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Post by Shinko on Sept 11, 2016 13:04:46 GMT -5
Hero City was a roleplay event run by Shinko, Tiger, and Carrie during the autumn of 2016. It took place in the fictional city of Heraclia, where superheroes and supervillains were commonplace, and the heroes took part in a biannual hero reality show to compete for a cash prize. A team of supervillains attacked Heraclia, presenting the previously disorganized heroes with a thread such as they’d never experienced before. Four villains competed against twelve heroes, and the twelve heroes also competed against each other as individuals. The players had to complete missions- usually either puzzles or some sort of creative assignment- in order to earn points. This meant that, in writing quests in particular, players could directly influence the trajectory of the plot, for better or for worse. This thread was initially split into individual threads for each round. A narrator post at the start of each round detailed the major events of the previous round’s missions, as well as advanced the overall plot. Below you can see the original titles for each round, with links to the round they corresponded with. The game had two sides- heroes and villains. The villains had four unique roles. The Dark Magician
A powerful magician and spellcaster. This role was responsible for sabotaging the efforts of the heroes by tampering with their quests.
The Evil Genius
A cunning scientist and strategist supreme. This role was responsible for helping the villain team to plan ahead by peering into the future of their quest trees.
The Arch-Nemesis
An old foe with a grudge. This role was paired with one of the heroes, and could challenge that hero in order to settle the score between them.
The Hypnotized Hero
A former friend turned dangerous enemy. This role was capable of making it easier for villains to apply role blocking quests against the heroes. The heroes were also divided, each being part of a certain “class.” The classes were- All Stars
The most famous, powerful, and successful of the heroes. The All Stars had the ability to take advantage of their star status to steal the attention of any force that meant the heroes ill, and prevent the heroes missions from getting blocked.
Tech Heroes
Non-powered individuals who instead fought the villains with technology and training. They had the ability to “bug” one of the villains, stealing their points for the round.
B-Listers
Heroes the show keeps on, but who aren’t especially strong or popular. They had the ability to nerf the penalty on team missions that forced a team to split the points for the mission, allowing instead that all o a mission’s points would to the whole team. The roles were assigned as follows - ------- *Bzzt!*
“And welcome back everyone, to our exclusive interview with Eyescream Man, last year’s hero city grand champion! Best known for his ability to fire metal melting heat rays from his pupils, now that he’s won the grand prize he has some very different plans for the future, isn’t that right sir?”
“Absolutely, Tom. Few people know this, but my life’s passion has always been frozen yogurt. I love the stuff; can’t eat enough of it, and I’ve invented quite a few secret recipe flavors in my spare time. Now that I’ve won the grand prize, I plan to retire to the countryside and open my own frozen yogurt parlor.”
“Bit of a departure from your old job of melting things, isn’t it? Haha.”
“Hey, you do what you have to in order to get by. Sometimes you have to take a few hits before you can make it big, am I right?”
“Do you think you’ll miss it at all? Serving truth and justice, saving lives imperilled?”
“Heh, well as I said for the confession cam at the end of the last season, much though the call of justice is alluring, I’d rather end my hero career without being horribly maimed like old S-”
“-and if you call the number on your screen right now, we’ll send you an additional recipe book absolutely free! That’s one standard size toaster oven, one-”
*Bzzt!*
“Be sure to pack a jacket folks, it’s chilly out there! Highs today are going to be about 4.4 degrees celsius, with lows dipping below the freezing point. Sadly no snow yet this autumn, but if things continue as they’ve been going it’ll be all white all the time by the start of December. Winds out of the north moving at-”
“Ask your doctor if throwpillsatit is right for you-”
“In a press conference at Heraclia City Hall yesterday, Mr. William ‘Bill’ Sinclair, CEO of the television network Hero City Network, announced that this upcoming season will be bigger and better than ever. The loss of Eyescream Man won’t be a detriment, he assured, but just a changing of the guard. No word yet on if he’s managed to recruit a new hero to fill out the lineup, however, which is especially concerning considering that Eyescream Man isn’t the only loss this season. It was confirmed that the self-styled ‘Nyx Nightshadow’ will indeed not be returning after her termination last season.”
“Sinclair refused to comment on rumors that famed superstar, the Queen, has been brought on to perform at the season premier-”“Bill! Bill, honey, are you still watching TV?”The subject of the interview that had been playing on the screen blinked, roused from his channel flipping trance, and sighed softly. Setting down the remote control on the sofa beside himself.“I was,” he called back. “But there’s nothing really on right now. Did you need something, Anna?”Sinclair’s wife strode into the room, quirking an eyebrow. “Need something? No, I didn’t need anything. You on the other hand, need something rather a lot. You need to get out of here before you’re late to work.”Startled, Sinclair looked at the clock on the mantle and swore. “That time already?”“That time already,” Anna agreed, coming up to her husband and giving him a peck on the cheek. “Get going, Bill. And don’t push the capes too hard, hm? You are two down this season.”“I know, love,” he agreed, kissing his wife back before he moved to change clothes for work. “But it can’t be helped. The show won’t get the ratings it needs if the heroes aren’t saving any days.”“That and people will get hurt,” Anna added, a touch sharply.“Of course,” Sinclair agreed absently. “That too. Love, have you seen my tie?”* * * Iskender waited to leave home until the tail-end of the morning rush. No point waking up excessively early when he could saunter into the train station just as well later in the day - he’d been enjoying a nice beam of sunlight, after all. It was easier to sneak aboard while everyone was running late, anyway. Humans were already outrageously unaware of their own surroundings when they were focused on navigating a crowd, after all - avoiding collisions, spilling coffee, listening to the weather report or music delivered by their earpieces, checking the time over and over… it was easy to slip through the maze of moving feet, even if you were pure-white and luxuriously fluffy. Iskender found a hiding place under one of the seats on the suspended train. Window views were nice, but a crowd this big meant someone might try to make a coordinated effort to catch him. Easy as it would be to get out of anyone’s grip, the cat didn’t feel like blowing his cover by breaking some idiot human’s fingers. It was, he reflected, tucking his paws under his chest and curling his tail around himself, a very special day. As boorish as it was of Heraclia to make such a scripted spectacle of their superpowered “heroes” and “villains,” as ridiculous as it was to divide something so dynamic into seasons, as if it