Halftrack Part III

So, in my continuing quest to develop Halftrack, I wanted to create a 21st century equivalent costume for him. One both to give a more "modern" feel, but also as a contrast to the 1940's vintage "iron soldier" costume. I also was able to make use of the Cyborg HUD combat display to add some extra depth to the costume. It mirrors closely the color palette that I used for the tech shield, particularly the energy/forcefield section of it. All colors in the costume are on the olive drab/brown theme and blend consistently.

All three costume options have a macro with phrase attached to the costume activation:
Costume one is "Deactivating Hardsuit".
Costume two is "Activating Hardsuit Mk I".
Costume three is "Activating Hardsuit Mk II".

Additionally, I picked up as a merit reward an Unbounded Leap +Stealth recipe. I cashed in my veteran reward for the additional prestige sprints and picked one to slot the IO in. I now have a macro for that sprint as well that says "Engaging Active Camouflage". The stealth aspect is nearly useless for a Tank, particularly with the taunt aura, but I did want it to go with the new tech costume. It just fits for me, and fleshes out the character in more detail.











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Rathskeller

Also an outgrowth of post-surgery Codeine and black holes in my memory, I give you the very "should be in a parade" look of Rathskeller! He's a radiation, energy manipulation blaster, (thank you powerset proliferation for giving me something to try that Garthamatic may not have mastered yet) whom, much like The Thane of Wounds, I have no recollection of creating or playing. Judging by his level, he's newer, a major lowbie at this point. I've no backstory yet, but looking forward to the challenge of creating one after-the-fact. I also look forward to the challenge of NOT using the very obvious "yellow cake uranium" plot line his look screams for. Again, though I do not recall doing it, he's also my very first toon with changed colors on powers.

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Scintillus

The Dr. Manhattan-like Scintillus was created during uninterrupted mental health, pre-peritonsular abscess, as a new toon to play with Garthamatic whilst Orleans was on hiatus. While I think both Garthamatic and I are disappointed at his initial costume being my first cop, for time's sake, to a standard duds set, the backstory was fun, he is fun to play (my first squidy), and his leveling pact with Voyaguer (my first) has been real interesting. In the design page he skewed more green than the blue he shows in game, but that's neither here nor there. Garth's advice about "if choosing between a Warshade and a Peacebringer for the first time, go with the Warshade," has definitely held up as good advice now that I have two toons to compare, if for no other reason than the comparatively lesser marketing needs of the Warshade.

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The Thane of Wounds

There he is, The Thane of Wounds, Peacebringer. Wolvensense on medication is baaaaaddd!! I've no recollection of creating him or playing him, but somehow he's at level 11 and has the badge for teaming against and defeating Eochai. I like that the alien skull reflects light, how the Peacebringer powers give him those "Sunstorm" eyes on a skull that has no eyes, and the early flight power...all learned as I logged in to take these shots. Creating a backstory to justify him after-the-fact, has been fun. I'd like to write more.

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Babbage!

Here's a nice screen-shot from last night. Orlean's is powering up, Mantlet's winding up, and Cacaphony is bubbling (although obscured behind Babbage's monster frame). Midnight-Lord (aka Silver-Suit) is also in there as well.



Congrats on Cacaphony reaching 50, as well! YAYYYY! Been a long time coming. Despite Double XP weekends, Orleans is still ahead of Mantlet, as well. But, it's not a race, it's a scenic journey. And a great one at that...

Cheers fellahs.
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FN Set Bonus Calcs

FYI if you were interested... Added 2 Cleaving Blow in Consume (Acc/Rech and Dmg/Rech), added Acc/Dmg Scirocco's Dervish in Blazing Aura.


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I can't stop... Eaggghhh!

OK, the way things are going here I may need an intervention...

Flambeau got another round of updates last night while I was "just looking" at Wentworth's. Extra cash and salvage in the vault caused my reserve to crumble and I fleshed out some more of his set enhancements... Take a look:





So, added from last update is the completed set of Touch of Death IO's in Scorch. I also have Fire Shield 4-slotted with Impervium Armor.

