Quote:“I’ll be watching… and waiting…”

Because I'm just as indecisive as everybody else, I would appreciate people's suggestions between my final 2 candidates for my third character. Neither Sage nor Skeletor are big faction people, so I want my third character to tie into an organization better, (and also just having a hero character would be nice for a change.) I have compelling reasons and story ideas for both characters, but there are issues with the mechanical side of the writing that make me hesitate on both accounts.

Roy Mustang (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Eowyn (Lord of the Rings)

I want to combine my bases.

I currently have three bases in Coruscant

Hufflepunk Hideout- 1000 OM
Knife Ears Clubhouse- 1000 OM
T6 Rebel Hideout- 1000

I want to sell the Knife Ears Clubhouse and the T6 Rebel base.

I want to expand the "Hufflepunk Hideout" base and rename it the "Westside Hood".

The "Westside Hood" is a series of bases in Teir-5 connected by secret tunnels.

I want to make sure that I am allowed to rename and restructure the "Hufflepunk Hideout" Base, or if I have to stick with my original name and intention for the base. I also just kind of want approval on the base in general, as it is kinda weird.

Another weird thing is that I want to have Harlan's base connected via a secret tunnel as well.

************************************************************************************************************

The Westside Hood

Spent OM- 2000
Base-1000
Recall Station-1000


The Westside is both a clandestine criminal organization and a geographical location in Tier -5 Coruscant. The terms “Westside Hood”, “Neighborhood”, and “The Hood” all refer to physical areas where the Westside criminal organization has complete or near-complete control. This control is secretive, marked with graffiti and small intimidations rather than with walls and police. They try to change meeting spots as often as possible, learning how to pack up and go, otherwise they end up dead.

However, several locations through the Westside Hood have managed to stand the test of time. These locations are known individually as Clubhouses. At the center of these Clubhouse is the Main Headquarters of the Westside, called the Hufflepunk Hideout.

Luci has connected all the different Clubhouses with the Hufflepunk Hideout via magical graffiti doors and windows. Through the windows the different Westside Clubhouses can talk to any other Clubhosue instantly. Through the graffiti doors they can walk from their Clubhouse directly to or from the basement of the Hufflepunk Hideout.

The doors open into long stone tunnels covered in graffiti. These tunnels are actually outcroppings of the Graffiti Realm, accessible only through Westside Clubhouses. They serve no purpose except to connect different Clubhouses of the Westside Hood to the Hufflepunk Hideout. It takes at least ten minutes in the tunnels to lead from one door to another, and does not save any time compared to taking the streets, it just offers stealth and protection.

There are currently six locations connected by these graffiti doors. These locations are known collectively as the Westside Hood.



Clubhouse 1 - Main Headquarters- Hufflepunk Hideout



At the heart of the Westside Hood is the Hufflepunk Hideout.

A dilapidated clubhouse in the ghetto of Teir-5, known for it's raucous parties and as a hotspot for junkies and criminal, the Hufflepunk Hideout is the Central Headquarters of the Westside Hood. If the Hufflepunk Hideout falls, the magic connecting all the Clubhouses will dissapear.

It is also the home turf of the Westside Hufflepunk, a drug cartel made of Hogwarts alumni allied with the Westside.

Since Luci has started living there, the abandoned house in Teir-5 had been slowly warping into a surreal Escher-like labyrinth of hallways and stairs. Doors lead mysterious places, stairways shifting when you aren't watching them., it's bigger on the inside than on the outside.

The interior of the house is covered in constantly moving graffiti. This graffiti is not just Luci's, but also the Hufflepunks, who Luci taught to communicate by drawing the magical paintings. Luci favors the Hufflepunk Hideout because she can see all the graffiti-news as soon as possible.

The Hufflepunk Hideout also has a Recall Station in the basement.


Recall Station

Luci has painted a door in the Hufflepunk Hideout that can be opened from anywhere in Coruscant.

For this description, the term Westsider means someone with access to the base.

In order to use the Westside Recall Station, a Westsider needs to paint a door. It doesn't have to be a fancy door, or even have straight lines, it just to be large enough to step through.