could be catalogued and organized - even the cat couldn’t deny there was something exciting and edged about the first day of a new season of Hero City.He had known it was coming for weeks, of course; it was hard not to, in Heraclia, but it was also important for a good villain to know the environment around their opponents. Today they would be extra showy and cocky. Puffing up for the cameras. Hamming up the corny speeches. Iskender made a mental note to watch for any new costumes. The train stopped twice before Iskender got off. The cat’s path through the quiet streets - free of any local strays, as they had long-since learned to avoid the fluffy white housecat - led him toward the mountains on the south side of the city. It was a bit of a climb to the little tunnel that served as Iskender’s personal entrance to the hideout, but super-strength came in handy for climbing. Gradually, the tunnel became less dirt and more steel - Iskender knew he was getting close when a stream of red lights flicked on above him, illuminating the tunnel, and he could hear the television playing something. Finally, the tunnel levelled out and opened onto a larger room. Iskender hopped out of the mountain and into the secret lair of Heraclia’s most notorious villains - some of said villains were even in the room now: Screaming Scimitar, uncharacteristically silent; Tripwire, smirking at the feed; and Darkborn, taking up enough space for two people with his huge black cloak and nearly brushing the ceiling with his elaborate helmet. His eyes were glowing a decidedly amused shade of purple from the shadowy mass that was Darkborn’s face.The television was turned to the news. Predictably, they were covering the start of the new season. Iskender hopped onto a table, smirking at the screen as a newscaster smarmed, “I think we can all say that this season of Hero City is going to be the best yet!”“Oh, yes,” Iskender purred. “It will certainly be that.” |
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Post by Avery on Sept 11, 2016 14:06:48 GMT -5
Wheatley was a Good Boy. He knew this because the humans told him so all the time. “Sit, Wheatley!” (Good boy!) “Stay, Wheatley!” (Such a good boy!) “Don’t you dare steal that chicken off the counter, Wheatley!” (Good, good boy!) At three years and six months of age, Wheatley rang in at a svelte sixty-four pounds; his coat was a glossy wheat, save for a blaze of milk white at his chest, and his eyes were a startling blue as piercing and cold as winter ice. His broad, flat head was crowned by a pair of mismatched ears—one stock straight, the other floppy—and his tongue was hanging out of his wide mouth more often than it wasn’t. His jowls were often glistening with drool. So were the floors of his owner’s house. On a crisp autumn morning in November, after his humans had all departed the house for the day, Wheatley lay in the living room stretched upon the Good Sofa, belly-up, tongue lolling. He was not supposed to be on the Good Sofa. (He knew this because the humans told him so all the time.) But the humans were not here. And so neither were their rules. … He startled awake as he heard the screen door that led into the Yard creak open—then slam back shut. A growl rose in Wheatley’s throat, as he flopped from his back to his belly, and then leapt off of the couch. With the grace of a… lumbering sixty-four pound pit bull… the dog stalked from the living room, into the hall, and then into the large kitchen beyond. Hackles up. Ready to protect his turf from whatever intruder had clearly come hither. … But there was nobody there. And the air didn’t smell of a stranger—only the leftover tang of peanut butter from the toast one of the humans had made that morning (and which said human hadn’t shared with him!), and the lemon wet wipes the other human used to clean the shining granite countertops, and the vague tantalizing aroma of the half-full garbage can that was topped by a magic lid he could not for the life of him figure out how to open. But if no one had come in, then that meant… Wheatley let out a sound that was half-howl, half-bark, his heart hammering wildly as he arrowed toward the screen door. The sturdy collar around his neck gave a telltale beep, and Wheatley did not bother to curb his momentum as the Magic Portal 1 that took up the better part of the bottom half of the door slid open. Sailing through the opening, Wheatley took a deep drag of the sharp autumnal air. The wooden slats of the back deck, glazed by a thin layer of morning ice, stung against his paw pads. Even still, he did not let the discomfort slow him. Without breaking pace he lobbed himself down the three steps that led from the deck to the grass below, then sprinted toward the Gate. If he hurried—if he really hurried—maybe he could catch up, maybe he could— Thump, click. The telltale sound of the gate swinging shut. Wheatley let out another beleaguered noise—this one all howl, no bark. He had not been fast enough. The Cat—Iskender if you asked him; Gatsby if you asked the humans—was already, maddeningly gone. 1The magic portal.Meet Wheatley: a sixty-four pound pit bull who is a good boy! |
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Post by icon on Sept 11, 2016 14:15:04 GMT -5
“So Mister Sipes, I have to ask—in your illustration work for your HCN-licensed comic book series Heraclia’s Masks, do you regularly meet with heroes to document their accounts?”“Well, the thing about illustration is that I really don’t have to get out into the thick of things—when I receive scripts from my writers it’s mostly a matter of transposing them directly to the page. Most of the time I can just draw from the extensive pool of references that HCN keeps on file.
“Of course, that being said, it’s certainly the case that I may need to illustrate something and it, you know, it turns out that we just don’t have a reference image for it. Take last season’s Eyescream Man promotional comic, for example—try as I might, I just simply couldn’t find any pictures of his laser eyebeams at work! I actually had to ask him to come into the studio and ask him to melt a block of steel so I could get a reference image!”[laughter] “Haha, that sounds like it must have been quite the escapade! Now, before we wrap up here—should we be on the lookout for any of your work in the upcoming season?”“Well, you’ll see some of my illustrations in the promotional billboards going up around the city—and if you tune in to the show, you can catch a brief glimpse of my artwork in the show opener—it’s only there for about half a second, but it’s one of the best pieces of illustration I’ve done in a while, the editors did a phenomenal job incorporating it into the opening.”
“We’ll all be on the lookout for it. Thank you so much for coming in to share your time with us this week, Wellsey.”“No problem, Io.”* * * “Well heroes, that’s it for this episode of Super Script, but tune in tomorrow evening to watch me, Origin Stories host Anthony Drippen, and MASK co-host Wax Eon as we watch some of our favorite Hero City clips from last season and talk about theories for the upcoming season as well. We’ll be coming to you live from the Lotus Cafe, but you can also catch it on our MASK VR stream—channel number 001883.
“If you’re a fan of Super Script, please leave us a five-star review on Streem, Audiofile, Podchatter, or on whichever streaming site you’re listening from! Your reviews help us reach more listeners and expand our viewership. And as always, thank you to those supporting us on Benefact—we’ll have some backer-exclusive content up later this week.
