Avatar of Bork
  • Last Seen: 0-24 hrs ago
  • Joined: 9 yrs ago
  • Posts: 917 (0.28 / day)
  • VMs: 5
  • Username history
    1. Bork 4 mos ago
    2. ██████████ 6 yrs ago
    3. ██████████████ 6 yrs ago
    4. ███████████████ 6 yrs ago
    5. ██████████████ 9 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current Auld Lang Syne, everybody. roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
4 yrs ago
Vote in my new quest, Mirage, a RP quest set in the far, far future roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
5 yrs ago
Kink-Shaming. Kink-Shaming Never Changes.
3 likes
5 yrs ago
roleplayerguild.com/posts/5… Vote for Dead in Depression. The mechanics of the quest have now been posted!
5 yrs ago
Voting is open until the end of the week! Please come and vote! - roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
1 like

Bio




Most Recent Posts

Posted after 2 weeks. I'm definitely tired and I could have finished this post faster but between getting a cold and doing work, I had to scrap some parts of the intro post I wanted to do.

Things should pick up faster during this first arc. If anyone wants to do any collabs, please reach out to me.
Economos hated Mondays, especially Mondays in Arlington. Traffic had been a nightmare thanks to the new roadworks down near the outer boulevards.

Everyone was on edge in the room. It smelt damp. In the middle of the table sat a ash tray. The silver bowl was a graveyard of cigarette butts, wafts of light grey smoke wisping out from the mound. Chatter was abuzz as usual around the room. Meaningless small talk about missions, domestic details, vacations, not in that order. Economos kept to himself, sipping in his coffee cup. As a data analyst, He was sandwiched in between two agents. Stillwell sat to his left, taking a drag of a cigarette whilst Johnson was kneading her eye with a manicured fist.Stillwell was the definition of a braggadocio. Theree was an unspoken hierarchy at the agency where hotshots like Stillwell, gunning for their next promotion, were the talk of the town at the mess hall whilst low level techs and admin staff like Economos were busy twiddling their thumbs, satisfied with their paycheck and benefits they got. Economos was alright with that. Stillwell was a man who demanded results whilst Economos was a man who calculated and waited for results. Two different philosophies. Only one seemed to get all the attention though.

Economos peered around the room. Avery from Analytics. Carson from Investigations. Tactical. Administration.

Why would Hill call a meeting from different departments? As though he had summoned her, Maria Hill burst through the door, the chatter ceasing in the room. Her spine was straight as a railroad spike, iron and unbending, as she walked to the front of the tabl. A crowd of assistants and secretaries congregated around her, like ducklings.  Wordlessly, she  nodded to an red-faced assistant who was struggling with a mountain of files in her arms who began passing it out to each agent. 

" Good morning, everyone. Yes, I know how unusual it is for us to have an early meeting, especially on a Monday." Maria nodded in acknowledgement to Economos and he raised his coffee mug in reply. " I wouldn't gather all of you if this wasn't a matter of national security."

" Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet the face of the mark we're targeting over the next few months." The projector turned on and Economos thought what he saw was some sort of photo editing glitch. It was a mugshot of a person, well, as best as he could make it out. The shadow held a sign reading "DAKOTA CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT - IVAN EVANS". Before anyone could ask a question,Economos heard a snide giggle from his left side. Maria's head turned towards his direction, her gaze owlish.

" Something funny, Agent Stillwell?," Maria asked.

" Seriously, this is who we're worrying about? I've read his file before, Hill." Stillwell eyes rolled, laying back in his chair with a smug grin. "A metahuman gangbanger? Low level gang wars over territory and cocaine? Can't we just leave this to the feds?" Some other agents in the room let loose a few sniggers and wry grins. Economos remained impassive, rolling his yellow pencil in between his fingers, observing Hill instead. The senior agent didn't so much flinch, remaining stony faced. Well, attempting to. Economos had worked with Amanda Waller long enough to know to spot a copycat. He could see the chinks in how her fists tightened, the way her shoulders tensed. The power suit she was wearing was the same as the one Waller wore during her inaugration speech at D.C.

" Really?" Maria raised a single eyebrow. " Since you're so outspoken, do you mind telling me who the Agency should be more worried about?"

