Nothing particularly fancy here. This is going to be an ongoing thing, a part of the forum where I post some writing of mine. Doubly important at the moment, as I primarily conduct RPs through the PM system here on Blue Moon.
So this here is going to be, as the title says, a scrapbook of sorts. The narratives are going to vary - some of my posts here are going to be world building, some are going to be character action scenes, some might well be a miniature Let's Play of a game that I expand into a narrative thing...whatever strikes my fancy at that given moment.
Kudos to The Goodman for the suggestion (thanks!).
So this one is a quick snippet from the old MMORPG 'City of Heroes.' Paragon City and the Rogue Isles were fantastic settings to set your own superhero stories in. One conceit, however, was that if you were in Paragon City, you were always some variety of hero, and in the Rogue Isles, you were some variety of villain. Aside from certain missions, you would never be around in the other city if you were the wrong alignment.
This one explores that a little bit.
Steel Canyon, Paragon City
To the random passersby, a rush of air and electricity speeding down the main thoroughfare of Steel Canyon was nothing new. This was Paragon City, the 'City of Heroes,' where such events were common all the time. Usually - and almost always - a hero speeding along, to save the day.
What caught people's attention was the fact that this was not a licensed hero. It wasn't even a vigilante.
Nope. That was me.
The sirens of the police cars attempting to intercept the red and black blur flashed brightly in the evening sky as a makeshift barricade attempted to form on the next intersection. The police likely were counting on momentum, inexperience, even a lack of power to deter the would-be rogue blazing down the streets in a storm of dust, debris and electricity-
-but they were wrong. Far from slowing down, the rushing figure seemed to go faster, all but slamming into the police cruisers. A moment later, in a burst of arcing bolts and an intake of displaced air, the cars were sent flying to the sides, sending officers scattering as a highspeed camera is able to just barely capture the event in motion-
Yeah, freeze frame picture-theeere we go. You see me? Guy in red and black spandex, red goggles, bags of cash over my shoulder and running like hell? Yeah. Yeah, that's totally me.
Now, I know what you're thinking. 'Jace!' I hear you cry. 'If you developed powers in Paragon City, why turn to being a villain?' And, see, villain is kind of a strong word. 'Villain' in our world is the classic cackling mustache-twirling Dirk Dastardly type. The kind of sick bastard like Dr. Vahzilok who kidnaps people and cuts them up into zombie parts. Or Nemesis, the guy who overturns governments for the lulz. Or the Fifth Column, who are literally Nazis.
I'm Generator Red. And I'm a Rogue. I do simple jobs, I get paid for them. No grand plan. No revenge scheme. Not that I really had a choice in any of this-
The figure is forced to skid to a halt, then pirouetting on his heel to shift direction as PCPD power armored officers turn the corner, arm blasters already leveled and firing plasma in his direction. Not at all keen on fighting with his valuable cargo, he speeds off in the other direction, his movement relatively easy to follow judging by the dust cloud and the arcs of electricity trailing along the power lines.
-I mean, your powers manifest in an office building, your boss already holds a grudge against you, and the first reaction to anyone with powers that's vaguely threatening? PCPD comes in, they lock you up in the Zig these days. And Longbow makes sure you stay.
As for what this robbery's about...well...
The figure finally slowed to a more manageable trot down one of the various alleyways. Leaning against the wall, he knocked twice on the red brick surface, before pulling at a seemingly loose brick. A moment later, the wall began to rotate, taking the rogue with it-
-only to reveal the beginnings of a more sophisticated laboratory...where a man in the uniform of a private military outfit was impatiently waiting, arms crossed.
...that's a whole other story about how I got wound up with the Sky Raiders...
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