I was going through my picture files, looking for a new desktop background, and I realized I have a LOT of lolcat pictures. I went on a binge a few weeks back. Humor is good. So, here's a few, just because.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
VEAT Preview Movie, Take II
The site that was hosting the video decided afterwards that it doesn't host game trailers, so it was only up for a few hours. So, not my fault!
But, there's the link, for now:
But, there's the link, for now:
Thursday, April 17, 2008
VEAT Preview Movie
If you didn't see it on the official site yet, or want to watch it over and over and over, here it is:
Villain Epic Archetypes from Massively on Vimeo.
Villain Epic Archetypes from Massively on Vimeo.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Fifty
Yep, Fyre-Hex hit 50 Sunday, along with Will and Havoc. Red-side Fyre is a fire/fire/Soul Mastery Dominator, if anyone's keeping track. She's also my first villain to hit 50, even though I started playing CoV during one of the later waves of beta. My first villain, Angel Noir, hit the then-level cap of 40 about a month after the game went live. Almost 2 years ago. I just don't like red-side as much. I don't like stalkers. A lot. Brutes are fine. Until a team wants you to tank. Masterminds are... okay, I guess. Corruptors might be okay, other than my fire/thermal. I've already covered my issues there. And teams just seem worse villain side. More clueless/irritating/illiterate/sparse. The graphics villain side are more intense for my not-high-end system, and even then, it's so dreary villain-side, who cares anyway? Between all of that, I just prefer hero side.
And yet, I will be making a VEAT shortly after they go live. Probably in beta, once closed beta ends.
I do like the story arcs villain-side. There seem to be more unique maps. The arcs themselves seem to be more interesting, and better written. Maybe because they're still new to me? Well, partly. But, they just seem more entertaining.
We leveled doing the Television's arc. The Television is a level 45-50 unlockable contact. You need the Mistress/Master of the Airwaves exploration badge to get access to the Television. The arc is crazy. We were doing it by overlooking the real reason for most of the missions, as none of our characters are likely to become slaves to the Television, but the arc was too entertaining to pass up.
Other than that, Vagz and I have been working on our Dual Blade/Willpower scrappers mostly. Thanks to blaster-Fyre's more bankable work, I was able to buy a 40 million influence (plus salvage and crafting costs, which was approximately 2.5 million influence more) Numina's +Regen/+Recovery IO for Jez, which just makes me love Willpower all the more. Dual Blades does seem less accurate than some other sets. But, it's possible that its like Dark Melee. Dark Melee frustrates me to no end. *Whiff*whiff*whiff*. It seems like its' nothing but misses. I have, however, been told and read repeatedly that it's just the perception. You don't actually miss any more than any other power set with standard accuracy. Supposedly. I'm not sure I believe it, though. No matter how many times I'm told otherwise.
RP-wise, Jez and BC (Blood Crucible, who's still known to me as $target, and to Jez as "B") are still pretty interesting. BC has a secret, which is driving me crazy because I can't begin to guess. Well... I have begun. The problem is, I haven't stopped. I have a theory list a mile long, and not much to prove or disprove any of them. Jez... well, she knows that something's up. But she's used to being on a need-to-know basis with things and people, so it's not bothering her nearly as much. She also, of course, has issues of her own. Of course. I have a bit of problem keeping her balanced. As a former/current "super-spy" (not the " marks, to imply the hint of irony and speculation), she would be more than capable of imparting only what she wanted. If she didn't want to appear hurt, tired, confused, angry, happy, sad, whatever, she wouldn't. If she didn't want to slip into vernacular American phrases, she wouldn't. But, that's boring. And very much not conducive to duo-RPing with another player. So, she slips. Not because the character herself would, but because I make her to move things along. Not as much over the past two weeks or so, since she's begun to put distance between herself and her "partner," true, but she's starting to (slowly) wear down again.
In other news... 4 free slots for me when i12 comes out. Yay! I'll probably buy the 5-pack, too, just to have breathing room. Who knows, maybe the extra slots will lure me over to red-side more often.
And yet, I will be making a VEAT shortly after they go live. Probably in beta, once closed beta ends.
