Scrapper Facts, a homage to badassery

[Chris24601]

Mr. Rogers was a Scrapper.

 

 

[Call Me Awesome]

Well, everyone knows Scrappers come in a few varieties.

 

<Excerpt from "Scrappers, the facts and the myths", copyright 2005 Paragon University Publishing>

 

The known varieties of the beast known as "Scrapper" are as follows:

 

Scrappus Solois, commonly known as the Solo Scrapper shuns contact with civilization like the plague.  This creature is seldom seen as he keeps to himself and is only occasionally seen when on his way to or from a mission door.  His habits are largely unknown to all as few ever encounter him... he is so fanatically anti social its a mystery among the zoological world how he manage to reproduce as Solois aggressively avoids all contact with others.  To date nobody has recored any intelligible communication with a Scrappus Solois.  The numbers of this beast are unknown; perhaps these creatures are partially responsible for the Bigfoot sightings.

 

Scrappus Feralis, commonly known as the Feral Scrapper generally doesn't play well with others and is quickly bored frequently leading to the Feral Scrapper wandering off on his own, perchance to find an AV to play with.  This creature is frequently confused with his cousin, Scrappus Solois, but the two are at best distantly related, perhaps a common ancestor hundreds of years ago.  Unlike Solois this variant is at least slightly social even if his communication is largely composed of grunts and snorts.  If you encounter one it's best to treat him like a slightly domesticated wolf; he probably won't attack the party but he's unlikely to stay with you for long.

 

Scrappus Domesticus, usually known as the Domesticated Scrapper is the rarest variety.  You'll almost always encounter Domesticus in the company of others and he's surprisingly supportive of those around him.  This Scrapper has actually mastered language and some are even capable of complex thought and planning.  When with a group Domesticus will usually stay with his companions and will even attempt to protect them from harm, although he can get distracted easily by shiny new mobs.  Even with the gregarious nature of Domesticus their numbers are low, something that mystifies anyone who studies them.  Strangely enough Domesticus also tends to have the longest lifespan, perhaps because he lacks the savage, mindless aggression of Solois and Feralis.  Even with that advantage it's rare to encounter one.

 

Rumors exist of other varieties but if they exist they have yet to be verified.  Many scholars deride the notion, equating them to the status of "Loch Ness Monsters" and the like, however the author considers their existence to be likely.

[Aracknight]

A Psalm of Scrapping (Pscrapping?)

 

RNJesus is my shepherd; I shall not want.

 

Thou keepest me from faceplanting in abandoned warehouses, and Thou leadeth me to the boss far beyond the mission entrance.

 

Thou +Regen my hit points and +Rec my stamina: and Thou leadeth me to the path of victory for Thy name's sake.

 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of debt, I will fear no AV, for Thou art with me; Thy +Res and Thy +Def, they comfort me.

 

Thou preparest a table before me of the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with SCRAPPERLOCK; and my cup runneth over.

 

Surely GMs and AVs shall fear me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the streets of Paragon City forever.

Edited February 20, 2020 by Aracknight

[archgemini24]

On 2/20/2020 at 12:28 AM, Call Me Awesome said:

Well, everyone knows Scrappers come in a few varieties.

 

<Excerpt from "Scrappers, the facts and the myths", copyright 2005 Paragon University Publishing>

 

The known varieties of the beast known as "Scrapper" are as follows:

 

Scrappus Solois, <text>

 

Scrappus Feralis, <text>

 

Scrappus Domesticus, <text>

 

Rumors exist of other varieties but if they exist they have yet to be verified.  Many scholars deride the notion, equating them to the status of "Loch Ness Monsters" and the like, however the author considers their existence to be likely.

 

I recognize this from a (potentially) different text: On the Care and Feeding of Your Pet Scrapper by CaptainAdept.

 

https://web.archive.org/web/20120904203644/http://boards.cityofheroes.com/showthread.php?t=113100

 

Other popular types mentioned in the forum were derived from the main three: Neighborhood (Domesticated when they feel like being spoiled, and Feral when they don't), and Evolved (which is more like Domesticated with one long-term partner, and the partner starts to take on Scrapper-like tendencies).

[Gauntlet_Prime]

On 1/27/2020 at 3:47 AM, Sir Myshkin said:

There Tyrant stood, a monolith to science and magic gone wrong. At his feet like flies swarmed newly formed Incarnates berating him and biting mercilessly at his shins, his entire form crackled with an overabundance of power sapped from the Well. He lifted a foot, mocking the heroes and villains alike who dared to impede him, and dropped it with a violent crushing force into the Earth which came with a spark of white lightning that seeped up through the rubble and rock and shot its viscous life-stealing energy out into the chaos. Some fled, some unable to make it out fell in the wake of such awesome might, but there in the center stood one lone figure, a silhouette in the madness of light and energy.

 

A Scrapper. His armor cracked, his flesh beneath burned and peeled, blood seeped into the air and vaporized, and then his flesh repaired itself, healed full, and then repeated the cycle. The lightning of Tyrant was trying to shear him apart by the atom, and he would have none of it. Beneath his helm, where a chunk fell free and burned into ash, his undeniable grin could be seen.

 

Tyrant looked down, perturbed at such insolence, he struck again, stronger, and with more power. More heroes fell, others flew madly across the battlefield attempting to rescue their fallen comrades. The Scrapper merely lifted a hand and slowly rolled his fingers down into a fist, a Vorpal Blade springing out from his forearm. For a moment everyone became aware of that one hero, knowingly, painfully standing there, but not falling, refusing to accept the destruction around him. For a brief second a calm hit the air in between heartbeats and lightning pulses, and everyone heard when the Scrapper said:

 

"My turn."

I just wanna say this makes me smile... every... single... time.  Ugh, just so good.

[Sir Myshkin]

The Controller stopped in the vestibule, shocked at the decor on the walls: bloody hand prints and splatters of blood, all signaling that whatever created them was being dragged back into the connecting room. Deep in the center of the darkness beyond he could see it, the ring of a Circle of Thorns portal with a pulsing glow of magic around its circumference. He held a hand up and looked back at the team, "We must proceed with caution. Infernal will be in the next room and there's a summoning portal at the other end, we don't know what could come through."

 

At the back of the hall stood a lone Scrapper, yawning and tapping the hilt of his blade. He hadn't said a word up to this point, through masses of Behemoth's and carnage and magic. He crooked his head and looked beyond, shrugged, and started walking in.

 

The Tanker, perturbed at being a follower jumped through the doorway first, into the fog and darkness.

 

"Stop!" shouted the Controller, but too late.

 

The room lit from torches on either side, and the remainder of the team blindly rushed in with the Tank, too far into the room, too close to Infernal. The Praetorian turned from the alter at the summoning portal, it could almost be said he might've been smiling under that helm of his. The portal burst to life, a magical field filling the void within the ring to allow a horde of fifty Behemoth's to step forward. The Tanker, his bellowing taunt echoing through the chamber, grabbed the attention of the oncoming demons but could not withstand the burst of their fury and flame.

 

The Tanker fell, and the team melted one by one. The Scrapper, in the center of it all now, stood nonchalant. Over his shoulder he looked back at the Controller enveloped in a vortex of force fields. The Controller dropped his personal field and sent out two bursts of energy that wrapped around the melee fighter, coating him in their protective flows before he turned and left the chamber, back to the vestibule. "Take care of this mess," he said, snapping his fingers just once as he walked away. At the echo of his fingers, a Force Bubble erupted out from his core and pushed into the room scooping up every single Behemoth and piling them mercilessly onto the Portal, suffocating Infernal in their mass.

 

The Scrapper grinned at the pile and drew his Katana, tilted the blade delicately through the air before jumping into the mass of demons and fire. One by one the bodies of the fallen team mates flickered into the ether, out beyond the chamber walls, leaving him alone with his own personal carnage. Occasionally a blast or a singe seeped between the protective layers, but his body easily regenerated the meager onslaught while his blade sang with each dismembered Behemoth.

 

Sitting with the collected team, awakens being passed around, the Controller stood at the entrance, his imps born of fire blockading the path, he made the team watch in awe as the Scrapper did what Scrappers do best. At the edge of his field, in anger and rage, Infernal continued to pound endlessly at the Force Bubble, more infuriated with the Controller than concerned with the Scrapper. When the last demon fell, the field was disengaged and the Scrapper then turned his blade into Infernal's back.

 

The demon lord halted, shock written in his stance, he turned ever so slowly to face what had just struck him, a hint of confusion, maybe fear in his eyes that the Scrapper could have even possibly survived.

 

The Scrapper tisked and waved a disappointed finger, "We're not done yet."

 

 

[Gauntlet_Prime]

6 hours ago, Sir Myshkin said:

"We're not done yet."

 

 

Yeeeees.... this is how I wanna wake up every day.  You're a scholar and a saint Myshkin.

[Tugzug]

On 2/2/2020 at 8:49 PM, Redlynne said:

Scrapper: "Not even DEBT can save you from me..."

I'm so happy that this comment was made. Especially since that iteration of Diablo came from what was basically the Scrapper of the first game.