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More from Circ
So yeah. Enjoy this thing I'm shitting out onto your FA.
For those too lazy to open the file...
Paragon City, Rhode Island is simultaneously the worst and best place in the world to live in, in my opinion. There’s the fact that Darfur has nothing on this place in terms of danger, yes. There’s also what kind of populace such a dangerous city breeds. Think the British civilian population’s mentality during Operation Sea Lion, but permanent. Sure, they “fear” death, but they don’t really fear it. That’s what I love about this town, that whole mentality just gives this place a flavor that you don’t find anywhere else. It makes for this culture that can’t be gentrified to hell by yuppies or anyone else, because no one that wasn’t desperate or in their right mind would live here. The day after a blood-covered surgeon drags someone into an alley to chop them up for parts to make zombies with (trust me here, I’ve seen weirder shit), they’re following the same route back to work. That is, if a hero manages to show up and save the day.
Where would this city be without heroes? I don’t think there’d be a Paragon City without them. Paragon City has the PPD, and they are well-trained. I’m not dissing the boys in blue here, but the fact of the matter is, without cowls, the PPD wouldn’t be able to hold back jack. Not without superpowers.
Not blowing my own horn here, either. Just because I don’t have to take the stairs to get to the top of my apartment in Steel Canyon doesn’t mean that I’m a goddamn panacea for all the city’s problems. Normal people are the lifeblood of this place. We’re the white blood cells, and…
Wait, wait a minute. I’m forgetting that technically I AM normal. Not a mutant, or a mage, or some mistake involving some rare chemicals or a really fucking powerful wavelength or something. Not even some guy who’s spent his entire life learning kung-fu. I’m just a guy with a suit who works a desk job from nine to five four days a week. All this hero stuff of mine is a hobby. I could quit any time I want. Hell, I only started this hobby of mine about a year ago, and I’ve had the suit for over six years now.
Yes, yes… the Rikti War was six years ago. Why wasn’t I out there, beating back those aliens and dying for the city? Simple, I didn’t have the suit yet. You remember a Mechanician? Genius guy, always managed to disarm the bomb at the last second, always had the bad guys nice and handcuffed for the police to find, went prancing around pretending he was a robot and yet got requests for sex from random women wherever he went? I was leaving the city during the middle of the war. The evacuation route I was taking led right into a group of Drones and Mentalists. Jesus, what they did to the group in front of me was horrific. People dropping to the ground completely braindead, or clutching their heads in pain as energy bolts seared flesh from their bones. Needless to say, I was in a back alley before I even knew I was running. I’m catching my breath, when all of a sudden I hear this whizzing sound, and I feel a few drops of what I could only think of at the time as rain, and there he was, the Mechanician, in all his glory, crumpled into a heap right in front of me. I momentarily panicked. It was well-known that heroes were dying by the dozens, but still.
So there I was, staring at him, watching the blood pour out from where his left arm used to be. With what rationality I had left, I scrounged a plan up to get out. I started to get this bizarre idea to fly out, to just put on the Mechanician’s suit and get out of there. I really wasn’t thinking clear enough to realize that the suit was highly damaged and wouldn’t take me as far away from Paragon City as I wanted to. I wanted Cali, I got a forest in Conneticut and a severe headache. Still, I survived, which was good enough for me.
I was back in Paragon City about five years later, yet I felt as if there was nothing really to do there anymore. There were bars and shit, yeah, and I liked them a lot. Yet… something was lacking. I needed something to do with my free time that didn’t involve getting plastered. I looked at the suit, which I’d repaired as best as I could at the time, which was the bare minimum of the suit’s full capabilities, and was using as a conversation piece. (“Did you know that I’m somewhat of a vet of the Rikti War? I’m serious.”) All these memories of adrenaline and excitement returned to me, and the rest was a blur. Showing up at City Hall in the somewhat repaired suit of armor, Ms. Liberty recognizing me as the return of Mechanician and being quickly shipped off to go fight some people high off of alien drugs or something. I honestly can’t remember much of what’d happened that first day I was a hero. Truthfully, I was REALLY drunk from about five hours after I woke up that day until I fired my first bolt of energy at this green-eyed guy hitting me with a bent piece of rebar. I do know that I found it exhilarating, though. I figured I wanted to go with it, so I didn’t tell anyone I wasn’t Mechanician. Oh no, we’re experiencing quite the glut in the hero business over in Paragon City. It’s hard to catch the eyes of the public when all these vigilantes are converging on our fair city. I wanted to at least have some attention. Being Mechanician bought me some, but not a lot. I’m still not well-known. (Fucking Freedom Phalanx glory hogs…) I must be catching some people’s eyes, though. A few months after I started this hobby of mine, I got a calling card in the form of a ten dollar bill with some poorly scribbled text on it from this supergroup called the Goon Squad. Weird bunch, them, but they seem to have their shit together more than the other supergroups I’ve seen. I mean, a few days after I joined up with them they figured out I was new to all of this. That’s the reason I’m going by the name Circutron now, after all. So yeah, I must be doing something right.
City of Heroes, the Rikti, Vazhilok, Paragon City, Steel Canyon, the Freedom Phalanx, Ms. Liberty, the PPD, and the Blaster Circutron's based off of, Circutron 3000, © NCSoft.