That Westsider then needs to paint an eye. It doesn't have to be a good painting, it can just be an icon of a human eye, or even a rough circle. After ten minutes, IF the Westsider remains perfectly still, the eye will blink.

A psychedelic eye with shifting colors will stare at the Westsider, and decide if they are allowed in the Base. If they have been to the Base before, the lines around the door will grow with bright light, allowing the Westsider to step through the door and into the Hufflepunk Hideout basement.

Contrary to urban myth, it is not actually Luci's eye that is looking at you.


The Hufflepunk Hideout

[spoiler]

Interior Pics An inside-out view from the Hufflepunk Hideout

Kitchen Sometimes the graffiti code is hard to decipher. This one warns of increased police activity on the Eastside. Also visible are magical graffiti Wards.




Hallway This time the code is easier to decypher. It's a warning from a rival gang.




The TV Room What the TV room lacks in television, it makes up for in windows and drug use. This graffiti code warns of a vigilante stirring up trouble.



[/spoiler]





Clubhouse 2- Knife Ear Tree House



Stationed in one of the tallest trees in central park in Teir-5 Coruscant, the Westside Knife Ear Warriors keep their treehouse as secret as they can. This treehouse doubles as an armory, but the elves try to reduce foot traffic to the clubhouse whenever possible. It has electricity, running water, and a recording studio. They have a kitchen, but they only serve vegan food. It also has a high-tech shooting range, with a variety of weapons and targets and exercises.




Clubhouse  3- The Deathblades Jungle Gym



On the opposite side of side of central park from the Knife Ears is a truly fantastical outdoor playground called Phaser Street Park. There is playground equipment, swings and slides and jungle gyms, but also trampolines, skateparks, ziplines, and even more dangerous activities. The playground is so popular that there is a thriving tourist district built around it.

Beneath the banal exterior of tourists and families lurks a criminal element. The Westside Deathblades, a gang of orphan samurai children, claim this playground as their territory.

In particular they claim a massive three-story jungle gym, which is bigger on the inside than on the outside. Inside the jungle gym is a dizzying array of winding tunnels leading to ball pits, rockclimbing walls, and even video-game rooms. Many of the Deathblades live in this piece of playground equipment, which comes impossibly equipped with electricity, running water, and other amenities. It is said that kids get lost down there for years, but the Deathblades aren’t afraid.

[spoiler]

Interior Pics Here are some pics form inside the Deathblades Jungle Gym.


It's bigger on the inside than on the outside.


For serious ninja training only


More ninja training!


The Gaming Room

[/spoiler]





Clubhouse 4- Chirpa’s Garage




In the heart of the westside is a high-tech chop-shop run by the wanted criminal Chirpa the Ewok. A master-mechanic, Chirpa has turned his considerable expertise towards the Westside. At Chirpas garage his team of mechanics strip down stolen vehicles and tech and weapons, and then either sell them or rebuild them to help in their fight against the Orc Mafia. Without the steady supply of vehicles, tech, and weapons that Chirpa’s garage produces, the Westside would have been dead a long time ago.

Chirpa’s Garage appears to be a simple junkyard and repair shop from the front, underneath the repair shop is a huge basement, where the chop-shop is always working overtime. Here you will find nearly every type of vehicle or weapon in Coruscant; if the Westside stole it, it probably comes through here at some point.

Chirpa also has living quarters beneath his repair shop, as well as food, electricity, and water.

[spoiler]


Some droids repairing a car.


A modded armored car after it's last repair, ready for another car-to-car gunfight


Really don't know what those military looking guys are doing there, but this is a view of the higher-tech part of the garage, where croids and weapons are built.


Pretty comfy underground kitchen


A droid awaits repairs.

[/spoiler]

Clubhouse 5- Kolgoth’s Bail Bonds and Dojo


In the southern end of the westside, there is a very shady bail bonds run by a Klingon gangster name Kolgoth the Mighty.

In the back of the building, with an entrance on the other side, is a dojo run by a Klingon gangster named Kolgoth the Mighty.

This is the headquarters of the Mighty Westside Klingons, a collection of civilian Klingons who have joined the Westside solely in opposition to Orc Mafia, and not to further their own criminal agenda. They use their legitimate business to launder money from the Westside, and in the case of Kolgoth’s Bail Bonds and Dojo, use their legitimate buisness to conduct all sorts of unsavory gang activity.