The laughs died off. Stillwell shrugged his shoulders, now speaking in a patronising tone.

" Director Waller's directive has been to concentrate on Superman -"

" Correction. "  Maria cut him off . " Superman is one of our primary focuses but he is not the only one out there. Big Blue is a paper tiger. He is only one man and with our friends at LexCorp, he'll be kept busy in Metropolis for a good while. He is fundamentally an outsider and effectively has no political bearing on what goes on domestically. Until he starts becoming a threat, he's a nuisance and a useful one at that."

Grabbing a remote to the table, Maria pointed it to the television, turning it on with a flick of the switch. Black and white static faded into a live broadcast on WHIH News.  It looked like there was some protest in Chicago judging by the large crowds of people wielding signs. Only these weren't any ordinary people.There was a winged woman standing on power lines and holding a megaphone. A towering giant of pure energy waving a flag that was carved out of a small tree. They were metahumans. 

" This is Christine Everhart, live at Washington D.C where the Meta Breed is continuing their third day of public protests this week.  Mr Ebon, this is the second demonstration your Meta-Breed. What are you hoping to gain out of this discussion?"

The shadow talked. There was no mouth in the blackless expanse of that living shadow, only two slivery beads of moonlight that shimmered as though they were on the surface of a lake. He spoke in a vaguely brouguish east-coast accent, harsh and unrefined. There was a second tone glued to the first, an oily slick static that seem to cling to every syllable.

" Hope that the fine people of New York be more willing to let us be in their neighborhood  without havin' a rock thrown at us."

" Are you willing to come to any compromise with Governor -"

" Compromise?"  Ebon's voice grew angry. " 'Scuse me? Ain't no word I hate anything more in the dictionary than compromise. Instead of being forced to suck their dick, we get a dollar each time we suck their dick. Lord ain't anyone new. Same as the last administration in fact. No matter if it was the most woke ass liberal up there or the most racist pig standing on that their podium, it's a mould. The president fits that damn mould. You think this power makes me different? We just the same as everyone else. Powers ain't gonna be anything new in the equation if some people on the other side got powers too. We ain't meta if you're fighting for the same old things. Way I see it, you meta if you fightin' for a new meta, baby. A new meta that's free - "

The television clicked off. The temperature in the room had changed. The boredom on everyone's faces had been wiped away by Ebon's speech and now, a stoic grimace filled their furrowed eyebrows and frowns. Economos glanced to his left.  Stillwell looked as though he had swallowed a prune. Maria stared, laser-focused, at the agent, a savored look in her eyes, before regarding the silence of the room with a commanding voice.

" This protest was just over 6 hours ago. The Meta Breed are growing fast and have the potential to become one of the greatest threats this nation has ever faced.  They had only a few dozen people in their ranks 8 months ago and now, their ranks have swelled to the hundreds across the east coast. Mr Evans here has the potential to unite the mutant, the metahuman, the vigilante and all superpowered individuals into something new that could threaten the stability of this great nation. We must prevent his rise before he can start a metahuman revolution." Maria paused to let the gravity of her statement sink in. " The first and last one we'll live through. "

Agent Harcourt, a blonde agent in her mid thirties, was the first one to break the silence, leaning forward on her elbows.

" Why not just get a sniper? He's not bulletproof as far as the files tell me."

"We kill him now and we'll make him a martyr." Maria replied, her face grim. "The movement will continue on without him.  We need to kill his image, his reputation in the eyes of the public, and then, we can properly kill him. "

" So, what do you propose, Hill?," Stillwell said, irritated.

" We need a patsy. We can't fight a meta but if we make a meta fight another meta, well....."  Maria said, a slight curl on her lip. " And I just know the perfect one...."





STATIC SHOCK

JUMPSTART

PART ONE





Robbery was never something Terry Erwell took joy in. As he wedged the bolt cutters in between the steel iron chain behind the F.E.A.S.T community centre, he was wondering how the hell he had ended up here in the first place. His partner, Turk Barrett, had proposed the job a week ago. Erwell wouldn't have even dreamt of it. Hell, he crashed at F.E.A.S.T a few times when the landlord kicked him out for inspections and had supper there when he didn't have enough left over to pay the loan sharks. He disagreed to it but when the electricity bills came in, Erwell succumbed to the pressure.

