Doc Doctor

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Drifting Pollen

Elly is free and stuff. She can now keep looking at those Tiger Beat magazines.

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Negatomsk

Okay, I will prove it. Pay attention now, I know it's hard.

Let's start with the first real altercation between the two.
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Take note of what I've underlined and circled. That part is important. Now here is Star's response.
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So how about that? She totally misinterpreted it and somehow managed to toss in a cheesy attempt at playing my character for me. At no point did the Magna Pater even come remotely close to clotheslining her, least of all with its left wing. What I did was offer up a potential move that the monster seemed likely to do as it neared, which it actually did do in the next post.
Now let's keep going, okay? Still paying attention?
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So this is when it gets into melee range, before Satori had swung out at it. Star had been anticipating everything in advance and stating so in her actions, but I just wasn't letting my character be railroaded along by what she wanted to do. After all, free will is a thing, right? So, here is her response.
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And surprise, surprise, her response involves her having not understood or misinterpreted my post /again/. Instead of making a coherent response, she hints that I backtracked (when in the previous post I literally proved that I didn't) and decided to change the momentum of her hammer mid-swing after stating that she had already swung, when my character's action was before that. She even tosses in a logical fallacy by stating she both knew what the monster was going to do and didn't know at the same time, somehow turning this to her advantage and using it to know about the secret attack. I don't know either, so don't ask.
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Some more logical fallacies, some hypocrisy, you know, the usual. Pater is such a meany. He's so fast and slow at the same time, and ought to use more cunning and less overwhelming speed. Now excuse me while I do absolutely nothing but swing my massively hypersonic hammer as hot as the sun and let shadows autoblock everything.
Anyways, a little later the fight goes to the ground.
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Typical gross monster shit, I came up with the Band-Aid Attack on the spot. Thanks to Star for inspiring me there.
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So some more hypocritical stuff about simplicity, more misinterpreting and rewriting my actions to suit her better, and of course blatantly ignoring a power that is even specifically listed on the Magna Pater's character profile, shown below.
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So I rest my case now, and humbly retire from this particular thread. May it continue in many freaky ways, to Darko's satisfaction.

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Starfall

I'm not rewriting, I'm simply playing your game by allowing my character time to react to literally everything, just like you. You don't even read my posts all the way through and you try to manipulate my posts. Hell, you didn't even bother with posting your character profile. The only thing I've been doing wrong is copying your play style. I guess though there isn't a word in your style that correlates to "react", just "rewrite" and only when someone besides yourself is doing it.

What's more, I can prove I'm right. How about it?

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Starfall

Satori's sixth sense and the Magna Pater's immunity to supernatural detection would be at a stalemate. Apparently both were absolute in their power. Were Satori blind, she'd not be able to see the monster gutting her like a pig (not through her belly, sadly) and wielding her like a ventriloquist dummy until it was too late, and her attempt to stab it in the head would be met not with a dodge, but its tongue hissing into her body at high speed to penetrate her vitals (going around the monster's arm inside of her). Perhaps she thought that it would just hold still, or that her shadows were faster than its tongue?

As for Satori's gauntlets and how she thought the monster's attack worked... Not even close. Perhaps she was only fervently wishing that it worked that way. Its blood had been stopped by the mucous oozing over the stump. But it wasn't that its blood was acidic. It hadn't even hit her with the stump. It was that the incredible acceleration of its tail combined with its most adhesive slime could strip the meat off of Satori's bones by dragging across skin at first contact, then exposed muscle as the tail traveled further and exposed more of its surface area.

The fact that Satori was wearing gauntlets would just make things worse. Either she was forced to let go of the hammer and be ragdolled through the air, or the very gloves would be ripped off taking her fingers along for the ride.

