Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

[quozaxx]

I'm going to try this one more time.

 

This is a continuation of http://www.herogames.com/forums/showthread.php?t=61543

 

Next scene:

 

 

Dr. Destroyer takes off his helmet.

 

 

Lights, Camera, Action.

[boomer]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

Knowing his scarred visage would give the Heroes pause, Destroyer slowly lifted his helmet. The Heroes, "veterans" of a few years of service to the City, visibly flinched at the true face of Evil. Destroyer ginned, pausing to let the effect set in. When he was satisfied with the level of revulsion he finally spoke.

 

"You look upon the Face of Dr. Destroyer. You look upon the Face of your DOOM!!"

 

(I've always loved GMing Destroyer....)

[hfergus]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

Slowly lifting his helmet, the room hushes. You can hear the clock ticking on the far wall. Everyone is dreading his scarred face. Why is he doing this? His face is revealed. Everyone gasps - for it is the face of...(Continued next week)

 

Ok, I like cliffhangers. What is revealed? I could be a snot and show my political leanings and say "Hillary Clinton" or go the other way and say "Dick Cheney". Maybe the Luke Skywalker vs Darth Vader in the tree and say "the face of yourself"(Only works with heroes whose face is known)

 

But it would be: "for it is the face of Mother Teresa" (Or other famous for charity.

 

"Behold!" a voice from the helmet says. "Your best can be corrupted. You are all pathetic cretins compared to me. Soon, my final plan will come to fruition. And you will be fighting yourselves. Surrender now, and much destruction will be spared." Evil laughter fills the room. What is he up to? What does he mean? Is he going to turn the best into the worst? Am I next?

 

As the laugher stops, Mother Teresa attack using only her natural abilities. Defeating her is easy, she'd not badly hurt, but how can we fix her? Things are about to get interesting; as in the Chinese curse, "may you live in intersting times."

 

Yup, I love the Doctor, he's so fun to do. I do him in a Darth Vader voice dripping with arrogance. My players alway go "Oh crud" when they hear it.

[Diamond_J]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

(Note: In 5th edition I don't believe Doctor Destroyer is scarred anymore; in fact he's descrebed as being handsome and youthfull in appearance, for his advancing years. He is however looking for the secret to restore his youth)

 

 

Moliki walked past the doctors quarters. He couldn't shake the fealing that Cartwrite was hiding something. There was an intangability about the crazzy old man; his demenour, his deranged brillience, the technical prowess of his inventions. It was as if his bumbling and crazy demenor were natural, almost to demented for his abilities...like an act.

 

Why would I.C. CORE feal the need to keep the old scientist employed, and in such a promenet possition. What if Cartwrite were to suddenly and completley lose his grasp on reality? All the expensive programs, the soldiers under his command; did general Ryjack know of Cartwrites Mental state?

 

Moliki paused and glanced towards the double dors of Cartwrites study. It would be so easy to read the doctors mind. Moliki's Telipathic abilities were secound to few, he knew this for fact, and yet...

 

Something allways warned the Arcadian prince. Everytime Moliki was tempted, urged to unravel Cartwrites thoughts, a sense of impending danger shot through his bones. Could Cartwrites mind be, so strong?

 

The study was ajar, usualy Cartwright kept it electronicly sealed. Moliki felt the overwellming urge to find answers. Slowly he crept insided. Bits and pieces cogs, transisters and wire strewn with wreckless dissorder filled the study. Books lined all four walls and ever corner, an empty dissplay case

hung above a custom built computer. Moliki stretched forth his hand and touched the wood dissplay. Imediatly he recoiled in terror, the image of Destroyes mask, at the fall of detroit flickered and flashed.

 

"No, its impossible that was, was the original mask, but it should be locked away in the Detroit memorial musium. The old fool couldn't be, could he?"; Moliki mouthed the words in dissbelief.

 

"This doesn't mean anything, just that Cartwrite stole the mask or had it stolen for him"; The prince thought self afermatively.

 

It was then that Moliki noticed the technical journal. Jutting from the shelf as if recently read or updated an old leather notebook caught Moliki's attention.

 

He opened the book revieling pages of schematics, numbers equations permutations. There were detailed pictures of power cells and notes on artificial intelligence. He turned the pages again revealing a drawing, more schematics of a robot. It was then Moliki realised what it was he read...Mechinon.

 

Clap, Clap, Clap the sound of two hands smugly broke the silence.

Moliki turned sharply. In the door frame stood Dr. Cartwrite his posture and demeour somehow changed, more confident, more regal. He was wereing the mask of Destroyer.

 

" Good Prince, so curious like a moth to the flame. Go ahead try to assaile my mind." The doctor spoke with confidence his gloved palm turned upwards as he clenched it into closed fist.

