KaiserElectric
Total Freakin Besties
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2007
- Messages
- 3,461
I think I might do a serious overhaul of my faction later today, but I still plan on remaining good.
Saviors of a Divided Nation: SuperIOT
- Thread starter Lighthearter
- Start date
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2008
- Messages
- 14,928
"You can't be serious."
"I'm deathly serious, my new friend." Jack Don Pop smiled. Him and Jordan Sparks became friends rather quickly in a way two people throwing bodies down an incinerator chute to destroy evidence could become friends. Jordan had also taken up his role of MTF-A commander quickly, assigning a black suit uniform that he says "builds confidence". Pop wanted to dismiss that as a silly plan, but remembered that their agents (err, minions) had largely been recruited from the "best of the best" of the urban gang population.
However, Jordan sounded surprised by Pop's new plan amazed him, but Jack had heard some rather startling ideas from Jordan. "I know that there are organizations popping up across the country. They're all dedicated to...whatever. World destruction, destroying supers, whatever. The point is is that they need money and a safe place to put th-"
"You want to start a bank." Jordan repeated.
"Yes."
"How?"
Jack checked his notebook where he had written all this down. "Super organizations would be allowed to store their money in our vault, which would be counted and maintained as a separate untouchable account, with there being 2% interest per....per round? Turn?"
Jordan and Pop looked at the fourth wall, then shrugged.
"Anyway, 2% interest and a withdraw fee of course."
"Why would anyone do that?"
"Because we'll sign a contract with them when we do. We'll make sure to let them know that if they have money in our bank, and don't owe us any money, LGO won't be behind any action against them. Then we can focus on security and make the bank tighter than my ex-wife's-"
"If there is 2% interest, how do WE make money off this deal?"
"Loans. We could offer loans for like, 5% interest or something like that."
"Let me get this straight. You're suggesting we become a bank."
"Yes."
"A bank with the highest security in the world?"
"Yes."
"That offers interest on accounts and loans and has a flat withdraw fee?"
"Yes, yes, and I was thinking a 2% withdraw fee actually, not flat."
"Why would ANYONE do that?"
"Simple. If you put a $1000 into our bank, then have $1020 in our bank and try to withdraw it all, it'll cost you $20. I consider this fair practice. And if you're taking out like, $10, that's fifty cents and I won't even be ass'd to collect."
"I don't think you should do that. Just go with a flat $10 withdraw fee."
"Err, fine."
"Ok, ok. You got this plan out. But what happens when someone doesn't pay back a loan?"
Jack Don Pop placed a caring hand on the man's shoulder, "Why, Mr. Sparks, that is where you come in. Have you read about Venice in the good ol' days where the Venetian rich white men would loan out money to RULERS?"
"No, I can-"
"And if those rulers don't pay, the Venetians would offer low-interest loans to those who do pay to beat the crap out of those who DON'T pay?"
"That sounds like a goo-"
"And when someone is beating up on someone who is still paying, but hasn't finished paying and owes a lot of money, Venice would try to make deals so, in the end, it gets paid? That's how we're going to be, Jordan. Not the most glamorous of jobs, but we're not here to take over the country, kill supers, and all that jazz. We're here to make money and remain out of all this mess."
"Oh, I get you. What do you plan on calling this bank?"
"The Glass-Sparks Bank of Supers?" suggested Jack Don Pop. Sounds good, right?
------
It isn't an IOT if I'm not running a bank. Simple system. You put money in the bank, 2% is added to your account, which I track, every turn. I maintain a spreadsheet and keep your money and my money separate. I also offer loans. Also means I'm Neutral Evil. Besides, wouldn't it be nice to keep excess cash somewhere else? Also a low withdraw fee of $10 per withdraw, which really isn't a lot in the grand scheme of things, eh?
There'll probably be a Platinum Club that has higher interest rates on the account and no withdraw fee.
Finally, as evidence by my handling of the Bank of England for a short time in MP3, even money I loan out of my own bank I pay back with interest. All are equal in the system. Except those who don't pay of course.
