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5 hrs ago
Current Bugs accompany trash. Trash keeps the company of bugs. You can tell that someone is rotten when pests are their assets.
3 likes

Bio



Call me Doc. I'm open to just about every form of roleplay at any time, so if you want to have some fun just toss a P.M my way.



Arena Characters: http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/87852-docs-characters-no-posting/ooc#post-3105991

Arena Stats

5 Wins / 0 Losses / 1 Draws
1550 points

Most Recent Posts

@Indie Deme

-Aries was quite an athlete, probably moreso than Donny. Donny was ex-special forces, true, but he was also in his late thirties and didn't work out with the same passion as he used to. But with age comes other gifts. Experience and cunning. Donny in particular was well versed in the arts of ruthless efficiency. Thus, as Aries limped a pace forwards, right before his foot touched the ground and as he bore his weight forwards, center of gravity shifting past the point of no return... Donny's lead left foot lashed out to give Aries's instep a swift kick. Should it land, it would throw off Aries's equilibrium, interrupt his attack, and likely cause him to either fall to a knee or onto his face depending on how much momentum he had. What occured next would depend upon how quick he'd be to find a way out of the situation. The entire time Donny showed no emotion, no flare of passion or effort. He was almost mechanical, an outside observer of his own fight.-
@Tojiko
It's understandable. A minimum of 250 words is a good way to sort out the quality writers worth your time, and serves to avoid undescriptive crap that necessitates asking the other dude questions that should have been answered in their post. It's the mark of someone with commitment to consistency!

And gracious no, I mean draw as in attract, draw in some business, get people interested. But it probably wouldn't work anyways. Like I said, it's a virtual graveyard here, and only mourners like myself remain, just for shits.
Whelp, here's hoping you find what you're after. Personally, I don't like having to write more or less than I feel like writing. When a post looks complete to me, it's complete to me. Sometimes on the odd occasion I'll even add pictures or references like a pleb.
I did learn that you know Indie, I'm currently fighting him right now. Maybe you two dudes could try to collaborate and whip up a good draw!
Tbh the Arena's been mostly dead as of late. Four hours is nothing, it can take days. Just another reason why some folks, including me, have been mucking about elsewhere. Now and then you get a hit, but eeehhhh... I wouldn't count on it. If I were you I'd flat out ask some of the mentioned people if they want to fight. I'd recommend Pollen first and foremost, though I haven't seen her in a while.
@Hokum

-After searching the dead guards for anything of interest, Donny patiently ejected the spent casings from his revolver and reloaded both guns as Pycin spoke to him. After the Grand Minister finished speaking Donny teleported back down the hall, stopped by the door the guards had come through, and fired his new quantum rifle at it to see if it'd make a hole. He'd do so at an oblique angle just in case, for some science reason, the energy bounced off. He doubted it would, that'd a huge deterrent for the guards to use their own weapons, but if Donny had learned anything over the course of his career it was that there is always a good reason to expect the worst.-

"Whah certainly, mistah Pycin. Ah've got some free tahm on mah hands."

-Regardless of the result, he'd also check out the other functions of the device. Could it access some form of Quatis internet, did it have confidential information files, a blueprint of the ship maybe? He wanted to learn as much as he could. Hell, if it did have internet he'd immediately Wiki GM Pycin.-
@Indie Deme

-Donny didn't try to counter. Instead he only defended, methodically swaying back just out of range of the first jab and pawing the second off course to the right of his head with with his left hand, and when the kick came, he'd neatly hop back a pace onto his rear right leg, hiking his left knee up so that Aries would instead painfully bang the metatarsals in his foot against Donny's raised heel as it hooked up. The killer was patient, still tranquil, studying Aries with dull eyes.-

"Name's Charlie."
@Indie Deme

-He emerged from the shadows of the corridor like a deep sea creature, entering the arena at a deliberately slow gait. The man was of a slightly smaller stature than Aries, and none too pretty to boot. His body was devoid of hair aside from what was on his head. He had ginger hair slicked roughly back and a curt mustache adorning his lip, nothing more. Furthermore, he had a dad bod. No chisled abs, his limbs adequately beefy but none too telling about his level of physical fitness. It could be assumed that he was strong under that layer of unflattering baby fat, a stern, practical strength achieved from a long stint in the military aided by habitual upkeep. The red striped dolphin shorts didn't help matters. What he did have in aces, were tattoos. On his left bicep, a fanged skull topped with a green beret overlaying crossed arrows, a dagger thrust up through the jaw. A trio of lightning bolts cut through the hilt of the dagger, and looming out of an eye socket was a black viper, venom dripping from exposed fangs. Below the skull, there was a crossed out motto with a newer one tattooed right below it.-

DE OPPRESSO LIBER
WAR ENDURES

-Taking up the expanse of his stomach and torso was an angel of death, robed in gray tatters with a gaunt skull peering out from a ratty hood. Vast black feathered wings arched above it, the tips meeting at the base of Donny's neck.
The last notable tattoo covered the entirety of his back. It portrayed a crimson sunset over a sprawling prairie landscape. The sun was a bleeding skull, the blood from its sockets, septum, and gaping maw oozing over shadowy mountains and setting the grass aflame. In the midst of it all, a pitch black rider sat upon an equally black horse, blue prairie fire writhing about its hooves and snout. The rider's face was a pale smudge with glistening shark's eyes and a wide-brimmed hat. A bundle of scalps were tied at his belt, the dark, dried skin rusted with caramelized blood. Draped across Donny's shoulder blades over the scene was another motto, this one in English, not Latin.-

THE NIGHT DOES NOT END

-He too paced a lazy five yards into the arena before assuming his stance. Feet spaced to the width of his shoulders, left foot leading, back straight and knees slightly bent. His left side was favored towards Aries, and when he raised his fists, he kept them up past the level of his jawline, elbows close to his body. He radiated a black tranquility, an ominous kind of calm similar to the cool lethality of a loaded gun found in father's closet. A standing tragedy built upon the dead dreams of the forgotten.-
*Donny is entirely unarmed and wearing only dolphin shorts.

Rules;
*Post within 72 hours or forfeit. No exceptions, no warnings.

*After each player has posted fifteen times, for a total of thirty posts, a judge will be called in to decide a winner.

*Limit four attacks per post.

*All physical and mental feats called into question must be able to be referenced, and must be within the limitations of what current and past MMA fighters have showcased.

*Human tier only, no protective equipment or weapons.

Setting;


A solid sandstone arena. There is nothing to pick up to use as a weapon or tool. The arena has a diameter of fifteen yards.

Theme;
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