 

With every ownce of force he could muster, Moliki pushed his mental abilities. Over and over he attempted an offence yet could not bring himself to attack the doctor.

 

" Did you not think I would employ an attack dog without a leash to keep him in check. Now prince, bow before your GOD."; He cast off his old mask and removed the prosthetics glued to his face. Below the descise the imperial Zerstoyten sneered.

 

With a wave of his hand Destroyer motioned for Moliki to bow. The once proud prince crumpled to one knee, unable to dissobay his new master.

 

A deep laugh echoed through the room as Destroyer sealed the doors and prepared for the next phase of his plan.

[Diamond_J]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

Sorry for the shit-tacular spelling job, I did spell check the previous post. I think I screwed up somewhere when I cut and pasted from word (where I always do my spelling and grammar checks.

By the way I hope these posts keep going because they're allot of fun to respond to. Keep it coming

[FireTiger]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

Hmmm...now let me see if I can come up with a "why" for this one...

 

"Sssshhhhh...hush now, children, and listen as I spin my tale. I will tell you of heroes, villains, and the true story of a city's demise. The day had begun like many another before..."

 

With the vanguard of those called "heroes" scattered about him, Dr. Destroyer returned to making the final checks and adjustments on his latest superweapon. The weapon was intact, the next wave of heroes wouldn't arrive for at least a minute, it was time. An alert signal from a sensor destroid cut in on an emergency channel.

 

"Warning. Warning. Anomalous energy detected."

 

Dr. Destroyer paused, then directed his attention to the data coming in from the unit that had sounded the alert. "Analyze and identify energy field."

 

"Stand by," said the destroid. "Anomaly center located, ten meters from your position. Bearing one eight zero degrees relative your position." Dr. Destroyer placed the machine on fail-safe stand by, and turned to face the place described by the sensory unit. Focusing his attention, sensors, and multiple weapons upon the point in space indicated, Dr. Destroyer waited for the destroid to complete its analysis.

 

"Energy type identified. Incoming spacial and/or temporal transmigration beam. Danger. Danger. Local space-time integrity fluctuations detected."

 

A light like that in the heart of star appeared a few inches above the street. A guardian destroid moving into position was caught in the flood of energy and was instantly destroyed. Several identical points appeared within the next few seconds, the flood of radio-frequency energy blocking out all signals from the sensory destroid.

 

From each line of blazing ultra-bright light stepped a figure clad in technologic armor. Dr. Destroyer watched, planning his response as each figure completed its forward movement and the reality-warping line of light behind each of them disappeared.

 

Each armored suit was disturbingly similar to his own, and yet each was different.

 

"Now, to head-off a few questions and help you keep the story straight, I'll add a few notes as we go..."

 

"Who dares attempt to usurp my place as the foremost being upon the Earth?" asked an indignant Dr. Destroyer (1981).

 

"You are very much mistaken," said Dr. Destroyer (1985). "Only I, Destroyer, am fit to rule this world...this universe."

 

Dr. Destroyer (1989a) made a dismissive gesture and turned to address the armor-clad figure that stood in the center of the impromptu circle. "If you are, as my calculations indicate, another version of myself, then you will know why I—we—have come here."

 

Prof. Preserver said nothing, concentrating upon how best to destroy the superweapon while incurring the least risk to innocent civilians who had not yet been able to flee the city.

 

"Indeed," added Dr. Destroyer (1985b). "You, of this reality, have insisted upon making yourself a threat to my own dominion."

 

"There should be no dissension, we—I—should ensure that all of these lesser beings never again question Destroyer's right to reign throughout the multiverse." said Dr. Destroyer (1990).

 

Dr. Destroyer (2002) laughed, the sound triggering the trans-dimensional temporal neutralizer. Bolts of energy flashed out of the machine, forcing the still-healing weak spots in local space-time open again. Each blast of energy created a temporal feedback loop within the each of the other continui, bringing about the cataclysmic ends of no less than six universes.

 

"The rest of you should have remembered," said Dr. Destroyer, who doffed his helmet, pushed his left hand through his gray hair twice, smiled, and then donned his helmet once more. "You really are you own worst enemy." He turned his attention away from the clouds of wind-wafted ash that had formerly been other versions of himself and watched calmly as the next wave of heroes began their doomed assault.

 

"Nay, that is not the proper tale, thou hast told it wrong, Andrew."

 

"Ah-ah, it isn't your turn, Beuford. When it's your turn you can tell it your way." replied Merry Andrew.

[jkwleisemann]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

Destroyer crushed his hands against his brow, swearing vitriolically in polyglot, returning to German more often than most. No sweat formed beneath his helmet. His blood pressure remained at a constant rate.

