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City-building game(s)

Found 52 results

  1. Fox in the Henhouse Part 1

    Hi everyone and apologies for the enormous delay. SC4 has not been kind to me of late; endless CTD issues have plagued me to no end. It was almost at the point of giving up as nothing seemed to work. I zoom in and CRASH! I load a bigger city and CRASH! I load a tile that's never crashed and CRASH! Needless to say, I've been discouraged. I have several chapters in reserve and no pictures to post with! Today I got lucky. I managed to get SC4 stable for a couple of hours and got what I needed. The shots aren't the best, so I appreciate your patience. Here we go... Fox in the Hen House Part 1 Shandiz Restaurant seemed like the perfect spot for the meet. Not too busy and in the heart of the embassy district, the cuisine was good and the wait staff friendly. Carol hadn’t had to wait long before being joined by a lone, heavy-set local. She had marked him earlier when she came in, standing near the entrance fidgeting and clearly expectant. “I am Abu Bakaar. You are from Stark,” he declared in a heavy accent. Carol simply nodded as he sat opposite her. He waved impatiently at the waiter, who became suddenly apprehensive at his joining Carol. No longer as openly friendly, the server moved alongside the man, all the while casting furtive, almost pleading glances at Carol. He ordered Goat Karahi and with a grudging glare at Carol, Reshmi Kabab. “May I have…” she began and was immediately cut off. “You will eat what I’ve ordered, American.” The flustered waiter begged off and rushed to the kitchen to place the order. Carol calmly looked him in the eye, “I’m not American…” “Liar! But it is of no consequence! You have the package? That’s all that matters.” She reached down to the metal case at her side, “Yes, it’s right here and…” “I am obligated to dine with you,” he interrupted, “but not to converse! You are nothing to me, cow.” So that’s how it is, Carol thought. Fine. The meal came and they dined in silence; him occasionally scowling at her, while she studiously ignored him. What didn’t escape her notice was that the restaurant had cleared out fairly quickly, with only their terrified waiter remaining. The meal went on far too long for her liking as Bakaar grabbed the lion’s share, permitting her only a few morsels. Resigning herself mainly to water, she sat with arms crossed as he finished off the meal, belching loudly. The waiter hurriedly cleared their dishes away and scurried to the kitchen with a final, pitying glance in her direction. “And now, woman, you will give me the money and come with me. You are my prisoner,” he laughed. “Actually? You’re seriously expecting me to just up and come with you? Where’s Stark? You’re getting nothing until you hand him over.” He brought his hands above the table with a hateful look in his eye. He held a Beretta M9 pistol, levelled directly at her. Pretty smooth, Carol noted, as she hadn’t even noticed Bakaar draw on her. “Stand up! Did you really expect us to hand Stark over to you? They will pay, and pay again and we will finally send him back, piece by piece. Perhaps they will be able to reassemble his parts in the factory,” he sneered. “In the meantime, foolish woman, not only will he craft many powerful weapons for us, but you will make a fine addition to our flock.” Carol stood meekly as he roughly ran his hands over her, frisking for weapons of her own. He made sure to cross the line into groping as Carol envisioned putting him headfirst through the wall. Keeping her cool, she endured the indignity as he finally grabbed the metal briefcase and pushed her toward the door. She was shoved roughly into the back seat of a waiting car, next to a swarthy, bald man. Bakaar climbed into the front passenger seat and the car roared away. Bakaar turned to her and gestured towards the bald man, “This is Raza. He is your master. You will speak only when spoken to and you will do as you are commanded.” Raza barely acknowledged her presence. Carol tried her best to appear terrified and pretended to sniffle quietly, eliciting cruel laughter from Bakaar. Reaching for a box at his feet, he removed a device that looked like a portable defibrillator. He carefully balanced the case he’d confiscated on the dash and pushing the paddles on either end, applied an electric shock 3 times. Satisfied, he dropped the device back into its box and popped the latches on the case. As promised, Stark Industries had sent a lot of money. Looking smugly over his shoulder, Bakaar grinned, “Your tracking devices are destroyed. There is no hope for you, American.” Raza stared out the window, watching the streets of Kabul give way to the brown wilderness of the Afghan desert. They had headed southwest, rather than north as Director Brand had predicted. Passing through Kandahar in the early dawn hours of the second day, they moved out of allied territory and skirted the Registan Desert. After changing vehicles three separate times and eventually switching to horseback, they arrived at their destination near the Pakistani frontier two days later. Carol’s hands had been tied the entire time and her wrists were thoroughly chafed. She had been further restrained at night and kept under guard but thankfully, no one had so much as laid a finger on her, much less spoken to her. They rode through an area with camouflaged netting that served to cover crates of supplies, vehicles and weaponry, up to a cave at the base of a mountain. They dismounted and made their way deep into the cave complex, coming to a large metal door. A faint metallic banging could be heard within. Raza waved away his men and when they were alone, he addressed Carol in a fine British accent, “You’re from Stark Industries and obviously are highly valuable, otherwise they would not have sent you. Are you a scientist or an accountant?” Carol thought quickly, grateful for her military service, “I’m an engineer. I worked on the GPS upgrade for the GBU-32 JDAM ‘smart bomb’ before being promoted to VP of the Precision Ordnance division.” She was unsure of whether such a position existed but Raza was visibly satisfied. “That’s good, very impressive,” he nodded, “I have a new project for you; just yesterday Mr. Stark agreed to build us a mighty weapon and you will aid him. He already has an assistant, but you are clearly an outstanding addition to his team. Once the weapon has been completed, we will release you.” She knew they wouldn’t. “And if I refuse?” Raza shrugged, “You should probably not,” and called out. Immediately, two armed men ran back to his side and undid her bonds. He unlatched the door and the banging stopped instantly. Raza strode in, followed by Carol and the guards. The area was clearly a workshop, with tools and parts of all description strewn about. Two men stood at the far end of the workshop, hands behind their heads and eyes cast down. Carol barely recognized Tony, who’d clearly been subjected to multiple beatings. More disconcerting were the wires leading from beneath the bandages around his chest, connected to a car battery on the workshop table. “Mr. Stark,” Raza called out and, looking up, Tony saw her immediately. The dismay on his face was scarcely concealed as Raza continued, “I’ve brought you a gift. Now you and Yinsen, “he pointed to the other, bespectacled old man, “will help me smite my enemies with 1000 times more precision.” To be continued...
  2. No Rest for the Weary