My momentary bout of insanity last week was buying the recipe for Numina's Convalescence +Regen +Recovery for (wait for it...) 15M influence. It's a unique enhancement (only 1 per character) that adds +20% Regen and +10% Endurance Recovery. I snapped it up because:

A.) I had the cash from some other sales that went through
B.) Since they fixed the Katie Express task force loophole, the supply of these is gonna dry up FAST. Figured it was better to snap it up now before prices became (more) insane

On the horizon, Flambeau still needs Scirocco's Dervish slotted into Blazing Aura. Also, Weave needs to be slotted out with Red Fortune set enhancements (some nice bonuses there including a global +2% damage and +5% recharge reduction). Oh, and I need to see about getting at least one additional Numina's into Health to start getting the +Regen and +Max Health set bonuses there. Other than that, we'll see how the build progresses.

At level 47 (when I can slot L50 IOs) I plan on considering a respec to optimize slotting... At L50, two IOs are almost at the ED cap (84% vs the 93% cap, IIRC). Some ideas would be to 2-slot Hasten and Fiery Embrace and use the slots elsewhere in the build. Problem with that is the scaling that happens when you Exemp down to a lower level... If you stay at Level 47+, the slotting is fine. Exemping below that really makes you need the 3rd slot. We'll see.
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Flambeau Noir hits 41

Hey guys,

Flambeau hit 41 tonight at the end of the Clockwork King mission in Peregrine Island. He's looking pretty buff these days, I figured I'd throw in a couple screenshots (including his slotting) and a shot of my Vault inventory with the offer to share anything I have that someone needs...







Cheers!
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Cheese!

Does posing mean we're posers?

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Mantlet's SG Uniform

Pictures attached. Some slight modifications to Orleans' costume to accommodate Mantlet's big noggin. (See main body of post)















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Thursday Night Highlights

Here they are! (pictures attached in main post)

























Great night guys, tons of fun. Thanks for a great session : )


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Apotheosis Fiction

I thought it only right to include the fictional pieces we'd written to boost our graphic novel style appreciation of the game.

I don't think I have them all, but below are four stories we'd played with about us. For those newer to Apotheosis, a small explanation would precede each title. I thought they should all be in the same post, but we can separate them into different posts if need be. If you have other I do not have, maybe stick them in the comments so that they are all together.

This first story is actually the humble beginning of our Super Group. It appeared in in-game emails to Cacaphony, Orleans, and Mantlet as a letter from a COH character named Billy Sawyer. The subject line read MERGER. At the time, in game, Cacaphony had caught the Vazhilok disease during the very last mission one Thursday night. Other players did not even know. They logged into the game the following week to find Cacaphony sick, the Billy Sawyer email, and the server message that identified them as a super group.

Dear Heroes,

My name is Billy and I live on the 27th floor of Pride Towers in the corner apartment with my Mom and my Uncle Jed. I’m 12 years old and I have a disease that makes it hard for me to walk. Doctor says too much time on my feet builds up spinal fluid that could make me die. It doesn’t stop me from watching you from my windows, though. You guys are my favorite heroes. One time you went after the Clockwork gang on my roof and I could look at you so close when you went passed the window that I could read your badges. That was cool.

Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for all the hard work. You have inspired me. I’m really good in English. Got a 100% record for my vocabulary tests. The only extra credit I ever missed was for the word ‘inspired.’ I didn’t really know what it meant until today. See, last night I watched you guys team up again. I stayed on my stomach in the window box just squinting as hard as I could to make you out down there in the street. It looked like you had some hard fighting, that’s for sure. Then Mantlet, you went home , and Orleans, you went out the city zone gate. Cacophony, you flew up by my window and I started to cry. I could see the bugs coming out from under your armor and the green seeping from your skin. I knew the fight must have been hard, but I had no idea it would give you the Vazhilok disease. It must be eating you up inside, sapping all your power. I wondered if you told the others. Then I started thinking about my disease and how much it hurts me. I couldn’t watch one of my heroes wither away like that. The way I figure it, the only way to get better is with a strong circle of friends to watch your back. I would like to be one of those friends.

By the time you read this, I will have walked all the way to City Hall on my own. I am going to fill out that paper that officially makes you guys a team, even if it ends my life. I’ve seen you guys work together. You are good for each other, even if you don’t know it yet. You need each other now more than ever or Cacaphony might die. I know you guys aren’t the types to want your names in the paper or have big statues like the old timers. You are just about protecting kids like me, all the way down to the back alleys. That’s why I’ve decided that my last act on this Earth is going to be a heroic one. I am going to go there and fill out that paper for you. I hope I can sneak it into the pile. Thank you. Thank you for showing me everything I ever wanted to see and for teaching me what it means to be ‘inspired.’ I wonder if there is extra credit in heaven.

