Andreah

January 20, 1920. Naples, Italy. Carmenza Melaku, an immigrant from Italian East Africa, takes over sole directorship of the Etoile-Naples Plague Relief Fund, having proven to the trustees that she met all the arbitrary and somewhat odd requirements that had been stipulated in the will of Maryanne Murcheson. A woman, aged 21-25, from a mixed European and African background, with education in the Classics, speaking English, French, Italian; possessing a certificate in accounting and finance, and oddly, who could name the phase of the Moon on the day interviewed- "Why, the Moon is just one quarter past full, tonight. Why do you ask?" August 3, 1921. Carmenza Melaku informally marries Matteo Covelli a minor boss in the Covelli crime family in Naples, and associate in the NFP, from which he is immediately ejected for his relations with an African woman. 1921-1934. The Covelli family cements social bonds with many of the Italian and Sicilian crime families. Carmenza notes with some distress the rising difficulty of 'business as usual' while the NFP's control on the nation solidifies, and then turns its ideology more and more into alignment with kindred parties in Germany. May 11, 1934. In a conflict with the NFP, Matteo Covelli is murdered, apparently by a dedicated NFP member who objected to his impure relationship with Carmenza. May-July, 1934. A wave of never to be solved murders occurs throughout the major cities. Macabre deaths with hearts cut from the chests of minor NFP members and allied crime family bosses. 1935-1940. The Covelli crime operation slowly liquidates into legitimate overseas trade groups, primarily partnered with U.S. firms. October 11, 1938. Carmenza Covelli applies for, and is granted refugee status to the United States. Given immigration laws at the time, strings must have been pulled. 1938-1947. The Covelli Cargo Concern, operating out of New York and Independence Port, provides logistical and transshipment services for war goods and industrial materials. Covelli Holdings diversifies financially into medicine, agriculture, insurance, and transportation. July 18, 1947. Carmenza Covelli passes away in her sleep. Control of her financial empire passes via her will to her most trusted aid -- Mr. Johnathan Merrick.

December, 1864. Jerimiah Murcheson, his family, including son Charles, and their slave/servant Maryanne, escape Savannah ahead of General Sherman's infamous march. Why he had brought the slave, he had no idea. It seemed automatic, at the time. He'd had to pay a great sum for each of their places on the ship, and in retrospect it was a folly to pay such for a slave. Why had he done it? He couldn't put his finger on it. But the girl had uses, and Charles had an eye for her. What a waste, there. The boy wouldn't amount to anything unless he found a proper girl. They had money, and the port at Etoile was nothing but a poor way-station across the Atlantic; had been ever since the eruption back in '33. But it was out of reach of the Yankees, and none here asked questions if one had gold. April, 1876. Murcheson Fire. The Murcheson family, all except for young Charles Murcheson and his body servant, Maryanne, die when their home catches fire during the night. Despite the full moon's light to aid the fire brigade, the fire rages unstoppable until the structure is exhausted. July 10, 1877. Charles and Maryanne Murcheson announce their marriage. Locals scandalized by the scion of the once wealthy family marrying across race to the dark-skinned former slave, but this was the Etoiles, and it was far from unheard of here. At least he was smitten with the girl, quite the beauty, and rumor had it she knew her nightwork well. October 15, 1879. Constables were called to a disturbance at the Murcheson home in Port Etoile. They find young Maryanne Murcheson bruised and suffering cuts to her arms, and her husband Charles dead on the floor, bled out. Maryanne was held overnight for questioning, but released after it became clear Charles had attempted and failed to kill her in her sleep. Mrs. Murcheson attested they had argued earlier in the day over her having not conceived since marriage. 1879-1919. Mrs. Maryanne Murcheson lives as a widow in Port Etoile. What remains of the Murcheson estate is carefully nurtured into a small fortune. Mrs. Murcheson becomes something of a socialite, but never into the higher tiers of polite society. Behind her back, there are whispers about her slave origins. December 22, 1919. Mrs. Maryanne Murcheson of Port Etoile, recorded dead from complications from Spanish Flu. Final disposition of the estate went to an Italian Flu Relief charity; but one suspected of being under the control of one of the so-called Families.

Midnight, September 13, 1862. In this new world, she instantly felt her connection to Tezcatlipoca fall to near nothing. So far, so very far away. His presence here was almost imperceptible. Her magic evaporated, the power of the dark leaving her, abandoning her. The touch of the Dark Plane of Shadows leaves her, and for the first time in years, her appearance is fully human again, dark brown skin, black hair, rounded ears, brown eyes. Naked, alone, nothing in hand but the obsidian knife she had held to cut her way into this world. A battlefield, how appropriate. The scent of blood still in the air, the suffering of the wounded still whispered on the wind. A waning half-Moon gave some small light; her own vision ruined by the lack of true sight. The scents of other things, fire, smoke; and odd things she did not recognize. Acrid, stinging. No matter. She could seize on this place, find fire and sacrifices, and through her own faith, rebuild the dark embrace of her Lord. The man was still alive, barely. His left leg had been mutilated beyond recognition. Something large had torn through the knee, and left a bloody stump. It would be a mercy to release him from this slow agony. His clothing was hard to undo, the fabric tight and fastened through slits with odd hard stones that glinted in the moonlight. Gold perhaps? She could not tell. But in time, she bared his chest, and the Moon still shone. His suffering amplified for a short time, perhaps he would count it a mercy from the afterlife. But he would not see it. His soul would burn with his heart. A connection. The Dark Lord lived here, or something enough like Him. She felt the hint of power, and found new resolve. She knew where she could hide, and find more sacrifices. South, towards more suffering, where in the chaos the smoke could rise, unhindered.