Circutron is © me.
For those too lazy to open the file...
Paragon City, Rhode Island is simultaneously the worst and best place in the world to live in, in my opinion. There’s the fact that Darfur has nothing on this place in terms of danger, yes. There’s also what kind of populace such a dangerous city breeds. Think the British civilian population’s mentality during Operation Sea Lion, but permanent. Sure, they “fear” death, but they don’t really fear it. That’s what I love about this town, that whole mentality just gives this place a flavor that you don’t find anywhere else. It makes for this culture that can’t be gentrified to hell by yuppies or anyone else, because no one that wasn’t desperate or in their right mind would live here. The day after a blood-covered surgeon drags someone into an alley to chop them up for parts to make zombies with (trust me here, I’ve seen weirder shit), they’re following the same route back to work. That is, if a hero manages to show up and save the day.
Where would this city be without heroes? I don’t think there’d be a Paragon City without them. Paragon City has the PPD, and they are well-trained. I’m not dissing the boys in blue here, but the fact of the matter is, without cowls, the PPD wouldn’t be able to hold back jack. Not without superpowers.
Not blowing my own horn here, either. Just because I don’t have to take the stairs to get to the top of my apartment in Steel Canyon doesn’t mean that I’m a goddamn panacea for all the city’s problems. Normal people are the lifeblood of this place. We’re the white blood cells, and…
Wait, wait a minute. I’m forgetting that technically I AM normal. Not a mutant, or a mage, or some mistake involving some rare chemicals or a really fucking powerful wavelength or something. Not even some guy who’s spent his entire life learning kung-fu. I’m just a guy with a suit who works a desk job from nine to five four days a week. All this hero stuff of mine is a hobby. I could quit any time I want. Hell, I only started this hobby of mine about a year ago, and I’ve had the suit for over six years now.
Yes, yes… the Rikti War was six years ago. Why wasn’t I out there, beating back those aliens and dying for the city? Simple, I didn’t have the suit yet. You remember a Mechanician? Genius guy, always managed to disarm the bomb at the last second, always had the bad guys nice and handcuffed for the police to find, went prancing around pretending he was a robot and yet got requests for sex from random women wherever he went? I was leaving the city during the middle of the war. The evacuation route I was taking led right into a group of Drones and Mentalists. Jesus, what they did to the group in front of me was horrific. People dropping to the ground completely braindead, or clutching their heads in pain as energy bolts seared flesh from their bones. Needless to say, I was in a back alley before I even knew I was running. I’m catching my breath, when all of a sudden I hear this whizzing sound, and I feel a few drops of what I could only think of at the time as rain, and there he was, the Mechanician, in all his glory, crumpled into a heap right in front of me. I momentarily panicked. It was well-known that heroes were dying by the dozens, but still.
So there I was, staring at him, watching the blood pour out from where his left arm used to be. With what rationality I had left, I scrounged a plan up to get out. I started to get this bizarre idea to fly out, to just put on the Mechanician’s suit and get out of there. I really wasn’t thinking clear enough to realize that the suit was highly damaged and wouldn’t take me as far away from Paragon City as I wanted to. I wanted Cali, I got a forest in Conneticut and a severe headache. Still, I survived, which was good enough for me.
I was back in Paragon City about five years later, yet I felt as if there was nothing really to do there anymore. There were bars and shit, yeah, and I liked them a lot. Yet… something was lacking. I needed something to do with my free time that didn’t involve getting plastered. I looked at the suit, which I’d repaired as best as I could at the time, which was the bare minimum of the suit’s full capabilities, and was using as a conversation piece. (“Did you know that I’m somewhat of a vet of the Rikti War? I’m serious.”) All these memories of adrenaline and excitement returned to me, and the rest was a blur. Showing up at City Hall in the somewhat repaired suit of armor, Ms. Liberty recognizing me as the return of Mechanician and being quickly shipped off to go fight some people high off of alien drugs or something. I honestly can’t remember much of what’d happened that first day I was a hero. Truthfully, I was REALLY drunk from about five hours after I woke up that day until I fired my first bolt of energy at this green-eyed guy hitting me with a bent piece of rebar. I do know that I found it exhilarating, though. I figured I wanted to go with it, so I didn’t tell anyone I wasn’t Mechanician. Oh no, we’re experiencing quite the glut in the hero business over in Paragon City. It’s hard to catch the eyes of the public when all these vigilantes are converging on our fair city. I wanted to at least have some attention. Being Mechanician bought me some, but not a lot. I’m still not well-known. (Fucking Freedom Phalanx glory hogs…) I must be catching some people’s eyes, though. A few months after I started this hobby of mine, I got a calling card in the form of a ten dollar bill with some poorly scribbled text on it from this supergroup called the Goon Squad. Weird bunch, them, but they seem to have their shit together more than the other supergroups I’ve seen. I mean, a few days after I joined up with them they figured out I was new to all of this. That’s the reason I’m going by the name Circutron now, after all. So yeah, I must be doing something right.
City of Heroes, the Rikti, Vazhilok, Paragon City, Steel Canyon, the Freedom Phalanx, Ms. Liberty, the PPD, and the Blaster Circutron's based off of, Circutron 3000, © NCSoft.
Circutron is © me.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 25.5 kB
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