Sincerely,
Billy

This next story entitled, The Risen Dyad, was just sent by regular email from Rob to Greg after a night of play with Eric absent. The two had completed a story arch before hunting up a storm. It mentions an old friend, Silver-Suit. That was the first night ever that they'd played with "Suit." I don't remember, but I am pretty sure this was before Apotheosis came into being.

The Risen Dyad

He swore he could still feel it, the reverberations in his solid breastplate, tingling still from the final blow Mr. Shin had deigned to land. Mantlet, a thickly clad hero on the rise in Paragon City had vanquished many an evil-doer in these once urbane limits, but felling Mr. Shin was different. It was as if Mantlet had come of age in a generation of inexplicable titans, now better able to count himself among them. It felt...good. Mantlet scarcely understood the new wellspring of emotion threatening to pound its way through his armor. His was a life of servitude and selflessness, a man dedicated to the people, born of a singular cause. One lawbreaking foe was usually no different than the next, a line drawn in proverbial sand separating right form wrong, work from duty. Mr. Shin lay flattened, lifeless, all about him the corpses of those who would defend him. His secret lair, doomed to be sealed off for good, would be as close as this villain would come to a coffin, but somehow, he was mysteriously undefeated. Perhaps, in death, Mr. Shin did triumph after all. His criminal empire crushed, the terror he struck in the hearts of citizens, erased, the last remaining candle that burned in homage to his deeds burned deeply on within his very executioner. Prevailing over Mr. Shin should have been a task like any other. Yet, the spark of joy that pressed from the deed to the bosom of the doer might well have been Mantlet's fatal chink. Was it not wrong to LIKE killing?

Cacaphony remembered his first implants. His introduction into the world of the hearing was not without its social dilemmas and headaches of all kinds. The experimental implants of his teen years interpreted input in monaural tones. As a result, he was hard pressed to understand human emotions as expressed through voice. The lilt in children's laughter might as well have been tortured women screaming in agony. The hums and whirs of the world came to him as mundane cadences without spirit or art. These days his heroic deeds are woven into the history of the city, but back then, his greatest triumph was overcoming the madness set to ensue from the musical monotony of the undeaf. Technology was not to better him, without first he bettering himself.

In Cacaphony's present, those memories are all but shed, along with his Christian name, the family he loved, and a happy, silent past that knew nothing of Rikti. Today, his is a range of hearing sensed beyond several spectra of sound, and returned ten-fold with the speed of inward thought. The chills set in his spine at the true din of a human scream led him to a hero's path. The consternation set in his gut at this new change in his partner's tone, leads him now to a path of fear. It was no wonder the memories began unburying themselves.

Little was said as those last breaths left Shin's body. It was suddenly quiet, a once familiar quiet to the defender, an altogether stirring quiet for his tank. Cacaphony could sense the change in Mantlet's inflection, even if Mantlet could not. There was a seed of contentment, even thrill to Mantlet's exasperated words, all be they few. Mantlet had languished in the shade of Cacaphony's trust for all these daunting months knowing that his devotion to duty put the mechanized warrior at ease. He knew the unwavering focus with which he dispatched justice sounded almost robotic to the people, but to Cacaphony it sounded percussive, familiar, a flashback to a world of monotones and midi levels. Mantlet's was always a balanced approach. Today, for merely a moment, that had changed.

"Partners to the end" was always a certainty among true heroes. For every grain of heroism that fed their thankless battles, there was a hundred times the solidarity lacing their friendships. Heroes are demigods of teamwork above all else. They are the "best" moniker in the very concept of best friends. Yes, "partners to the end" should well have been printed on every hero's back. Now, for the first time in everyone's ever, this dyad had to ask themselves, "to what end?" Cacaphony did not mention the change he'd heard in Mantlet's voice, indeed a change in his otherwise unyielding soul. Mantlet cast aside the notion of discussing this new feverous pleasure in watching a fiend expire. Both knew there was no slipperier slope for a hero than to LIKE the tasks set before him. Tales tell of super villains hold up in parts unknown that came to be amidst this exact lapse in judgment. In a moment, Shin's was not the only heart that had stopped beating.