The Bail Bonds office is stark and well protected, just a simple room with a few Klingons behind a steel cage. Klingon bounty hunters can often be seen swaggering around with guns.

The dojo is large, with hardwood floors and excellent lighting, and mirrors on every wall. There are also weapons lining the walls and in large wooden chests around the dojo. The dojo can also be converted to a shooting range.



Connected Bases

Prohibition Alley

Harlan Higgs, Boss of the Gentlemen Jacks street gang, has opened a casino, and has agreed to have it connected to the Westside Hood.

Unlike the other parts of the Westside Hood, Prohibition Alley keeps its graffiti doors locked. THis means that Westsiders cannot enter or exit Prohibition Alley through the tunnels unless given express permission, and similarly the Gentleman Jacks cannot enter any Westside Hood without express permission.

Currently the Westside and the Gentleman Jacks have an uneasy alliance, and have yet to build up the trust nescessary to allow each other into their bases.

LINK TO HARLANS BASE

His eyes snapped open, and he lurched up into a sitting posture.

Cold tile under his hand, felt through torn and shredded gloves. Slick with blood and something else, icy-cold against his skin. Ragged breaths sucked in and wheezed out, the resulting rise and fall of his chest sending red-hot lines spidering over his entire torso. Complete, unremitting agony. The crippling, physical pangs and knives of discomfort were bad enough on their own. There was, however...a further complication. A devilishly potent headache, pulsing in time with the blood in his veins.

A sharp, piercing noise. Echoing through his surroundings. Ringing. Quiet enough, in most circumstances, but with the deafening silence of his current locale, coupled with the splitting pain clawing through his head... It might as well have been blared for all the world to hear, from a speaker right next to his head.

The extreme pain of his awakening, and the sudden nature of it left him reeling. Unsteady hands fumbled across the floor, feeling out something to take hold of, some kind of support. Something to help get him upright, get his feet under him again. It took him several minutes of blind reaching before his half-numb fingers curled around...something. The leg of some kind of table, or a shelf maybe, judging by the feel of it.

Carefully, slowly, he hauled himself up. His shoes slid and skittered in the mess on the floor, blood and something slimy green. Traction was a tough thing to come by, and it left him desperately clutching and holding tight to his support. A shelf, he came to find out as he slowly drew himself up to a more or less stable position, legs squarely under him again. Full of an assortment of all manner of smashed and overturned bottles, jars, beakers and racks of vials and flasks. Their myriad contents had all been spilled and splattered over the shelving and wall, pooling down it to add their diverse colors to the mess on the floor.

Thankfully, long since dried and evaporated. Aside from the stains and color, the mystery chemicals had nothing to offer that might prove a risk. No noxious fumes or pesky corrosive puddles to risk having wallowed around in.

Of course, something like that would have been the least of his worries, as he soon came to find out. Much more distracting, and immediate in its risk, was an announcement that rang out. A computerized voice, some sort of recording, spoke through a crackle of static and interference. "T-minus ten minutes until detonation."

"Detonation...?" he mumbled, staggering away from the shelving unit. Slipping and sliding over the slick floor, he caught himself on a table, taking a moment to steady his breathing. "What is the...meaning of this?" He had no clue where he was, how he had gotten here, or what any of this was about. But if there was a detonation already in progress... It was safe to say he was in deep, deep trouble.

His raggedy gloved hand, clutching at the edge of the table, slowly curled into a fist. In the scuffed, stained steel of the work surface, he would barely see a reflection. Even through it all, two dulled points of red light glimmered. "...very well, then...time to make my escape..."

He pushed off from leaning against the table, standing up with great effort. First step: find out where he was escaping from. A map or diagram of the place, maybe...this place had the feel of some kind of underground research facility. Bound to be one around.

It was...it was hot.

That was the single most recurring, all-encompassing thought that continued to circulate through the diminutive azure alien's mind. Sitting here, in the shade (such as it was) and yet still feeling no better than actually being out in the direct sunlight. What made matters worse, of course, was the simple fact that she had somehow or other managed to completely forget what she'd come here for at all. In true stubborn fashion, she had of course decided not to go anywhere else until she recalled just what her purpose for coming here was.

