Doc Doctor

Black Mountain Tournament: Sigurd vs Gigue

Watches Vordak ride off into the sunset, a single tear rolling down my cheek.

"Amurica...."

Rogues Inc. (Accepting)

@Queentze

Here's a CS for ya.

My Hider

Appearance: A slight man with no eyebrows, a baby-face, emerald eyes, and greasy ginger hair, Donny is without a doubt an unassuming individual. He almost always wears black pants and dress shoes with suspenders and black gloves, though commonly hides his equipment and features beneath a trenchcoat and hat. He always wears a tie, though the color and design of it frequently changes. He speaks with a nasally Downeast accent, one that most people find pervy sounding.

Name: Donovan Oswald
Alias: "First-Degree" Donny
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Species: Human

Personality: Donny is what would be called an ubermensch. He follows his own code and does as he wants, believing only in his own will and the in the cold steel of his .44 Magnum. He follows orders because he likes having something to do, and what he likes to do is murder.
He is unbelievably crafty, and as mean as an Arizona rattler. He frequently feigns emotion and warmth to stay on just the right side of socially passable by modern standards, but he has no qualms about being a public nuisance. He is quite skilled at being annoying, and uses it as a tool to pick fights. He enjoys smoking, but only does so before and after a kill.



History: Donny had a typical psychopathic childhood. He was born in Bangor, Maine, his father a U.S Marine, his mother a sickly stay at home wife, and his uncle a bastard rapist. He was often unsupervised, and frequently engaged in less than moral activities. He bullied other children, killed animals, and stole from the local supermarket on a regular basis. As soon as he got his driver's license, he stole his parent's van hit the road, moving to Las Vegas and with nary a penny in his pockets after using up the rest for gas.
There he found quick work as a mafia bookie, his audacity and ruthlessness impressing the bosses. He began as a goon and never switched professions. He was good at it. Whenever he wasn't booking, he was killing. Any hit that was requested of him, he accepted and completed. By the time he was in his mid-twenties, he was locally known as "First-Degree" Donny, a universal killer and as far as the Las Vegas Police were concerned, a veritable one-man army.

There was another reason for his infamy, however. He had a hobby. In his spare time Donny wandered the streets after dark, a claw hammer hidden inside his overcoat. He killed lone women beneath city overpasses and in motel alleyways. Being a part-time serial killer in addition to a mafia bookie naturally solidified his reputation as a high profile criminal, and he is currently on the FBI's Most Wanted list with a reward of two-million dollars on his head. He has since moved to Lochwell City, looking for business.



WGUF-What Got You Famous: His kill count.

Equipment-

-Raging Bull .44 Magnum revolver with a Mernickle quick draw holster and seven moon clips (48 shots total) on his belt on the right side.

-Tommy Gun with two spare 100-round drums (300 shots total) slung over his back.

-Five pull-pin grenades with optional tripwires on his belt.

-Six inch switchblade in his pocket. It has a ring clip at the hilt base.

-Claw hammer holstered at his belt.

-Customized retractable high-density golf club made just for braining folks holstered at his belt. It has a ring clip at the hilt base.

-Fifteen foot razor sharp microfilament garrote wire reel concealed within a wristwatch that can be withdrawn via clip ring.

-Spring loaded five-inch knives within the heels and toes of his shoes that will jut out when a switch on the instep is triggered.

-Pair of quarter-pound S.A.P black combat gloves weighted with lead. They are fashioned from a high density polymer that can resist being cut by the garrote wire.

-A heavy duty bullet proof vest that can stop even the largest of slugs.

-Can of FOX military grade pepper spray holstered at his belt.

-Portable six inch shaving mirror on his belt.

-Satchel holding four adhesive bombs, which can be remotely detonated via digital watch or set with a timer. Each bomb contains enough TNT to scrap a minivan.










Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Donny looks like a geeky dad, the kind of embarrassing adult that could be found doing jumping jacks in neon short shorts down at the local YMCA. This is a strength. Hardly anyone ever suspects just how obscenely dangerous he really is. His physicality is comparable to that of a highly trained marine, as he consistently trains to stay in peak condition. He has over seventeen years of experience in urban combat as an elite mafia goon, with at least 172 confirmed kills. Though he is a capable hand-to-hand fighter, he by far prefers mid-range firefights. He is a true "dead eye" with his selected firearms, and can hit a fly at ninety-one meters with his .44 Magnum, the weapon he favors above all others. Such is his skill with the gun that he can fire off all six shots in less than a second by fanning the hammer, whilst still maintaining near-perfect accuracy. For reference as to the Magnum's power, the slugs can rip through armor like rice paper and put a four inch hole through a steel cooking pan at three hundred feet.