I do like the story arcs villain-side. There seem to be more unique maps. The arcs themselves seem to be more interesting, and better written. Maybe because they're still new to me? Well, partly. But, they just seem more entertaining.
We leveled doing the Television's arc. The Television is a level 45-50 unlockable contact. You need the Mistress/Master of the Airwaves exploration badge to get access to the Television. The arc is crazy. We were doing it by overlooking the real reason for most of the missions, as none of our characters are likely to become slaves to the Television, but the arc was too entertaining to pass up.
Other than that, Vagz and I have been working on our Dual Blade/Willpower scrappers mostly. Thanks to blaster-Fyre's more bankable work, I was able to buy a 40 million influence (plus salvage and crafting costs, which was approximately 2.5 million influence more) Numina's +Regen/+Recovery IO for Jez, which just makes me love Willpower all the more. Dual Blades does seem less accurate than some other sets. But, it's possible that its like Dark Melee. Dark Melee frustrates me to no end. *Whiff*whiff*whiff*. It seems like its' nothing but misses. I have, however, been told and read repeatedly that it's just the perception. You don't actually miss any more than any other power set with standard accuracy. Supposedly. I'm not sure I believe it, though. No matter how many times I'm told otherwise.
RP-wise, Jez and BC (Blood Crucible, who's still known to me as $target, and to Jez as "B") are still pretty interesting. BC has a secret, which is driving me crazy because I can't begin to guess. Well... I have begun. The problem is, I haven't stopped. I have a theory list a mile long, and not much to prove or disprove any of them. Jez... well, she knows that something's up. But she's used to being on a need-to-know basis with things and people, so it's not bothering her nearly as much. She also, of course, has issues of her own. Of course. I have a bit of problem keeping her balanced. As a former/current "super-spy" (not the " marks, to imply the hint of irony and speculation), she would be more than capable of imparting only what she wanted. If she didn't want to appear hurt, tired, confused, angry, happy, sad, whatever, she wouldn't. If she didn't want to slip into vernacular American phrases, she wouldn't. But, that's boring. And very much not conducive to duo-RPing with another player. So, she slips. Not because the character herself would, but because I make her to move things along. Not as much over the past two weeks or so, since she's begun to put distance between herself and her "partner," true, but she's starting to (slowly) wear down again.
In other news... 4 free slots for me when i12 comes out. Yay! I'll probably buy the 5-pack, too, just to have breathing room. Who knows, maybe the extra slots will lure me over to red-side more often.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Exit, Part 2
“We’re locked in here… and there’s a bomb,” the voice said from the other side of the door. A high-pitched but quiet female voice said something to the man, and he shushed her quietly.
Jez and Rick looked at each other before Jez spoke up. “Get to the far side of the room, against this wall.”
“Who are you?” The man asked.
“Now!” Jez barked. They heard feet shuffling and footsteps. Rick lifted and aimed his gun at the door, while Jez turned and kept watch down both directions of the hall. The muffled gunshot still rung through the hall, as did the crash as Rick kicked the door in.
There were three people inside. The speaker was a tall blond man in a navy blue suit. His tie was loose and his hair was sticking up in an unintentional way. He had blood on his face and his shirt. He’d been punched or hit with something, and the way his nose was bent, it was probably broken. Standing behind him was an older woman whose hair was mostly grey. She looked rumpled but healthy. She seemed calm, but was probably dazed. One hand was clenched on reading glasses that dangled from a chain around her neck. The other person was huddled against the man’s side, trembling with silent sobs. She turned her face towards Jez and Rick and her beautiful face was wet with tears. She had long straight, shiny black hair and huge glistening brown eyes. Her plain white blouse was damp around the collar. Jez was shocked at first by how young she looked, and after a minute realized the woman was only a couple of years younger than herself. The young woman had a wide-eyed innocence, even as terrified as she was, that Jez hadn’t had for a long time, if ever, that made her look even younger than her mid-twenties years.
The room had no shortage of the emergency lights, making it easy to see the large bomb on the table in the center of the room. Jez studied it quickly from where she stood. It was the size of a large shoe box, something that a pair of boots would come in. The size was surprising, and she briefly wondered how it had been smuggled up here. More importantly, though, was the timer on the top. Thirteen minutes, thirty-two seconds and counting.