"I'm deathly serious, my new friend." Jack Don Pop smiled. Him and Jordan Sparks became friends rather quickly in a way two people throwing bodies down an incinerator chute to destroy evidence could become friends. Jordan had also taken up his role of MTF-A commander quickly, assigning a black suit uniform that he says "builds confidence". Pop wanted to dismiss that as a silly plan, but remembered that their agents (err, minions) had largely been recruited from the "best of the best" of the urban gang population.
However, Jordan sounded surprised by Pop's new plan amazed him, but Jack had heard some rather startling ideas from Jordan. "I know that there are organizations popping up across the country. They're all dedicated to...whatever. World destruction, destroying supers, whatever. The point is is that they need money and a safe place to put th-"
"You want to start a bank." Jordan repeated.
"Yes."
"How?"
Jack checked his notebook where he had written all this down. "Super organizations would be allowed to store their money in our vault, which would be counted and maintained as a separate untouchable account, with there being 2% interest per....per round? Turn?"
Jordan and Pop looked at the fourth wall, then shrugged.
"Anyway, 2% interest and a withdraw fee of course."
"Why would anyone do that?"
"Because we'll sign a contract with them when we do. We'll make sure to let them know that if they have money in our bank, and don't owe us any money, LGO won't be behind any action against them. Then we can focus on security and make the bank tighter than my ex-wife's-"
"If there is 2% interest, how do WE make money off this deal?"
"Loans. We could offer loans for like, 5% interest or something like that."
"Let me get this straight. You're suggesting we become a bank."
"Yes."
"A bank with the highest security in the world?"
"Yes."
"That offers interest on accounts and loans and has a flat withdraw fee?"
"Yes, yes, and I was thinking a 2% withdraw fee actually, not flat."
"Why would ANYONE do that?"
"Simple. If you put a $1000 into our bank, then have $1020 in our bank and try to withdraw it all, it'll cost you $20. I consider this fair practice. And if you're taking out like, $10, that's fifty cents and I won't even be ass'd to collect."
"I don't think you should do that. Just go with a flat $10 withdraw fee."
"Err, fine."
"Ok, ok. You got this plan out. But what happens when someone doesn't pay back a loan?"
Jack Don Pop placed a caring hand on the man's shoulder, "Why, Mr. Sparks, that is where you come in. Have you read about Venice in the good ol' days where the Venetian rich white men would loan out money to RULERS?"
"No, I can-"
"And if those rulers don't pay, the Venetians would offer low-interest loans to those who do pay to beat the crap out of those who DON'T pay?"
"That sounds like a goo-"
"And when someone is beating up on someone who is still paying, but hasn't finished paying and owes a lot of money, Venice would try to make deals so, in the end, it gets paid? That's how we're going to be, Jordan. Not the most glamorous of jobs, but we're not here to take over the country, kill supers, and all that jazz. We're here to make money and remain out of all this mess."
"Oh, I get you. What do you plan on calling this bank?"
"The Glass-Sparks Bank of Supers?" suggested Jack Don Pop. Sounds good, right?
------
It isn't an IOT if I'm not running a bank. Simple system. You put money in the bank, 2% is added to your account, which I track, every turn. I maintain a spreadsheet and keep your money and my money separate. I also offer loans. Also means I'm Neutral Evil. Besides, wouldn't it be nice to keep excess cash somewhere else? Also a low withdraw fee of $10 per withdraw, which really isn't a lot in the grand scheme of things, eh?
There'll probably be a Platinum Club that has higher interest rates on the account and no withdraw fee.
Finally, as evidence by my handling of the Bank of England for a short time in MP3, even money I loan out of my own bank I pay back with interest. All are equal in the system. Except those who don't pay of course.
TheLastJacobite
No Commies
I am most definitely in!
Rorschach's Journal: October 12, 1985- Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
Just kidding!