Something... Something... Following someone. Or searching for someone. Trying to find someone for a meeting. Or something. Trying to find something? Something important. She knew it was important. It was important enough that she'd ventured out here into the desert for it. Important enough that she'd managed to track down a town that didn't have a name. That was pretty hard, and she wasn't all that great at finding things. Not without some sort of convenient radar-thing to point her literally right where said thing was.

Thankfully, though, she'd developed a habit lately. Well, "lately" was a generous word. And for that matter, so was "habit". She barely remembered to do it half the time. But now and then, she did as some advice was given to her and used her scouter to take recordings. Video logs, she was almost sure it was called. Serve as reminders, and things like that.

Brushing sand off of her scarf with one hand, and carefully tapping through the holographic interface of her scouter's in-built computer with the other, she was currently checking over said video logs. Trying to find some clue about why she'd come out here to this desert.

There was a whole lot of stuff about a bunch of things she sort of remembered. Then some stuff about Dante's Abyss, which she didn't really think she'd ever forget. And...oh. Oh! OH RIGHT! Star pieces. Those things. There was supposed to be one that fell in every verse, except Coruscant. Some snooping and rumors around the dataverse were hinting that some of them had already been found and picked up, in some verses.

"But not here!" the little blue creature voiced aloud.

And she hopped up, going from sitting on her knees to standing in the blink of an eye. The old cloak she was sitting on, which was so buried under sand and errant wind-blown dust it had started to do a very good impression of a pile of sand itself, was pulled out from under her in a flourish. She tugged it up, over her shoulders, and fastened it in place. The hood came up, over her head, and after a bit of struggling with the cloth her scarf was tugged up from around her neck. A quick flipping around and re-tying and it was secured, over her face with the darker inner side facing outward. Good and safe from the sand now. Or...at least that was her thoughts. She was a simple creature that way.

Now back up, properly covered and mentally ready for the task ahead of her, Graowr turned her focus toward the part of things she was so very, very bad at. Information gathering. The...the other place, the one opposed to Coruscant and the Empire, they were also looking into the star pieces. They'd sent out some...astro people? Star scientists. People who watched stars. Astronomers! to look for clues and figure out where the pieces had actually landed.

In her own drawn-out, clueless and overall needlessly roundabout way, she eventually turned up something productive and useful. Here, right here, in the Endless Dunes, right here in the Town With no Name, there'd been a little expedition from the Kingdom spotted. Whether it was the astronomer person or not, the little bundle of blue had no idea. But the possibility that it might not be never really crossed her mind. It was too much of a coincidence to be anything else, she thought. It would be them. Or they were here with them, and they'd know where they were. That was all there was to it, in her mind.

Now it was just...all a matter of finding them.

Graowr's status as an agent of the Empire didn't seem to have won her many friends, here in this town. No outright enemies, from what she could tell (which wasn't much, the naive little thing), but definitely a distinct shortage of anything approaching 'helpful' by a large margin. Likely didn't help that she was about as socially capable as a box of glass ornaments falling down a flight of stairs.

None of that was going to stop her. None of it was even going to slow her down! They were here, somewhere in this time. And if she had to scour the entire town and check every inch of it herself to find them, she would. She'd covered a lot more ground before, and under some pretty strict time constraints, too. This would be nothing by comparison.

Although...as the sun was starting to go down and it was rapidly beginning to get darker...she sort of hoped she was right. She really, really hoped she was right. Not that she really had anything against the desert at night or anything, but... Well. This place just didn't seem like a good place to be lost in at the best of times. Especially at night. Some unsettling things that made it seem kind of spooky, even with its relative level of civilization and 'safety' compared to the rest of the Endless Dunes.

....and maybe she did kind of have a few issues with the desert at night.