Together, and silently, the two took to the streets. They hunted wrongdoers at random at a greater pace than they ever had before, Mantlet to prove to himself the existence of flukes, Cacaphony to bring the team's work back to the forefronts of both minds. If it was a practice in denial, it was so to the benefit of Paragoners everywhere, foe after foe dropping as if spit by the sky. Every landed blow, another excuse to ignore what both had perceived, and what every hero fears. The valorous deeds looked little different to the eyes of passers-by, nothing unexpected even for the likes of insiders, a budding blaster named Silver-Suit, a side kick called Pussiewillow. Nobody noticed a thing. Nobody said a word. And like this the duo of Mantlet and Cacaphony began to navigate their uncertain futures through the zones of Paragon City.

The third story was sent to both Eric and Greg by regular email long after Apotheosis had come into being. I believe the subject line of the email was Ambulance in the Bay. They received the email story one night, and logged in to find a brand new SG member named The Marzipan Fritterthe next day. Though it happened later, the story is a flashback, of sorts, to the day Apotheosis was created. While the story doesn't completely bridge the gap between Apotheosis and Marzipan, the newbie's character description fills in that hole. When I get the chance, I'll start putting everyone's character descriptions into a separate post as well. Enjoy the read.

An Ambulance in the Bay

Nurse Sally Vigils had called maintenance three hours ago and they still hadn't come down to emergency. It had been an altogether light day, one suture to a knee, another splinter of glass removed from a drunk's cornea. So, it wasn't like lives were hanging in the balance. Still, Sally couldn't figure out why the autoclave had left such an obvious spot on just one of the instruments. Perhaps the whole blemish was a fluke, but she wasn't about to take the chance that the machine wasn't doing its job. Her mother had taken such risks when the Rikti invaded, triaging without time or care as to TWO planets worth of deadly bacteria. Ever after Sally wondered if good intentions were enough for her Mom's passage into heaven. Nope, this was a detail that would not go unquestioned. She laid the smudged retractor on her desk and made up a small hand-written sign remarking "Out of Order."

Behind her the bubbling pings of another transported hero echoed throughout the tiled space. His reflection in the retractor looked a little like Statesman, but maybe that was just Sally's flair for nostalgia kicking in again. She'd gotten used to the sounds as if they were white noise. There had been so many heroes stomping through here since the gangs were on the move again. It was like they were getting more organized, growing in numbers, maybe even casting aside their differences to fight together, perhaps even under the influence of some darker force afoot in the city.

Again, the pings bubbled up, this time Sally taking a cursory glance over her shoulder to see Rickey Jackson, ex-football great turned super, rush past her in a whoosh. He'd been coming here since his playing days and though she wasn't on a first name basis with the tanker, she surely knew his file inside and out. Dauntless, Jackson only managed a half wink in her direction, as much of a wink as one could expect from a diesel locomotive, before blazing back out into the frenzied streets. Sally heard his elevator hit ground floor when the next hero buzzed into the rings, and did very much the same as the last.

Sally called maintenance one more time, this time on the intercom, booming over several floors, and then settled into doing charts. A couple residents had been arguing the finer points of extubation with a crop of first years, but it all blended into the everyday rush of heroflow and patients' families trying to pass the time. Ping, there went Pussiewillow. Boing, Maverick behind her. There was a burgle sort of sound as three transporters blazed up at once sending through Steel Blossom, Black Ice, and a none worse for the wear Flux who'd thought his fighting days were over. If chart time was going to be like this, Sally was going to need some coffee.

Her chair scraped more perturbedly than usual on the tile as she made for the dispenser in a single, full-body gesture. The retractor vibrated ever so slightly on the desk as it sensed both the chair and her footsteps making away. Ping, a lesser known Cacaphony anatomized almost in her way and further stressed Sally with that little awkward moment that is the dance around an unknown defender. Always polite, Sally silently excused herself, as if the intersection were her fault, and half spun around the hero's left leg to arrive at her destination, Java Jetson. Then, she heard something she hadn't heard in all her years of working the ER. It came from the hero...and it was a cough.

Almost glossing over the familiar sound of the cough altogether before realizing it came from who it did, Sally shook a little, dropping the paper cup back onto its stack and turning 180. She stopped the defender from running directly out with a simple grasp of his arm.

"You there. Hero. What's your name?"

Cacaphony answered only with a cryptic, "Not what it used to be."

Sally, pressing, urged with, "You'd better come over here so I can take a look at you."