The Guild of Calamitous Intent- Evil
Organization Leader: Samuel Phillips
Location: South Beach, Miami, Florida
Super-
Name: Jackson "Jack" Wellington
Alias: Big Brain
Description: Jackson is of medium height and build, indistinguishable except for his brilliant blue eyes, his most notable physical feature.
Biography: The Wellington family (no relation to the Duke of) had always made a name for itself throughout history, be it through railroads (Edwin Wellington-1865-1913), bootlegging (Joshua Wellington- 1909-1967) or Internet start-ups (Michael Wellington- 1960-2007). When his parents died in a car accident in 2007, Jackson Wellington inherited the accumulated wealth that had been passed down for several generations. While not enough to allow him to make him a household name (like his former fling Kim Kardashian), it would have allowed him to live in comfort for the rest of his life. But, as a recently orphaned teenager, he had fallen in with the wrong crowd, getting mixed up with low level villainous organizations where his high intelligence meant he was always close to the top. Eventually, his last group (Killahzzz of West Chester County) had been absorbed by the Metropolitan League of Duplicity. As a new recruit slated for middle management, Jackson had used his accumulated vacation days from the KWCC to take a much needed sabbatical, just as the MLD was shut down by the Federal agents. Alone and without purpose, he was approached by Samuel Phillips on a beach in Miami and convinced to join the new Guild of Calamitous Intent.
Story-
Jackson "Jack" Wellington held the empty glass aloft with his left hand. The glass's former contents and the umbrella over him kept Jack cool despite the high temperature here in South Beach. His eyes surveyed his fellow beach goers, appreciating the extremely skimpy bikinis that were all too common. He smirked, thinking of a line from one of his favorite TV show "It was extremely hard to hide a gun in a bathing suit." As someone of a degree of importance in one of the leading criminal organization of the greater New York area, being able to ensure the people around him were unarmed had a great advantage. He frowned, noting that his glass was still empty.
"Franklin! If you don't get me a new Pina Colada ASAP, I swear to God I will grind your sad little face into the sand until I've worn out your all too prominent wrinkles!"
Even as he spoke, his manservant Franklin approached with a pitcher full of the frozen delicious blend of pineapple, coconut and rum. The old man's hand shook slightly as he filled the glass to the brim, producing a cherry from a special container he was required to carry at times such as these. This was the third generation of Wellington he had been paid to serve and (in his opinion) the most foul, but also the most willing and able to kill him, so he soldiered on, as he had done in that Hun camp during the War. Maybe, he would be saved by friendly conquest of the enemy, as he had all those years ago. "Anything else, sir?"
"No. But if this Pina Colada is even the slightest bit melted, I'll... I'll... I'll punish you in ways that even I can't even imagine!" Jackson sipped the frozen drink, marveling as he always did, that Franklin could work such miracles with a blender. He once more looked around. It had been three days since his last contact with New York City and while he wasn't exactly worried about that fact, he was a bit concerned. Someone at work always needed something and as the smartest member of the ill-named Killahzzz of West Chester County (now incorporated into the Metropolitan League of Duplicity), Jack had expected near constant phone calls from his new organization about how to make the transition smoother. The complete lack of contact meant something was wrong.
"Mr. Wellington?" the question seemed to come from thin air.
Jack's head whipped around, taking in the man that had somehow appeared to his right. He quickly took in the surrounding area, noting that the older man (garbed in an ostentatious Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, floppy hat and sandals) had actually made foot prints up to Wellington's chair. Jack breathed a slight sigh of relief. He'd dated a fellow supe once who had been a teleporter; her ability to be appear anywhere she chose, whenever she wanted had not gone well with her clingy nature. After the fourth time he'd woken up to find her standing over him in his barricaded apartment in the wee hours of the morning, Jack had decided to get rid of her. He'd eventually done so by telling her how a relative of his had died on the Titanic and how he wished he could recover her necklace (a family heirloom) that she had been wearing at the time the ship sank. Eager to please, she had teleported to the ship's final resting place, never realizing the pressure change would kill her long before she would have drowned to death. The following police inquiry had been minor; she was flightly, prone to disappearing and who would think to look for a body of a missing New York socialite at the bottom of the North Atlantic? Jack had quickly been ruled out as a suspect as the police had assumed Michelle had just left one city to suddenly appear in another as she always did. Murder was so much easier when you let the victims kill themselves.