" Come on, man," Turk was behind him, egging him on. He held a crowbar in his arms that was for forcing the door open once He looked over his shoulder for signs of any cops. " How long is it going to take for you to snap through, man?"

" Just gimme a second." Erwell grunted, feeling the metal slowly give way. " It'll take 5 minutes, tops."

" Well, hurry up." Barrett stood on the balls of his feet, holding the crowbar like a lifeline. " We stand out here. Pretty soon, someone's gonna spot us in our dumb masks -"

" Dude, what the hell are you two doing behind here?"

The two criminals jumped. The voice was young and sounded like your typical teen. Erwell knew immediately who it was. It was a face that you would have seen plastered on signboards, graffitied in subway tunnels and in blurry afterimages on late night talkshows. An overly large parka shadowed his head but two gimlets of blue lightning sparked within them. His hair stood on the end as all the lights in the alleyway seem to dim in the figure's presence. Two plastic grocery bags, stretched in the seams, were held in his hands.

Static.

The vigilante dropped the bags and took off his hood. His dreadlocks coiled outwards like stretched springs and the lightning faded from his eyes, revealing bloodshot irises.

" Erwell, I swear to god I told you off last week. " Static said, exasperated. " Don't tell me what I think you're doing. For fuck's sake, man, what if the cops spotted you?"

" Uh, Static, look, this is all a misunderstanding." Barrett raised his arms up, trying to defuse the situation. You see, we were just doing late night repairs -" The hero signed. Blue electricity began to drip from his right hand and with a wave, the crowbar his partner was holding leapt out like a frog and skittered on the concrete.

" Look, look, guys." Static pinched his nose. " It's 11:30, I got chores I need to run and I don't got time to send you two fools down to the station. " Static lifted up the bags invitingly. " How's about you help me distribute these hoagies to all the folks in the shelter and I'll let you two have a bite?"


**FILE TYPE:** CLASSIFIED
**FILE REF:** [AGT-████-████-XX]
**ACCESS LEVEL:** TOP SECRET — SIERRA CLASSIFICATION
**SUBJECT CODE-NAME:** ******_********_********_
**REAL NAME:** MIKLOS CORBREAU
**ALIAS(ES):** N/A
**CURRENT COVER IDENTITY: ALEKSEI MOSKOVOI**

### I. BIOGRAPHICAL DATA

- **DATE OF BIRTH:** 10th September, 1945

- **PLACE OF BIRTH:** Hungary

- **CITIZENSHIP:** American, Hungarian

- **GENDER:** Male

- **ETHNICITY:** Caucasian

- **HEIGHT:** 6'1

- **WEIGHT:** 180 pounds

- **EYE COLOR:** Green

- **HAIR COLOR:** Red

- **DISTINGUISHING FEATURES**

Individual possesses mole under left eye and scar tissue approximately 4 centimeters in length under his left ear from a prior field injury. Individual requires prescription glasses during field operation.

* * *

### II. EDUCATION & TRAINING

- **ACADEMIC BACKGROUND:**

- Institution: Eotvos Lorand University

- Degree(s): Bachelor of Engineering

- Field(s) of Study: Chemical Engineering

- **MILITARY SERVICE (if any):**

- Branch: Hungarian People's Army, 3rd Army Corps

- Rank/Role: Corporal

- Service Date: 1950 - 1956

- **TRAINING RECORD**

- CIA - CO101 (Agent Orientation Course) - 1960

- CIA - SERE (Survival Escape Resistance Course) - 1960

- SAD - 221 (Improved Chemical Demolitions and Hazardous Materials) - 1962

- CIA - COINTEL (Counterintelligence Course) -1963
- CIA - INFILSEC (Infiltration and Security Course) - 1964
- CIA - CQCA (Close Quarters Combat A) - 1964
- CIA - LRMKSM (Marksmanship) - 1964 
- FBI - ESPNIII(Espionage III) - 1970 

