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    1. nitemare shape 11 yrs ago
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skype: NMShape53

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I use Imagur myself.


(I am using an online translator for all foreign languages which appear here; obviously, not all translations will be correct but I hope to have captured the jist of what is said.)


I've got no issues with any of that
Yea, I am haveing a bit of a problem writeing my self in to the rp with out messing up some ones already ongoing story arc. Any ideas guy?


Yeah, you're probably better off doing a self contained arc to introduce the character, and then get involved with others. Definitely don't want to go around messing up other people's arcs in order to write yourself in.



Lyger stood out on the ledge of the Wright Building and looked out over the city as a torrential downpour washed over the city. There was something about the rain that he found soothing, almost therapeutic, in fact. It was almost as if the heavens had opened up and just washed away everything that was wrong in the city.

Almost.

Crown Ridge was a bad place. Nothing would ever be able to scrub all of that filth away. No amount of rain could cleanse it, and no amount of fighting would ever be able to set it right. He knew that, and it ate away at him. He found himself wondering if it was even worth it, the constant struggle, the fight for the city. Then he thought about all of the good people in Crown Ridge, the people who had no way out, the people who tried to live a good life for themselves and their families. Those people were the reason that he fought.

These were the people who were hurt by criminals and terrorists like the Hounds of Humanity. Although the Hounds claimed that their fight was with the meta humans and other non-normals, they had victimized anyone that got in their way, and summed it all up as collateral damage in not only a war of attrition, but a war for the very survival of the human race. However, it was all a farce. The Hounds of Humanity couldn’t care less about protecting the normal people of the world, they just needed an excuse for murder, and the rise in the meta human, as well as supernatural populations gave them just that. They hid behind bigotry in order to spread as much hate and fear as they could.

They were also well organized. They had laid the perfect trap for him, and he walked right into it. If it hadn’t have been for Icon’s interjection, he wouldn’t have walked away from that confrontation in one peace, and if he was to be completely honest with himself, he wouldn’t have walked away at all. Neither Icon nor he knew exactly what the Hounds’ endgame was, but both heroes knew that they needed to be there to make sure that it didn’t happen.

As Lyger contemplated everything that had happened, he suddenly realized that he wasn’t alone. He glanced around the rooftop, but didn’t see anyone. However, he knew that he wasn’t imagining it; he could hear someone slowly creeping up on him.

Then he saw it. Or rather, it was what he didn’t see. He looked on as he saw the puddles on the roof disturbed by invisible feet. He watched as the pounding rain battered against something, or someone who didn’t appear to be there.

“You might as well show yourself, I know you’re there.” Lyger said, his modulated voice sounding more intimidating than he had intended. After several beats, something began to take shape from nothingness. At first he didn’t know what he looked like, but soon the figure of a young woman who looked to be in her early to mid twenties began to appear before his eyes. She was a pretty girl, though with just a quick glance Lyger could tell that something was troubling her, and he had a pretty good idea of what that was.

“They came for you too, didn’t they?” Lyger said, more as a statement than a question.

“Yeah. They stormed the shop where I work. They just started shooting. They almost got me. They almost killed my customer. If I didn’t get us out of there, they would have.” She said with a mixture of fear and anger in her voice. “I saw you after I got her to safety. I recognized you from TV, I saw how you helped in the Pax Metahumana crisis.”

“So you followed me.” Lyger said, slightly embarrassed that he had slipped up and allowed himself to be tracked. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Chrissy, Chrissy Jones. I thought you could help.”

“I’m on it. You should lay low, don’t get yourself involved in this mess.” Lyger said.

“These monsters have to be stopped.”

“And they will be. It’s being worked on.” Lyger told her.

“I want to help, I have to do something.” She said.

“Stay out of it. Leave it to the people who handle these types of things.” Lyger insisted.

“I can’t promise that. Sometimes everyone has to take a stand.” She said with a touch of defiance in her tone.