    No Rest for the Weary Carol smiled as she motored down the highway. Since Hammerhead’s arrest, the demand on her time had plummeted, with a corresponding drop in crime. The Maggia’s back was broken and the organization appeared to be in a death spiral. A few small-scale busts had followed the take-down; the failing efforts of desperate individuals wallowing in a power vacuum feeding upon each other. The hands-free began to chime and Carol sighed, shaken from her reflections. She glanced at the screen, seeing it was Bobbi Morse and happily took the call. “Hey Bobbi, how are you?” “Well, that depends on your point of view. Are you busy?” “I’m just on the highway heading to the Palladium resort. I have a week booked there all by myself. I kind of earned it, I figure. So yeah, a little bit busy.” Silence met her response and Carol could just feel it coming. “What’s wrong?” she asked before Bobbi could continue. “I’m so sorry,” Bobbi’s voice faltered, “I think you’re the only one that can help. There’s been a kidnapping…” “Oh,” Carol shook her head in confusion, “but what about your team? Felicia alone could probably get that handled, considering her specialty.” “Carol, it’s in Afghanistan…” What the..? Carol furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of the situation. Why is S.W.O.R.D. even involved with a kidnapping? Truthfully Bobbi had been Carol’s rock during her recovery, after being ambushed at the warehouse. Carol may well owe Bobbi her very life, if she was being honest with herself. Ultimately there was no debate as to whether she would help Bobbi without hesitation. Carol looked wistfully at the highway exit sign coming up. Either she headed south at the exit, or follow the highway and end up at S.W.O.R.D. With a sigh she watched her turn off pass by. “Tony’s been taken. Can you come? To S.W.O.R.D.?” Bobbi’s voice was wavering. $#!%. Carol weighed the benefits of slamming on the brakes and reversing back to her exit. Bobbi? You’re cutting out. I can’t hear you. *click* "Don’t worry, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.” Bobbi’s relief was audible and Carol was headed north towards S.W.O.R.D.’s facility. Carol and Bobbi were joined by Abigail Brand, director of S.W.O.R.D. Carol sat quietly as Bobbi played back the ransom video. “In a follow-up message, they demanded the funds be transferred electronically. If we do that, we can be sure that we’ll never see Tony again. I have a plan, but again you’re the only one that can pull it off. We need an asset on the ground for a physical transfer of the ransom, insisting that an exchange takes place - we give them the cash and they hand over Tony. So here’s the plan…” Director Brand outlined her expectations for the exchange and what possible scenarios could take place. Carol countered with some observations and pointed out glaring weaknesses in the plan. “But that’s just it, don’t you see? The flaws are so obvious that they can’t likely help but take advantage,” Bobbi enthused and Carol nodded slowly in understanding. “Once we get them to agree to the hand-off, we’ll arrange for you to fly to Kabul. We’ll do our best to negotiate for the meet to take place there but may need to accept a secondary location. Since Kabul is ostensibly under allied control, they may insist on a meet in less friendly territory.” Director Brand pointed Carol toward a tactical map on another screen, “Allied forces had been advancing on an area around Gulmira when Tony was taken. He’d been there for a weapons demo and the convoy ambush happened on the way back toward more friendly territory. Given the proximity of the ambush to Gulmira, we can reasonably expect him to be somewhere within a 50x50 mile area. More than likely somewhere in the mountains and caves to the north.” “That’s 2500 square miles!” Carol exclaimed, then leaned back in her chair, coming to a sudden realization. She looked slowly back and forth at the two seated opposite her and crossed her arms, “None of you can fly, can you? That’s why you think I can make this work.” Bobbi nodded glumly, “You’re right. I have a guy that can infuse objects with energy; a blind guy with borderline ESP; a woman that can jinx people; an introvert that can manipulate electricity and a schizophrenic ex-mercenary who gets ridiculously strong at night. Who would you send?” “Me,” Carol sighed. “What about having the team as backup?” Bobbi pulled up her team on the screen, “Have a look. Any backup would stick out like a sore thumb over there and the op fails.” “Okay, I’ll do it. But you know I’m not bullet-proof, right? If I have to blow my cover, Stark is as good as dead.” “That’s why you’ll need this,” Director Brand reached beneath the table and handed her a case. Carol inspected the contents and rubbed the red and blue material between her fingers, “Is it… um, graphete?” Bobbi nodded, “Yes, it’s roughly your size and will stretch like Lycra for fit. It’s as light and comfortable as cotton and you can wear it under your civilian clothes over there.” She made a gesture as if to say, “Voila, now you’re bullet-proof.” Carol frowned at the rank insignia, designating her a Captain, “I retired at the rank of Major. This is kind of a demotion.” “Well, we’re not really a regular armed force here,” Brand explained, “and Major Marvel doesn’t really roll off of the tongue does it? We could promote you, but does Colonel Marvel or Brigadier General Marvel work for you?” Carol made a face, “Touché. Captain Marvel it is!” She stared intently at the screen that had displayed the ransom video, paused now on a grim image of Tony surrounded by his abductors. Negotiations took over a week but eventually an agreement for Tony’s release was secured for $27.2 million USD. Carol would pose as a Stark Industries executive and deliver the ransom personally. She had reviewed her itinerary with mild disgust; first leg to Hong Kong and a nine hour layover. From there to Delhi with an 18 hour layover and finally on to Kabul, Afghanistan and a meet with the Ten Rings organization. “Gah, I could fly there faster on my own,” she remarked. Unfortunately, to maintain her cover, doing so was out of the question. She settled into the business-class seat in 12K and resigned herself to the lengthy voyage. “Stark had better appreciate this.” To be continued... @dabadon5 @BLANKBLANK Thanks for the positive feedback! I really appreciate it.
  3. Takedown