"May I help you?" Jack asked, laying on the charm. He had thought about playing ignorant, but this was clearly someone who already knew to whom he was talking.
"I understand you are a member of the former Metropolitan League of Duplicity?" the Stranger asked.
"Former?" Jack responded with genuine interest in his voice. He'd only been gone a few days.
"Yes. The League was taken down yesterday by Federal agents. They shut down all known members and placed a complete stop on all communications by anyone they even thought was associated with the League. The only person they missed was the one called "Big Brain", a new member who no one seems to have ever seen without his mask on." The Stranger stared at Jack pointedly.
"Interesting. I've heard of this League as you called it. Bad people, terrible reputation. Glad to see they got what they deserved. What does that have to do with me?" Jack asked while his left hand had put down his Pina Colada and surreptitiously taken up the small throwing knife hidden under his chair.
"There will be no need for weapons, Mr. Wellington. If I were a Federal agent, I would have stopped you at the hotel, which has far fewer people than this beach. If I had wanted to kill you you would have been dead hours ago, when you got into the limo to go to the beach here without verifying the identity of the driver. " The Stranger spoke like an analyst, cold and precise or sports announcer poking holes in the play calling of the team he was watching.
Jackson was intrigued, despite his caution and sense of alarm. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because your father did. And his father trusted my father. For decades, our families and others have been working together to build something great. Your father's assassination..."
"Assassination?!?" Jackson was truly shocked.
"Yes. Assassination." The Stranger knelt down next to Jack and sighed. "Others found out about our plans and killed your father in hopes of stopping it. Surely, someone as smart as you didn't think you were the only Super in your family?"
Jackson blushed; he had had those exact thoughts. He had thought of his parents as simple people never capable of attaining true power, that his father had been a simple businessman who had gotten lucky backing the right horse right before the Internet Bubble burst. Seeing his facial expression, the Stranger shook his head sadly. "Your father was one of the most brilliant people in the world, more so because he was able to hide it so well. And your mother was ruthless beyond measure." A degree of fondness snuck into his voice. "You truly are their son."
Jackson could not believe what he was hearing, but these insights suddenly made parts of his childhood make sense. His family's wealth, their strange but fortunate business connection, his own powers. He once more eyed the Stranger up and down, easing the knife back into its sheath.
"What's your name and what do you want?"
The Stranger smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "My name is Samuel Phillips and I want to tell you about the Guild of Calamitous Intent."
Rorschach's Journal: October 12, 1985- Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
Just kidding!
The Guild of Calamitous Intent- Evil
Organization Leader: Samuel Phillips
Location: South Beach, Miami, Florida
Super-
Name: Jackson "Jack" Wellington
Alias: Big Brain
Description: Jackson is of medium height and build, indistinguishable except for his brilliant blue eyes, his most notable physical feature.
Biography: The Wellington family (no relation to the Duke of) had always made a name for itself throughout history, be it through railroads (Edwin Wellington-1865-1913), bootlegging (Joshua Wellington- 1909-1967) or Internet start-ups (Michael Wellington- 1960-2007). When his parents died in a car accident in 2007, Jackson Wellington inherited the accumulated wealth that had been passed down for several generations. While not enough to allow him to make him a household name (like his former fling Kim Kardashian), it would have allowed him to live in comfort for the rest of his life. But, as a recently orphaned teenager, he had fallen in with the wrong crowd, getting mixed up with low level villainous organizations where his high intelligence meant he was always close to the top. Eventually, his last group (Killahzzz of West Chester County) had been absorbed by the Metropolitan League of Duplicity. As a new recruit slated for middle management, Jackson had used his accumulated vacation days from the KWCC to take a much needed sabbatical, just as the MLD was shut down by the Federal agents. Alone and without purpose, he was approached by Samuel Phillips on a beach in Miami and convinced to join the new Guild of Calamitous Intent.