Quote:All word/character counts according to wordcounter.net
Word Count: 952
Character Count: 5,342

To-do list:
Ganondorf
Agent Smith
Bakugo
Major Armstrong
Buu

Dear Karl Jak

Well, first things first, let’s get the asskissing out of the way. I’ve got to say, I’m really digging your style. You seem to be the Omniverse’s numeral uno eccentric billionaire, and rather than letting that cash waste away in a vault somewhere you spend it on these wonderful gladiatorial events. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I admired that about you. But at any rate, enough about you, I’m sure you're wondering just who in the hell I am.

Well darling, I’m Kuzuru, the leader of The Ashen Blades. If you haven’t heard of us, our M.O. is pretty straightforward -- we kill people for money, and we’re damned good at it. Now why in the hell would a mercenary group decide to contact you rather than the other way around? I’m glad you asked. You see my raison d'être, so to speak, is violence in all of its wonderful forms. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not the kind of guy that would go out and slay the defenseless. I’m not a savage, my taste for bloodshed is refined, however pompous that may sound. I’m really only interested in primes.

So that leads me to the crux of this e-mail. I want to arrange a tournament, similar to the Colosseum bouts in Camelot, but on a more grandiose scale. You seem like that kind of man that could not only help me achieve this, but would be directly interested in such a competition. Now I don’t quite have all of the details hashed out, but I was thinking that we could use Death Mountain as a location for the contest. Though I’m unsure of how feasible that would be, but I’m imagining tense battles over a pit of lava. We could bill it as something super gritty and badass, I’m sure all those edgy internet weirdos would eat it up.

At any rate, I’m rambling. I’ve attached my contact details below, so we can get in touch.

Love,
Kuzuru

P.S. And don’t worry, as much as I’d love to, I wouldn’t sully the fairness of the tournament by participating. I’m the kind of guy that’d be satisfied just by watching the thing unfold.

I figure that this is too big a discussion for the Q&EQ thread, so... yeah. I want to inquire about two "archetypes" of moves. I think they're a bit too broad to put into the Move Creation Workshop, but please do move it to that thread if I'm mistaken!


-Is possible to do "Puppet" type moves wherein the move user controls a puppet by its strings (like the Puppeteer ninjas from Naruto for instance), without making it an Assist? The main argument would be that the puppet is not capable of acting independantly of the user, and could have various disadvantages and limitations imposed to make it fair. Examples of that could be a maximum range of action, severable strings, the user receiving a portion of the damage dealt to the puppet and/or the user being unable to use most of their own moves while they control the puppet.

-Would "vehicle" types of moves or alt forms be permitted? For instance someone getting into a battle tank or fighter jet with according moves (cannons and such), and taking whatever damage the tank takes as well as getting tired out for using moves and moving, for whatever IC reason the user wants to make up.

I'm undecided on how I want to have powerups for Koola. Some are obvious but I don't know how I want to slot them into the tiers and some might not get used at all.

Here's what I'm thinking:

100% Power (1P)

Much like Frieza, T1 would be Koola reaching his "full" strength but being unable to hold it for long (SP usage). I like this because I think Koola's basic design is cool and I don't necessarily want to lose that when powering up. He'd basically get more muscle but otherwise look the same.

Final Form (FF)

His masked, spiky form. It's pretty awesome and iconic so it'll have to be included somewhere. It could be either T1 at 50% power and then T2 100% or just a T2.

Metal Koola (MK)

I like this form but I'm not sure if I want it as a powerup or an alternate form. Technically MK was stronger than Final Form in the movies so it makes me think it should be a powerup, but FF is cooler. This is probably the hardest one to work out. It'd be T2, or possibly T1.

Golden Koola (GK)

A long way away as a T3 and pretty much decided on any powerup path I take.

My layouts I've brainstormed are:

1) 1P > FF > GK
2) FF50% > FF100% > GK
3) FF > MK > GK
4) MK > FF > GK
5) 1P > FF > MK
6) 1P > MK > FF

I'm probably leaning mostly towards 1), 2) and 4) but I just can't decide. Any feedback would be awesome.

COLLEGE. THE FUTURE. THE LONG AND ARDUOUS ROAD THAT IS CALLED LIFE.

It scares the hell out of me. I found myself filling out the FAFSA today, and then looking at possible colleges, and I realized that I’m not ready, and I’m so frick frackin scared.

And so, I beg of you older, more wizened members of this holy site to give me some advice.

Does it get better?