    Takedown Prospects were starting to look positive. Felicia and Dr. Morse’s introduction had gone smoothly and the two had begun training the very next day. Bobbi had agreed with Carol that martial arts training would teach Felicia the clarity of mind and focus needed to gain fine control over her powers. The hope was that Felicia would eventually become a hero in her own right. Curves ahead brought Carol back from her musing and she pushed her powerful sports car hard into the turns. The hands-free system rang and Carol quickly glanced at the caller ID on the console. It read, “The Snitch.” Bear Cattoni was his actual name. He’d once been a stunt man and had fallen in with some shady characters as his opportunities had dried up. He’d broken down in tears when Carol busted the operation he’d been a part of, begging her to help him get out. In spite of the previous ambush at Hunters Warehouse, she agreed to give him a chance. To his credit, he’d proven himself to be a valuable source of inside information. She thumbed the button to answer the call, “Hello Bear, how’s my favourite narc?” “Oh, you’re hilarious,” came Bear’s gravel-voiced reply, “I got what ya wanted.” “Hang on Bear. I need to pull over.” The call couldn’t have come at a more opportune moment. There was a rest stop exit coming up immediately and Carol swung the Lamborghini off the highway to park. Had the call come a minute later, she would have been deep inside a tunnel. She retrieved her tablet, telling Bear to continue. “He’s at the Eureka Tower on the 90th floor, Suite 9008. Dial 5155 on the access panel.” “Seriously? The one with the gold-plated windows? Figures…” Carol rolled her eyes as she typed, “How credible is this intel?” “I was there last night. It’s his place all right. Had a bunch of girls come by to entertain us too, if you know what I mean. Look, if you get in there, you can’t pin it on me, ok? I helped you out like I promised. I want out of that life. I want to be around for my daughter.” “Don’t worry Bear. I won’t say any more than I have to.” Carol ended the call and pulled the car back out onto the highway. She mashed the accelerator hard, smoking her tires and heading back towards the city. “Looks like I’ve got a date tonight after all,” she grinned. Hours later, a lone figure sashayed up to the Eureka Tower and entered the secured foyer. She punched in a code on the security panel and a moment later Hammerhead’s gruesome face appeared on the display. “What?” he spat, clearly annoyed by the interruption. “Hi, it’s Stacey from last night. Remember me? I was kinda hoping that maybe you might want to see me again.” “Stacey… yeah, sure. I remember you. Leave ya coat and bag wit da door guy. I can’t remember his &%@$# name. You know da apartment, right?” “Yes, 9008. I can’t wait!” The display went blank as Hammerhead buzzed her in. Carol almost laughed, it was so easy. “Appeal to his ego and he’ll do whatever I want,” she thought to herself as she headed straight to the elevator and up to the 90th floor. A knock at the door to 9008 was answered quickly by Hammerhead himself. “Come on in, toots.” With a coy smile, she cocked her head to one side, “Is it just you and me tonight?” He nodded smugly, opened the door and stood aside to let her in. As she passed, Carol wound up and punched him hard in the side before he could react. She felt the bone crunch with the impact and Hammerhead dropped to the ground, groaning. She’d almost yelled out, “Right to the Getsuei,” and had to stifle a laugh. “My ribs,” he gasped, clutching his side, “What the #&@%, you broke my #&@%ing ribs!” Carol made a mental note to thank Mockingbird and closed the door behind her. “Who else is here?” A string of curses was the only response. Apparently he intended to impregnate Carol’s mother..? She caught him reaching feebly into the blazer he wore and mercilessly put her knee into his chest. He gasped in pain as she grabbed the pistol he was trying to retrieve. “Nice Sig,” she remarked, a comment on his Sig Sauer P227. She took a moment to admire the heft of it in her palm. It was nicely weighted, and fit her grasp comfortably. She cleared the chamber and popped out the magazine to reveal .45 calibre hollow points. Satisfied, she clapped the magazine back into place and reloaded the chamber. She looked down at the incapacitated gangster with a scowl. “What… are ya… gonna do? Shoot me?” he wheezed. Ignoring him, she checked the safety and shoved the Sig in the back of her waistband. Carol then roughly flipped him over, eliciting another agonized gasp. With a knee in the small of his back, she drew out a pair of handcuffs and wrenched his arms behind his back. He cried out in pain and Carol looked to ensure there was no one coming to his aid. “Unreal. A pretty girl comes on to you and you let her up here. You, all alone with no backup. I have no idea how you got this far in life, you’re so #&@%ing dumb. But you’re through. Hammerhead, you’re under arrest.” Carol dragged him to his feet and marched him out the door and off to meet his fate before the courts. Not so far away from the action, another scenario was coming to a conclusion. In a well-appointed office, a large wall-mounted TV displayed Hammerhead’s downfall live. A single click on the red ‘X’ terminated the video feed from a well-positioned drone. A very large man stood up and waved at two well-dressed men across from him, who had their guns trained on a third. “You’ve done well, Bear. You’re free to go,” he nodded to the guards and they holstered their weapons. Bear fairly leapt to his feet, “And that’s it? You aren’t going to come after me, right?” “You have my word. You’ve done me a great service today. While I wouldn’t quite say that I’m in your debt, I’ll allow that you’ve earned your discharge. This woman has removed my only real opposition. Perhaps I should send her some flowers! Are you certain you don’t want to share her name?” Bear’s panicked expression was answer enough. “A shame,” the big man sighed, “My erstwhile rival will find to his chagrin, that our justice system will offer no leniency to a man of his ‘numerous transgressions’. Quite unfortunate that any request for bail will be similarly rejected,” He shook his head in mock sympathy, continuing, “and once Don Rigoletto ‘retires,’ Wilson Fisk will be the head of the Maggia. The Kingpin, if you will.” Fisk paused a moment, “Yes, I like that.” “The Kingpin.” Bear turned and fled the office, wondering helplessly if playing both sides had been such a clever ploy after all. The only response was laughter behind him. To be continued... @korver Thanks! I really appreciate your support! @Ln X I've been talking up this mosaic for ages. The highway image is the one you've inspired and I thank you so much for the examples you've provided.
  4. Hammered Part IV

    Hammered Part IV Don Rigoletto was the true head of the Maggia family. The machinations he’d put into play to protect his interests had cost him several valuable assets. His Lieutenant now stood before him to inform him that it had been for naught. Hammerhead ran his fingers through his thinning hair, feeling the flattened surface of his reconstructed head. Knowing the fate of those who’d previously failed the Don set him further on edge. He’d been summoned to the Don’s yacht to account for his failure to capture Ms. Marvel. The analysis was brief and to the point as the one thing you didn’t do with Don Rigoletto was beat around the bush. “…and when we went back in to find out what was takin’ so long, da dame was gone an’ my guys was busted up.” There was a long silence and Hammerhead fidgeted nervously. He eyed the capo standing guard a few feet away, a gun sitting within easy reach in its holster. Glancing down, he was somewhat relieved that there was no drop cloth at his feet. No drop cloth means no blood spatter - perhaps he’d be treated leniently. Finally the Don looked up from the table where he’d been receiving a massage. Grunting appreciatively at a knot being worked out of his shoulders, he waved dismissively to the attractive woman at his side. Recognizing the need for privacy she swiftly went below deck. He spoke softly, in a voice like crushed gravel and tinged with a heavy Italian accent, “So, you’re telling me that after all that planning, you let that puttana get away? Do you have any idea how much she’s costing me? 40 years I’ve been building this famiglia and in 6 months she’s taken out over twenty percent of my business!!!” His voice rose in fury, “6 months!!! A quarter of a billion dollars!!! And you let her get away. Stronso!” He shook his head angrily, “Get me Fisk.” “Fisk? You can’t be serious boss, dat guy’s got no respect. He can’t be trusted!” Don Rigoletto pointed a finger at Hammerhead, “Basta! He’s got no respect for you! I said get me Fisk and count yourself lucky that you’re not sleeping with the fishes tonight. Now get off my boat.” He lay back down muttering, “Where the hell is Carla?” Hammerhead left without another word. It wasn’t a long walk back down the pier to his limousine but it felt like one of the longest walks of his life. Wilson Fisk was one of the rising stars of the Maggia, providing valuable business acumen and ruthless action when necessary. Hammerhead had recognized the threat Fisk posed to his own position and had manoeuvered him into several difficult situations. To his frustration, Fisk always seemed to escape those traps unscathed. Worse, it had forced the Don to take notice. And now Fisk had been gifted an opportunity to succeed in the wake of Hammerhead’s own failure. His driver held the door open for him and hurried to start the car. “Boss?” “Take me to da #@%$& tower,” he snarled. Across town, Felicia Hardy had just retrieved her mail and trudged wearily up the stairs to her apartment. Keeping positive had become a struggle. It seemed of late that all of her friends and family were avoiding her, apparently for good reason with all the bad luck following her around. The latch unlocked with reluctance as she had to jiggle the keys to make it turn. One of these days the landlord might actually respond to her complaints and fix it. Then again, she also may win the lottery, she mused with a derisive grin. “This loneliness is really starting to get to me,” she thought as she placed her cell phone and mail on the kitchen counter and reached into her liquor cabinet above the fridge. The lack of contents forced her to recall last night’s binge that had ended with her passed out on the sofa and a large booze stain on the carpet. A buzzing from the kitchen counter brought her back into the present. She retrieved the phone and unlocked it to find a waiting text. Her hope for a friendly chat was dashed by the unknown number on the screen. With a sigh she opened the message in anticipation of spam and was surprised by what she read. She quickly keyed in a reply and got a response soon afterwards. “Well, why not? I’ve always wanted to try sushi and it’s not like anyone else is asking me out.” To be continued...
  5. Hammered Part II