Of course, that was only if Satori's sixth sense could overpower the Magna Pater's immunity. If not, then the monster's mucous would finally release the hammer and in an instant it would be incinerated. Perhaps there was but one way to determine the stronger power...

http://www.shodor.org/interactivate/activities/Coin/

Lord Darko coin flipping to decide their fate!
@Thantos

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Starfall

The Magna Pater always emitted sonar, constantly. Fluctuating the frequency and strength of the noise came naturally to it. As for Satori's "mind's eye", it wouldn't work on the creature. She couldn't smell, hear, taste, or see it. Feel? Yes, but only the pain of it digging into her gut and shivving the largest artery in her body. If she got lucky and the shadow spikes made a bid for the beast's head as it penetrated her, something would become quite apparent. With its head pinning her, it was free to use its right arm, which would preemptively seek to convince her that having it suck her dry was the least of her worries. It would have left some nice gouges on her ankle when it left, but they were nothing compared to the finale.

It was not a nice monster, or a politically correct one. It ate babies, tortured victims for months, and...
Was just then attempting to jam its entire claw, up to the firearm, into Satori's loins. She could try and stop it from sucking her blood... But then she'd lack the immediate resources needed to keep it from yanking her entire digestive system out through her baby hatch.

And the hammer? The monster would deploy its ultimate weapon to deal with that. As the slime and flesh of its body began to sizzle and melt before the immense heat, the tail would flick out to give Satori's grip on the hammer a wet slap, sticking there. She wouldn't let go, so how did it plan to...

*Sccchhhwuck.*

A sickening slurp of skin and muscle disconnecting from bone and tendon. The tail would tear away from Satori's hands with such obscene impetus that its friction with the air would leave a haze of smoke behind, and an echo like that of a gunshot. The meat of Satori's mitts would have been sloughed away, pulled along with the tail like meat off a tender chicken leg. It was a band-aid rip taken up to the most obscenely lethal degree possible. Forget a whip. The Magna Pater could peel her like an orange.

If the hammer's power was connected to Satori, this could very well break the link. Just to be sure though, the tail would then blur out to slap a grip on the hammer's shaft and plow it out from the woman's grasp. If still the heat came though, then the elder horror's pulsing frame would begin to dissolve beneath the heat. Fireproof? This shit wasn't fire. It was pure destruction, and not all the mucous in the world could save it from that. It would devote what few seconds it had left to making Satori's day as nasty as possible.

Dark god Darko welcomes challangers

@Starfall

The back swing hadn't been absorbed by the mucous, it hadn't even had the chance to begin. Her first swing was what had stuck after the monster's arm was blown off. But what really mattered was how the Magna Pater handled Satori's shadow defences. It wouldn't have stuck out its tongue unless it had grabbed her first, and its reaction speed was on par with Satori's. A negligible distance? That was what the monster had had to begin with, and it could handle sudden close range sneak attacks just as well as Satori.

It would unleash a low frequency sonar blast to disrupt Satori's ability to detect it at close range, the noise both cloaking the horror in sound static and disrupting the air pressure in its vicinity so that she couldn't feel the air shifting around it accurately. At the same time it would change the direction of its grasping arm as the spike shot for it in a way similar to how Satori had altered the swing of her hammer, to grab the ankle. She might have had another way if sensing it, and so it was not taking any chances. The monster would then aim to jerk her leg out from under her to its right to force her into dramatically missing its head by changing her entire bodily orientation, wrenching her to her back and making it difficult for her to keep a grip upon the hammer without having to readjust.

What's more, even if the hammer could break the slime's molecular bonds, it could just generate even more slime beneath that to keep the hammer firmly stuck. The slime acted also like an insulator, preventing the elder horror from getting shocked.

She'd be pulled to the ground, the Magna Pater lurching in with a chuckle that sounded as if it had come from a hyena with a mouth full of grave dirt. Anchored to the ground by shadows? The beast would upturn the ground too in the process. She'd wind up lying in front of it, and it would would be close enough so that even if the woman could see the soggy muzzle pressing into her belly, there would be little she could do to keep the tongue from piercing deep and entering her aortic artery. She could theoretically go crazy with the shadow spikes, but with the monster able to manipulate her body so easily with its wild might, she'd feel like less a tiger with its tail grabbed than a garden snake being used as a nun-chuck.