Story-
Jackson "Jack" Wellington held the empty glass aloft with his left hand. The glass's former contents and the umbrella over him kept Jack cool despite the high temperature here in South Beach. His eyes surveyed his fellow beach goers, appreciating the extremely skimpy bikinis that were all too common. He smirked, thinking of a line from one of his favorite TV show "It was extremely hard to hide a gun in a bathing suit." As someone of a degree of importance in one of the leading criminal organization of the greater New York area, being able to ensure the people around him were unarmed had a great advantage. He frowned, noting that his glass was still empty.
"Franklin! If you don't get me a new Pina Colada ASAP, I swear to God I will grind your sad little face into the sand until I've worn out your all too prominent wrinkles!"
Even as he spoke, his manservant Franklin approached with a pitcher full of the frozen delicious blend of pineapple, coconut and rum. The old man's hand shook slightly as he filled the glass to the brim, producing a cherry from a special container he was required to carry at times such as these. This was the third generation of Wellington he had been paid to serve and (in his opinion) the most foul, but also the most willing and able to kill him, so he soldiered on, as he had done in that Hun camp during the War. Maybe, he would be saved by friendly conquest of the enemy, as he had all those years ago. "Anything else, sir?"
"No. But if this Pina Colada is even the slightest bit melted, I'll... I'll... I'll punish you in ways that even I can't even imagine!" Jackson sipped the frozen drink, marveling as he always did, that Franklin could work such miracles with a blender. He once more looked around. It had been three days since his last contact with New York City and while he wasn't exactly worried about that fact, he was a bit concerned. Someone at work always needed something and as the smartest member of the ill-named Killahzzz of West Chester County (now incorporated into the Metropolitan League of Duplicity), Jack had expected near constant phone calls from his new organization about how to make the transition smoother. The complete lack of contact meant something was wrong.
"Mr. Wellington?" the question seemed to come from thin air.
Jack's head whipped around, taking in the man that had somehow appeared to his right. He quickly took in the surrounding area, noting that the older man (garbed in an ostentatious Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, floppy hat and sandals) had actually made foot prints up to Wellington's chair. Jack breathed a slight sigh of relief. He'd dated a fellow supe once who had been a teleporter; her ability to be appear anywhere she chose, whenever she wanted had not gone well with her clingy nature. After the fourth time he'd woken up to find her standing over him in his barricaded apartment in the wee hours of the morning, Jack had decided to get rid of her. He'd eventually done so by telling her how a relative of his had died on the Titanic and how he wished he could recover her necklace (a family heirloom) that she had been wearing at the time the ship sank. Eager to please, she had teleported to the ship's final resting place, never realizing the pressure change would kill her long before she would have drowned to death. The following police inquiry had been minor; she was flightly, prone to disappearing and who would think to look for a body of a missing New York socialite at the bottom of the North Atlantic? Jack had quickly been ruled out as a suspect as the police had assumed Michelle had just left one city to suddenly appear in another as she always did. Murder was so much easier when you let the victims kill themselves.
"May I help you?" Jack asked, laying on the charm. He had thought about playing ignorant, but this was clearly someone who already knew to whom he was talking.
"I understand you are a member of the former Metropolitan League of Duplicity?" the Stranger asked.
"Former?" Jack responded with genuine interest in his voice. He'd only been gone a few days.
"Yes. The League was taken down yesterday by Federal agents. They shut down all known members and placed a complete stop on all communications by anyone they even thought was associated with the League. The only person they missed was the one called "Big Brain", a new member who no one seems to have ever seen without his mask on." The Stranger stared at Jack pointedly.