“Super Script is a member of the MASK Media Network, home to such great podcasts and VRcasts as MASK, Decrypto-knight, Origin Stories, Rewind, and many more. MASK Media is not associated with the Hero City Network, and we claim no copyright over any of Hero City's intellectual property.
“Lastly, that theme music swelling up over my voice right now is Eggdrop Heart Balloons, by X-Sideways Panic. I’m Ionesca Rookwise, and this has been Super Script. Until next time, heroes—keep looking up!”* * * Super Script is a podcast run by Ionesca Rookwise (Io for short), a member of the MASK Media Network, alongside various other podcasts, streams, and VRcasts, all devoted to the Hero City Network. Get ready for fandom, folks. >D
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Post by Coaster on Sept 11, 2016 14:30:09 GMT -5
"So, a Mutton Olympus with the Greek salad and a lemonade? Okay, come up and pay at the window, your order will be ready in a sec." Randy turned around and shouted at the cooks farther back, "MUTTON COMBO WITH LEMON FOR COLD-MAN!" as a spandex-clad figure--hardly concealed by the comically long old-fashioned trench coat and extra-dark sunglasses--sent a freezing beam towards the ground in front of the fly-thru window of Gyro City, slid across, and came to a shaky stop at the interruption of a sneeze and a series of sniffles. "Why, ob all thigs, id by ode weagdess DERO TO FOUD DEGEES", he lamented as he deposited some money on the counter, scattering it with another poorly-timed sneeze and emitting a series of loud sniffles as Randy picked up the coins clattering around the floor. "Yeah, ironic. Here's your change and your meal," Randy responded as he offered the items to the superhero. "Have a nice day, Cold-M--I mean IceMan--err, Robert." The ice vanished behind the 'disguised' super as he rather wobblily slid away, and the guy on food prep who had produced the bag of food gave Randy a tap on the shoulder. "What is it?" "I don't think you were listening, but the boss wanted to tell 'Mr. Randy M. Clark' that break's going to be after 1 today; lunch rush is coming early thanks to Hero City about to start. All these extra superheroes getting ready for the show and such." Randy let out an exasperated sigh and responded, "Thanks, Cooke. Guess that means our supreme overlady will be paying us all more overtime, at least." --- "'Ms. Hier', that means you too," Cooke's voice echoed from farther back in the store in a comical falsetto (a poor impression of the manager), "so keep doing whatever you do, Kaysha." Meanwhile, at the counter, a bright-eyed young teen in gold pigtails and a tidy-looking red polo had also heard the news, but did not let that lower her spirits because she was in training but she was going to be the best at the counter ever and not let anything get in her way of making the day of hungry patrons all over Heraclia, darn it! The store was packed today, which was unsurprising, seeing as Gyro City had outbid its neighbouring competitor Shawarma Shah to the mid-show slot on today's teaser for that hit reality show whose name Gyro City was so similar to. Sure enough, every table was occupied by a range of citizens ranging from average people in cardigans and hoodies, to those as thinly disguised as IceMan, to those sitting smugly in full costume with their boots on the tables as Jan (currently bussing) tried to shoo them away. At least the decoration was always nice to look at in the idle seconds customers fumbled with their cards or change, Kaysha thought, gazing across the Greek-pantheon-inspired portraits lining stuccoed walls, and replica vases in every corner--and the view outside was gorgeous, with the station just down the lane, and the lake in vivid blue visible beyond the tracks. "Hello, welcome to Gyro City, can I take your order?" Kaysha repeated cheerily as the next customer arrived at the counter. Gyro City is a gyro joint in the main hub of Heraclia, serving supers and citizens since at least a while ago. So feel free to come for a visit and order whatever you can think of because food is tasty. 8D (Also, if you need ideas for what's on the menu, just ask Kaysha, she loves talking about the specials.) |
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Post by Shinko on Sept 11, 2016 19:45:48 GMT -5
"Kyoko," Sinclair called to his secretary over the company paging system. "I'm heading outside for a fifteen- ask anybody who wants to talk to me to wait in the lobby, would you?" "Of course sir," crackled a cool female voice from the device. The CEO of Hero City Network stood with a sigh, picking up his winter coat and throwing it over his shoulders. He was a man of middling height, with greying blond hair held out of his face by a ponytail and cold silver-blue eyes. Everything about him seemed cold, at least at first glance- he was not a man one approached on a whim if they had any sense. But that didn't mean people didn't stare. Because oh my did they stare. And why should they not? A former hero turned corporate lord, the man who currently ran the phenomenon that was the long-running Hero City reality show after years of being a competitor in it. He was a curiosity to some, an idol to others, and an object of scorn to still more. As he stepped into the elevator that led down to the lobby, however, one wouldn't have known it. He kept his eyes forward, his expression flat, and didn't do much as glance at the many office peons who paused to gawk, let alone acknowledge them. He was used to it by now. Once he reached the front lobby of the building, he was promptly waved around the metal detectors at the entrance, allowing him to head directly out into the frigid late-autumn air. He shuddered a little, pulling out a small cigarette out of the pocket of his coat and flicking a lighter with his other hand. He took a long drag from the thing, feeling a pressing tremor in his hands recede, then let the breath out in a combined cloud of condensation and smoke. Not wanting to fill the air right in front of the network building with smoke, Sinclair strode forwards towards the street. It was chilly yes, but a walk could do him some good, before everything got insane later in the afternoon. He took another puff, wondering idly what the coming months would bring to the city. It was calm for now, the city abuzz with excitement for the new season of the show, but things never stayed calm for very long in Heraclia. Sinclair takes his company mandated fifteen minute break, going outside onto the street near the main headquarters of HCN to take a smoke. Anybody who likes can approach him here. ^^ |
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Post by June Scarlet on Sept 11, 2016 21:04:32 GMT -5
Beatrice Bizelli walked down the sidewalk, yelling at her smartdevice, or rather, at the hologram of the man she was holding a conversation with. “Can you BELIEVE that amateur hour MASK Media show got Wellsey Sipes for an interview?!” “Well… no, I didn’t ask him for an interview. He’s just some artist, he doesn’t have any actual say in the show.” “I’ll tell you why I’m angry! It’s the principle of the matter! I cover REAL journalism with people who have REAL say in how the show is run, and I can get REAL news from them. But that fan group is constantly trying to one-up my professional experience, and the people just lap it up! But I’m the one with the press badge, I’m the one who broke the news about The Queen!” “Unconfirmed rumors?! Only because Sinclair still thinks he can outfox me. But trust me, this show has a certain formula, you start to notice it over the seasons. And old Bill like to make a huge spectacle of the premier. Plus the posts The Queen made that hint-“ “… Well, yeah, I sometimes read her social media. Only when I have nothing better to do.” “… Well, yeah, I listen to her songs sometimes.” “Okay, yes, I’m a fan of The Queen, geeze, you don’t have to be so immature about it.” “Look, you know what? I need to get to work, you should try it some time. There’s a season premier about to begin, and I have some reporting to do.” icon Beatrice hates MASK media Network, even though they seem to cover things she doesn't. Shinko Beatrice seems to think she knows what Sinclair is planning this season. We'll see if she's right. Twillie Beatrice seems to be a big fan of The Queen. And there's now a Journalist on the loose! |