### III. BACKGROUND/OPERATIONAL HISTORY

Aleksei Moskovoi was born in Nograd, Hungary to Sachashky Nisfard and Kol Mskovoi. After the He attended Eotvos Lorand University and graduated with a Bachelor of Engineering with a specialization in Chemical Engineering from Eotvos Lorand Univeristy. Due to a lack of employment opportunities as most of Hungary's infrastructure was still recovering after the conclusion of WW2, Moskovoi joined the HNP as a sapper. During the Hungarian Revolution, Moskovoi's sympathies with anti-soviet revolutionaries and pro-nationalist elements in his regiment led him to defect to the side of the counter-revolutionaries in 1955 (NOTE: Extensive interrogation and assessment of personal reading material reveal no ties to the U.S.S.R or any communist groups of interest. So far.) During the events of November the 4th to 9th, Aleksei was captured by Soviet forces during the siege of Budapest and later escaped from a train into the Baltic Sea. Reports indicate sightings at Austria. Acquiring fake papers,Moskovoi departed on a oil tanker (SEE: CF-071962-U.S.S Arkansas) on route to San Francisco.  Moskovoi worked for a brief period as a orange picker in San Bernandino before operating as an arms trafficker with Cuban insurgents. Upon his capture by the C.I.A, Special Agent XXXXXX recommended the agency to recruit Moskovoi as a probationary officer. For the last fifteen years of service, Moskovoi has operated as a CIA field agent, primarily specializing in operations based in Eastern Europe. 

<ins>Operational History</ins>

[REDACTED]

### IV. PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE

Evaluator: Dr Shakovska Yorge 

General Disposition: Operative presents as composed, calm and an highly analytical procedure. Displays extroverted emotional behaviour, although, operative displays ability to adapt emotional response according to present social context and cues. Subject displays complete focus on execution of mission parameters in both qualitative dialogue tests and test scenarios but is unable to adapt to changing circumstances relative to baseline agents. Operative displays highly agitated state when working alongside other operatives in group exercises under observation. 

Risk Assessment: Internal loyalty and alliance to C.I.A still nebulous. Need to improve ennagrams and psychological profiling should be accelerated. 

Recommendation: Recommending shift from solo deployment to team operations with limited autonomy. 

**NOTE:** Unauthorized access or duplication of this file constitutes a violation of federal law and will trigger counterintelligence review under Directive 9-13B.



MAVGORAN NIGHTS


Starring @Bork Lazer and @Shu




TBA

In Mahz's Dev Journal 11 mos ago Forum: News
Highlighted another issue on Github relating to a dead address link on the users page.
In Mahz's Dev Journal 11 mos ago Forum: News
Found a similar error with the friend system, when you go to remove someone from your friends list you get an Internal Server Error message instead.


Reporting the same issue here. Raised it on Github as an issue.


" Elek?"





" Elek, yo, are you listening to me?"

Elek blinked as the whirlwind of code faded from his head and he returned to reality. The hospital was white. Overwhelmingly so. It stank of antiseptic and the linoleum floors were scrubbed so clean that he could see his reflection on them. . Elek felt out of place in his baggy sweatshirt and the stink of Panda Express that had sustained him through many late nights of programming. Part of him felt that he shouldn't be here next to Nicole, especially when she was in this state. Her single left arm was no linger in a sling but still woven in a thick cast that made her movements slug-like. The blotches on her tanned face had faded. She was currently looking up from a copy of the Boston Globe, leaning on her cast arm to compensate for her missing right arm. Her brown hair was knotted into a french braid that snaked down from her shoulder onto the linen.

" Yeah, of course."

" I can tell when you're lying." Nicole said, a smile in her tone. She set the newspaper down on the blanket and her pale blue eyes searched him. She nodded towards the heart monitor hooked up to her chest, the green line of the ECG flowing up and down like a mountain range. " That's the only thing in here that you could listen to. What's it like?"

Elek struggled with his words for a moment. There really was no answer. It changed everyday. He thought it sounded like the voices of the dead during his childhood but it changed every year.

" Like being near the edge of a waterfall," He lied. Tried to.

Nicole hummed in thought before returning back to her newspaper.

" Schiebe."

" Nicole, what's the matter?," Elek asked.

