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  1. You just described a majority of the players. Believe it or not, most players don't use the Market. They certainly don't want to 'leverage' it. Most players don't like crafting either. Many people just want to play the game. As I said, we can already store everything else. Why not store one rack full of recipes?
  2. Still a PITA for Trick or Treat Leagues, however
  3. One of the issues we frequently see in the various League is that the lvl 50 team lead will DC and then the rest of their team drops in level, often resulting in a team wipe. My suggestion would be simple: Any character in a team other than the Lead would be arranged by level from top to bottom. If a new character joins, the reshuffling is automatic. The order of people on the team is irrelevant except in the case of the team lead. This system would enable the lead to at least TRY to have one additional 50 in each team without having to sort through the whole League to find them. I would additionally suggest that the various team and league leads have an easier way to see the levels of the various member in their teams or Leagues but that may be an entirely different topic.
  4. I remember some of the NPCs saying things when I run by. Some of them are about me (thanks, etc) and some of them are about in-game things like new powersets etc
  5. Major MENACE is my own creation, as is his villainous networks also called MENACE (Mean, Evil, Nasty And Cruel to Everyone). He's inspired by Dr Evil of Inspector Gadget fame as well as a bad guy that I used in my Champions PnP game years ago. Major Menace was a brilliant and charismatic leader with an inept and comical side. All of his plans had to be rediculously over the top and all would fail even if the heroes never did anything.
  6. Tony V was my own creation. When I'm at a loss for a name I fall back on my fave which is making the real name with the same initials or sounding in some way like the metahuman name. Total Violence therefore became Tony Vittorio.
  7. Yeah because I don't work Sundays and sleep is for Mortals lol!
  8. http://m.memegenerator.net/instance/23077869
  9. Since you asked for more stuff to read,,, Plans for Global Domination Part 17 By Major MENACE My clever yet dastardly plan continues. Today my Alpha Squad and I infiltrated a drug deal between the Trolls and the Skulls. Hostages had been taken by the Skulls and needed to be rescued. Typical. Once I have conquered the world such petty crimes shall be eradicated. But I digress. The mission itself was fairly straightforward until the strongarm of the drug den, a burly character named Backbreaker, showed up. My team and I had our hands full but we managed to defeat him, free the hostages and escape. Note to self: Commend the engineering team for the design of the new M-47 Acid Mortar. The device is lightweight, deploys quickly and functions perfectly in the field. Offer to pay the lead engineer double and send him and his family on a vacation. He has pictures of tropical islands all over his cubicle…that should spark ideas. Some of the men have questioned my decision to register as a Hero formally and move operations to Paragon City. I reminded them that the last time I tried to take over the world from the Rogue Isles there was constant interruption from Recluse and his underlings. Here, disguised as heroes of the people, we can operate more freely and with full support of the public. What does it matter if the enemies we defeat also happen to be the same enemies everyone else is fighting? The enemy of my enemy and all of that. Special Note: Many of the local heroes have come to appreciate my special talents with regards to leadership and tactical planning. I was asked to assist a small team last week in their efforts to defeat the local Clockwork colony before they reanimated their ‘Clockwork King’ again. Apparently, they had failed in their previous attempt and they put out a hue and cry on the local Hero Help Line. My team and I responded and by the end of the mission the Clockwork were defeated. Praise for my Assault and Tactics skills, as well as the accuracy of my team, were credited with the overall success of the mission. Little do they know that as I aid them in their petty struggles, I am secretly collecting data on all of them. Some are beneath my notice, battling the same enemies over and over to collect heaps of reward money. However, many have proven to be able enough fodder for my war machine and some, a very few, have proven themselves worthy to be included in my Leadership of Evil when the time comes. Note to Self: Research trademark re: Leadership of Evil. As another day draws to a close, I sit back and think about the best things in life; A genius-level intellect, loyal minions to lead, an evil scheme of conquest, a good brandy and a cat. Otto seems content with my plan and that’s all the reassurance I need.
  10. Join a writing group if you haven't already. Writers Unite on Facebook is a good start. There are also numerous others. Let someone impartial read your stuff and fairly judge it. Being critical of yourself is good for a writer but as you said, we're our own worst critics...