Rick took her arm with his free hand pushed her a step toward the door. “Take them out. I’ll get the bomb.” He slid his gun into the holster at his back and stepped closer to the table.
Jez looked at the bomb again. Bombs were generally simple things. The more complicated they became, the more chance of something going wrong. This thing, though, was a monster. There were entirely too many wires, and at least two places that could conceivably be a radio transmitter at first glance. And the timer continued ticking down. Rick followed her gaze and met her eyes briefly.
In that split second, with the sixth sense of communication that made them as good at their jobs that they were, that made them legends in a small, select community, they both knew it was hopeless. It would be impossible to untangle the Gordian knot of wires correctly in thirteen minutes. They also knew that if they failed, people would likely be hurt or possibly killed when this second, larger bomb went off.
Jez stopped and held her ground. She looked from the table, back to Rick and shook her head. “No. You go. I got this,” she nodded to the bomb. Unspoken was the knowledge that Jez was cooler under pressure, and more familiar with explosive devices, both the building of and the defusing of bombs. She was much more likely to be successful, upping the odds from impossible to unlikely.
Rick clearly wanted to argue. He grabbed her arm again and began to shove her toward the door, but stopped and glanced at the table, at the timer on the bomb. He looked back at her and nodded grimly. He reached to his back and pulled his gun again, not yet releasing her arm.
Jez turned her gun in her hand and offered it to Rick, butt first. Rick had lost his back-up gun when they’d been climbing over debris downstairs. He always carried two, while Jez relied on her blades for back-up, three throwing knifes and a fighting dagger in each boot.
Rick shook his head. “You might need it on your way out.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Be careful.”
He flashed her a quick, blinding grin before stepping away. Jez took a step toward the table and Rick motioned the three others out the door ahead of him. Jez moved toward the table but glanced back to see Rick coming back to her side. He grabbed her by the back of the neck hard enough to bruise and kissed her quickly, leaning his forehead against hers ever so briefly. “See you outside,” he said before hurrying back out the door and herding the three others down the hall.
Jez heard the footsteps retreating and took a deep breath. Twelve minutes. She risked a few seconds to retrieve a penlight from her boot and began tracing wires. The sirens and even the buzzing of the emergency lights set her teeth on edge. She took another breath and made a concentrated effort to block out the sounds. She heard a crash once, but made herself ignore it and started humming under her breath, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to concentrate.
Distantly, she heard gunshots, but left them mentally unremarked, concentrating on wires and trying not to count down along with the timer.
She held the penlight between her teeth and wiped sweat and blood off her hands onto her pants a few times. The pants were already ruined anyway, she thought to herself. She bent once to retrieve one of the small throwing knives from her boot, thinking she’d found the correct place to cut a wire. Checking again, she saw she was wrong. Almost fatally wrong.
Finally, she was almost sure she had it. In any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have done anything with the level of uncertainty she still had. Without looking at the timer, she knew she didn’t have time for second guessing. She carefully separated the two suspected wires and with a strong, sure stroke, cut them both at once. The air seemed to rush out of the room in the fraction of a second before the timer stopped. One minute and twenty-four seconds left. Jez let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and allowed herself to move, watching the bomb for a moment before stepping away from it. She hadn’t known how tense she was until she reached back to draw her gun and move to the door.
One of the emergency lights had burned out in hall, casting more shadows in this corner than there had been before. She stopped and listened, but heard nothing but sirens and the buzz of the lights. Quickly, but warily, she edged down the hall to the stairway door she and Rick had come through earlier.
From a distance, the things on the floor steps from the doorway looked to be shapeless lumps in the dim light. It didn’t take many more steps until it was obvious the lumps were people.
The older woman had been hit in the leg. Someone was a bad shot or had been jostled. The second shot had taken her in the right side of the head. She’d fallen on her back, and her unmarked eye stared at the ceiling. By the holes in his back, the blonde man had been shot at least twice in the chest. He’d fallen forward, though, and the holes in his back were large enough to put a fist through. The young woman had been shot once in her forehead. The small hole left only a small trickle of blood that trailed between her eyes and across her cheek. She’d fallen on her back, her head turned just ever so slightly, still hiding what must be a terrific mess at the back of her head. The blonde man had fallen across her legs, one of his hands had fallen so it almost touched her hand.
