Doc Doctor

The Return of Dragons: Rebirth!

Name: Dweezil
Gender: Male
Species: Dragon
Age: Hatchling
Appearance: Weighs in at quarter ton, sits at about seven feet in height.


Personality: They say dragons are among the wisest beings on Earth. Such does not stand true for Dweezil, who is mentally incompetent. If there is a blunder to be made, a trap to be set off, a moment to be ruined... Dweezil will be there. He tries quite hard to be a great and terrible princess kidnapping dragon, but in this day and age, and with so staggeringly deficient an intellect, well... At least he can pretend sometimes. He very rarely speaks, often preferring to do rather that say.

Bio: Born a loner, grew up a loner. Too rock stupid and clumsy to keep company with, so he fended for himself as best he could. Still does. Parents ditched him when they saw he was an insufferable dolt. What occurs next, only time will tell.

Power 1: Appetite: Dweezil can eat literally anything, and bite through virtually any material or substance.
Power 2: Muscle: Dweezil has some nasty strength going on, but has difficulty flying due to his little wings and high body mass.

Family: Hit the road
Friends: None. YET.
Sentimental Attachment: None. YET.
Other:

Pet Name: Marley
Pet Age: 1 year
Pet Gender: None
Pet Species: Rock
Pet Appearance: A thirty pound chunk of granite.

Pet Personality: It's a freaking rock.

The Return of Dragons: Rebirth!

@The One

K!

The Return of Dragons: Rebirth!

Name: Dweezil
Gender: Male
Species: Dragon
Age: Hatchling
Appearance: Weighs in at quarter ton, sits at about seven feet in height.


Personality: They say dragons are among the wisest beings on Earth. Such does not stand true for Dweezil, who is mentally incompetent. If there is a blunder to be made, a trap to be set off, a moment to be ruined... Dweezil will be there. He tries quite hard to be a great and terrible princess kidnapping dragon, but in this day and age, and with so staggeringly deficient an intellect, well... At least he can pretend sometimes. He very rarely speaks, often preferring to do rather that say.

Bio: Born a loner, grew up a loner. Too rock stupid and clumsy to keep company with, so he fended for himself as best he could. Still does. Parents ditched him when they saw he was an insufferable dolt. What occurs next, only time will tell.

Power 1: Appetite: Dweezil can eat literally anything, and bite through virtually any material or substance.
Power 2: Muscle: Dweezil has some nasty strength going on, but has difficulty flying due to his little wings and high body mass.

Family: Hit the road
Friends: None. YET.
Sentimental Attachment: None. YET.
Other:

Pet Name: Marley
Pet Age: 1 year
Pet Gender: None
Pet Species: Rock
Pet Appearance: A thirty pound chunk of granite.

Pet Personality: It's a freaking rock.

Arena Chat Thread

Anybody up for a villain themed battle?

I Died & Reincarnated Into- What Is Up With This World!?

@Leaves

Character Concept: Griefer

Name: Pubert the Penetrator

Gender: Male

Background: Well, shit man. I accomplished nothing in life, really. All I did was make squeakers rage in Minecraft and COD. Boring parents, boring house, never had a job. Why am I even bothering to tell you this when I could be ganking you? See you in the next life bitches! Oh, and I died doing your mom. N00b. (He actually choked on some undercooked steak gristle whilst spawn knifing on Black Ops). I'm going to be Pubert the Penetrator, a badass fuckin' elf that can shank n00bs with a knife on his dick. Ultimate victory. But he's like real noble and elfy and pretty and crap, so nobody suspects that he's an asshole.

Level: "You start at level 1."

Class: Thief/Assassin

Race: They will never suspect the noble elf...

Attribute: Finesse

Gift: "Seriously Dude?"- Pubert has a random chance to penetrate his opponent's chest cavity with his weapon, using a magnificent leaping lunge. As the gift grows, the chance of this attack connecting, penetrating armor, and meeting the heart increase. The gift can be used only once per battle and starts with a low chance of success determined by a trio of six-sided dice, with the attack initially only working with a roll of three. Each level gained increases the chance by one dot (1-1-1 at first, then perhaps 1-2-1, then 2-2-1..), up to a 50% chance and no more.

Equipment: Gorgeous green elven garb, all shiny and with gold trim and a little silver leaflet crown. Below the belt, however, is a hidden codpiece with a titanium spring triggered foot-and-a-half blade that pops out between the legs and emerged through the crotch.