  11. We don't have an 'official' location for fanfic as far as I know (someone PLEASE let me know if I'm wrong here!). As a writer, I really enjoy writing about my characters, their backgrounds and other 'behind the scenes' stories. So until we have an 'official' spot, this is THE home for CoH fan fiction! I'll kick off with some of my own work. This one originates from my very first CoH character, a SS/Invul Brute named Total Violence. Note: Flagged for adult language. Don't let your kids read this unless you like having messed up kids... Interview with a Monster By Rebecca Wyatt My name is Rebecca Wyatt and for the last seven years I’ve worked as a criminal psychologist for the Paragon Department of Corrections. I’ve interviewed thousands of inmates from all walks of life in an attempt to discover if there is any link, some verifiable common thread between the most violent offenders. Since January of this year I’ve been working mainly at the Ziggursky facility, affectionately known as the Zig. Only the most violent, the most dangerous are kept here. I didn’t feel that my research would be complete until I’d explored every corner of the criminal mind. So it was that on that fateful day, April 21st, after vainly searching for a parking place in the over-crowded lot, that I was late to my first interview of the day. I walked briskly down the hall and through the security doors into the small interview room. There were two guards armed with shock sticks standing in the corners and an armored figure sitting at what we called The Desk. It was a single block of cast steel, molded with a knee hole so the inmate can sit. His hands were held to the top of the desk by heavy manacles and though I couldn’t see them I knew his feet were similarly bound. Between the shackles sat a large cup of coffee with a straw sticking out of it. The inmate himself was…impressive. His armored form was easily twice as wide as me and half again as tall. I was looking him in the eye though I was standing and he was sitting. The armored plates that covered his body looked worn and dented, as if they’d been poorly repaired. His eyes were slits in the metal mask but I could see his real eyes inside…and some of the terrible scar tissue surrounding them. I paused a moment, took a breath, then sat down across from him. “Inmate #4466882, a.k.a. Total Violence,” I read calmly from his file. “For the last seven years you’ve been held here at the Zigg but you’ve had a series of other incarcerations at other facilities…all for three months or less.” “No cable,” he said curtly. “I beg your pardon?” His reply had taken me by surprise. “No cable at those other joints,” he repeated. “That’s why I broke out.” “Cable television makes you happy?” “I like cartoons,” he smirked, at least it sounded like one. “Helps me keep my mind off of…things.” “The cable here at the Zig must be good to keep you here for seven years,” I commented as I read through the file. “You’ve had a few…incidents…but your behavior has been better than at any time in your past.” “If I behave, I get perks,” he said after leaning forward slowly and taking a sip of his coffee. “No fights for a month, more t.v. time. Three months, they let me out in the yard for an hour every day. At six months I get to use the weight room but I ain’t made it that long yet.” “Tell me about your time with Doctor Fischer,” I prompted him. I didn’t want to be too intrusive too quickly but I felt the interview was going well so far. “He was a quack,” he snorted. “Wanted to make a name for himself by cracking Public Enemy Number Six. Hours of talk, talk, talk. Then he took away my meds…that’s what set me off.” “I don’t see any notes about altering your medication…” I commented as I flipped through the pages. “That’s because he was a lying fucker!” he snapped. “He took me off stuff, put me on new stuff, all to get me to talk. If the Prison Board had found out he woulda been kicked out…so he kept it quiet. Six months of Hell for me, just to get me to spill my name.” “It says here that he was having a session with you on the night he died,” I prompted gently. “You mean he was dopin’ me up with his latest formula on the night I killed him? Yeah…pretty much. Before the drugs just made me loopy so I didn’t mind too much but this time…it burned. It burned like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life. I’ve been shot, stabbed, blown up…my right arm wound up in the gullet of some demon or another. Both my legs are metal because the real ones were broken by a fight with a giant. I never felt pain like that before. I broke out of the restraints and tore his fucking head off before the guards got in and put me under.” “So, you only killed Fischer because he hurt you,” I said flatly. “It wasn’t some mad-dog attack with no rhyme or reason.” “What difference does it make?” he asked before leaning forward for another long pull on his coffee. “My goal is to find out why people kill. If you were as crazy as everyone says, you wouldn’t have needed a reason to kill Fischer…you would have killed him and not cared.” He sighed, a great, heavy sigh, like some weight had been lifted from him. I was still looking at the file when he spoke again. “Vittorio,” he said softly, “Anthony Vittorio. My friends called me Tony V. I was a mook working for the Family when…all of this happened.” “Thank you, Mr. Vittorio,” I said gratefully. “Is there anyone you want me to contact for you? Do you have any family or friends on the outside you’d like to communicate with?” “Nah…I’ll be seeing them soon enough,” he replied casually. “Do you expect