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Post by Moni on Sept 11, 2016 23:00:36 GMT -5
At midday, when the sun hung at the sky's zenith, Firelyman felt most comfortable in his apartment. The shades of his windows only let in just enough light to turn the darkness into mere dimness. Sometimes, more direct beams of sunlight illuminated some of the numerous clippings affixed onto the wall--an abstract on a new study of feeding habits on viperfish, a written letter in crayon from a child who had liked watching Fireflyman last season, a picture of a man with a curved jaw and eyes whose irises were surrounded by a web of compound eyes which once as the cover of Nature.Below one of the eyes was the subtitle: A thought experiment come to life: new questions in bioethics.Fireflyman buzzed around his desk, his teeth grinding on a three-day-old cold churro he had left in the fridge. His thin hands worked mechanically on decorating his new weapons for Hero City. Its function was not flashy or particularly amusing. The guns at his desk were merely made for the most practical of purposes and were therefore rather dull, and he was laying on faint layers of paint and some hand-drawn stickers of the Bohr model of the atom to make them a little more personal. Beside the weapons lay a thin, unfinished stick model of a jellyfish towering over a plate containing more three-day-old churros. They were always in Fireflyman's compound eyesight, even as he went to his laptop to order some more building sticks to be delivered to his local craft store. His mind as well as his body jerkily jumped from one task and thought to the next. He wished he had retained all three pairs of limbs he had as a firefly when he turned human--two pairs of usable hands would have been really nice to have. He let a few drops of digestive enzyme drop onto the churro currently sticking out of his mouth like a cigar and started eating. It was something he had promised himself to get out of the habit of doing--it worked for now when people were still enamored with his coleopteran manner, but he wasn't going to be very successful when he would eventually bring old, disgusting food to a staff lunch with all his colleagues in the future. With a sigh, he put the half-digested churro on the plate, still averse to the idea of wasting food. At any rate, he should have really been thinking about this new season of Hero City rather than his future career as a marine biologist. He liked participating in the show well enough if it meant it made people happier to watch him fumble along with the "real" heroes, though even he knew that something was rather off about the program. He'd taken countless rehabilitation regimes before--and he knew that for real threats, humans bunched up together or created a force of sorts to deal with them. These institutions were to be taken very seriously and held in a high regard, not used as entertainment that could predictably rise to create drama, for Sinclair to say that Hero City would be "very exciting" on a certain season. Sure, video editors could account for a lot of the excitement from season to season. Those humans could make the life of a basement-dwelling conman into a romantic and multifaceted drama, and Fireflyman certainly had a morbid appreciation for their craft. It was also equally true that criminal activity--and supercriminal activity--always seemed to rise in the in-season, and it was not unreasonable to believe some collaboration was going about. Not that it really mattered anyway; he had his own little niche, and he was firmly committed to staying safely in it, only trying to stop crime in the most earnest of purposes. His attention suddenly snapped to a spider that was hanging from spider silk attached in his wide peripheral vision. A deep rage exploded within him and he swiftly punched the spider, sending it flying to the other side of the room. "Stupid arachnid!" he spat. "Your kind has killed too many of my brethren and sisteren! Don't you dare mess with me!" He suppressed a memory of one of his ex-firefly girlfriends being caught in a spider's web before. Fireflyman walked over the spider's fidgeting body and observed it with wide eyes as it flipped over and started slowly crawling away from him. It was not long, however, before something else in his little environment caught his attention. A knock on the door. "Hello?" a woman's voice called. "Is anyone home?" "Yeah, just a minute!" Fireflyman quickly put on his thick spectacles that lent a more normal appearance to his eyes, a wide t-shirt that effectively hid his beetle-esque wings, and a pair of opaque, light-blocking pants to conceal any unfortunate incidences of bio-luminescence. It was going to be a long day. tl;dr: fireflyman is a firefly and he does firefly things. he doesn't trust the show 100% and just wants to do his own little thing. |
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Post by Thorn on Sept 11, 2016 23:21:30 GMT -5
“..It was confirmed that the self-styled ‘Nyx Nightshadow’ will indeed not be returning after her termination last season.”Nyx switched off the t.v. and slumped back into the cushions, arms folded. “ Will indeed not be returning…” she mimicked. “Huh! Maybe I don’t want to be on your stupid show. Maybe I’ve got better things to do. And don't call it 'termination'. Makes it sound like I'm dead or something." She raised one hand, gesturing emphatically for the benefit of the only other being in the room: “Huh! And frozen yoghurt…how low can you get? It’s doesn’t even taste that good- I have half a mind to open up an ice-cream parlour, put him out of business. That guy was a jerk anyway. I’d say he deserved it, if he didn’t seem to find a strange fulfilment in his new vocation.” Her scowl deepened, and a crafty smile somehow slid across her features at the same time, a ridiculous expression which one so rarely sees outside of cartoons and melodramatic b-grade films. “Yes. What’s the time? Yeah, I have an idea!” She wriggled her backpack out from behind the couch and made for the door. *** Forty minutes and a costume change later, Nyx secured the final knot and rose, patting her hair to ensure it was all flowing in a desirable direction as she turned to survey the city below. There was not a lot of purchase up here- she was very glad that she’d bought those new grips for her shoes after falling into that pond. It had been horribly undignified, and she really didn’t want to ever find herself in a similar situation. Nyx tested them by quickly pacing a few metres one way, then back, and then stopped and squinted into the middle distance. Yes. Good. She checked her earpiece and idly tapped in her rival's number, remembering to alter her accent as she did- just in case anybody of importance overheard. “Do I have your undivided attention? It is I, Crown Princess Nyx Nightshadow of Etheria. I have here two of your prized fans-“ She turned, and motioned for the couple tied to the tracks to speak. The young woman wailed like a banshee. The young man broke down in hysterics: “Please! Save us from this madness! I want to live!” All she’d had to do was promise them their hero’s autograph, if they helped her to lure said hero to this location. Peasants. My handwriting is infinitely superior. Nyx silenced them with another wave of her hand, and turning away in an effort to prevent the man’s giggling from reaching the earpiece, spoke once more: “I stand atop the elevated train track where it soars over the abandoned petting zoo. The next train ought to be ten minutes in arriving. You know what you must do.” At the very least, she could make them late for the first day of the new season. At best, maybe she could break their kneecaps or something- put them out for a little longer. Either way this was better than sitting around watching undeserving amateurs taking the glory which was rightfully hers- in HD. Breaking in a new character is always a bit scary. I've been working on this half the day, hope you like it!