    Hammered Part II The room was dark and she awoke to a pounding headache and complete disorientation. Rolling off the bed, every step was agonizing. White spots dominated her vision and a wave of nausea slowed her progress. Carol paused to take stock of her surroundings. The cold, tiled floor was the first clue that she wasn’t in her home. The lack of medical equipment meant it also couldn’t be a hospital despite the fact that she wore a medical gown. A plain wardrobe and pedestal sink stood opposite the bed. There was a curtain on one side of the room and, ignoring the pain in her head, she pulled back the blinds. There was only a blank wall, not a window. She gingerly padded over to the door. Reaching for the handle, Carol was startled when it turned and swung open. A young woman on the other side narrowly avoided being cold-cocked when Carol checked her swing. “Well, that’s not very gracious of you,” the young woman laughed. “Please get back in your bed. You’re suffering from a concussion.” She took Carol’s arm and guided her back to lay on the bed. “I’m Dr. Barbara Morse, but you can call me Bobbi.” “This isn’t a hospital,” Carol croaked, “Where am I?” “No it isn’t a hospital, not exactly, although you’re receiving the best care available. You’ve been out of it for a few days now. You’re lucky we found you when we did.” The memory of her fight with Hammerhead came rushing back. Feeling her aching elbow, she recalled landing a blow on what felt like solid steel. “It’s a bone contusion,” Bobbi nodded, “You should be grateful that it wasn’t completely shattered. We believe that his skull is lined with a woven Adamantium or similar alloy. Based on the files we’ve reviewed on your tablet, that’s about the only thing about him we knew and you didn’t.” Carol relaxed a bit, realizing that she hadn’t been captured by the Maggia. “I realize that this must be a bit unusual for you,” Bobbi continued, “but we’ve been trying to find you for quite some time.” “Not that unusual,” Carol chuckled to herself, thinking of Felicia and Oracle. “We finally got a fix on you and followed you to the Hunters Warehouse. Hammerhead had knocked you out cold and it looked like things were about to get really ugly when we stepped in.” “Who do I have to thank for that?” “Agent Mockingbird tracked you down,” was the reply from a well-dressed man just entering the room, “and barely got there in time to save your sorry butt.” Striding confidently to Carol’s bedside, a hand casually resting in his pants pocket, he appraised Carol with a raised eyebrow. He was handsome, sporting an immaculately groomed goatee, dark glasses and slightly greying hair. “If it’s possible, I’d like to meet him and say thanks,” Carol asked wearily. Her earlier walk around the room had taxed her and she was growing tired. “Not him - her,” the man pointed at Bobbi. “You’re welcome,” Bobbi nodded, “Now get some rest. You may need a couple of days off your feet still but your recuperative abilities are off the charts so it may be quicker than I expect.” “I need to get in touch with my office. They’ll be worried about me.” “We’ve taken care of it,” the suit guy frowned. “Uhh, ok? So, who are you and where am I?” Carol inquired. “You’ve been brought to the Sentient World Observation and Response Department’s facility. S.W.O.R.D., for short.” He paused, waiting for a reaction that wasn’t coming. With a shrug he continued, “S.W.O.R.D.’s mandate is to manage extra-terrestrial individuals and events which is how you popped up on our radar. There really isn’t much we can do about it just yet but we’re aware of what you could call a UFO in orbit. It’s not much of a stretch to connect it to more and more people like you suddenly appearing.” “Still not answering my question.” “I’m offended,” he said, stretching out the words and pulling off his glasses, “that you don’t know. Those were my missiles hanging off of your jet, Major. I’m Tony Stark. I also fund this organization. Now get some rest and we’ll talk about your little misadventure soon.” He abruptly turned and walked out. Carol stared incredulously at the back of his head and looked to Dr. Morse, who’d stood silently throughout the exchange. Bobbi could only nod in agreement when Carol flatly stated, “What a jerk.” To be continued...
  6. Hammered Part I

    Things had gotten a little interesting. Carol had discovered the existence of a mob ring called the Maggia, apparently run by a boss calling himself Hammerhead. She also had inadvertently triggered an anomaly in a woman she’d saved, who’d later become her client. Now her job was to track herself down for a meeting with the client and somehow guide the client into becoming another of Earth’s protectors much as she, herself, had become. “Well, first things first,” she mused. She’d been sitting on one of her perches overlooking Hunters Warehouse, a building Carol now knew for certain to be a front for the Maggia. She’d had the building under surveillance for several months and the leads thus generated had helped her collect enough evidence to make a bust. Hammerhead’s timing had been consistent to this point, so as long as he kept to his schedule Ms. Marvel would make a guest appearance this evening. After one last sweep of the site, she put her field glasses away but left the camera operating. The live feed on her tablet looked good and it joined the binoculars in her backpack. She flew from the observation site to return to her car in a nearby parking garage and circled the area a couple of times to make sure no one was on the upper level. Approaching with cover from the side of a nearby building, she landed as close to the upper level exit as possible. Finding the area clear, she ducked into the stairwell and pulled on a coat retrieved from her backpack. She made her way quickly and unnoticed, back to her car – one a little less conspicuous than her Lamborghini. Back at the office, Carol pulled out the warehouse blueprints to work through her plan for the evening. She reviewed her entry point on the seventh floor and the path to the main office area where she expected to find Hammerhead and his attendants. She counted on having to beat up a few guards along the way but anticipated only light resistance. Despite the size of the building, there never seemed to be more than twenty occupants at any given time. It was critical that she be fast and careful since being inside would negate a lot of her advantages in flight and manoeuverability. She’d never been shot but she was aware that her invulnerability would not make her bulletproof. Her closest brush had come when a thrown knife had grazed her left thigh and caused a nasty gash but thankfully the cut hadn’t been overly deep. It had left her with much more grounded expectations of her abilities. So what to do about Felicia Hardy? Carol knew that was an issue she’d have to address but had to find a credible way of arranging a meet, while preserving the integrity of her dual identity. Reflecting a moment on Felicia’s claim of being jinxed, she had to take it at face value given the existence of her own incredible abilities. She only hoped that the bad luck that had led Felicia to hire her was the extent of the trouble. That evening, Carol put her plan into action, infiltrating the warehouse and subduing a couple of random grunts with ease. After gagging and securing them, she opened the access door to the catwalk above the main warehouse space and crept silently outward. From her vantage point on the catwalk there was a clear view to the main office area below. Oddly, the warehouse seemed quite empty for the amount of activity that had taken place during the past few months of surveillance. “No time to worry about that right now.” By her reckoning, Hammerhead should arrive any moment. She wasn’t disappointed. He strode in with an arrogant swagger. The few men in the office welcomed the new arrivals and one of them produced what appeared to be a ledger. Hammerhead took a seat at the desk to review and Ms. Marvel made her move. She flew down from the catwalk and took out three of the five henchmen in the room before anyone realized what was happening. Hammerhead leapt to his feet and shouted, “It’s da broad! Get her!” The other two pulled their guns as Ms. Marvel advanced on them. A solid punch to the temple crumpled the first, while she blasted the other with an energy bolt from her outstretched hand. Sensing Hammerhead moving up behind her, she struck out with her elbow and made contact, staggering him, but the blinding pain that met her blow stopped her cold. Shaking off the stars in his own vision, Hammerhead returned the favour with a head butt that dropped her into unconsciousness. “And dat’s why dey calls me Hammerhead,” he growled at her prone form. He took a glass of water from the desk and threw it into his henchman’s face. “Wake up, ya bum,” he sneered, then motioned to a couple of figures lurking deep in the shadows, “You two idiots get out here. We gots what we came for.” Two more unseen goons emerged from where they lay in wait, exclaiming, “Great plan boss! She never saw it coming.” “Awright, I don’t need you blowing sunshine up my butt,” Hammerhead snorted. Gesturing at the fallen hero, he continued, “An’ I don’t like being the bait to land this fish. Kneecap da broad and get her to the Don. I’m done here.” He snapped his fingers at his wet and groggy henchman, “Go get da #%@$ car.” The hapless driver scrambled to his feet and scurried to hold open the door. Hammerhead stomped out, muttering a string of curses and ignoring the other unconscious members of his gang. The two remaining men looked at each other and once out of earshot they relaxed visibly. “Kneecap da broad? Who talks like that?” the first laughed. “Come on. You know he thinks he’s a freakin’ ‘30’s gangster like John Dillinger or Pretty Boy Floyd,” he pointed to the fedora on his head, “Why do you think he makes us wear these get-ups? That doctor who put his head back together must’ve missed a few screws. Now do what he said and hobble her.” “Why me? You got a gun!” “Just do it, ya whiner.” He laughed, shoving his partner good-naturedly. “I dunno… shooting a defenseless woman? Doesn’t feel right.” “What are ya, Mother Teresa? Put a pill in ‘da broad’,” he mocked. “Ohh, that’s cold,” thug number one laughed and raised his weapon. Neither of them noticed the figure creeping up silently behind them. To be continued...
  7. I'm Super Part III

    Something didn’t make sense. It had been an entire evening wasted, sitting at her desk, poring over her surveillance photos. Carol was certain she was missing some important details. After the punk had given up all the information on the Maggia, Carol had kept Hunters Warehouse under watch. The ability to fly had made it laughably easy to find perches on which to set up her cameras. She had noticed a pattern evolve over the course of the next few weeks of watching the building. While delivery trucks would come and go, there was always a particular vehicle that would show up at the same time every evening. The occupants were always well-dressed and met by a party of men from the building. One in particular seemed to attract a lot of their attention. “That must be Hammerhead,” she reasoned. Invariably, they would stay for exactly two hours and return to their car and depart. What she couldn’t figure out was that if he were a crime boss, what was he doing spending time in the trenches? Why would he want to be directly tied to his operation? A restless night passed and she was early to the office the next day to continue the analysis. She frowned as the phone on her desk rang. It was her receptionist, calling to inform Carol that her 10 o’clock appointment had arrived. She stood to receive her client and put on her best smile. As the door swung open, the smile froze on her face. She had met this client once before. “Good morning Ms. Hardy, I’m Carol Danvers,” she stammered. Recovering quickly, Carol shook her hand and motioned for her client to be seated. “How can I help you?” Her client sat and replied, “Please call me Felicia. I have uh… an unusual problem. A couple of months ago I was attacked and very nearly sexually assaulted. I told the police that I fought back and got in a lucky shot but that’s not what happened at all!” Felicia told Carol the story of how she’d actually been rescued by Ms. Marvel but in the days and weeks that followed, strange things had begun to occur. “Something happened to me that night, I’m sure of it. Everywhere I go, people seem to have bad luck. It’s not all the time, but since that night it feels like bad luck is following me around.” Carol fidgeted in her seat, “I’m not sure how I can help you, Felicia. I…” “Please don’t tell me I need to talk to a psychiatrist,” Felicia interrupted, “I already have and it’s not all in my head. Halfway through my appointment, his chair broke and he hurt his back!” She paused a moment to collect herself, “Please. Please,” she implored, “Can you help me find Ms. Marvel?” Reaching into her purse, she retrieved that day’s newspaper and placed it face up on Carol’s desk. The cover story clearly showed a security camera still of a costumed woman brawling with a group of tough-looking characters. “You see? She really exists. I need to talk to her and find out what happened to me. I don’t know what else to do or where to turn. I’m at the end of my rope!” She put her head in her hands, obviously distraught. Carol leaned back in her chair and nodded slowly. A slight creak form the chair made her jump and Felicia glanced up, alarmed. They looked at each other and laughed. “Ok Felicia. I’ll find her. We’ll get this figured out.” Felicia was visibly relieved. Carol went through some documents with her to formalize their contract and sent her on her way. “Of all the miserable luck!” Carol thought as she closed the door behind Felicia. “What are the chances she would come to me? She’s not kidding about being a jinx.” Carol leaned forward and let her forehead hit the door softly. The sound of someone being seated in her leather chair behind her snapped her to attention. She whirled on the intruder and her shoulders immediately sagged. “Ugh,” she rolled her eyes and groaned, “Hello Oracle.” The white-haired alien seated at her desk smiled broadly and clapped her hands, “Congratulations Carol! You’ve activated her anomaly.” Carol shot her unwelcome guest an icy scowl, “Yeah? So how did I do that and just how was I supposed to know she had it?” “Of course you had no way of knowing,” Oracle assured her with sympathetic nod, “but apparently the anomaly can be naturally triggered during an incidence of extreme stress or duress. Once catalyzed, the anomaly cannot be reversed. It is as much a part of you as your consciousness. Whether the powers unlocked can be effectively utilized or otherwise controlled is up to the individual. In Felicia Hardy’s case, her ‘aura’ is causing hardship to others. With time and effort, she could conceivably have direct control over the ability to influence fortune. She could be a valuable ally, Carol. Or if left to her own devices, she could come to resent her ability, much like a festering wound and become a powerful foe. Her fate is largely in your hands.” Carol turned to look out the window. In the plaza below there was a group of cyclists gathering and crowds were going about their business, oblivious to the drama unfolding across the street. She was silent a moment in reflection and finally replied, “So clearly she’s right and the bad luck isn’t a coincidence. The fact she even found me proves that her power is working. How else do I explain that wretched turn of events?” She looked back over her shoulder to Oracle as the only reply was silence. Naturally, the chair was empty. To be continued...
  8. I'm Super Part II

    Carol was exhausted. Fighting crime had become a full-time occupation. She’d chosen to terminate her consulting position with the Air Force and established a private investigation firm to better support her new career. A corner office in the Centre Quatre Saisons fit her needs perfectly and she already had three staff supporting her efforts. It had taken awhile to settle on becoming a P.I. but she’d found that relying on pure luck wasn’t the most effective method of vigilantism. “Is that what I am?” she pondered, “A vigilante?” Drug smuggling rings and dealers, a counterfeiting operation, human traffickers, kidnappers and a pedophile had all absorbed a dose of Ms. Marvel’s wrath. Each instance had ended similarly, the criminals had been incapacitated and left sitting on a mountain of evidence that the authorities could then deal with appropriately. The stories from the criminals were the same every time, “She called herself Ms. Marvel...” Once in a while there would be grainy security camera footage showing Ms. Marvel in the act. Occasionally Carol herself would arrest the perpetrators after the fact in order to maintain her guise as a P.I. Her latest bust had borne some interesting fruit when one of the punks had tried to bargain his way out by offering up a name. “Hammerhead!” “Who is he?” Ms. Marvel demanded, getting right up into the thug’s face. His face blanched as she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him effortlessly off his feet. “He’s running the gang! He’s the one in charge! He just calls himself Hammerhead.” The punk was desperate, spilling his guts now, “We’re the Maggia, it’s a whole organization! Like a… a family!” he stuttered, “We do our part and they take care of us!” “Where do I find him?” “No, please! They’ll kill me!” he begged. “Take a look around you, guy. You’re in no position to say no.” Ms. Marvel had been gradually floating up, ever higher while keeping him focused on her. As he finally looked away and realized how high they had flown, he began to blubber, “Oh God, please don’t let me go! Don’t drop me!” “Then tell me where to find him before my arms get tired,” and as if on cue, she let him slip slightly. He clutched at her, frantic now, “Noooo!” he wailed, “The… the Hunters Warehouse! It’s a front! That’s where they are! Please, put me down, it’s true, I swear!” Satisfied, Ms. Marvel returned the thug to where she’d busted the operation. “You’re letting me go, right?” the punk pleaded. Ms. Marvel pulled out a set of handcuffs and secured him alongside the other members of his incapacitated gang. “Now what makes you think I’d do that?” she asked, pulling out a burner phone. She dialed the police emergency line to report that there’d been a “disturbance” and help was urgently needed. Without a further thought to the offenders, she ended the call and flew off, the punk’s frantic pleas falling on deaf ears. “You crazy &$#@, you can’t leave me here! I’m dead! They’re gonna kill me!” he screamed until she was out of sight. Sirens answered in the distance and the punk was quiet for a moment. Then he began to laugh. To be continued... @123deoliveira4 Anytime is pizza time! @raynev1 Thanks! Glad you enjoyed.
  9. I'm Super Part I

    The mugger dragged his victim down a dark alley. She struggled helplessly, her hair bunched in his fist and blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Keep quiet, girlie. This’ll go a lot easier if you don’t fight,” he hissed. She nodded and whimpered in defeat. Five minutes ago, she was ordering pizza for a take-out dinner and looking forward to a relaxing evening in front of the TV. Not even ten steps after walking out of the pizza place, she was grabbed from behind, struck in the face and subdued. After a furtive glance confirming the coast was clear, the attacker produced a knife from his jacket and began to cut open her blouse with obvious intent. A cry of terror escaped her lips before someone yelled, “Stop!” At the mouth of the alley a lone figure ordered, “Get away from her!” The mugger faltered a moment, the shock of being caught quickly replaced by excitement at the realization he had a potential second victim. He quickly appraised the new arrival – blonde, fit and wearing… a bathing suit? “Oh yeah, this is just too good!” he exulted. “Come here, you. I can’t wait to double-down!” Letting go of the first victim, he advanced on the blonde. “You coming from a costume party or something?” he smirked. She was dressed like some comic-book character, in a black one-piece suit, a red sash around her waist and wearing a mask. Waving his blade menacingly, he lunged for her. It would be the last thing he did that night. In an instant, a wave of energy burst forth and struck him square in the chest. The impact knocked him backwards and he crumpled over, laying still. “You killed him!” cried the woman lying in the alleyway. “No, he’ll be ok eventually. That blast only scrambled his neurons and knocked him out.” “But… what was that? You shot him! Who are you?” A smile crept across the rescuer’s face as she helped the woman to her feet, “I’m Ms. Marvel, I’m here to help. The police are on their way – they’ll get you medical attention if you need it.” She gestured to the prone form at their feet, “This creep is going to be cooling his heels for a bit. Make sure you fill out a police report. There’s DNA evidence all over him so don’t be afraid to press charges. You’re safe now. What’s your name?” “F…Felicia…” the woman stammered, clearly on the verge of shock. A siren wailing in the distance began to draw near as Carol hugged the grateful woman. “Just tell them you managed to fight back and got lucky. They’ll never believe the truth!” The amazed woman was still staring up into the dark night at where Ms. Marvel had flown off when the police pulled into the alley. To be continued...
  10. Taken Part IV

    “You!” Carol shouted at the white-skinned alien before her, “You pushed me out into space!” Oracle pursed her lips, “Hmmm, so I did. Yet here you stand, none the worse for wear.” Carol continued, undaunted, “What have you done to me?! I should be dead from being in space! Or the cold! Or burned to a crisp! I should be dead in so many horrific ways!” As she worked herself into a fury, she failed to note either the warm, rushing sensation creeping across her skin or the glow emanating from her tightly clenched fists. Oracle calmly closed the distance between them and held out the keys she’d confiscated earlier. Carol began to snatch them away and finally noticed her hands. Startled, she broke her concentration and the glow faded away. “Wh... what?” she blurted out. “Energy manipulation is one of your abilities. With practice, you should be able to project bursts of energy and even absorb energy in defense. Surely by now you realize that you are no longer a normal human. You flew with a fifteen hundred kilogram vehicle on your shoulders and withstood an environment that should kill you in the blink of an eye. As I said, here you stand none the worse for wear.” Oracle placed the keys on the table. "You are not unique, nor are you our first. We have identified many hundreds of individuals with the anomaly. We are working tirelessly to transition many who would stand up to the Brotherhood of Badoon and defend this world. Be vigilant; the threats will be grave and will not necessarily be obvious. For as past tyrants and dictators such as Vlad Tepes or Napoleon rose to power, so too will new ones by the doing of the Brotherhood. You’re familiar with the threat posed by Daesh in your Middle East, for instance? How do you believe they came to be?” Oracle moved to the window and gestured for Carol to follow. She was hesitant, causing Oracle to smile widely. “Carol Danvers, this is your purpose. You are one of the Earth’s Guardians. You will avenge those incapable of fighting for themselves. And you will not be alone. Some will come by their powers naturally and others, like you, will need a boost. Others will fight by your side and the Shi’ar will be ever present.” She gestured to the city visible in the distance across the lake, “People will be inspired by your example. They will rally behind you. They will marvel at your exploits.” She turned to Carol and extended her hand. Carol gripped it silently and the two women shook, as if in assent. Finally Oracle spoke, “We will see each other again, of that I have no doubt. Good luck Carol Danvers.” And Oracle vanished. To be continued... @korver - Thanks! That means a lot to me coming from someone I consider to be a master of SC4!
  11. Taken Part III

    Carol Danvers was an educated woman. She owned a doctorate in physics; she’d been a Major in the Air Force; she was a candidate astronaut. She was also plummeting towards the Earth from a height of almost 700 kilometres. Carol had expected to be dead instantly from the vacuum of space. There had to be truth in what she’d been told about having super powers or how else could she survive? As the Shi’ar craft she had been pushed from faded in the distance, Carol recalled the words Oracle had spoken regarding her abilities, “How do you breathe, Carol Danvers?” The thin air rushing over her skin became steadily hotter as she realized that the friction of re-entering the atmosphere would soon reach unbearably high temperatures. She managed to right herself in her end-over-end tumble and began concentrating on how to slow her descent. She felt an odd sensation, almost like an adrenalin rush and the wind in her ears began to lessen. Eventually it stopped altogether and Carol realized she had come to a complete halt. The feeling of exhilaration was indescribable! It had taken more than an hour since she was pushed from the craft until she had managed to stop her fall. She had fallen near enough to the surface that she could make out individual contrails from passenger jets flying beneath her. She tried to gather her bearings, grateful that she’d fallen out above a very recognizable Grand Canyon. “Ok, I can fly and I’m supposed to be super-fast. Let’s see if I can figure out how to get home.” She oriented herself to the west and she flew! Gaining speed with every moment that passed, Carol made her way home. The Lamborghini was right where she’d left it. Angling down, she descended gracefully. Her landing was a lot less elegant, ending with her sprawled flat on the ground. “Guess I’ll have to work on that,” she laughed to herself. She pulled the handle but the car was locked. Patting herself down, she realized that her fob was nowhere to be found. Either it was still in orbit or it had burned up on re-entry. Recalling that Oracle mentioned enhanced strength Carol leaned into the back of the car and began to push. She was able to move it with barely any effort but the tires skidded across the rough surface of the road. Concluding that she had probably left the car in gear or engaged the parking brake, she knelt down and lifted underneath the door sill. She heaved it so easily, she nearly flipped the car on its side. Quickly, but gently, she set it back on the ground. Finding a better grip, she eventually hefted it above her and concentrated. Gradually she rose off the ground and flew the remaining distance home, grinning wildly, with a bright red Lamborghini in her grip. As she neared home, her smile faded somewhat as she realized that managing a soft landing had become her top priority. With furious determination, she eased towards the ground and managed to deposit the Lamborghini without a blemish. Without her keys, she had to enter through the garage. Waiting in her living room stood Oracle. “Hello Carol. I’ve brought you a gift,” she smiled and held out her hand. It was Carol’s keys. To be continued...
  12. Taken Part II

    In orbit above the Earth, a remarkable conversation is taking place... Carol was dumbfounded, “How do you know my name? And why am I not freaking out over all of this?” For your own well-being, you’ve received a mild sedative. We’ve been observing you and others like you for quite some time. We know you as well as you know yourself, otherwise we would not have brought you here.” “Where is here? Who are you and what do you mean, ‘at war’?” The white-skinned alien continued, “I am a representative of the Shi’ar Empire. Your word for me would be Oracle.” She reflected a moment, “Yes, you may call me Oracle.” She followed Carol’s gaze to the bug-eyed helmet cradled in her arm, “An environmental suit. We couldn’t have you getting sick by being exposed to us prematurely. You, yourself have been in a pressure suit many times, have you not?” Carol nodded. “For hundreds of years, the Earth has been under indirect attack by the Brotherhood of Badoon. Your planet has been declared a neutral territory between all of the major interstellar empires. Given its strategic value, the Earth would most likely eventually be destroyed as a result of the efforts of those who would bring it into their respective empires. Rather than allow that to happen, a treaty had been signed that would see the Earth forge its own destiny among the stars. Thus the Earth was declared off-limits until such time as it could determine its own path either as Empire or as subject.” Oracle reached down and began releasing Carol’s bonds, “It has proven impossible to substantiate the actions of the Badoon, and thus we remain bound by the constraints of the treaty to not come to the direct aid of the Earth.” Carol was puzzled, “So why are you telling me this? Why did you bring me… wherever we are?” “To help you help yourselves,” Oracle smiled. “Don’t fret, Major Danvers. Look upon your planet as it is now.” She gestured and the wall opposite began to shimmer and change color. It resolved into an image of the Earth far below and Carol realized that they must be in orbit above the planet. “Since the Badoon are able to indirectly attack; we can surely indirectly assist in your defense. The Badoon have been responsible for some of your planet’s most tyrannical leaders. Attila, Temujin and Hitler are but a few through whom they’ve attempted to gain control over your world.” “So what do you expect me to do about it?” Carol scoffed. “You’re going to help me help myself? How? By teaching me how to fly my jet and frag some ISIL grunt a little quicker? Better yet, make like Luke Skywalker and blow up these Badoon like the Death Star?” Oracle laughed, “Not even close. Your race possesses genetic anomalies similar to those found among many of our own races and those among other Stellar Empires. We have long suspected a common origin, and the concept has apparently not been lost on the Brotherhood of Badoon. These anomalies seem to lie dormant for the most part until they are stimulated either naturally or artificially. Once activated, those who possess the anomalies unlock immense abilities.” “So what does that have to do with me? Are you saying I have the anomaly? How do I unlock my power?” “Your session with Haella earlier has catalysed your anomaly. Her analysis reveals that you have many abilities. Among them; energy manipulation, enhanced strength, limited invulnerabilities, flight and enhanced speed.” Oracle turned and moved toward the image of the Earth on the wall as Carol rose from the bed. Carol tried to process the information as she made her way to Oracle’s side. She was quiet as the two women stared at the Earth, far below. Finally she asked, “So why did you choose me?” “Again, we’ve been watching you for a long time. We choose those who would counter-balance the evil the Brotherhood has sown for so long. Your sense of justice and righteousness will be a beacon for those in search of hope in dark times. Nor will you be alone. Many others will rise and join you in defense of your home; some with our assistance, others will not need our technology to evolve.” “Assuming that’s the case, how do I use my powers?” “How do you breathe, Carol Danvers?” and Oracle gave her a mighty shove, sending her tumbling into space. Carol came to the horrible realization that it hadn’t been an image at all. It was a force-field and she was in a free-fall. To be continued...
  13. Starting this thread anew so that it can be organized better. The first several posts will be the directory for episodes with their respective banners. After that, news, commission postings, and other fun stuff! The Carpathia series was formerly on Simtropolis and now has its own website! The story follows the adventures of six friends and their struggles to survive in a mysterious world. It's a gay sci-fi/fantasy adventure! The short stories will orient you to the main characters and their world. The main story kicks off the main plot. Enjoy! Main Page: http://www.newcarpathia.com The following posts will contain links to the latest episodes.
  14. Dove Islands