3959 B.C. to 1500 A.D. (Prime calendar). The Middle Empire conquers both northern and southern halves of the western continent. 1500. A.D. Ability to sail oceans in large boats re-developed. Physical technology slowly reaching heights of the old empire. Magical power still advancing. 1490 A.D. Eastern continents rediscovered. 1500 to 1800 A.D. Mass movement of excess imperial population begins. Indigenous eastern continental peoples have more advanced physical technologies; wheels, archery, bronze working; but little magic, and are easily overwhelmed and enslaved by Imperial forces led by Warrior Heroes. Forced labor builds Pyramids and temples throughout Prime Europe, Africa, and Asia; sacrificial fires are lit, burn for years, the sweet scent of the smoke being pleasing to the Gods. 1750 A.D. Rise of the House of Xtchtl. Warrior-Hero Xtchtltkhantoth returns from conquests in central Asia with great wealth and power to the ancestral estates in Yucatan; marries, fathers eleven children, and forges a clan dedicated to the worship of the Jaguar God of the Night, Tezcatlipoca. 1827 A.D. Xtchtlythrqrlii born into Clan Xtchtl, dedicated to the Lunar Aspect of the Night Sky. 1850 to 1862. A.D. Xtchtl-Hueomor Feud. Rival clans Xtchtl and Hueomor contest over commercial rights to slave-sacrifice imports from India. At first secretly, and eventually openly. 1852 A.D. Xtchtlythrqrlii Ordained into the Sept of the Gleaming Moon as a priestess of the second rank, to wield the dagger, to raise the heart, to burn the flesh, to send the smoke. 1860 to 1862. Clan war goes badly for Xtchtl; Hueomor worships Huitzilopochtli, and as the conflict comes into the open sun, the War God aspect empowers their magic. August to September, 1862. Clan Xtchtl suffers catastrophic defeats, surviving septs disperse, members desperately attempt to escape. Xtchtl prisoners are sacrificed in the Hueomor temples at high noon every day. September 13, 1862; Battle of Antietam, the deadliest single day in the U.S. Civil War. In the midnight aftermath of the bloody day, a portal opens, and releases a slim youthful figure of a woman, coal black skin, grey hair, entirely naked except for a bloody obsidian knife. The last surviving member of Clan Xtchtl finds true and final escape.

Timeline of Dimension Pi-34-Epsilon-K ca. 70,000 Years Before Present Era. Humanity emerges as a distinct modern species, spreads across the Eastern world. ca. 19,000 Years Before. Glaciers in retreat; Humanity spreading widely, technological advancement. Stone tools give way to multi-piece tools; widespread command of fire, wood hardening, shaping. Application of the lever, wedge, inclined plane in daily life. Fiber collection, gathering, weaving. Sea-worthy boats. Ca. 17,000 Y.B. Western continent settled. ca. 15,000 Y.B. The Old Gods take notice of Humanity, elevate disciples who proselytize, and strengthen from widespread mass worship. ca. 14,000 Y.B. The rise of the great civilizations of Mu and Atlantis between the West and East. ca. 14,000 to 12,000 Y.B. Technological peak of human advancement. Wheels, screws, pulleys. Mass megalithic construction, slavery, centralized despotic government, mass pantheonic religions, command of magical synthesis, kinetism, elementalism, materialism, mysticism. Physical technologies and techniques stagnate, physical tools cannot compete with command of magical forces. ca. 12,000 Y.B. The Great Cold occurs, parallel to Younger-Dryas event in Dimension Prime. Ice sheets re-advance. Slave-agriculture cannot feed mass populations. Wars breaks out between Atlantis and Mu. Atlantis sunk beneath the waves. Rocky islands of Mu off the Western continent scoured clean by incredible surges of waves. ca. 12,000 to 6,000 Y.B. Civilization absent from most of world. Refugees from both Mu and Atlantis settle in the Middle Lands of the Western Continent, enslave native populations, and slowly advance back to an empire, Mulantis, over the native populations based on magical power. Third Day of the Eleventh Moon, Four Hundred Eighth Year of The Ascent, equiv. to September 1, 3952 B.C. (Prime calendar). The Red Moonrise. Mass slave uprising throughout the Empire coordinated in secrecy. Mass slayings of Mulantian elites, followed by mass ritual sacrifices of their remaining populace over the next year. All descendants of Mu and Atlantis dead. Native peoples put forth their own pantheons in the places of high honor, fuel their own Gods' power with blood magic to cast down the Gods of Mu.