"Interesting. I've heard of this League as you called it. Bad people, terrible reputation. Glad to see they got what they deserved. What does that have to do with me?" Jack asked while his left hand had put down his Pina Colada and surreptitiously taken up the small throwing knife hidden under his chair.
"There will be no need for weapons, Mr. Wellington. If I were a Federal agent, I would have stopped you at the hotel, which has far fewer people than this beach. If I had wanted to kill you you would have been dead hours ago, when you got into the limo to go to the beach here without verifying the identity of the driver. " The Stranger spoke like an analyst, cold and precise or sports announcer poking holes in the play calling of the team he was watching.
Jackson was intrigued, despite his caution and sense of alarm. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because your father did. And his father trusted my father. For decades, our families and others have been working together to build something great. Your father's assassination..."
"Assassination?!?" Jackson was truly shocked.
"Yes. Assassination." The Stranger knelt down next to Jack and sighed. "Others found out about our plans and killed your father in hopes of stopping it. Surely, someone as smart as you didn't think you were the only Super in your family?"
Jackson blushed; he had had those exact thoughts. He had thought of his parents as simple people never capable of attaining true power, that his father had been a simple businessman who had gotten lucky backing the right horse right before the Internet Bubble burst. Seeing his facial expression, the Stranger shook his head sadly. "Your father was one of the most brilliant people in the world, more so because he was able to hide it so well. And your mother was ruthless beyond measure." A degree of fondness snuck into his voice. "You truly are their son."
Jackson could not believe what he was hearing, but these insights suddenly made parts of his childhood make sense. His family's wealth, their strange but fortunate business connection, his own powers. He once more eyed the Stranger up and down, easing the knife back into its sheath.
"What's your name and what do you want?"
The Stranger smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "My name is Samuel Phillips and I want to tell you about the Guild of Calamitous Intent."
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2010
- Messages
- 8,873
Change the name of my organiztion to the Protective League of Underpowered Supers, or PLUS. I'm still going to be good though.
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2010
- Messages
- 8,873
Protective League of Underpowered Supers:
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Protective League of Unpowered Supers (PLUS) is a North American based paramilitary organisation that aims to protect the rights of Superhumans. The term Supers is an abbreviation of Superhumans and the term Underpowered is a term is used to describe Superhumans who have abilities that are considered to be useless or difficult to utilise. It was founded by Frederick Hamilton, a former general in the United Sates Army who was removed after it was discovered that he was a Superhuman, due to the Superhuman Resigstration Act requiring all Supers within government to reveal their powers upon employment.
Hello there.
Do not worry, your computer is not being hacked. Well, it is. But I am not accessing any personal files of yours, nor will anyone access our...interaction. Please relax.
Who am I, you may wonder? I am General Hamilton, formerly of the United States Army, founder of the Protective League of Underpowered Supers. I am contacting you, Ayn, as you have taken quite an interest into my organisation. You have looked into over a thousand websites relating to the League and have checked this webpage over one hundred times to check for more information. You are interested in my organisation, specifically in protection and possible employment if my sources are correct.
As you have done extensive research into this subject, I am sure you know what my organisation aims to do. But I am going to tell you again anyway, hearing things from the horse's mouth is much better than learning things from third-hand information.
Due to fears about Supers, the government has become almost paranoid about us. Although Supers with a vast amount of power and wealth can slip under the radar and fend for themselves, like I did until a very unfortunate incident, Underpowered Supers, as the public call them, suffer. I have seen Underpowereds get fired from promising military careers due to no fault of their own and driven out onto the street.
That is where we come in. PLUS aims to protect Underpowereds and other Supers from harm and spread goodwill about Supers. We provide employment, housing and protection to Supers who have been ostracised by society through no fault of their own. As the Government does not look kindly upon Super Organisations, we have had to become highly militarised and secretive. We also wish to foster goodwill about Supers, and we will stop any group that wishes to portray us in a negative light.
Due to your unique talents, your services would be invaluable. We will provide you with housing, protection and payment if you choose to accept our employment. If you do not wish to join us, then simply close your browser. If you wish to help us protect the rights of Supers in North America, and the World, then click here.