    Version 2.0.0


    This map began with a modelled picture of a dove, and was processed into an 8-bit 256 indexed grayscale. It was discovered that although a grayscale height-map could be 8-bit and 256 shades of gray, it must also be 'indexed' specifically as a grayscale image otherwise SC4 will simply render a flat region. Thanks to @CorinaMarie for investigating the format and rendering the image into the initial dove-shaped island landscape. From there, I developed the 'Dove Islands' region theme with a city layout (config.bmp). Included in the zip-file is the preview image, install instructions (readme.txt), the Dove Islands region height-map, config.bmp, and region.ini file. Also included is a file for the cloud background in the preview. The 'region_bg_1-clouds.dat' may be placed in the Plugins folder where the game is installed. For more about creating grayscale heightmaps see: C.O.R.I.M.A.P.S. - A Tutorial for SimCity 4 Install: 1. Place 'Dove Islands' folder in user account Documents/SimCity 4/ Regions folder. 2. Load SC4 and select 'Dove Islands' region 3. In region view press CTRL+SHIFT+ALT+R and navigate to Grayscale Heightmap subfolder. 4. Select Dove_lslands_513x449.bmp 5. Wait for SC4 to render the map and create the city files.
  15. Duckburg

    Version 1.0.0


    Ladies and gentleman i present you DUCKBURG. WIKIPEDIA: This region is a 7x6 large city tiles map. ------- next on the to do list: the original map of gotham city as it first apeared in the comics.
  16. Waterdeep

    Version 1.0.0


    This is a medium size map: 54 large city tiles (9x6). It's based on the D&D fantasy city of Waterdeep. Enjoy!
  17. Episode 2: Terraforming

    (foto: deusuum @ deviantart.net) Some progress. And a region view:
  18. Version 1.0.0


    As says in the Title, it's 64x64, or 4288 Real life Square Kilometers, to give an idea of how big that is, the size of Timbuktu and when you automatically create a new Region is 16x16, or 268 Square Kilometers. How to use/download the Region: 1. Download the config.bmp and Floris.jpg files. 2. After you've downloaded the config.bmp and Floris.jpg files, you wan't to start a new automatic region. 3. Then you wan't to hold down [shift] + [alt] + [ctrl] + r, and double-click on the Floris.jpg file, and Wallah! WARNING: May take up to 8 Minutes to download the Region (ingame) Also, be sure you create a new folder in your "SimCity 4 Regions" Folder, with both the jpg and bmp files in it, so that way it doesn't flood your "Downloads" Folder, and that's about it, enjoy! (Floris Valley town, not included)
  19. config.bmp

    Version 1.0.2


    config.bmp, required.
  20. Serenity Valley - Boreal

    Version 1.0.0


    This is my first hand-made map. Serenity Valley has two small winding rivers that converge on higher ground, then meet up with a larger, lower river. There are three possible locations for a hydro dam. A dam with 1600 MW at the big waterfall is possible. Panoramic views of mountains and hills, with a small amount of playable space in the foothills. Otherwise, the map is flat at two different heights. The lowlands are fertile, the highlands have some oil and ore. There are also two canals, intended to look man-made, and perfect for use with waterfront walkways. (See example image above.) Waterfront Walkway by Tair http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=422857990 Walkway by VIP http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=426140797 Hats off to MrMiyagi for his wonderful map-making guide. I really needed help with my mountains, and I discovered his tip on using Wilbur. http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=482232215 Unfortunately for this map, I was too far into the project to use it, but I will definitely use it in the future. So the mountains are entirely hand drawn here, and I hope you find them suitable. I hope you enjoy this map as much as I do. I imagined it for days and started it twice before it started to take shape. Steam workshop link: http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=503001583
  21. LOTR

    Does this make anyone else think of Lord of the Rings?
  22. Entrantoria



    My map. The map contains small paradise islands. Install: 1. Download. 2. Unzip the contents to a folder: AppData\Local\Colossal Order\Cities_Skylines\Maps (windows 7) 3. Play Game!
  23. 1. 13 mars 2095

    Northern France, not far from Lille The life of a typical young Frenchwoman is pleasant, not much different than it was before the Green Revolution of the 2030s that saw a reemerging Cuba dominate the green technology sectors, spreading urban agriculture, recycling, interchangeable parts, healthy living, and conservation across the world. In time, Cuba had annexed the Bahamas and much of Florida in exchange for its patented, easily-replicated desalination technology that turned the sea into a limitless source of drinking water and that had made the post-Communist Cuban regime a favorite of the Middle Eastern leaders. None of that really affected our Frenchwoman, who we'll call Annick. She has taken advantage of Cuban-led reinvestment in urban cores that has turned many of la France's great cities into cheap, vibrant, and self-sustaining areas similar to those of Havana, but in many ways that was a European tradition long before the postindustrial globalization of the early 2000s. There are a few visible differences, though. Urban agriculture and forestry, practiced throughout Cuba during the lean years of the 1990s and 2000s, have come to fill every nook and cranny of European cities such as Lille. Even many of the newest skyscrapers bear trees on them, and the integration of vertical and balcony farming has become a global trend. Farm? Greenhouse? Offices? Who knows? Saarland, Germany. The most visibly "Cuban" thing are the cars. Many cars are reminiscent in style of both 1950s US cars and the Cuban "Frankenstein" cars of indeterminate vintage, and for good reason; 90% of new cars are renewably powered and designed to be made of replicable parts, with most made by Cuban auto titans based on what they know best. Varadero and Marianao are the new Renault and Peugeot for Annick and her family. Timeless and classic...wait, what are those white things? A doctors' strike! Some things never change... Notes on Cuban sustainability: http://pages.vassar.edu/sustainability/video/history-of-sustainability-in-cuba/ http://www.treehugger.com/environmental-policy/why-cuba-sustainability-not-accident.html http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/19/sustainable-farming-in-cuba_n_3112088.html
  24. Hong Kong



    Hi everyone, here is a map of my invention based on the Honk Kong area. It is 22 x 22 km based. I play with it and i like it very much the area. Hope you like it.
  25. Safron



    Hi everyone, here is a map of my invention. I call it Safron just as a map that I used to play with. Hope you like it. It is quite big.

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