 

And yet, Destroyer was more enraged than he had been in decades.

 

He looked up, glaring at the superbeings who had gathered to face him. Less than a dozen of them... what had happened? He had destroyed dozens before, hundreds at a blow. Each of Mechanon's creatures was easily the match for one of these, and he had slaughtered them by the thousands.

 

He glared most at the dark, cloaked figure standing among them... and the faint image of a little girl sitting on his shoulder. Whistler reached up, taking his cowl and removing it, exposing a face that hadn't changed in over a century and a half. An arrogant face, perfectly nordic, perfectly German. A face identical to the Destroyer's, nearly two hundred years before.

 

"So, the prodigal returns," Destroyer intoned painfully, standing straight again, glaring at his son. He reached up, taking his own helmet and releasing the clasps that held it in place. "I will give you a gift, my son."

 

"Look upon your father's face, Hans." He lifted his helmet... revealing a transparent destrium container holding a pulsing brain hooked up to wires and electrodes that led to the armor that made up the rest of his body... and Hans, for the first time since his sister's death, looked upon his father with horror, rather than rage. Then the look of horror was replaced with something else... something far worse, to Destroyer's mind.

 

Pity. Destroyer felt the rage rising up inside of him, and threw his helmet to the side.

 

"Look upon the face of the Destroyer, mortals!" He bellowed through electronic synthethizers. "Look upon my works, ye mighty... and despair!"

 

Before Hans could react, before his friends could come to his defense, Destroyer raised a hand, and unleashed the full destructive power of his suit.

 

And his son, his legacy, his immortality, was reduced to ashes as the battle was rejoined.

 

(Yeah, I know Destroyer isn't a brain-in-a-jar... normally.... )

[FireTiger]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

(Yeah' date=' I know Destroyer isn't a brain-in-a-jar... normally.... )[/quote']

 

Heh, normally, nope. At least one version of him was, though. (I was about to specify where, but realized some folks may not have played through Champions in 3-D...)

[Silverswirl]

Re: Story telling skills: Next scene Dr. Destroyer

 

A Technical Difficulty

 

Sanctuary's parties were always good ones. In that neutral ground, heroes and villains mixed freely, and music played softly. Gem (dressed in her strange alien armor) had never been to Sanctuary. She was amazed at the hidden technologies, advanced beyond conception. New to heroism (a physicist in her other-life), she recognized that she had a lot of work to catch up on, to fully understand all the technical underpinnings of heroic culture.

 

Food offered a start: the side-board and bar bulged with green shrimp, orange pulp, blue petals and a host of colors and smells ranging from hot to savory to sickly sweet. (She doubted any one of them came from Atraxa, home of her suit). Those who tasted the exotic wines and delicacies from who knows how many planets first tested them under the Biological Compatibility Matrix (just above the bar) to insure that toxins did not trouble throats, stomachs or any other gustatory apparatus.

 

A sudden hush. The music cut off in mid-note (too bad; she liked Miles Davis). She turned, and saw a figure dressed in extraordinary armor, which contained the faintest suggestion of millitary grace. She'd seen him before, on the Nightly News, and he always meant trouble. Dr. Destroyer.

 

"Greetings, lesser ones!"

 

The sound of arrogance crystalized. He sounded even more arrogant in person than on television; some notes simply didn't translate over the airwaves and microphones of the media. "How much of that is armor, and how much is him?" she wondered.

 

Dr. Destroyer had everyone's attention. No one knew what he'd do next, though she understood (through Volt) that even he didn't start trouble here.

 

Then, he took off his helmet. People called out names of various heroes in the community.

 

"Defender?"

"Solitaire!"

"Seeker!?"

"Merry Andrew?!"

"Dark Hawk?"

 

She saw . . . nothing. No face. Nothing but a blank space without eyes. It looked like a Dark Lord of Mordor, a shadow, or perhaps the starless reaches of deep space. Cold. Unforgiving.

 

"How can that be?" she thought.

 

Everyone continued to call out names. "Volt!" "Mirror-mask!" "Firewing!"

 

A moment later, Dr. Destroyer strode over to *her.*

 

"And you," said he, the arrogance muted, but somehow concentrated on a single focal point. "Whom do you see?"

 

The faceless space disturbed her more than the sound of his voice. She wished she had the ability to lie, almost a name came to her lips, but she couldn't say it.

 

"No one. No one at all."

"Intriguing. You represent my one failure in this test. This must be seen to . . . but not here." He turned, and left Sanctuary.

 

Her bones iced, and her blood stilled. "Great," she thought. "Just great. I've *intrigued* him . . . and that's not good."