Anyway, Nyx decides that watching a bunch of people she doesn't like do the stuff she used to enjoy doing isn't the best way to pass the time. So she hatches a (very basic, kinda lame) plan to make her ultimate rival late for the start of the new season, by tying some of their fans to the train track and ringing them up on their private number, which they've neglected to change. She puts on her best 'alien' accent for the task at hand, you guys better appreciate the effort she's putting in here, gawsh.
Obviously this post is intended for said rival- who I'm not tagging, because we both think it'll be cool if they're revealed by their reply- but anybody else who might be passing by and express some vague concern about a suspicious-looking individual wandering around on the train line is perfectly welcome to chime in!
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Post by Draco on Sept 12, 2016 3:21:46 GMT -5
Kizuna was laying his head on the desk of his office. He groaned loudly from the pain he felt in his back and head. Today wasn't that stressful of day, but it was pretty normal, and it wasn't even late yet... His door opened and a nurse walked in with a bag, placing it in front of his face. His eyes snap open to stare at the bag, the shadow under the eyes very noticeable. "Your Gyro City gyro burger and fries, extra tzatziki sauce on the side, just how you like it," she took a step back, "Oh and Doctor, you're still in your... Other uniform." Groaning again as he lifted his head and began to open the bag of food. He all ready had his mouth in the burger when the nurse pointed out his uniform, his hero uniform. He shrugged it off, "Not like it's a secret." The nurse put her hands on her hips, "It's not that professional, but it's fine." She then turned and walked out the door. Kizuna looked at his doctor clothes hanging over a small couch. Then he looked down at his hero uniform. A bit casual, with the black shirt and pants, a teal and red utility belt to hold some of his supplies. He looked around the room for a moment and spotted his yukata coat on the ground, the black and teal gradient into white, and the jagged scar mark on the back laid on the floor next to his desk. He guessed he must have started to change clothes before he passed out at his desk. He leaned back in his chair as he dipped a fry into the tzatziki sauce. On the way to work he walked across a small shop being robbed. The old couple who ran it were all ready knocked to the ground, and the thief looting the cash register. It didn't take long to deal with him, he gave the old couple enough pain that when it was transferred to him he practically passed out. He tired the man up, gave the couple some medical attention, then was on his way before police even showed up. Picking up a napkin he wiped his faced and cleaned off his hands. Now he had a day of work at the small hospital he worked at. It wasn't one of the big ones, not that they didn't ask him to work for them, but he liked the smaller one. Plus he was able to leave more often. Which is something he thought he would be doing more of soon, what with the new season of Hero City starting up. Plus for reasons still unknown to him, he was actually popular. Kizuna sits in his office at the small hospital he works, in most of his hero uniform, in pain.
A nurse delivers him a meal, a gyro burger and fries from Gyro City.
As he eats his food he thinks about his morning commute to work where he stopped a thief and helped a old couple. |
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Post by Gelquie on Sept 12, 2016 4:26:50 GMT -5
“...And that should take care of it,” said a young, lithe man, withdrawing his head from a hole in the wall that led to wiring and setting down the tools he has used. “Try turning it on now, it should work.” The man didn't look up as the woman nodded and left the room, his hazel eyes scanning the wires in front of him as he rested his chin upon the back of his hand, a contemplative look upon his face. He then shook his head and relaxed his pose, just in time to hear the TV turn on in the other room and to hear footsteps returning. “It worked!” came the voice of the one who left as she walked back into the room. “Finally, it's working again! To think I had waited so long to call!” “Glad to hear it,” the man said, grabbing a nearby panel and fitting it over the hole before taking a screw and screwdriver to it, beginning to screw it into place. “Don't hesitate to call when something like this happens; it's usually very fixable.” “Maybe to you,” the woman teased gently. “Well, it's my job,” the man said with a shrug. “Doesn't mean everyone can do it.” “Hmm, true. At least I know who to call. Mr... ...uh...” “Gordan. Gordan Page,” the man filled in for her flatly as he reached for another screw. “I'll give you my business card when I'm done here.” “Ah good, that should help; I'm terrible with names. Seriously though, thank you. With the newest season about to come on, I was worried I'd miss the action! Or anything with Glitch! The way he zips about, going at his own pace literally! It's amazing to see it on screen, but one time I caught it in person, and... it was even better.” She laughed. “You can tell who I'm rooting for this season.” Gordan's mouth curved into a thin smile, as he screwed in another hole. “Oh, for sure,” he commented. “...You've got good taste.” “Ah, you another fan of his?” the woman asked him. “You could say that. He's got an... incredible skillset.” “Oh, I know. It's so fun to watch, but I also like listening to what he says on the confession cam, trying to figure him out a bit more. How else do you get to know your heroes? Anyway, I look forward to what he does this season.” “...Yes, as do I,” Gordan said simply as he finished fitting the panel. He slid the screwdriver into his tool belt and stood to his full height, revealing him to be moderately tall in spite of his lithe form. He brushed some dust off of his dull electrician's uniform before pulling off his rubber gloves and putting them on his belt. “Anyway, I need to head out. So...” “...Right, the payment. Here,” she said, handing over a small wad of money. Gordan took a moment to count it, his sandy, tawny colored fingers carefully sorting through it all before he nodded and slipped the amount into his pocket. “Yup, there we are then. If you need my help again, just give me a call. If I'm out, I'll get to you as soon as I can.” “Sure thing. Thanks again! People like you can be the real heroes sometimes. Now, back to my day off.” The woman showed Gordan out, and the woman gave a friendly wave before shutting the door. Gordan gave a half-hearted wave until she was out of sight, then he sighed and treked on, adjusting his pack to make himself more comfortable as he strode down the street. ”...Me, a real hero,” he thought. He let out a short, sharp exhale that had a tinge of a laugh, but otherwise was silent as he made his way to the train station. Along the way, though, he found himself standing before some food venues. Not that it was a surprise that he had found himself there; after residing in Hero City for the past year, he had figured out the lay of the land. But still, he was hungry, and it made him pause between the