Closer to where Jez stood was Rick. His gun had fallen a few feet closer to the door. He, too, lay on his back and his head was turned. He stared in the direction where Jez stood. He’d been shot in his right arm. Probably when he’d lost the gun, Jez thought. He’d also been shot twice in the chest and once in the stomach. The red stains on his shirt almost blended together. The stains drew Jez’s attention. That much blood would never come out of anything in Rick’s perfect, dry-clean-only wardrobe. He’d have to throw it out.
The hallway grew darker…
…and the next thing she knew, she was outside, standing near two of the embassy’s security team and an ambulance.
“Ms. Lorezno? Angela,” one of the security team was staring at her questioningly and talking.
Jez stared back blankly before realizing he was talking to her. She’d never blanked on a code name before, not even during her very first assignment, and this name was one of her more commonly used. She puzzled out the cause slow enough that the second man looked up from his notepad and his conversation into his radio.
“You’re certain the bomb is deactivated?” The first prompted again.
She nodded slowly. She’d finished with the bomb, she was certain. And then she’d found the bodies. And then she’d remembered to come outside to inform the crews that the bomb was no longer a threat and they could go in after it and finish evacuating the building safely. She’d found the team leader and informed him of the bomb’s location and where to find the bodies. She knew she’d spoken clearly and concisely. One of the medics had been brought over while she talked, and cleaned and bandaged her hand quickly and thoroughly, but with little concern or interest. There were more seriously injured people.
She looked that security team leader who was still questioning her. He was staring at her with a mixture of impatience and frustration. She understood his position. She didn’t care.
She nodded once again; a quick, sure nod. “Good luck,” she told him. And walked away.
Jez and Rick looked at each other before Jez spoke up. “Get to the far side of the room, against this wall.”
“Who are you?” The man asked.
“Now!” Jez barked. They heard feet shuffling and footsteps. Rick lifted and aimed his gun at the door, while Jez turned and kept watch down both directions of the hall. The muffled gunshot still rung through the hall, as did the crash as Rick kicked the door in.
There were three people inside. The speaker was a tall blond man in a navy blue suit. His tie was loose and his hair was sticking up in an unintentional way. He had blood on his face and his shirt. He’d been punched or hit with something, and the way his nose was bent, it was probably broken. Standing behind him was an older woman whose hair was mostly grey. She looked rumpled but healthy. She seemed calm, but was probably dazed. One hand was clenched on reading glasses that dangled from a chain around her neck. The other person was huddled against the man’s side, trembling with silent sobs. She turned her face towards Jez and Rick and her beautiful face was wet with tears. She had long straight, shiny black hair and huge glistening brown eyes. Her plain white blouse was damp around the collar. Jez was shocked at first by how young she looked, and after a minute realized the woman was only a couple of years younger than herself. The young woman had a wide-eyed innocence, even as terrified as she was, that Jez hadn’t had for a long time, if ever, that made her look even younger than her mid-twenties years.
The room had no shortage of the emergency lights, making it easy to see the large bomb on the table in the center of the room. Jez studied it quickly from where she stood. It was the size of a large shoe box, something that a pair of boots would come in. The size was surprising, and she briefly wondered how it had been smuggled up here. More importantly, though, was the timer on the top. Thirteen minutes, thirty-two seconds and counting.
Rick took her arm with his free hand pushed her a step toward the door. “Take them out. I’ll get the bomb.” He slid his gun into the holster at his back and stepped closer to the table.
Jez looked at the bomb again. Bombs were generally simple things. The more complicated they became, the more chance of something going wrong. This thing, though, was a monster. There were entirely too many wires, and at least two places that could conceivably be a radio transmitter at first glance. And the timer continued ticking down. Rick followed her gaze and met her eyes briefly.
In that split second, with the sixth sense of communication that made them as good at their jobs that they were, that made them legends in a small, select community, they both knew it was hopeless. It would be impossible to untangle the Gordian knot of wires correctly in thirteen minutes. They also knew that if they failed, people would likely be hurt or possibly killed when this second, larger bomb went off.
Jez stopped and held her ground. She looked from the table, back to Rick and shook her head. “No. You go. I got this,” she nodded to the bomb. Unspoken was the knowledge that Jez was cooler under pressure, and more familiar with explosive devices, both the building of and the defusing of bombs. She was much more likely to be successful, upping the odds from impossible to unlikely.
Rick clearly wanted to argue. He grabbed her arm again and began to shove her toward the door, but stopped and glanced at the table, at the timer on the bomb. He looked back at her and nodded grimly. He reached to his back and pulled his gun again, not yet releasing her arm.
Jez turned her gun in her hand and offered it to Rick, butt first. Rick had lost his back-up gun when they’d been climbing over debris downstairs. He always carried two, while Jez relied on her blades for back-up, three throwing knifes and a fighting dagger in each boot.
Rick shook his head. “You might need it on your way out.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Be careful.”
He flashed her a quick, blinding grin before stepping away. Jez took a step toward the table and Rick motioned the three others out the door ahead of him. Jez moved toward the table but glanced back to see Rick coming back to her side. He grabbed her by the back of the neck hard enough to bruise and kissed her quickly, leaning his forehead against hers ever so briefly. “See you outside,” he said before hurrying back out the door and herding the three others down the hall.
Jez heard the footsteps retreating and took a deep breath. Twelve minutes. She risked a few seconds to retrieve a penlight from her boot and began tracing wires. The sirens and even the buzzing of the emergency lights set her teeth on edge. She took another breath and made a concentrated effort to block out the sounds. She heard a crash once, but made herself ignore it and started humming under her breath, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to concentrate.
Distantly, she heard gunshots, but left them mentally unremarked, concentrating on wires and trying not to count down along with the timer.
She held the penlight between her teeth and wiped sweat and blood off her hands onto her pants a few times. The pants were already ruined anyway, she thought to herself. She bent once to retrieve one of the small throwing knives from her boot, thinking she’d found the correct place to cut a wire. Checking again, she saw she was wrong. Almost fatally wrong.
Finally, she was almost sure she had it. In any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have done anything with the level of uncertainty she still had. Without looking at the timer, she knew she didn’t have time for second guessing. She carefully separated the two suspected wires and with a strong, sure stroke, cut them both at once. The air seemed to rush out of the room in the fraction of a second before the timer stopped. One minute and twenty-four seconds left. Jez let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and allowed herself to move, watching the bomb for a moment before stepping away from it. She hadn’t known how tense she was until she reached back to draw her gun and move to the door.
One of the emergency lights had burned out in hall, casting more shadows in this corner than there had been before. She stopped and listened, but heard nothing but sirens and the buzz of the lights. Quickly, but warily, she edged down the hall to the stairway door she and Rick had come through earlier.
From a distance, the things on the floor steps from the doorway looked to be shapeless lumps in the dim light. It didn’t take many more steps until it was obvious the lumps were people.
The older woman had been hit in the leg. Someone was a bad shot or had been jostled. The second shot had taken her in the right side of the head. She’d fallen on her back, and her unmarked eye stared at the ceiling. By the holes in his back, the blonde man had been shot at least twice in the chest. He’d fallen forward, though, and the holes in his back were large enough to put a fist through. The young woman had been shot once in her forehead. The small hole left only a small trickle of blood that trailed between her eyes and across her cheek. She’d fallen on her back, her head turned just ever so slightly, still hiding what must be a terrific mess at the back of her head. The blonde man had fallen across her legs, one of his hands had fallen so it almost touched her hand.
Closer to where Jez stood was Rick. His gun had fallen a few feet closer to the door. He, too, lay on his back and his head was turned. He stared in the direction where Jez stood. He’d been shot in his right arm. Probably when he’d lost the gun, Jez thought. He’d also been shot twice in the chest and once in the stomach. The red stains on his shirt almost blended together. The stains drew Jez’s attention. That much blood would never come out of anything in Rick’s perfect, dry-clean-only wardrobe. He’d have to throw it out.
The hallway grew darker…
…and the next thing she knew, she was outside, standing near two of the embassy’s security team and an ambulance.
“Ms. Lorezno? Angela,” one of the security team was staring at her questioningly and talking.
Jez stared back blankly before realizing he was talking to her. She’d never blanked on a code name before, not even during her very first assignment, and this name was one of her more commonly used. She puzzled out the cause slow enough that the second man looked up from his notepad and his conversation into his radio.
“You’re certain the bomb is deactivated?” The first prompted again.
She nodded slowly. She’d finished with the bomb, she was certain. And then she’d found the bodies. And then she’d remembered to come outside to inform the crews that the bomb was no longer a threat and they could go in after it and finish evacuating the building safely. She’d found the team leader and informed him of the bomb’s location and where to find the bodies. She knew she’d spoken clearly and concisely. One of the medics had been brought over while she talked, and cleaned and bandaged her hand quickly and thoroughly, but with little concern or interest. There were more seriously injured people.
She looked that security team leader who was still questioning her. He was staring at her with a mixture of impatience and frustration. She understood his position. She didn’t care.
She nodded once again; a quick, sure nod. “Good luck,” she told him. And walked away.
Exit, Part 1
I had this in my head for a few weeks. It was written completely and perfectly last week at about 4am one night. In my head. It got a bit battered in the translation to text. The events occurred several months before Jez came to Paragon. I did break it into two parts to make it a bit less "wall'o'text," since it got a little long.
Somehow, everything had gone wrong for everyone involved. The flooded offices from the pipes bursting that was supposed to keep people away instead caused many to work late to catch up on missed work. The bombs that were supposed to go off at the same time had gotten desynched, causing one to explode too soon, while the rebels were still inside the embassy. Jez and her partner Rick were only supposed to be passing through, flying back to the United States in the morning.
Less than a quarter of the building had been directly affected by the first bomb. Sirens sounded from everywhere; the security systems from inside and the local emergency vehicles outside. Outside, rescue crews streamed between ambulances and equipment to the building itself. Most of the embassy employees had gotten out, except those trapped in the ruined section of the building. The rebels still roamed through the building, no longer bothering to hide. The local police were assisting the embassy’s security, searching for the rebels and for employees who needed help getting out.
Jez and Rick knew the approximate location of the second bomb. While people still inside streamed down the staircases, Jez and Rick climbed up. The search for the second bomb had mostly been concentrated on the lower floors. However, the purpose of the bombs was more to cause panic than complete destruction, so they were placed at opposite ends of the building to cover as much ground as possible. T his second bomb was on the fifth of six floors, in an employee lounge. Jez and Rick knew this because they’d had the luck to find one of the rebels searching an office. He had been adamant about not telling them anything at all. For awhile.
“Son of a bitch,” Jez swore as the tear in her pants grew from catching on the doorway. They’d spent a few minutes directly after the first blast in the affected area of the building, helping until the rescue crews arrived. The building wasn’t in danger of immediate collapse, but the damage done had been extensive. Several people had been killed, and more injured. While climbing over debris, Jez had ripped the left leg of her pants in two places, her sleeve, and cut her hand.
Rick, as always, was immaculate, and Jez glared at him as he grinned at her briefly as they both scanned the hallway. He gave her a small nudge as they turned in perfect unison and went down the left section of the hall. She made an all but unnoticeable sidestep, intending to step on his foot, but he dodged easily and laughed under his breath as they continued without breaking stride.
They checked each room quickly. From training and practice, each knew the other’s movements and intentions as well as they knew their own. The electricity had gone out with the blast, but the hall and the rooms were lit by the flashing lights and streetlights from outside, as well as intermittent emergency lights inside. The first bomb had been placed to take out the embassy’s emergency generator. The second bomb had been placed to take out the director’s office, and most of the other of the most important offices. The director, of course, had not come back after the offices were flooded.
Inside a room with bookshelves lining the walls and two large tables in the center, they heard footsteps in the hall. Silently, they glanced at each other and went to the door and eased out. The footsteps faded away the way they had come. One person, not hurrying. They both knew it had to be one of the rebels. Jez tensed and took a step, but Rick touched her arm, stopping her.
“Bomb,” he said quietly. Jez sighed and frowned, but nodded.
Two rooms later, they came to a locked door in a corner. Jez reached for the lock picks in her boot, while Rick rattled the knob. They both stopped when they heard movement in the room.
“Hello? Is someone out there?” A hesitant male voice called from inside.
Jez and Rick waited.
“We’re locked in here… and there’s a bomb."
Somehow, everything had gone wrong for everyone involved. The flooded offices from the pipes bursting that was supposed to keep people away instead caused many to work late to catch up on missed work. The bombs that were supposed to go off at the same time had gotten desynched, causing one to explode too soon, while the rebels were still inside the embassy. Jez and her partner Rick were only supposed to be passing through, flying back to the United States in the morning.
Less than a quarter of the building had been directly affected by the first bomb. Sirens sounded from everywhere; the security systems from inside and the local emergency vehicles outside. Outside, rescue crews streamed between ambulances and equipment to the building itself. Most of the embassy employees had gotten out, except those trapped in the ruined section of the building. The rebels still roamed through the building, no longer bothering to hide. The local police were assisting the embassy’s security, searching for the rebels and for employees who needed help getting out.
Jez and Rick knew the approximate location of the second bomb. While people still inside streamed down the staircases, Jez and Rick climbed up. The search for the second bomb had mostly been concentrated on the lower floors. However, the purpose of the bombs was more to cause panic than complete destruction, so they were placed at opposite ends of the building to cover as much ground as possible. T his second bomb was on the fifth of six floors, in an employee lounge. Jez and Rick knew this because they’d had the luck to find one of the rebels searching an office. He had been adamant about not telling them anything at all. For awhile.
“Son of a bitch,” Jez swore as the tear in her pants grew from catching on the doorway. They’d spent a few minutes directly after the first blast in the affected area of the building, helping until the rescue crews arrived. The building wasn’t in danger of immediate collapse, but the damage done had been extensive. Several people had been killed, and more injured. While climbing over debris, Jez had ripped the left leg of her pants in two places, her sleeve, and cut her hand.
Rick, as always, was immaculate, and Jez glared at him as he grinned at her briefly as they both scanned the hallway. He gave her a small nudge as they turned in perfect unison and went down the left section of the hall. She made an all but unnoticeable sidestep, intending to step on his foot, but he dodged easily and laughed under his breath as they continued without breaking stride.
They checked each room quickly. From training and practice, each knew the other’s movements and intentions as well as they knew their own. The electricity had gone out with the blast, but the hall and the rooms were lit by the flashing lights and streetlights from outside, as well as intermittent emergency lights inside. The first bomb had been placed to take out the embassy’s emergency generator. The second bomb had been placed to take out the director’s office, and most of the other of the most important offices. The director, of course, had not come back after the offices were flooded.
Inside a room with bookshelves lining the walls and two large tables in the center, they heard footsteps in the hall. Silently, they glanced at each other and went to the door and eased out. The footsteps faded away the way they had come. One person, not hurrying. They both knew it had to be one of the rebels. Jez tensed and took a step, but Rick touched her arm, stopping her.
“Bomb,” he said quietly. Jez sighed and frowned, but nodded.
Two rooms later, they came to a locked door in a corner. Jez reached for the lock picks in her boot, while Rick rattled the knob. They both stopped when they heard movement in the room.
“Hello? Is someone out there?” A hesitant male voice called from inside.
Jez and Rick waited.
“We’re locked in here… and there’s a bomb."
Friday, April 4, 2008
Fyre's Enhancements, Etc, as of April 3, 2008
April Fool's jokes aside, I really did respec Fyre. And, by the way, the respec from April Fool's happened on Test Server 01. Not even the real Test Server. There's no way I would even attempt to do something like that on Live. I was nervous even doing it on the Test Server, to be honest. I meant to run at least one radio mission with that build, though, but I'm sure it will be painful, even for fun on a copy that will be erased, and I haven't done it yet.
This is what the real respec looks like. I picked up Flares since they're actually useful with the new animation and with Defiance 2.0 letting you use them while mezzed. I'm in the process of filling in an Apocalypse set, but so far I've only been able to afford/find two pieces. Each piece goes for between 20-40million, plus several pieces of rare salvage for as much as six million each, plus the crafting fee.
I also picked up Aim. Why didn't I have it before? ... um.... I dunno. Too many other things I wanted, I guess. I kept Bonfire only because I couldn't find anything else I wanted instead. I could have picked up Hasten, I guess, but with the set bonus recharges, I just don't feel like I really need it. Hasten on my /regen gets her Dull Pain, etc., up faster, and I love it on my doms to get Domination back faster, and on my DB to keep up with the combos, but on a blaster... meh. I'm sure there are lots of other opinions out there, however.
You can see most of the Secondary Powers have less slots, and practically no set pieces or even IOs. That's because I play Fyre mostly as a ranged blaster, not a blapper. I plan to fill those in with partial set bonuses, but they're just not as important for me. I can use the slots and the influence better elsewhere at the moment.
For numbers, you can look here, as I've already posted them. But you can add 16% to Regeneration from the Apocalypse set. One more piece will add 3% to Health. Fyre has 1522.51 Hit Points at the moment, and the Blaster Hit Point Cap is 1606.4, so I'm getting close.
This is what the real respec looks like. I picked up Flares since they're actually useful with the new animation and with Defiance 2.0 letting you use them while mezzed. I'm in the process of filling in an Apocalypse set, but so far I've only been able to afford/find two pieces. Each piece goes for between 20-40million, plus several pieces of rare salvage for as much as six million each, plus the crafting fee.
I also picked up Aim. Why didn't I have it before? ... um.... I dunno. Too many other things I wanted, I guess. I kept Bonfire only because I couldn't find anything else I wanted instead. I could have picked up Hasten, I guess, but with the set bonus recharges, I just don't feel like I really need it. Hasten on my /regen gets her Dull Pain, etc., up faster, and I love it on my doms to get Domination back faster, and on my DB to keep up with the combos, but on a blaster... meh. I'm sure there are lots of other opinions out there, however.
You can see most of the Secondary Powers have less slots, and practically no set pieces or even IOs. That's because I play Fyre mostly as a ranged blaster, not a blapper. I plan to fill those in with partial set bonuses, but they're just not as important for me. I can use the slots and the influence better elsewhere at the moment.
For numbers, you can look here, as I've already posted them. But you can add 16% to Regeneration from the Apocalypse set. One more piece will add 3% to Health. Fyre has 1522.51 Hit Points at the moment, and the Blaster Hit Point Cap is 1606.4, so I'm getting close.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Another Off-topic video
Okay, let me say first that I don't get the Transformers-geek-craze. I know it exists from the hype before the movie came out last year. I saw the movie, I liked it, I still don't get it. But, watching Optimus Prime dancing to Cotton-Eyed Joe still made me giggle.
Optimus’ Evolution of Dance- Amazing animation
by aniboom
Optimus’ Evolution of Dance- Amazing animation
by aniboom
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Fyre's Respec: April 1, 2008
Like I said yesterday, I respeced Fyre. Here's her powers and enhancements, as of 4/1/08.
I think it's pretty self-explanatory, what I did here. I know I lost some set bonuses, but I had to make sacrifices somewhere. I added the medicine pool, because otherwise, progress on the healing badges was REALLY slow. I six-slotted brawl to make up for damage I lost elsewhere. I used all damage enhancements, because I wanted A LOT of damage. I took the Fighting Pool so I could get another attack in Boxing, and then I went ahead and took Tough and Weave, too, since I already had the pool and because I hear those are really good powers. And since I was taking the Flight pool anyway, I took Air Superiority, because I hear that's really good, too. I always wanted to try Group Fly, so I went ahead and took that, too. That'll be really good for the Shadow Shard TFs, because those are so fun. And when you're doing those with PuGs, you can't expect everyone to fly, too. Oh, and I still took the Fitness Pool. I mean, c'mon, it's not like I'm crazy. You need those. But I added slots to Swift, because I wanted to go really fast, but I don't like the way SuperSpeed makes my characters look. Ooh, and I changed to the Ice Mastery pool, because I thought a "fire and ice" theme would be really cute. I was going to drop Inferno, but I figured I'd keep it because those are really good set bonuses, and I had to make up what I lost when I dropped the purple sets. I know, those were really expensive, but it's only influence. What's a couple of hundred million here and there, right? Right!
Happy Tuesday, everybody!
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