This was the first time anyone had ever stopped Cacaphony in the hospital. His impetus was always to run out without even managing a hello. Sally couldn't see a shred of skin or expression under Cacaphony's fully protective duds. She did, on the other hand, know he was sick. Her diagnosis was less from the cough, and more from the way the black and red clad stranger sort of swayed a little from side to side, unbalanced. It couldn't have been anything physical. The transporters had been programmed with the absolute bulk of medical knowledge the planet had to offer, most contributing doctors to the project still on staff here in the zone. It had to be something else, something bad. Before she could motion him to a chair, Cacaphony coughed a second time, and as if embarrassed, ran out silently into the setting sun. Little could Cacaphony know, his very fate was about to take his place under Sally's care.

The radio crackled to life with a static facsimile of an EMT's voice calling out to Sally from a mile away. Sally rushed to the transmitter.

"ER, go ahead Jester. Over."

Again the static and then with boosted gain, "Incoming code red, minor, approximately 13, no pulse, not breathing, pupils dilated and unresponsive! Found him collapsed in the lobby at City Hall, maybe five minutes! Med tags say acute meningitis, histoplasmosis, allergy to Demerol. Chest compressions two minutes in, CPR, running a unit, heparin, antifungal 2ccs, antibiotic spectrum. I.D. s^&FFFFS, Over."

Sally retorted, "Say again Jester. You're cutting out. Say again, I.D., Over."

"School I.D. matches bracelet. Name Billy Sawyer. Try to find the parents, Sal' fast! We're three minutes out. Over."

Sally again, "Billy Sawyer. Copy. ER Out."

The last story of those I have isn't about an Apotheosis member at all. So for the sake of this website, we'll call it a communique intercepted at the base. It came in an email to Greg and me and was very well done. The subject was Greetings From The Rogue Isles. In real life the "guys" had just gotten me COV as a gift for Easter. It was also in letter form and included pictures that I'll try to insert along with it. The titles of the pictures were At Work and Buddies respectively. Great use of the training zone here.

Greetings From The Rogues Isles

Dear Mom and Dad,

I guess you've heard by now that I've broken out of prison. I hope the Feds haven't been hassling you too much. It really wasn't my fault. This guy came into my cell and told me I had to leave. He was in this crazy uniform. I thought it was the army or something. Turns out, it was "or something". I really don't know how much I can say about it, but they think I'm really special. So don't worry too much. I'm doing just fine. And if they ask you any questions about "Lokhead," well, that's what they call me now. It's a long story.

In fact, I made some friends here already. Here's a picture of me and my friend Jimmy.

This was taken while he was on duty. He doesn't carry that thing around all the time!
Here's another one of my friend Tommy. We were just checking out the scenery on Mercy Island.

You might notice that I look a little different. As you can probably guess, that's another result of the accident. I don't know how much they told you, but apparently all the guys at Lockheed and NASA were right. Dark Matter and liquid oxygen will NOT make a good alternate propulsion system. But we wouldn't know for sure unless I tried, right? And if it hadn't been for the storm knocking out the generators and the containment units failing, I still think it could have worked.

Which brings us to the point I really wanted to talk about. We never really discussed what happened in New Orleans East. What with the storm and the feds and the army hauling me off, it was hard to get around to it, I'm sorry. I should have explained. First of all, it was blown WAY out of proportion. I mean, the place was pretty messed up to begin with. Sure, I helped things along, but come on! It's not like anybody was going to be living there for awhile anyway, right? And nobody let me tell my side! It's not like I was in my right mind. I mean, I was pretty upset at just having been blown up. Not to mention all my work. And the fact that I continued to blow up over and over again was a little disconcerting, as well. (I'm sorry about the garage, too, by the way) So I went a little crazy. Who didn't, right? Is that a reason to treat me like some kind of criminal?

But I guess it doesn't matter. What happened, happened. I know this has been hard on you, especially you, Mom, and I really wanted to say I'm sorry. Let everybody know that I'm doing okay, I'm working with some really good people, and as soon as I figure out how to get some money out of here I'll be sending a little something to help out, okay?

By the way, you don't have to worry about me blowing up, anymore. The company that runs the prison finally figured out a way to make a suit (the one in the picture) that keeps everything under control. So if you get a chance, you can even come visit and we won't have to worry about anybody getting hurt this time. Tell Uncle Harry I'm sorry about that, too.

I love you very much.

Frankie

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Apotheosis: A Brief Pictoral History

Billy Sawyer was a visionary! But that did little to speed up the time it takes for our Super Fashion Sense to kick in.

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