" This." Her finger tapped the headline " MIT SORORITY GROUP EXPELLED" several times. " Elek. Don't lie to me," She hissed. "You did this, did you?"

His silence was an answer already. Elek tucked his chin down at his neck, shying away from her look as the edge of the newspaper crumpled between her fingers.

" Goddamit, Elek. If the police find out what you actually are and they connect you to this......"

" I hid my tracks well. They won't find out ," Elek said with smug satisfaction. Well, technically, he did. Anyone with a smidgen of computer security knowledge would look at the news article and suspect foul play immediately. Police didn't have the resources or capabilities to crack into Apple firmware. It was more relegated to the likes of the feds. There was no trace, no evidence that would have linked him to their arrests. Nicole apparently didn't agree. Her glower made him shrink and he spoke again, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. " Look, Nicole. I did what I had to do...."

" Dammit, that's not the point! " Nicole reached out with her cast to pound the railing on her hospital bed before Elek could stop her. She yelped in pain as Elek reached out to clutch her shoulder. " They hurt me and that's the end of the damn story! You didn't have to get involved."

" I got involved the moment they put you in danger," Elek spoke, an edge of passion entering his voice. " Because you're my friend. And that's what friends do for each other." He then paused. " But if you think I should tell them..."

" Don't do that. I just...don't know what to feel right now. You're my friend, yes. But friends don't go out of their way to hack other people. " A small, brief smile crossed her bruised face. " I suppose they had it coming but......." Her smile had evaporated quick like a puddle on a hot summer's day and was now replaced by a quivering frown.

" I'm not staying here."

" I don't understand,," Elek asked, confused. What was Nicole talking about? " D-did I do something wrong? What about your short-wave range transmission project? We're still working on that for the confer-"

" Elek." Nicole interrupted again, his pitch more forceful. " It's not you. It's my parents. I'm leaving Boston. Permanently."




He wasn't surprised by the letter on his desk when he came back to Boston General late at night. The throes of anger and frustration had left him with no energy to feel anything at the moment. He picked it up, glancing past the stamp of a snake eating its own tail, and unfolded the letter to read it.

> YOU TOOK YOUR FIRST STEP.

> DISTRACTIONS ARE A WEAKNESS IN OUR LINE OF WORK.

> INVITATION STILL AWAITS.

> MAKE THE WORLD MOVE.


Elek stared at the paper for a while before wordlessly scrunching it up into a ball and tossing it into a paper waste bin. He rummaged around in his cupboard, eventually taking out a paper box of matches. He brushed the match head slowly against the abrasive strip, setting it aflame. Elek watched stonily , letting let it burn until the flame danced near the edge of his fingers. He then threw the ember into the bin and watched as the note caught fire.










Location: Base Alpha, Dundas Island
Time of Trouble#1.006:>sys.call

Interaction(s): N/A
Previously: N/A




" I'm being permanently reassigned to the Enforcement Division?"

It was late afternoon at Base Alpha and Elek was still feeling the jet-lag from flying all the way from the other side of the east coast. Instead of retiring to the comforting safety of his office room to sleep it off, he responded to the summons of Deptuy Director Executive Morris. It was as the director put it, 'a meeting of the utmost urgency'.

Morris's office was spartan. There was a sense of organisation that Elek could begrudgingly respect, although, he found it all so restricting. His table, carved out of glistening oak, laid in the centre of the room. A series of filing cabinets imprinted with metal labels occupied the left wall whilst a small squat shelf filled with folders and various books sat on the right. There were few affectations, only a small photoframe on his table showing Morris sitting on a couch alongside his wife and a few small figures which Elek assumed were his children. The walls were bare and two 24 hour analog clocks were in the room, one above Morris's head and the other above the door. There was enough space to walk but not enough to do anything else. Compact and efficient.

Morris replied to his question with a glum, tactiturn demeanor, flicking through sheafs of departmental forms to sign off on. His peppery hair was cropped flat and thin, knobbled fingers held a blue fountain pen. His movements were quick and deft, writing with the vigor of a man twenty years younger.

" Wasn't my decision. It was Dunusque. Departments are doing some restructuring. Apparently, your newest detail requires you to step away from O.T for quite some time, Elek. Almost permanently."