“It’s your funeral.” Lyger said as he turned away from the young woman and fired a grapnel line into one of the nearby buildings before diving from the roof and vanishing into the night.
Hey @nitemare shape, I am interested in getting a banner for my guy. Is it doable? Thanks in advance


Yeah, I'll work on it tomorrow after work


Hexed was one of Crown Ridge’s premier occult shops. Though the proprietor of the shop, Lindsey Walsh, didn’t actually believe in the occult herself, she saw that there was a real opportunity to cash in on the superstitions of others. With the help of some cheap costume jewelry and a Gypsy costume that she purchased from a local theater group’s surplus warehouse, she brought to life her new alter ego, Madame Ravenfeather. From her shop, she sold wands and chalices, herbs and ready made spells. If it had an occult feel to it, and she felt that she could make money from it, it could be found within the walls of Hexed.

In the back corner of the shop, Chrissy Jones sat in her booth, which was concealed by a heavy royal purple curtain. It was from this booth that she gave psychic readings to those who were looking for answers to their problems from an alternative source. More often than not, they were not really looking to know what the future holds for them. Sometimes they were not even really looking for answers at all; instead they were looking to be told what they wanted to hear, to find comfort in a situation that they really have no control over.
Across from Chrissy sat Sally Simmons, a portly woman in her early fifties who simply radiated grief. As an empath, Chrissy felt the woman’s sadness like a punch in the gut. It was a profound sorrow that could only accompany a great loss. Using the woman’s grief as a guide, she had been able to confirm that it was the death of a loved one, and through her conversation with the woman she learned that the source of her sorrow was the death of her 22 year old daughter, who had passed away in a car accident on her way home from college. Sally’s daughter, Beth had been on her way home for summer break from Boston University when her car was t-boned in an intersection by a teenage girl who was sending a text message and ran a red light.

“I feel that Beth is at peace.” Chrissy said as she took Sally’s hands in hers. “Though she is gone from this plane, she is not gone. It may sound cliché, but she lives on in you. And though there will always be a void that you won’t ever be able to fill, it will get easier. Beth will always be with you, nothing, not even death will ever be able to change the bond that you have.” As she finished speaking, Chrissy closed her eyes and began to concentrate, not only was she able to feel people’s emotions, but she could , in a way, control them. She could take on the emotions of others and replace them with different emotions. In this case, she took some of Sally’s sorrow onto herself. Not all of the sadness, because she felt that it was unfair to rob the woman of the opportunity for closure. So instead she just took away some of the pain, and replaced it with a sense of serenity. It didn’t take away all the pain, or even most of it. However, it was enough to make it somewhat bearable, and Chrissy could immediately feel the change in the woman, and in herself as she took on the woman’s suffering as if it were her own. Although it was a temporary side effect of Chrissy’s powers, she felt a very real sense of loss, and truly understood what Sally had been suffering through.

Then with the sound of squealing tires and car doors slamming shut, Chrissy felt another set of emotions entirely:

Fear.

Hatred.

Anger.


Suddenly, the front door of Hexed exploded inward, sending glass and wood flying into the shop like shrapnel. Fortunately for Chrissy and her client, the heavy curtain protected them from the flying debris. Chrissy pulled back the curtain just enough to peak out into the store, and saw what looked like nearly a dozen men dressed in head to toe black body armor and wielding heavy firepower. It was upon seeing the men storming Hexed that she realized that the day that she dreaded had finally arrived.

The Hounds of Humanity had come for her.

“Stay down.” She whispered to Sally as she stepped out from behind the curtain, anger and fear gripping her as she went to face the men that had been terrorizing the meta human and supernatural communities for these last few days.

As she stepped from behind the curtain, the Hounds turned their attention to her, training their weapons on Chrissy. However, before they were able to pull the triggers, a large oak table that had a number of stones, gems and herbs displayed upon it suddenly lurched forward, colliding with several of the jackboots which send them crashing into the wall. With the remaining Hounds still distracted, Chrissy bound toward one of the men, who saw her just in time to turn his weapon back on her. However, she grabbed the muzzle of the gun and bent it back and upward, rendering it unusable. Then she hit the thug with a knife edged chop to the throat which brought the man to his knees.
Suddenly, the sounds of something falling caught Chrissy’s attention, as well as the attention of the Hounds. Sally Simmons, who had remained hidden behind the curtain couldn’t sit still any longer, and in a panic attempted to flee. However, in the process she had tripped and fallen into the curtain, pulling it down off of the curtain rod that kept it in place, bringing the wooden rod along with the curtain, and herself crashing to the floor with a thud. The Hounds turned their weapons on her and opened fire, just as Chrissy raced over to where she sat on the floor and dived at her. As she made contact with Sally, the older woman felt a sudden sense of vertigo as she and Chrissy simply vanished just as the bullets struck the patch of floor that Sally had just occupied seconds before.