Meanwhile, the tail wasn't done yet. She had only severed what had been in reach, about four feet of it. After having been sliced away, the remainder would rear back out of reach and dip down, slime oozing over the stump to stop the bleeding by the time the Magna Pater had jerked Satori.

The monster had not yet revealed its ultimate weapon, which only its tail could call forth. As soon as the time was right...

Rogues Inc. (Accepting)

@Queentze@Slendy@Kalas@Hjalti@Marik

Donny was walkin' the Green Mile. Normally it takes decades for an execution to commence. Donny had been shoved right to the top after revealing the reservoir where he routinely dumped bodies. Eat your heart out, BTK.

His hands were secured behind his back by a set of cuffs. On either side he was flanked by a large guard carrying an assault rifle. Behind him a priest strode. The guard on the right kept glancing at the nerdy bastard. Despite the imminence of his death, a serene little smile, as faint as a feather, was tacked onto his smooth face. He must have made his peace with God. That, or he belonged in an institution rather than Death Row.

The guard looked ahead with a sigh. His knees were cramping from all of the standing he'd been having to do. Double shifts this week, and not at some prissy desk. He sniffed the air. Something smelled like fucking shit.

*Donny stopped short, the guards whirling towards him and bringing their guns up. Donny's smirk had turned into a grimace.*

"Ayuh... I gone 'n dunnit now boyeehs. Reck'n I'll need new perruh slacks."

"He's fucking shit himself!" the guard on the right said.

"He's bloody soiled himself!" the guard on the left said.

"Son of a bitch bogarted the choco-express right through fucking candyland." the priest said.

Both guards stared at the priest. Another guard came running over.

"The hell is going on here?"

"This sick sack of fucking ogre pricks went and burst the poop piñata."

All three guards and Donny stared at the priest. Donny's eyes suddenly went wide, and he squatted down with a gutteral moan. The Browns had missed the Superbowl, and they were pissed off. The nearest guard took one hand off his rifle and reached out to steady Donny by the shoulder.

*Donny erupted from his crouch with a leap, tucking his knees up to pass his feet over his handcuffs before ramming into the guard that had touched him, twisting into the open arms of the man and clasping both hands about the rifle at the grip and forcing the guard's finger down on the trigger. The other two guards died with eyes that were as large as saucers, drywall dust puffing out from holes in the wall behind them.

Donny shoulder flipped the guard struggling at his back, the hapless man's fingers snapping as the rifle was wrenched from him in the process. The priest watched without expression as Donny emptied the entire gun into the body on the floor.*

"Sawrry fer' this fathuh, but I'll be needin' yuh t'giddouta this sitchation."

With a smug grin Donny walked up to the priest, only to stagger back with blood spraying from a broken nose. The old holy man bounced on his heels, fists raised. Only then did Donny see the tattoo on the priest's forearm.



Donny didn't have time for this Comedy Central bullshit. He pointed over the priest's shoulder with a gasp.

"Behind yeh fathuh! That black man's bouta play tongue twistuh widduh prettuh yawng white girl!"

The priest whirled around, teeth clenched. Nothing there. He then felt a rifle digging into the small of his back.

*It would be on the news. Infamous mafia hitman escaped death row by holding a priest hostage. Once outside they had entered a white Prius with no plates, likely with an accomplice driving, and had escaped before any choppers had arrived on the scene. Not that this had been the only prison break. Others had managed to get loose from the same facility that very day.*

Rogues Inc. (Accepting)

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:

Rogues Inc. (Accepting)

@Marik

GTA V

Rogues Inc. (Accepting)

@Marik

Yup. I find that games with character customization options are a great alternative to scrounging for art.