shops. Although then there were other things to do, other matters to attend to... ...They weren't so urgent; that he couldn't get something to eat first. If all else failed, he could get it to go. He just had to decide where to go. On one side of the street was a gyro shop, the other a shawarma shop... He liked the food of both shops well enough, but then he was always stuck between which one to pick, assuming he didn't just decide to throw his hands up and walk to some other food shop out of spite. But he didn't want to spend too long deciding either. If he had to be on the move again soon, then between a shawarma and a gyro... ”...A gyro's less messy, and faster to devour,” he decided before he walked into the gyro shop. Unfortunately, it seemed rather crowded, with all these hooded figures taking up space at every table, trying to blend in but ultimately all looking like a typical hero or wannabe hero waiting for their opportunity. As one got used to hero city, it got easier to spot the heroes; all you had to do was look for the ones with extra clothing, the baggier the better. …He looked down at his own clothes, which, come to think, did seem a little baggy on him, just by nature of not getting a perfectly fitting uniform. Would anyone think of him as an incognito hero based on those garbs? Well, whatever made people bother him the least, at least for now. Maybe one day... Well, that was another time. He glanced across the street only to find people also swarming the shawarma shop. ”Is everyone hungry right now?” he mused to himself. He sighed, taking a moment to muss up his dark hair before he forced himself to stride up to the counter. All he wanted was food, so the sooner he got it, the better. Then he could go anywhere else. “I'll have a standard gyro and a lemonade,” he told the person at the counter, taking some money from out of his pocket. “And I'll have it to go.” He paid for the food before glancing at the TV and around the restaurant, waiting with restrained impatience for his order. Gordan Page is quite the helpful handyman, and just finished repairing the electric at someone's house so they could watch their favorite shows! After going on about the resident's favorite hero and how she looks forward to seeing him in the next season, Gordan takes his leave. He decides to make a quick stop for food to eat on the way to where he's going next, and he grumbles about the 'incognito' heroes in his head before going into the gyro restaurant and placing his order to go. ( Coaster ) Anyone is welcome to bump into them. (For whatever reason people may want to talk to a freelance handyman on his break.) ((All appearance stuff is subject to change if I don't like it.)) |
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Post by Celestial on Sept 12, 2016 6:42:39 GMT -5
"So, the new season of Hero City is about to start? How exciting for you!" The younger woman perched upon the chair at the opposite end of the table took a sip of her tea, her pinky finger raised upwards, before placing the bone china cup back on its saucer and smiling. "Oh yes, quite. I simply cannot wait for the program to begin. William has a lot of plans," she paused. "Mind you, I am not quite sure what sort of plans yet, aside from bringing in that pop singer, but I am certain they will be spectacular." "Well, I shall be watching, dear, and your father will be too. He calls me after each episode you're in to talk about how proud he is and how he's glad you still are on form with your technique. You know what he's like," the other woman pulled a tiny screwdriver out from behind her ear and began to fiddle about inside an object that, at a glance, looked like an umbrella. "Mother, are you still not quite finished with that?" the young woman chimed, her voice carrying a small peal of laughter. "Now, now, Tabitha, would I ask you to rush through one of your librettos or sing an aria with its melody sped up? Like your music, engineering takes time," came the chiding reply while the other woman waggled the screwdriver like the finger of a naughty child. "Be honest, mother, did you only start work upon it a fortnight ago again?" Tabitha asked, sighing and picking up a biscuit from the tray on the table. "Goodness, no! I started the key repairs a month in advance," the older woman exclaimed before looking away, down into the mechanism. "And part of it was not my fault: they have us working overtime with the mithium. It's all very exciting, and very secretive, as I am sure you can imagine." "Yes, quite," Tabitha dunked her biscuit into the remains of tea, taking a delicate bite. "However, the umbrella is vital to my performance. I can rely on the skills father taught me but your invention is vital for my defence," she said once she had chewed and swallowed. "That's why I only have the smallest little bits to fix, dear. Only little things..." her mother paused, biting her tongue and narrowing her eyes through her spectacles as she fiddled with the tiny screw. "Aaaand, there! Done," she shut the tiny hatch fitted on to the umbrella's handle and took the thing in her hands, pressing the button to open it. The umbrella opened without a moment of delay, creating a flexible but sturdy canopy: reinforced against bullets and bladed weapons and able to fasciliate gliding if necessary. Smiling as she admired her handiwork, the woman closed the umbrella and presented it to Tabitha. "Here. Only the finest for my girl," she finally took a sip of her own tea as Tabitha took her weapon. "Go out there and wow them like you so love doing!" "Oh you know I will!" Tabitha exclaimed, draining the last of her drink. "Thank you, mother!" "It's my pleasure, darling," her mother reached for the tea pot. "Would you care for a top-up?" *** She left her mother's house much later, her umbrella and a box of home-made biscuits in tow. Tabitha adjusted her overcoat to fit neatly over her skirt and straightened her wide-brimmed hat, making sure the flower upon it faced to the right. Her heels clicked as she walked down to the station and took the train into the centre of the city. On the way, she passed by the old theatre, a place that, with its round form and baroque plaster sculptures, stood out from the surrounding glass and steel of Heraclia. Nevertheless, Tabitha could not imagine a better workplace. It was only a shame they had scheduled her next opera performance, the lead role of Violetta in La Traviata while the season of Hero City was running, but it just meant she had to be careful to maintain her voice. She had done this before; she was confident she could do it again. And who knows, perhaps some young people will be encouraged to go see her opera after seeing her on Hero City? Getting out in the centre, the young woman walked briskly in the direction of Hero City Network, swinging her umbrella lightly and enjoying the click it made as it struck the pavement. People stared, as people do, but Tabitha soaked up their stares like a sponge. Having been on Hero City for six years and having performed on stage for even longer- though only five years professionally- attention did not bother her. In fact, she relished it. So much so that she did not bother with masks or secret identities: Tabitha Kingsley was enough. What was the point of performing if nobody knew who you were? She soon spotted a familiar face emerging from the network building. Nobody else wore that blond ponytail or such a serious expression. William Sinclair, head of the network, was not one to be approached lightly but Tabitha was never one to be intimidated by anyone. "Hello Mr. Sinclair!" she waved with one gloved hand as she came up to him, smiling. "Out for a stroll? Lovely weather we are having for it," she held out the box that she was carrying under her arm. "Would you care for a biscuit? I am aware it is not the most exquisite accompaniment to a good cigarette but you are still welcome to one." Meet Tabitha. She chats with her mother over a spot of tea as said mother fixes up her umbrella. Afterwards, she goes back into the centre of Heraclia, passing exposition about her day job on the way, before Celes decides to take interaction bait and throws her at Bill ( Shinko). Tabitha offers him a biscuit. |