I look forward to meeting you in the flesh.
~General Hamilton.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Protective League of Unpowered Supers (PLUS) is a North American based paramilitary organisation that aims to protect the rights of Superhumans. The term Supers is an abbreviation of Superhumans and the term Underpowered is a term is used to describe Superhumans who have abilities that are considered to be useless or difficult to utilise. It was founded by Frederick Hamilton, a former general in the United Sates Army who was removed after it was discovered that he was a Superhuman, due to the Superhuman Resigstration Act requiring all Supers within government to reveal their powers upon employment.
Hello there.
Do not worry, your computer is not being hacked. Well, it is. But I am not accessing any personal files of yours, nor will anyone access our...interaction. Please relax.
Who am I, you may wonder? I am General Hamilton, formerly of the United States Army, founder of the Protective League of Underpowered Supers. I am contacting you, Ayn, as you have taken quite an interest into my organisation. You have looked into over a thousand websites relating to the League and have checked this webpage over one hundred times to check for more information. You are interested in my organisation, specifically in protection and possible employment if my sources are correct.
As you have done extensive research into this subject, I am sure you know what my organisation aims to do. But I am going to tell you again anyway, hearing things from the horse's mouth is much better than learning things from third-hand information.
Due to fears about Supers, the government has become almost paranoid about us. Although Supers with a vast amount of power and wealth can slip under the radar and fend for themselves, like I did until a very unfortunate incident, Underpowered Supers, as the public call them, suffer. I have seen Underpowereds get fired from promising military careers due to no fault of their own and driven out onto the street.
That is where we come in. PLUS aims to protect Underpowereds and other Supers from harm and spread goodwill about Supers. We provide employment, housing and protection to Supers who have been ostracised by society through no fault of their own. As the Government does not look kindly upon Super Organisations, we have had to become highly militarised and secretive. We also wish to foster goodwill about Supers, and we will stop any group that wishes to portray us in a negative light.
Due to your unique talents, your services would be invaluable. We will provide you with housing, protection and payment if you choose to accept our employment. If you do not wish to join us, then simply close your browser. If you wish to help us protect the rights of Supers in North America, and the World, then click here.
I look forward to meeting you in the flesh.
~General Hamilton.
Ailedhoo
wonderer
- Joined
- Mar 19, 2012
- Messages
- 7,809
You wish to hire some mercs from the Gethic Hand? We are not a mercenery organisation but we will do merc buisness to pay the bills.
Lighthearter
President of the United States
Game start postponed. Personal issues.
-L
-L
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2008
- Messages
- 14,928
1.) Jordan Sparks already runs a mercenary organization
2.) His mercenary organization is better than Geth.
Nukeknockout
Rusty Hinge
Supers don't need protection! They need extermination.
Terran Empress
Hornet
yah i think i might drop this, it dosen't spark my interest as much, and i don't have a lot of time to my self these upcoming weeks
KaiserElectric
Total Freakin Besties
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2007
- Messages
- 3,461
I might too. I have no ideas for this game whatsoever.
Lighthearter
President of the United States
To anyone who hasn't gotten their PMs or other signup information in: Game starts tomorrow evening. You have been warned.
-L
-L
Lighthearter
President of the United States
There has been an error in the rules. You can invest 12 points into a Hero's stats pre-Abilities, not 10. Anyone who wishes can edit their hero accordingly. Just send me a PM.
-L
-L
Lighthearter
President of the United States
T-minus 5 hours. Get any needed PMs in, and prepare yourself.
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2008
- Messages
- 14,928
Lighthearter
President of the United States
Slight delay. Official first-turn update will now be tomorrow, but you can start planning/PMing anyway.
-L
-L
So what exactly would you expect from said PMs?
Lighthearter
President of the United States
Mostly they're the PMs from the large number of people who have signed up in-thread but never sent anything.
Working on turn one post.
-L
Working on turn one post.
-L
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