them to visit you in here?” “No need…I’m getting out today.” The steel of the manacles screamed in protest as he wrenched his hands free. The guards started to move but even restrained as he was, he was far too dangerous. The guard on the right died instantly as a fist penetrated his rib cage. The other hand snatched up the other guard and held him easily off the floor. “Keys!” he demanded and the guard produced his keyring. “Unlock me!” The guard was dropped to the floor where he crawled to the leg restraints and unlocked them. During the entire scene I sat riveted in my chair…too frightened to move. Tony Vittorio, otherwise known as Total Violence, stood up from the steel block that served as a chair and flexed his arms and legs. “Now…to get down to business,” he snarled as he turned towards the quivering guard. “Wait! I’m with you!” the guard begged. “I was the one who juiced your coffee to get you out!” “One problem with that,” Tony said as he picked up the guard and held him to his chest with one arm. “You make really shitty coffee!” With his other arm Tony bent the guard backwards slowly until he was nearly double. The screams didn’t quite drown out the sounds of his spine cracking. “Please don’t hurt me,” I said simply. All my training, all my years of experience, and that was all I could think of to say. “Don’t worry…you’re not on the menu today,” he replied as he dropped the guard’s still-twitching body. “You’ve got an important job…as a hostage. With you in front of me they won’t dare shoot. Once I get clear I’ll let you go.” “Thank you…” I stammered but he cut me off harshly. “Don’t make it sound like I’m doin’ you any favors. If I smell one thing goin’ wrong on the way out, I’ll tear off your arm and use it as a back-scratcher. If we get out, I want you to give the warden and the rest of the fuckheads at the Home Office a message: Kill me. Kill me and be done with it. Next time you got me in your sights don’t fap about trying to arrest me or reform me…pull the fucking trigger.” “You…want to die?” I was stunned. I’d dealt with suicides before but none of them had been so…passionate about it. “Look at me!” he shouted as he removed his mask. His face was a patchwork of scars and burns. “I’m in pain all the time! The meds take the edge off, but only just. I’m on the broken edge of a bottle every minute of every day! You wanna know why I kill? Because for just a little while it makes the pain stop…that’s why! I kill because it’s the only thing that makes me happy…the only thing I’m good for! So, we’re gonna leave and you’re gonna tell whoever you have to tell that I’m bug-nuts crazy. Tell ‘em I’m beyond hope. Tell ‘em whatever you gotta to make them understand.” “I’ll tell them,” I said quietly, “and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t understand why…” “I don’t need your pity,” he barked as he unlocked the door and pushed me into the hall. The sirens were already going off, indicating an escape. “Pity got me locked up for the last seven years, barely able to keep my head on straight. Now I’m out…free…and I’m gonna make people understand.” “Understand what?” I asked as he led me down the hall with a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I’m bad, lady…evil…rotten to the core,” he said bitterly. “You don’t cage evil…you don’t reform it. You find it and you kill it…period. You make ‘em understand, or I’ll go on a spree that’ll make Captain Mako look like a boy scout hunting badges.” His plan worked, after a fashion. While all the guards were rushing to the perimeter of the prison, he led me deeper inside. We got to the Solitary wing and he coerced one of the guards to open one of the cells. I gasped as a tall figure stooped to duck under the door and then rose to his full height. He was taller than Tony, though whipcord thin, and with a head like a cross between a fish and a lizard. He looked down at me and smiled and I saw about a hundred narrow dagger-like teeth. “How nice,” he said in a raspy voice, “you brought me a snack!” “Hand off!” Tony said harshly. “She’s our ticket out.” “I can get us out now,” the tall figure said as he craned his head towards the cell. “The runes in there kept me trapped but out here…I can take us anywhere.” “Remember what I said, lady,” Tony said with a squeeze of my arm. “Next time, no arrest…no surrender. You put us down or we’ll just keep killing.” The thin one laid his hand on Tony’s shoulder, muttered a few words I couldn’t understand and suddenly they were both gone. I sat down hard on the floor, right there in the hallway, and waited for the guards to show up. I told them the whole thing, just like he said, and demanded to speak with the warden. I have to make them understand that if they don’t put him down, Total Violence will live up to his name.
  12. Now I want to run all-Widow or Spider teams because with all their Leadership buffs they should be great and the RP opportunities would be wonderful!
  13. I frequently see calls for team members for RP-friendly teams. Such teams advertise as RP because they're not going to dash from mission to mission and there will be at least some in-character chat. Participants should have at least a little bit filled in for their Background because sure enough others will read them.
  14. Thank you for starting this later in the evening! I work every Saturday until 9 p.m. Central and often game afterward. This time frame is perfect for me...thanks!
  15. Writing is ALWAYS interesting to me because it's harder to do than many people will admit. What do you write?
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