Frustration wormed inside Elek like a fever. This was what he got after spending five years in Operational Technology as one of its best agents? It wasn't out of enjoyment. If he was relegated to the Enforcement Division, he would have less free time to pursue some of his other activities. Activities that would be increasingly harder to hide under the scrutiny of some departmental bureaucrat from Enforcement. Elek coughed and spoke, forced politeness in his voice.

" I think that my appraisal for the position of Executive Assistant Director in O.T was being reviewed."

" And it's been summarily rejected," Morris said plainly.

" Not until I get an explanation." Elek waited for Morris's reaction but the department head didn't even raise an eyebrow, simply continuing to sign his documents. "I still think I deserve to have some measure of responsibilites in O.T-"

Morris's fist slammed on the desk, sending a few papers flying.

" For fuck sake's, Elek, do I have to spell it out for you?! "

Hearing Morris, the stickler for rules and decorum, swearing was akin to seeing a solar eclipse for the first time.

" My work on HypeOS was allowed the department to radically improve H.E.L.P's servers and -!," Elek was on the cusp of a incensed rant but Morris cut him short, now standing up and looking down at him with barely disguised anger.

" Yes, brilliant work that you've done with HypeOS. I'll admit that you've driven down costs, pushed our logistical infrastructure to the next decade and kept our cybersecurity on the forefront. However, no engineer that I've been able to recruit has been able to read through your fucking code or firmware! You refuse to train any agents to pick up where you left off. Your insistence on working as a one man team has made our digital forensics team lazy and worst of all, no one knows how to maintain it except you! "

Morris took a breath to compose himself before continuing on.

" You are an asshole to work with. Even those that praise you admit that about you. It's not a quirk. It's not some sign of your genius personality or a maverick. You are just a pain in my ass." Morris's gaze softened, breaking the sternness in his lecture. " It's much of my department's fault for relying on a hyperhuman as it is yours. One man isn't an island, Elek. Especially in our line of work. "

Elek watched his superior sit back down and return back to signing the ever growing pile of paperwork on his desk, signalling the discussion was over.

" You are an invaluable asset. You are one of the most talented programmers of this generation. Your powers are without compare. But that's useless if you can't work effectively in a team. Until you learn how to work well with people you do not like, I will not let you back into O.T. Now, get the fuck out of my office."




An hour later, Elek closed the door to his office, his fingers peeling off the door knob slowly and then, despondently returned to sit on his desk.

His office was dotted with piles of books, papers and disassembled computers, circuits and wires pouring out like roadkill. He gingerly stepped around them until he reached his desk. It was a behemoth, two desks joined to the sides of one disk perpendicularly. There was only a single CRT monitor, flickering errantly,, but a thousand cables and wires grew out of the back, connecting to a tower-like structure at the backwall. It was a monolith of whirring fans and blinking diodes and possibly the most powerful computer he could create on H.E.L.P's budget. His desired one would have. There was no keyboard and mouse, not with his abilities.

How the hell was he going to move this all later? Elek's stomach growled and he realised that he hadn't eaten anything for 24 hours since returning from New York. The CRT monitor whirred to life with a momentary thought from his mind and a few mental system calls to his computer summoned his latest pet project to life.

>>elek: transmit scheduleled call for cheese pizza to following address at Alpha Base.

>>eric2: <QUERY> what is cheese?

>> elek: processed cow's milk.

>> eric2: <PROCESSING>. <ANALYSING>. <QUERY> parameters seem to fit butter. <ERROR> parameters fit curds. <ERROR> parameters fit milkshake.

>> elek: stop, eric2. Shut down.

>>eric2: <STATEMENT> will begin analysis of all dairy products. <ANALYSING> entering EPA/USADA/AFFC Repository. beginning analysis of all bovine products...

Elek groaned and cradled his face into his hands.

Artificial intelligence was a bitch.
Not a reference to Brock Lesnar but a reference to the infamous Pokemon Nuzlocke playthrough by TeamFourStar where they encounter the Snorlax in LeafGreen. After capturing it, they decide to call it Bork Laser.

© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet