[b]NPC Wrestlers: [/b] [hider=When the wrestleocracy is compromised by bureaucracy and out-of-the-ring regulation, the Lord of the Arena will be very displeased.] [b]Name:[/b] Managantamos, Lord of the Arena [b]Age:[/b] 5,000 Staryears [b]Sex:[/b] Zygomycete. Has a deep voice and therefore uses male pronouns. [b]Weight Class: [/b]Featherweight to Super Heavyweight [b]Appearance:[/b] He varies wildly in size depending on what stage of growth that particular instance of Managantamos is in. In the ring, he tends to be much larger, but when times are desperate and he’s running out of cuttings, he may resort to using smaller clones. He has been known to hold heights from 4 feet to 15 feet, usually middling at around 6 foot 4. He is almost always a heavily “muscled” creature made from dense, tough fibrous tissues and hard minerals resembling a plated skeleton. His head, if one could call it that, is heavily sinewed and almost absorbed by his neck, which curves into a flat, noseless face and a flappy mouth that, despite its impractical appearance, easily projects an articulate and booming voice. Some might say he looks like a bluish-greenish Brock Lesnar was spliced into a sock puppet version of the Dark Souls Mushrooms. Those who say it out loud don’t usually live. [b]Martial Background/Pregame history:[/b] In a world where hyperintelligent fungi battle endlessly for supremacy and survival, one in particular shone out in history as the most particularly dangerous. Where most bodies would grapple with subterranean mycelium and use their chemicals to control and devour the plants and animals around them, one in particular bested them all with a new technique. Bodies, primarily, were mushrooms rooted to the ground, and entered combat only to defend themselves from predators while breeding. This nameless fungi had a much different approach. Instead, he purposefully uprooted his scions, trained them incessantly and externally digested animal, mineral, and vegetable alike until he had amassed a large mobile force able to seed the space left behind by dead foes with his own spores. Soon, half of the sentient fungus on the planet was, in truth, a martial hivemind that they called Managantamos: The Grand High Martial Manager. Developing multiple four-limbed and five-limbed combat methods based on his own experience and the martial arts of various alien colonists on his planet, he became a true force to be reckoned with. Every mycelium network and living creature bowed themselves before Managantamos. Soon, he built ships, and sent his scions off to other planets to provide him with more information, more bloody entertainment, and more territory. His processing power grew to unimaginable proportions as entire planets became netted in his nueral mycelium, and Managatamos obtained power beyond power. The ability to make life forms anomalously durable, and construct combat arenas with his very mind… Thankfully, most versions of Managantamos try to be responsible with their wrestling entertainment companies, leaving only smaller, less populated solar systems to be “Fuck it, I’m bored” places with… [i]Lax[/i] restrictions. Sadly, Earth seems to be the only 7.5 billion a sea of dead planets. While earth itself is technically as highly populated with intelligent life as most of the planets in the various systems Managantamos visits, the population to available solar system is incredibly low, making Earth, technically, a No-Disqualification Zone for Managantamos Wrestling... [b]Signature Move:[/b] Ottoman Slam: He jumps forward and slams his heavy palm into the side of his opponent’s head, then continues pushing as he falls down and slams them into the mat. If he is exceptionally large at the time, he may simply slap his opponent first, before pulling the person down as he drops on his knees to slam them. If he is exceptionally small, he may use the ropes as a springing off point to get on the same level as his opponent’s head. [b]Finisher:[/b] The Overlord: When he’s larger than his opponent is, he’ll grab both of their legs and pull them up so they fall onto their shoulders, step onto the opponent’s arms, and then just pull until the opponent taps or something breaks… Or, since the shoulders are technically on the ground, until the Ref counts him out. If he’s drastically bigger, he’ll carry the shins horizontally under his arms and lock them, to strengthen the grip. The Underlord: When he’s smaller than his opponent, he’ll charge them to the ground and pull them up in a similar fashion, but by holding the torso or mid thighs and stepping on their neck. He’ll then pull until pin, injury, or submission. If he’s drastically smaller, he’ll curl his foe’s body by pulling the legs over his head and shoulders, and pull down, using them as leverage to increase pressure on the neck. [b]Favorite Weapon:[/b] He enjoys literally beating his foes with his own prestige. Be it his scepter, a suitcase full of money, his own championship belts, or artifacts and logos of older wrestling entertainment companies that buckled and bankrupted under the competition of his own Arena. [b]Heel/Face:[/b] He’s usually a moderate face. Moderate. He has his fair share of genuine fans, but generally takes a backseat to many of the bigger personalities. His portrayal is often very gray and morally ambiguous, similar to how ruling dynasties are treated in Wuxia entertainment. [b]Theme/Entrance Music:[/b] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OA1LXTjqbo8] I’LL HIT YOU LIKE A TON OF BRICKS![/url] [/hider] [hider=When solutions are unorthodox and/or lacking common sense and decency, the people turn to their hero… WIP] [b]Name:[/b] Maximillian Punchley [b]Age:[/b] 43 [b]Sex:[/b] Male [b]Weight Class: [/b] Heavyweight [b]Appearance:[/b] [b]Martial Background:[/b] (How, where, and in what were they trained?) [b]Signature Move:[/b] (Like a Finisher, but not quite so powerful. Can be used often for quick ass-whupping.) [b]Finisher:[/b] (Ultimate supermove.) [b]Favorite Weapon: [/b] [b]Heel/Face:[/b] (Are we supposed to like them for their noble qualities, or their amusingly dickish ones?) [b]Pre-Game history:[/b] (How did they meet Managantamos? When did they sign onto the Filibuster Federation?) [b]Theme/Entrance Music:[/b] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPp3Qh-GRqs]This choice of music probably pisses off a lot of dead people…[/url] [/hider] [hider=When traditional law and justice lacks opposition… There is one man willing to stand in the way!] [b]Name:[/b] Dennis "The Unnamable Garbler of Gods and Flesh" Quaid [b]Age:[/b] 122, biologically. Predating humanity, spiritually [b]Sex:[/b] Male. May be ‘doubly equipped’ if the aspects of [i]The Garbled One[/i] translate to flesh avatars. [b]Appearance:[/b] Standing at a full 7 feet, (Including the horns) not an inch higher or lower, Dennis is a beast rippling with muscles and bright red scars. His face is presumably always contorted into an expression of hate and malice, but that's rather difficult to tell, because his head is a desert bighorner skull. This makes it a perpetual goofy grin of hate and malice, which naturally makes it twice as dangerous. His glistening and terrible form is marked with a multitude of scars that glow red with the sulphurous blood pulsing and writhing beneath them, and also suggest that he'd been mauled by countless large animals during his time in The Pit, and very few armed humans. This is of no real surprise to anyone that's shared his presence, because after washing off the overtones of gore and brimstone, he really does smell like a sheep... He dons a kilt of various human and animal skins, as well as your standard boots, rubber elbow and knee pads, and fingerless gloves. It's sort of clashing with the whole "Demonic" image to wear modern sports accessories alongside that... Thing, but go tell the guy with no skin on his face and tanned faces on his kilt to change his look. [b]Martial Background: [/b]It's generally believed that Dennis Quaid fought in both world wars before going mad, possibly from lead poisoning. It's generally believed that whatever has distorted the body of Dennis Quaid after his brief stint in Hell fought in all four crusades before an exorcist banished him to the depths. Whatever style Dennis uses today varies. It shows the common signs of animalistic and informal training, but every once in awhile, the wrestling and boxing common among sporty World War Two soldiers shows itself, as do some of the historical techniques of knights, depending on whatever foreign object he's got ahold of. [b]Signature Move:[/b] A Gory Special (Sometimes literally, mostly just named after the man.) submission hold, usually initiated by ducking down and ramming the target hard enough to flip them over onto his back. Foes that feel like they're about to kick out instead of hold on cooperatively may instead be thrown by the arms, or whatever limbs are on top. [b]Finisher:[/b] With his free hand, he'll grab someone with whatever available hand and hoist them as high as a christmas goose, throttling their neck. And then toss them up and twist them around to smash them over his knee. A chokeslam backbreaker, in essence. [b]Favorite Weapon:[/b] Anything wrapped in razorwire. He loves razorwire. In fact, legend has it that his gimmick during his human wrestling days was razorwire. He'd wrap himself in it, wrap weapons in it, garrote people with it, ball it up and eat it. Really, there was nothing he [i]wouldn't[/i] do with it. Cultington was the only place willing to offer him an insurance policy. [b]Heel/Face:[/b] Heel [b]Pre-Game history:[/b] Dennis Quaid was born in Switzerland in the summer of 1896. He grew up hairy and belligerent, like most members of the Quaid family, which was why it was particularly dissappointing when The Big War happened and Switzerland didn't get involved. The weeks that followed were unbearable to Dennis. He read the news, and watched over the mountains forlornly. It felt like everyone in the world got to go to war except him. And they resented it too, the ungrateful bastards! He emigrated to Belgium in the August of 1914 and enlisted under a false name: Dade Quennis. "Dade Quennis" was later apprehended for illegal immigration practices and fraud and sentenced to prison for much of the 20s, but that didn't stop him from escaping and joining the French Foreign legion when he heard that [i]War[/i] was starting again. They were too busy screening some of the German recruits to bother with this French-Speaker, and so in France he stayed for most of World War II. Until he started failing cognitive tests and psych evaluations. He had lead balls in places that couldn't easily be removed, and it sure was taking its toll on his brain. Pursued by visions, he somehow made it onto the "Underground Entertainment" scene and was regularly crossing seas and oceans to beat people half to death with hard and/or pointy things. His reputation for having seriously harmed and/or murdered people under the legal sanction of carefully worded international waivers earned him the attention of the Esoteric Order of Echog Disemboweler, a backwoods society of "Alternative Pagans" who worshipped what authorities call "VAHTs". (Vaguely Abrahmic Hell Things.) By the power of a blood ritual cleverly disguised as a literal pro wrestling deathmatch, the ring fell open and became a pit into The Lake of Lost Eyeballs, where he drowned for several years before meeting, and subsequently having his mind and body devoured by, a highly esteemed member of the cult's pantheon. After battling his way out of hell at the prayers of the cultists and developing a legendary on and offscreen rivalry with fellow wrestler Maximillian Punchley, he was practically destined for a career in the ring. With virtually no properly televised grudge matches between Max and Dennis by the available wrestling franchises, Managantamos elected to capitalise on the drama by signing them both in as official Filibuster Federation Superstars. They’ve killed each other [i]twice[/i] since then... [b]Theme/Entrance Music:[/b] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gM1GlPOvQ6U]Bloody Metal Elephant Revenge Anthem - Slash and Myles Kennedy[/url] [/hider]