When Sally opened her eyes, she wasn’t able to suppress the urge to vomit, and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the sidewalk where she now found herself kneeling. She looked around, and realized that she was familiar with the area in which she now found herself, but was baffled as to how she had wound up on Atlantic Avenue, as “The Strip” as it was also know was more than a dozen blocks away. Then Sally began to look around for Chrissy, who was nowhere to be found. So she just sat there for a moment, trying to gather her bearings, and as she did so, she could have sworn that she could hear the sound of footsteps, clearly belonging to a woman running away.




Icon and Lyger stood atop Crown Ridge’s tallest building, Brady Tower. Only minutes ago, the two heroes fought off a contingent of Hounds of Humanity thugs who had ambushed Lyger, and very well may have killed him had it not been for Icon’s timely interjection. Sadly, if Icon hadn’t arrived in time, Lyger wouldn’t have been the first to fall victim to the Hounds. There had been reports of such attacks all across the country, not only against a number of super powered heroes and villains alike, but against civilians as well. Most recently, Icon had heard of the attack on Chris Arthur and a new speedster out in Pacific Point, as well as the attack that left Arthur’s home a smoldering crater.

The Hounds were stepping up their attacks, becoming more brazen in their assaults, and it was clear that the terrorists did not care who got hurt in the crossfire. They needed to be stopped, and fast.

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” Lyger said bluntly.

“Obviously you’re aware of what’s been going on. These attacks, they’re getting worse.” Icon told him.

“Tell me something I don’t know. We need to stop these Hounds before they can kill anyone else.” Lyger said.

“That’s exactly why I’m here. We worked together pretty well during the Pax crisis, and I think that if we work together again, we can stop the Hounds from doing any more damage.”

“I usually work alone.” Lyger told him.

“I know, but I think we’re going to need you on this.”

Lyger thought about what Icon was saying for a moment and realized that he was right. However, if they wanted to end the Hounds’ threat quickly, they’d need more than just the two of them.

“We’ll need the others, Arthur and the rest of them. When you get them, call me.” Lyger told Icon.

“How will I find you?” Icon asked.

“You didn’t have much trouble tonight.” Lyger quipped before reaching into a compartment in his belt and pulled out a small device. “But you can use this, it’ll connect you with the com system in my mask. You’ll be able to reach me through that.”

Icon took the device and nodded as he turned to take to the skies. However, Lyger called out to him again.

“And Icon…thanks.” He said as Icon leaped into the sky and rocketed away back toward Lost Haven.
Huginn and Muninn

Speech Color: Huginn: Silver and Muninn:Gold
Character Alignment: Heroes.
Identity: Taylor and Jordan Stevenson
Character Personality:
Uniform/costume:

As vigilantes, the Stevenson twins need to protect their identity at all times, so they wear concealing bodysuits and balaclavas while in action. Their bodysuits are essentially the pic above, minus the yellow stripes, and patches.

Origin Info/Details:

The Stevenson Twins have always been oddly in sync, for their entire lives. One would think they knew what the other was thinking, just by looking at each other. Which is actually the case, the twins share a mental link that lets them communicate instantaneously, anywhere in the world, in addition to other psychic abilities. Born to relatively normal parents, they grew up normally, keeping their powers secret, which wasn't hard. They never could quite figure out how they got them, however. Gamma rays? A mutagen? They're actually descendants of aliens? It's actually one of Taylor's favorite pastimes to speculate on where they received their powers from, however, which annoys his sister, Jordan, to no end.

Hero Type:
Huginn(Psychic/Speedster), Muninn (Psychic/Acrobat)

Power Level:
Street/City Level (Separated), World Level (Together)

Powers:
Huginn- Huginn is able to communicate with his twin, Muninn at any time, anywhere, unless he is somehow incapacitated. He is also able to use telekinesis to push himself to speeds upwards of 100 MPH, fly, and carry his sister with him as he does so.