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Post by Reiqua on Sept 12, 2016 7:32:19 GMT -5
Miss Marković smiled as her students filed past her into the classroom. There was an excited buzz to the chatter this morning, and it wasn't hard to guess why. A new season of Hero City always brought this kind of a buzz to Heraclia. When Miss Marković moved to the front of the room, the chatter died down and two dozen cheery faces turned in her direction. “Good morning 3M!” she chirped in the brightest voice she could muster. Instantaneously, a wave of intense dull swept over the class. “Gooooood Mooooorniiiiiiiing Miiiiiiiiss Maaaaaaaarkoooooviiiiiiiić,” they droned in unison, before returning to their regular, tolerably cheery selves. Miss Marković sighed inwardly. One of these days, she promised herself, she would trick them into giving a more enthusiastic response to that greeting. But today was not that day. “Well 3M,” she addressed the class, “today we've got something very special coming up. Does anyone know what it is?” Some of the class looked confused, others raised a hand to have a guess. “Yes Riley?” “The new season of Hero City is starting,” he said with affected sincerity, punctuating each word with both hands, “and you're gonna let us watch it in class!” he finished triumphantly, pointing hopefully at his teacher. Miss Marković nodded encouragingly at him. “Yes, Riley, the new season of Hero City is about to start up, and,” – the class caught its collective breath – “we will be watching some sections of it in class,” she smiled. “Oh yeah!” exclaimed Fletcher standing up in his seat and pointing both hands at the ceiling in exhilaration. Riley twisted in his seat to exchange a look of stunned excitement with Harold, Briana leaned across the table to whisper something to Lucibelle, and even Jo looked up from whatever she had been doodling, her expression alight with interest. They had not expected this. Miss Marković allowed herself a moment to enjoy the children's enthusiasm before bringing them back to task. She took up the keyboard from her desk and, turning to face the whitescreen, typed up the prompts for their first writing task. Five minutes later, the class had all retrieved their writing books and their pencil cases and had set to work. As Miss Marković wandered past the Blue table, she saw Briana's composition, which she had entitled “Hero City is the best.” “I love Hero City because DUDE BRO is realy hot and I like to wotch him being a superhero,” she had written. Miss Marković thought she had a fairly shrewd idea what the majority of Briana's composition would be about. At the Green table, Marrick was predictably having trouble with the task. He looked up as the teacher passed. “How do you spell invisible, miss?” he asked. Miss Marković sank gracefully to kneel on the carpet beside him and began talking him through the process of sounding out the word. Twenty minutes later when the bell rang for recess, Marrick's composition read: For Marrick, this was a small triumph. Miss Marković has a class who are pretty excited about the upcoming Hero City season! |
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Post by Jayeee on Sept 12, 2016 12:08:04 GMT -5
“CUT! I’m gonna need to take five and recharge. We can continue this in a bit!” DUDE BRO™ breathed a sigh as he stood up from the ground, giving a quick wink to the child whose party he had been performing at and swatting a large balloon out of the way as he did so. “Mummy, why was he dancing like that with my Number 9 balloon?” a girl asked, wiping her eyes. When her mother didn’t answer, the girl tugged on her dress. “What? Oh! He was thrust- I mean just dancing for you, sweetheart. Now Mummy’s going to sit down for a moment and catch her breath.” DUDE BRO™ coughed and adjusted his golden cape in front of the small crowd. “And we’re ready again. Okay, ACTION!,” he called out before flourishing and swiping his cape around him. “Well children, DUDE BRO™ needs to depart for now. But fear not, because you can always find me on HERO CITY!” Before the adoring parents could accost him, he dashed out of the house he’d given the privilege of receiving his visit. After all, Hero City needed his presence; he was only the greatest superhero to ever grace Heraclia! On second thought, that wasn’t the only reason his presence was needed. With barely a second passing by, he’d appeared back in the quaint kitchen and handed out a small metallic device to all the women in the room. “Just a little something to use in case you’re ever in danger. It’ll alert me - totally rad, right! Or maybe even just for a… special visit.” He bit his bottom lip seductively. Many of the women let out gasps, and one even dropped to her knees. In truth, the devices were used as markers. When he’d acquired enough women, he could initiate Step 2 of ‘Operation Woo-Dem-Girls-And-Then-Send-Them-All-Back-Home-To-Cook-Me-Some-Stuff-Because-I’m-Running-Out-Of-Food-That-The-Last-Ones-Made-Me-And-That-Protein-Powder-Won’t-Sprinkle-Itself-Brah’ (He’d come up with the ingenious name himself). Step 2 consisted of sending down transfer pods to remove all the women and take them back to Mancandia. “Oh, and if you’re wondering where I keep all of those, I store them in here-” He pulled on and snapped the waistband of the gold speedos he was wearing. (Over a pair of white tights, of course. Hero City was a family show, and it had been a condition for allowing him onto it in the first place. A small price to pay, given that the tights were still optional during his… other performances. With a final salute to the crowd, he once again raced out of the house. There was never any rest for Hero City’s leading man; always so many publicity videos to shoot; damsels to save; men to reluctantly rescue. In truth, DUDE BRO™ didn’t really understand the whole Hero City concept. All he knew was that it was being broadcast to the world. Maybe even the galaxy. When he’d arrived on the planet half-way through the previous season, it hadn’t taken long before there were calls for him to be introduced in the future. So of course he had said yes. The public loved him, and he loved being loved. Except that what even was a 'season'? Surely the show just filmed him every hour of the day. He could see the flash of metal every now and then in the distance or spot a cleverly hidden camera attached to lampposts, so obviously he always had to be prepared. There was no rest for the universe’s premiere superhero. It took only a couple of seconds for DUDE BRO™ to reach the gyro shop from the suburbs of Heraclia. He zipped in and stopped next the counter with a grin. “This looks like a pretty good place for a photo-op,” he announced. Gyro City was known throughout the city, even if he never really ate there himself; far too fancy and lacking in that protein powder that he liked served in everything he ate. DUDE BRO™ could already hear them muttering around the restaurant, mostly in disbelief that such a high profile hero would appear before them, some even vocally wishing that he’d give them one of his special dances. “And...ACTION! Hey there folks, don’t forget to tune into Hero City, airing now. And forever!” He thought of this sentence for a while. “Actually, scratch that. Just keep rolling, i’ll think on my feet.” He straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. “Hero City features me: DUDE BRO™! So make sure you tune in. Those bad guys don’t stand a chance, yo!” DUDE BRO™ nodded to himself satisfactorily and muttered, “Gold.” He glanced to his left and noticed a man wearing some sort of uniform, complete with a kind of utility belt. Definitely a fellow hero - although the costume was pretty drab. If he wasn’t already sworn to secrecy, he would have given him a card for the top hero costume designer. She was all the rage for pro hero outfitting, even if she did despise capes a little too much. With a grin at the man, he added, “And i’m not just talking about the speedos.” Yo dude BRO, I can write these myself? That's totally freakin' awesome! So I went into that party all like, POW! and then I danced that balloon so freakin' good that it was almost like, P OP!But then I wanted to get on outta there; can't let any of those viewers see me shacking up too close with other pretty ladies, so I went all ZIP!, after handing them that kidnapping device I got given to a bunch of them. So then I was all like, KACHING! I should definitely do a photo op in that guy Coaster 's Gyro City! I totally support local businesses, because then they give me free stuff all like, LIFE-SAVINGS!I was all like, ONE-LINER! and freakin' killed it. Then I noticed that dude Gelquie , so I shot him a witty comment. BROFICIAL! |
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Post by Shinko on Sept 12, 2016 15:30:06 GMT -5
The blonde glanced up, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Miss Kingsley. I don't know if I would call the near-freezing weather 'lovely' but to each their own." He flicked his cigarette, allowing the charred tip to drop off. "Good to see you punctual as always, at least. You're a bit early, none of the others are here yet. Hamming it up elsewhere, I suppose." He looked at the box, adding, "If you're offering I suppose I wouldn't refuse, so long as they aren't macadamia- I'm allergic." Once assured that the treats in question didn't contain any macadamia nuts, Sinclair did indeed take one. "It's good," he said politely. With a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, he added, "Don't think this is going to butter me up though, even if you are Natalie's favorite." He took a puff of his cigarette, politely aiming his face away from Tabitha as he exhaled. Lowering his voice, he went on, "I suppose it's sufficient bribary for me to warn you to keep an eye out, though. That Bizelli woman has been skulking about and she's needling. I still don't know who leaked to her about the Queen but I'd prefer tremendously if the premier wasn't entirely spoiled. A certain degree of foreknowledge is good for hyping, but revealing too much makes it almost not worthwhile to watch the show. That's why I leave these things to my marketing team and not some overcompensating reporter." He scowled. "I can't stop her talking to people and printing whatever she likes, but I can at least keep her from ambushing anybody and getting information while they're off-balance." Sinclair shows that he can be a decent person when approached politely, and accepts Tabitha ( Celestial) on her offer of a biscuit and commenting that she's his daughter Natalie's favorite. He then makes small talk, advising her to be on guard because he knows Beatrice Bizelli ( June Scarlet) is sniffing around and he doesn't want her spoiling his entire show before the network can air it. As an aside before anybody asks, the narratorpost doesn't really count as a post for me since it's less about my characters and more about establishing the setting for the round. This does however count as my second post on tis page so I won't post again until the page rolls over~ |
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Post by Moni on Sept 12, 2016 15:43:52 GMT -5
Fireflyman had been human for only a precious few years, and for the most part, it was a positive experience. He liked his newfound intelligence, the ability to form sentences and thoughts, and the sheer range of emotions he could feel. He liked the ability to smile and wave and talk to other people. He liked to solve puzzles and problems and build things he couldn't have even dreamed of before. Of course, with that increased brainpower came a downside: the occasional fit of existential despair. Sometimes, questions like "what is the point of existence?" and "why is there so much evil and stupidity in the world?" crossed Fireflyman's very human brain. These questions were mostly prompted by the sight of one "man." As Fireflyman entered Gyro City to grab an edible meal after a . . . dysfunction with his digestive system due to eating days-old food, he saw the malignant tumor on Earthly life that was DUDEBRO. For a few moments, Fireflyman seriously contemplated putting himself out of his misery with his weapon. Just pretend he isn't there, and he won't talk to you. And yet he still couldn't hide his visible irritation. He wished he'd lived as a normal firefly, living through the end of his two-month lifespan and dying peacefully of old age afterwards. After what seemed like an infinite amount of eternities (which, Fireflyman was told, was technically mathematically feasible), he finally made his way to the counter. The girl at the counter was new--or at least, Fireflyman hadn't seen her before. He was a regular at this restaurant, so he roughly knew the names and faces of the staff. Usually, it was Randy that manned the counter, but Fireflyman couldn't really see anything on account of the swarms of people that came here. "Oh, hello," he said in his warbling voice. "I . . . would like a chicken gyro with a side of rice and lemonade, Miss"--Fireflyman snuck a look at the cashier's name tag as his thin fingers clinched open his wallet, which contained only a small amount of cash and a half-finished gift card to Gyro City--"Miss Kaysha." Fireflyman heads down to Coaster 's Gyro City and is driven to despair by Jayeee. He makes an order at Gyro City! He kind of goes there a whole lot, so he recognizes some people, but not Kaysha. |
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Quintessential