We watched it. Huge improvement over the theatrical version. Did not seem that long, it has good pace and drew me in. Story holds together much, MUCH, better -- I understood it, and I'm not a comics book person. The characters have more depth and feel more real. Some of the cheesy, stupid, crap's been removed. Imo, it's become a decently good movie, well worth the time to watch. YMMV.

And how about for total market fees paid? 10, 100, 1000, 10,000 and 100,000 Millions in fees paid!

Sure! 10, 100, 1000, 10000, and 100000.

How about a badge that you rent for one billion inf per week? If you can pre-pay up to a year's worth of it in advance?

I am against doing this, because of the shear havoc it would play on the current balance of the game. Good or bad, it has a balance, and we're used to it. Small changes here and there are good, wholesale destruction, not so much. But, if it were going to happen, I'd like to see buffs from all sources, self buffs, enhancement bonuses, IO set bonuses, everything, obey a root-sum-of-squares law. A complete replacement of ED and extension of the principle to everywhere. While we're at it, fix the combat system to use differentiable asymptotic probability functions for hit checks. And I'd like a pony for a travel power. Edit: Oh yeah, might be worth a look at modernizing the purple patch too.

Even if all they do is park the money on unused alts or in emails, so long as it it out of circulation, it helps keep inflation down. What we really need (although this would make some people scream) is a series of badges that are progressed through by giving Inf to an NPC (who deletes it) in large amounts. A badge for deleting 1 Billion, another for deleting 5 Billion, then 10 Billion, One Hundred Billion, and the top-tier badge of badges, the Trillion Influence/Infamy Destroyer. You would be able to earn progress on any of these badges in one billion inf increments. Badge completionists would hate this, of course, and I would not blame them.

As the song goes, "Don't tug on Superman's cape"

Update: I have found a builder, so thank you, everyone who saw and considered this. ❤️

((I love the concept and enjoyed both mission variants, and consider the villain version to be IC for my character.))

I'm looking for someone to build a base on the Everlasting server for my solo-supergroup. I am offering in-game Influence/Infamy for this service. We would discuss and agree on the amount before the work starts. This would be a modest sized, three-floor residence base, with no functionality. An experienced base-builder could do this fast; and someone competent, but still learning could do it as well and get good compensation. If you have the skills to do this, and would be willing to give it a shot, please message me on these forums or send me an in-game email to @Kherianda and we can work out the details. I check my in-game mail and forum messages daily. Thanks!

I can agree with that. They're writing for my character like that doesn't rise to a peeve for me though, but it is annoying. I have less trouble when they write what my senses tell me, or what involuntary reactions I might have, but it's also an indicator the writer was getting a bit lazy, or themselves hasn't ever been in a roleplay community before. Even as the GM, you just don't write lines or thoughts for other players' characters.

I'm just a person who doesn't do or like bars. I can pretend, but it's hard work and not fun. I have an easier time roleplaying and bantering on missions. I don't care if it slows us down, especially if everyone else doesn't care. 😄

There is one possible change, but it might not be the best for every mission. Have the hostage run to the door on their own. But, they stop if any mission or ambush mobs are within 50' of them -- i.e., they're re-captured. All the team has to do is make sure all the mobs on the way out are defeated, and the mission will complete in due course.

It was a bit tongue-in-cheek as a suggestion, but it's growing on me. If such a pool existed, I could see taking them. There may be ideas for more serious powers related to missions and a thread would be a good place to mull them over.

It occurs to me there's another option: A NEW POOL 😮 The "Mission Pool" It has powers in it to make doing missions more straightforward. Power: Hostage Lasso: use this on a hostage and it will follow you and only you through thick and thin until the mission completes or you are defeated or release it. Power: Hostage Carry: use this power to sling the hostage over your back. To carry to the door. You cannot use any offensive powers while it is active, but any and all movement powers including teleport. Power: Glowie Sensor: use this power to mark the nearest glowy on the map for the entire team. Power: Mob Sensor: Use this power to reveal the locations of all mobs within 150' as map triangles. One more power would round it out to five. Ideas? I have it! Power: The Bouncer: Use this power to bounce stuck teammates or mobs out of walls, ceiling, and unreachable positions.

I think it would be a Huge QoL improvement if hostages, at least in radio missions, could see through stealth. It's always a mess trying to figure out who has a stealth field, convincing them they have a stealth field, explaining why it's a bad thing, but only right now, and then teaching them how to turn the $#!$!% thing off until we get the hostage out.

Turns out, the floating truck is actually a cross-dimensional cellular repeater. The Wifi password is "Zero".

Well, I'm not an expert, but I think Burt Ward was about 20 when the first TV show was being made. Wasn't Robin in college between the Ka-Pows!?

When I go to the D, which isn't very often these days, I lurk old-school reading the newspaper.

I always thought that Hover was the combat variant of flight. It has the control and the defense bonus; so I kind of agree the new one is duplicative.