Muninn- She is able to communicate with her twin perfectly, unless incapacitated, as well as use telekinesis to enhance her physical agility. She is also capable of performing large-scale telekinesis with objects the size and weight of skyscrapers, (although it goes without saying that doing so is extremely exhausting for her,) but cannot lift her own body in true flight due to a mental block. Also, although it isn't a power, she is a contortionist, able to bend her body in weird ways.

(Both of these descriptions are when the twins are within a mile of each other, they get weaker the farther away from each other they are.)

Height:
Taylor- 6'5"
Jordan- 5'3"

Weight:
Taylor- 240 lb.
Jordan- 114 lb.

Strength Level:
Taylor- Trained Human, the level of a professional boxer.
Jordan- (Physical,) Average Human, (Mental,) 100+ Tons easily.

Speed/Reaction Timing Level:
Taylor- 100+ MPH
Jordan- Normal Human

Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort:
Taylor- 3 Hours, (he had to get used to running at inhuman speeds for great lengths on end.)
Jordan- (Physical) Average Human, (Mental) 5 Hours.

Agility:
Taylor- 2X Normal Human, he's got to be capable of not smashing into obstacles as he moves at high speeds.
Jordan- 10X Normal Human

Intelligence:
Taylor- Average
Jordan- Above Average

Fighting Skill:
Taylor- Trained
Jordan- Trained

Resources:

Average

Weaknesses:
Both are perfectly vulnerable to mundane weaponry, if they get hit by it, and can be incapacitated by sufficiently powerful psychic scramblers, or just an overwhelming mind, even though they are more resilient to mind invasion than normal. Two heads are better than one, after all.

Also, if their psychic connection is ever severed, even temporarily, they'd be more vulnerable to psychic assault, emotional manipulation, and general suggestion, in their desperation to find the other.

Supporting Characters:

Albert Stevenson- Their father, a charming older man who is content to live off his pension checks and work in a woodshop for the rest of his days.
Joanna Stevenson- Their mother, a workaholic who can't stand sitting still for one second, and who works as a Board Member for Alternate Acquisitions, LLC.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: DA.
Sample Post:


Approved




Although it had only been minutes since Jordan called up to Midas’ office to tell him that they had acquired a specimen while in the sewers outside of the underground laboratories that reside in the sublevels of the Midas Industries facility, it seemed as if much more time had passed. It was times like this when Midas cursed the speed of his private elevator, which allowed him easy access from his office directly to the sublevels of Midas Industries. Although the elevator itself surpassed the speed of traditional elevators, for a man like Midas, it was never fast enough. Especially if the screenshot that Jordan had sent him from his body cam was to be believed. It seemed that in an era of “Gods and Monsters,” Mr. Jordan may have delivered the latter directly to his doorstep.

It was certainly an interesting prospect. Should he be able to convince this being to join his cause, he could be on the verge of accomplishing something truly great.

As the elevator came to  a stop in the sublevels of the Midas Industries industrial complex, his heart began to raise with anticipation, and when the doors finally opened and he laid eyes on the mysterious being that had allowed Jordan and his men to bring her to him, all expectations were exceeded. The woman, who stood just a few inches under seven feet tall, with skin almost as black as pitch was a sight to behold. Though she had agreed to follow his men, something about the way that she held herself suggested that she was powerful indeed. Midas just hoped that he would be able to harness that power for himself and his cause.

“I must say, when Mr. Jordan called me to let me know that he had discovered you down below, I was not prepared for you.” Midas said with the smile of a snake oil salesman. “I’m Richard Midas, and I’d like to welcome you to Lost Haven.”

Raeviir regarded the man with a mixture of amusement, interest, and barely-concealed contempt. This was just another human - just as ordinary a meatsack as everyone else around here. He wasn’t armed, however - was he a fool or arrogant? Even the men who had found her were armed, and they had paled before her strength, and now this… this man dared to stand before her, weaponless? Raeviir didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ”For a man named Midas, and the esteem with which these little bugs held you in… I’m disappointed. Where’s the gold? Where’s the opulence? All I see in front of me is a short little human male. You’re all males. All of you, no doubt holding your women in bondage and slavery as you always are.” Raeviir scoffed, her emerald eyes glowing brightly with emotion; disgust, boredom, disappointment. ”I can guarantee you, human, that none of your kind are ever ready… especially for me. Thanks for your welcome. I suppose I should at least extend you the courtesy of my name… Raeviir El’Anadar, Pathfinder and Kinslayer.”

Behind her, one of the armed men, no doubt tired of Raeviir’s attitude towards them all, and especially Midas, went to raise his weapon. In less than a heartbeat, Raeviir whirled around, drawing her scimitar and activating the runes, flooding the area with a burst of faerzress energy, and igniting the blade’s acidic venom. ”Drop the fucking weapon, you idiot. I guarantee you I’ll remove your head from your pathetic little shoulders quicker than you can even raise that to fire at me. I’ve had children tougher than you try to kill me and fail.” Raeviir’s face was contorted into a vicious snarl, her teeth bared and her voice dripping with hatred. ”I said, DROP IT! Raeviir pushed the blade in contact with the man’s helmet, where the caustic fluids coating the blade began to corrode the helmet’s metal, green flame licking at the man’s head.

Humans. Always the fucking same.

Midas had been at the ready with a witty retort, however, as he watched the acid from the strange woman’s blade eat its way through the helmet, and if it hadn’t been for the quick reaction of the man, who ripped his helmet off and flung it away from himself, the acid very well could have eaten away into his flesh,  he felt all urges for witticism fall to the wayside. Midas now knew that this woman, whoever...whatever she was, was not someone to be taken lightly. She was a woman of incredible skill, if not incredible power, and it would be in his best interest to not only avoid the woman’s ire, but somehow get her to join forces with him.

“I assure you, my lady, we most certainly are not all the same.” Midas said cooly, doing his best to conceal the very real horror that he was feeling, not only due to this woman’s show of aggression, but the thought that he could suffer a similar fate as his man’s helmet.. “Now, if you’d follow me, I would love to show you around.” Midas said as he motioned for her to follow.

”You can assure me all you want, human- Midas, it doesn’t make a damned bit of difference. I’ve had three times your lifetime of experience. You’re just lucky I’ve nobody else to turn to… or at least, I haven’t had chance to see anyone else before your men picked me up in those damned sewers.” Raeviir snarled and lowered her sword, the man she’d threatened having thrown away both his weapon and his helmet, which was beginning to corrode at an alarming rate, eventually igniting in a burst of green flames. Raeviir scoffed and turned back to Midas.
”Fine. I suppose I’ll see whatever it is you have to show me… and you won’t need your guards. Two reasons...” Raeviir’s snarl turned into a smirk of self-satisfaction, bordering on outright arrogance. ”Number one, it’s not polite to show a lady around whilst shoving a gun in her back. And two… In the time it would take them to raise their weapons in the first place, you’d be a headless corpse, twitching on the floor.”

Nevertheless, Raeviir sheathed Suffering. ”Off we go. Any traps and you all die screaming. I swear it by the Queen.”

“There will be no need for that.” Midas said as he ordered his men to fall back. “Right this way my dear, I have so much to show you.” He said as if he were trying to regain control of the situation before he led her into the heart of the complex.

Raeviir’s menacing tone did not budge. She looked at Midas, staring deep into his eyes, almost right through him. She knew she was at the advantage here, and she knew she would eke every single moment of power over these humans. And she’d enjoy it. ”I will be the judge of that. On both counts.”

“Indeed, I’m sure.” Midas said in a tone that was meant to placate the bizarre woman. He had already gotten off on the wrong foot with Racheli, and that was a mistake that he attempting to avoid with this creature. As he approached the doorway into the facility, he paused momentarily and motioned for her to follow. “This way, Lady Raeviir, I have someone that I am looking forward to having make your acquaintance.”
So, if you aren't in Discord right now (and why wouldn't you be?), I really like the awards idea. We'll do 2 Awards sessions this season, one for the Season 2 Anniversary, then at the end of the season, we'll do an official Season 2 Awards that will encompass the full season.

Also, forgive my absence as of late, I've had a nasty flu.
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