Weakness: Donny has finite ammunition. If he is stripped of his belt or runs out of bullets, he becomes just another street savvy bruiser that can be taken down by a gun or a better prepared melee specialist.

Secret Hideout: A thirteenth-story penthouse suite. Hiding in plain sight at its most comfortable.


Relationships: Donny has no romantic or friendly interests. His only associates are those that hire him to do dirty deeds.


Theme Music:

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Starfall

The monster had wanted to strangle Satori, but we don't all get what we want. It had apparently given up strategy, but looks can be deceiving. Its anger was harsh, but revenge would taste mellow. It had sacrificed a few pawns to take the queen. Not that Satori knew. She thought that she had finally made it flip the board.

The game was still on.

As long as Satori had blood, she would be in trouble. If that blood flowed, she'd be screwed outright.
Several things would become clear at once as they occurred, but the old monster's ploy was already in its final stages. Its eyes had ceased their glow. They now gleamed only with a dull malice, wet black marbles in which a burning forest was smugly reflected.

First, the fundamentals. Satori probably needed her brain. The pressure of the blood in her neck all being forced upwards would make her skull feel like an overweight balloon. She might not have needed oxygen in her blood, but how many arteries in her brain could pop before she forgot how to do math?

But that was small potatoes. Strangulation was only a hopeful proxy. What the Magna Pater had \really\ wanted was to hold her in place for just a moment. It got its wish.

The first thing that Satori would really notice would be how heavy her hammer had become. It would feel as though the whole monster were stuck to...

*The hammer smashing down on the monster's arm. That impossibly sticky slime coating the head. The side of the hammer making inevitable contact with the monster's gooey shoulder as it met the end of its momentum. Anything that met the monster, no matter how harshly, would become stuck to it.*

Whilst Satori was restrained, she'd be able to realise that the Magna Pater was literally at her feet and she couldn't get away, not until the tail had been severed, which by then would be too late. She might even turn her wings into meat cleavers to hack the tail off more quickly, but the Magna Pater had the advantage of initiative and timing in this situation. It had planned it.

Its right claw would easily be able to catch and close around her left calf at this range, leaving her entirely unable to stop the horror's bright red tongue from shooting out like a slimy Jack In The Box to penetrate the inside of left thigh, stabbing into the femoral artery. It was going to be a hell of a lot harder to see that tongue coming than the slime throw from earlier. Drained like a juice box? That was what had happened to Nergal when he fought the monster.

But, Satori probably wouldn't be trapped for long. The tail could be diced, the hammer eventually wrenched free, the potential grip on her leg smashed. The question was, how important were Satori's bodily fluids to her?

Pistol Grip Pump (Gweyr Vs. Donny)

@Rain

Possibly honestly. This is what you mean, right?


I'm no expert, and this is actually my very first legit roleplay fight using a gun. I've done crossbows and shit like that, but never firearms.
Regardless, I'd be lying if I said that I thought the hot pressure blast could scorch through even a common bulletproof vest (Donny wears the serious stuff though, being the walking hidden armory that he is).

Buuuut...

If you are right and that blast can go through thin Kevlar...
You have my gratitude for inspiring me. The chamber blast seems like a cool way to disfigure someone's face, right down Donny's alley.

Pistol Grip Pump (Gweyr Vs. Donny)

@Rain

I suppose then that it would hurt Donny through his bulletproof jacket?

#TheMoreYouRead

Pistol Grip Pump (Gweyr Vs. Donny)

@Rain

The kick? A tough guy wouldn't even register a little buck in the ribs.

Pistol Grip Pump (Gweyr Vs. Donny)

@Athinar

The spells would rocket through the fog. A moment later Donny could be heard yelping loudly. Then...

Tattattattatta-!

One of Gweyr's magic missiles had struck Donny in the knee, completely shattering it and grounding him. But before the fog had cleared, he'd have shoved himself to the side so that his yelp wouldn't get him hit, unslung his tommy gun, and unleashed a hail of bullets at Gweyr. Unlike her magic missiles, these weren't random. He'd have triangulated her position by watching where the magic missiles had come from. There were a hell of a lot more than just six bullets this time. There were dozens, and the mage's armor had probably been used up by the last grenade.

Pistol Grip Pump (Gweyr Vs. Donny)

@Athinar

I think you've misread Donny's action. He's shooting the grenade before the fog spell and just before Gweyr lands on it. It wouldn't be flying or hidden.

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Starfall

At this point the monster had two choices. Even though the mucous didn't stick, Satori's wing stickiness would be pretty much the same thing, either way allowing the Magna Pater to jerk her aim off course.

Perhaps Satori was even anticipating that. At any rate, she certainly expected her wing to be able to flypaper the monster's tail.

Her expectations would fail. There was a reason why the Magna Pater never got stuck in its own slime. It could excrete thick films of soapy mucous to force away and glide over its glue-like secretions.

