that was just what they were willing to put on TV.
We arrived to find that the word "giant" was rather appropriate. More than a dozen other heroes were already battling the mythically-proportioned monster, and we lent a hand.
Such was the stature of the beast that we could only focus on a single of its tentacles at time. When we managed to sever one, it would retreat with a loud roar, only to surface from the water again moments later.
The Human Spicer was on hand, and offered to team his flavorful abilities with my flaming justice to prepare a victory feast for later. Since there were rumors about his rather unsavory method of 'seasoning' food, there was a unanimous decline.
Just when things couldn't get any more weird, a strange ghost ship appeared and sailed by. Since the ship itself was willing to pass harmlessly through buildings and the octopus tentacles were not, we focused on the octopus and ignored the ship as best we could. It was a little strange, much like fighting a 200+ ton octopus, now that I think about it.
Bit by bit, we whittled it down to a single remaining tentacle. Although some heroes fell along the way, our spirits were kept mostly high by our ongoing victory--and by our cheerleading section, as seen in the bottom of this snapshot.
At long last, all the tentacles were gone and only the head remained. Every hero put forth their ultimate effort. Those who had fallen by the wayside were revived and joined the fight. I threw off my camouflage cloak to make full use of my powers without worry of endurance. If you look closely, it looks like you can even see Jet in this shot, showing off her incredible speed and leaping skills to jump right up and slash the fiend in its eye.
Eventually, the octopus--Lusca, as it is known--was driven away, to return possibly at a future time. But the heroes of Paragon City will be ready. And probably still full of fried octopus.
It was a little unnerving that Satan was so happy with our performance, however... |
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| Now you see me, now you, well, don't. |
[Jun. 30th, 2005|08:30 pm] |
Recently Jet and I achieved even greater levels of advancement within the pantheon of Paragon City heroes. Ms. Liberty kindly offered to train me on a new power. I took stealth camouflage, allowing me to become nearly invisible and indetectable. I then subtly asked her if she was going to be showering anytime soon and where. She was only too happy to demonstrate her Ultra Groin Kick 2000 on me.
Okay, so while the ulterior motives of my new power may not peter out, it's still undeniably cool.
Check it out, I'm like a ghost! Beware, evildoers, as I haunt you from the very skies above! But instead of just rearranging your furniture or making a steak slide across the counter and then break into maggots, I will set you aflame with justice! I burn with the power of ghost!
There are other advantages as well. Being so cloaked, I can get close enough to bad guys to witness infrequent events, like the rarely-seen Wayne and Garth impression put on by the Tsoo ink men...
...and the world's lamest tug of war contest. Only in Paragon City will you see a Sorceror and the average businessman fighting over what appears to be a fifty-pound emerald.
Mind you, no amount of cloaking will save you from the wrath of Jet Wolf. I'm still not sure what power she took upon levelling up, but when she appeared and hovered in the air like this, and let loose a roar while surrounded by energy, I just about lost control of myself and ran like a little girl. But not quite. It was like having Dark Phoenix pay a visit, only it being Jet Wolf instead.
Turns out, she was just having a bad day. I gave her a chocolate bar, which she ate before proceeding to beat the crap out of some bad guys. Combine those two elements together, and there's very little you can't therapeutically treat. |
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| Positively Synaptic. |
[Jun. 29th, 2005|07:43 am] |
We recently undertook our second task force, granted by the ultrahero Synapse. He was nowhere near as... Voyeuristic... As Positron was. But he also seemed a little less effectual, sending to Positron for help more than once during our trials.
We had to bring at least 2 other heroes to the party before Synapse would give us the time of day. Unfortunately, our previous teammate Whysper was saving a busload of nuns or something and not available. We sent out the call for two other people to assist us. Once we'd established ourselves as a group, we immediately let one of them go off and do his own thing. Synapse didn't seem to notice, so we laughed to ourselves under our breath.
Our remaining compatriot was the North Norse, a t-shirt-and-viking hat-wearing, axe-wielding tanker. Hey, I have a blond ponytail and red glasses and my civilian identity would probably be accused of driving a camaro, so who am I to rag on fashion?
These missions were all about the clockwork, who came in every shape, size and type available, including QuarterbackBot here, who insisted I step aside for his touchdown attempt. I sternly refused, proclaiming "No villainous machine makes a drive into the red zone while the fires of justice are burning!"
By the time I had finished saying that, he had already run past me and was assaulting Jet Wolf. Next time, I guess a simple "No" will have to suffice.
One of the favorite tricks of the clockwork is to put you to sleep. At least that's what I'm told I was doing. Sleeping. Encased in a crackling field of electricity. While twitching and writing in agony. I can't imagine this is very restful unless your sleep number is, say, 700 or so.
Regardless of their concept of resting, I will say now that the clockwork have the best surround sound systems. I really felt like I was right there. Mind you, I was right there, but that's not the point.
For a few brief moments during one mission, we were pitched into a negative dimension where all that could be seen was our energy emanations. While pretty to look at, it did make fighting our enemies a little trickier. Lesser heroes would have taken such an opportunity to cop a feel on their partner's firm and shapely rear end, but not me. No sir. Never.
Besides, in the dark, I could have wound up grabbing North Norse, which would have been awkward to say the least.
Remember when we laughed at Synapse not caring about us only having three people in our group? Funny thing, that...
The monster robot Babbage ambushed us after one of our missions. He was huge and terrifying! Jet Wolf could only claw at his kneecaps while North Norse swung at his shins. I alone could attack his upper body but he didn't seem to notice it so much as he giggled--I think it might have been tickling him.
Nevertheless, despite his seemingly endless supply of vitality and quick regeneration, we stood our ground valiantly, consuming our inspirations to heal and power up as he dished out his insane-powered robot attacks. We refused to give up until he went down.
Unfortunately, refusing to give up wasn't working, so, spent and half-defeated, and after reducing the massive contraption from 100% to approximately 92% functionality (think "Borg Ship") we decided to call a retreat. The others speed off across the ground while I flew straight up. Babbage disappeared altogether when we weren't looking. Was he even ever there at all? The bruises and cracked rib tells me that's a "Yes."
We finally invaded the lair of the Clockwork King, who had apparently just finished back-to-back viewings of The Blair Witch Project. Although his metal was a test for our mettle, he just couldn't stack up to Babbage, and we were able to take him down handily. Synapse awarded us experience, influence, an enhancement, and personally pinned a badge onto our chests.
I didn't expect him to jab the pin part through my costume and into my flesh, though. Maybe that's what happens when you laugh at the guy who sends you on a task force. Live and learn... |
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| Revenge of the Funk. |
[Jun. 26th, 2005|12:28 pm] |
Jet Wolf recently got an exposure to the Vahzilok infection that's going around. The same one that caused me to run slower, breathe more labored, and oh yes, emit a foul-smelling green gas. Can't forget that part.
She didn't take it quite as well as I did. The cries of, "Why? WHY?!" rang forth to the heavens. Three cities over, there was a librarian picking up the phone to ask us to keep it down.
Having been through this once before, and being extra awesome with our new costumes and levels, it didn't take us long to remedy. Oddly, that whole cure I helped them develop when I had this was nowhere to be found.
Less than an hour of odoriforous adventuring later, we had found a cure.
There was much rejoicing. And posturing, apparently. |
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