Whether Satori's wing functioned in the same way, or even bonded at the molecular level, it would do her no good here. She would succeed in smashing the monster's arm to bits, but by the time she realised that the tail was both too strong to be caught in place and too slick to be stuck, it would be under the wings and entwined about her throat tightly enough to make her neck feel like a banana with a steel cord around it. The elder horror's tail was like liquid lightning. No doubt the creature had many more secrets, but that tail was its absolute strongest and fastest weapon, as well as its primary mode of locomotion.

The Magna Pater was hit so hard the ground split and caved beneath it, dirt spilling into its silently howling maw, momentum cut off entirely in front of Satori. It was more than pissed off now. The woman's wing claws and spikes might try to snag the python-like tail as it throttled her, but the strength, oh the strength. She'd have an easier time hauling in the Lock Ness Monster with a Bass Pro fishing reel.

The monster was mad, alright. More than mad. It was livid. Tactics had apparently been thrown right out the window. It wanted to strangle her until her eyes popped from their sockets and her face turned black. Satori would have but a moment or two to escape before passing out from the lack of fresh blood in her brain. That, or until the sheer pressure gave her a massive aneurysm.

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Starfall@Mikellh Dejax

Satori was playing speed chess with a being that had been around since before chess had been invented.

It hadn't devoted itself to a new action at all with its trick. That was what it had been planning from the beginning, with no lost momentum or pause that Satori could take advantage of. When the monster moved, it did so smoothly and with no hesitation or inaccuracy.

It had known the girl would defend her face. It had thrown slime at countless faces, and always they somehow saw it coming. It was an odd thing for surprise attacks to not be surprising, but then again this wasn't a petty street fight where dirty tricks were a dime a dozen. It was well used to that, and had already formulated a backup plan.

Satori was fast, but so was the monster, to the degree that she wouldn't be able to speedblitz it or make up for a miss of that hammer in time to guard against a counter attack. There was no room for error. It was a melee fighter too, and far from helpless against her. Just aiming big swings at it was futile.

As Satori's wings crossed before her, the slime would stick instead of bouncing off, sealing them in place. It was sticky to such an extent that even the Magna Pater itself couldn't break the bond if it wanted to. It had distinctly been hoping that she would have slowly suffocated with her face sealed shut, but alas it would need to settle for second potatoes. Then as Satori redirected her heavy swing, she'd possibly find herself suddenly jerked to her left as if she were a child being hauled by an industrial crane. The horror's tail would have whipped out to seize her stuck wings at the crux and wrench her off her feet at the last moment, as if she weighed nothing. She was strong, but strength did not equal weight. To the Magna Pater, she weighed as much as a fresh duckling.

Speed was Satori's game, but not where the beast's tail was concerned. Its tail made the rest of it look as slow as a turtle. If all went accordingly, then as the monster then swept past the woman's left side, before she could bring her hammer up from the great miss, the beast's left arm (which would already be set to attack) would piston out to claw her left thigh in passing with the full force of its forward motion, an attack of such ferocity that with her feet barely touching the ground, her body would be sent into a blurring forwards pinwheel, femoral artery shredded into bacon and glute sliced all the way to the bone.
As this occurred, the Magna Pater's greasy muzzle would crinkle back into a sardonic rictus of dynamic effort and black elation. It was no lover of fights, no true warrior. It cared nothing for the thrill of the hunt. The only thing buzzing within its wicked mind was how greatly it would enjoy breaking down the female's body and soul later. It wanted to keep her alive for days in a delirium of fear and anguish, torturing her in ways that not even the cruel kings of old could imagine, deep down within the pitch black recesses of the earth. Best of all, everyone would watch. How could they not? The outrage, the disgust. If the Magna Pater had human vocal cords, it might have groaned with anticipation.

This exchange would have slowed the monster down, but not by much. It had only been sixteen feet away when Eubeal had started talking, and he'd still not likely have reached the last word of his sentence before his frontal lobe got shish-kebabed. As for sensing the Magna Pater, that would be easier said than done. Its body temperature matched the environment and the mucous coating its body was entirely scentless. Not that it would matter in the long run, since Satori was the only thing that could keep Eubeal alive long enough to realise the danger, and she herself may just have very well been mortally wounded.

But...

There was a limit to how many moves the monster could use in the alotted time frame of its attempt at charging past Satori. It couldn't spend all day doing crazy Jack Sparrow shit in slow motion. It could whip out no more split second counters after this. There simply was not time for it to deal with any more complications if it wanted to reach Eubeal in time. This last combo had already been cutting it close. If Satori had one more contingency, she'd be able to save her friend from instant death, at least, and perhaps even succeed in pissing off the monster in the process. If it were to get angry, it might even make a tactical error in its haste for revenge.