Only Two Things Come From Texas (LeeRoy Vs. Gonad)

@LeeRoy

Instant edge, just add Chaplin.

Only Two Things Come From Texas (LeeRoy Vs. Gonad)

@LeeRoy

Gonad took off towards his opponent at a surprisingly fast gait, palms slapping the floor. What was he even going to try to do? Clobber LeeRoy with his ragdoll legs? It would have been stupid had Gonad not looked as if he knew what he was doing. If LeeRoy stood his ground Gonad would slide to a stop three feet in front of him, still with such a deadly look of seriousness on his face that it was comical. A beat would pass, an awkward second for anyone that had expected some sort of sudden trick or unique skill to release their suspense and cover their eyes in humiliation. The barbarian would then whip a left kick at LeeRoy's head, aiming to dish out a flailing boot to the gob whilst the man was awestruck by the sheer stupidity of the situation. It was the sort of attack that was so ruthlessly blatant, so redundantly unexpected by virtue of its audacity, that even a psychic could be hit by it. The sort of blow that you know deep down is coming, but you have difficulty moving because your brain is too busy puzzling over how the fundamental forces that govern the sane universe could possibly allow someone to have the sheer gall to attempt such a thing in broad daylight and among other fully functioning human beings. Yet, it went deeper than that, like a toilet with unplumbed depths. If the kick were countered efficiently, the jocular atmosphere would shatter and Gonad would cease to be an object of comedy, hence rendering him metaphysically lethal in ways before unseen and unimagined, all pretenses of emotional context channeled into the act of laying waste to the one that had ruined the structure of the demi-plot.

LeeRoy was in a real bind this time. Gonad had just grabbed him, not physically, but on some other level that could not be proven to exist. What even was going on? Did Gonad somehow force the battle into a diegesistic loop of karmic pain, driven by the "that which you know should be" which pulsed deep within the hearts of those who observed and influenced from beyond, regardless of will? Was it just a simple kick and nothing else? Or ultimately, was Gonad's skill so phantasmagoric that with his mighty techniques he could trigger an existential crisis by pushing a subconscious moral obligation to take a kick in the face for the sake of entertainment onto an enemy? If so, how far could he take it? Could LeeRoy even register the derisive and perhaps inconsequential subtext that may or may not be permeating Gonad's streamlined motions?

Something Wicked This Way Comes.

Name: Hadrian Summerham

Age: 22

Appearance: A young blonde man with golden hair and a slight build. He always carries a polished steel pitchfork.


Class: Peasant

Alignment: Chaotic neutral

Weapon(s): Pitchfork

Armor/Clothing: Commoners garb, if rather fruity.

Personal trinkets: Many small bags of seeds.

Short History: To be added after I get home from work.

The Memory Remains (Sky Dancer Vs. Gonad)

@Everett

Perhaps raw force couldn't tear open the powered up rubber cocoon. But Gonad's force was far from raw. It was undiluted, yes, but also concentrated and imbued with the potential to scale with any challenge. Gonad wasn't just strong. He was STRONG. Strength was who he was, and it was his only true power. As Sky tried to contain Gonad, it could very well feel as if he were in front of a locomotive that was about to leave the station. A massive choo-choo that was slowly but steadily picking up speed, quickly gaining more inertia and mass. The barbarian was an absolute engine of muscle and will, to whom the notion of not meeting a challenge was as far and as alien as planet Yuggoth.

If Sky's energy was overwhelmed, then the rubber around Gonad's body would stretch taut as he flexed, the colors fading into a translucent white like when a pretty balloon is forced to the breaking point and the paint is spread too thin to see. For just a moment he would resemble a man made of taffy.

It was true that there did exist things that strength alone could simply not overcome. Gonad, however, was not something that had been taken into account when the abstract concept of the "immovable wall" had been created. The spiritual translation of the kinetic energy of their brief exchange infused with elasticity and sustained by another being? It could work on nearly anyone. Gonad, however...

His expression was the same as it had been before, obliviously stoic. It was the look of someone that didn't really know what all was going on, but still wanted to look as if they did. Gonad could pull it off nicely. In his spare time he would sometimes walk up to a group of chatting strangers and just stand there nodding sagely, as if he had an inkling of what they were talking about. Gonad knew that he was in a fight, but he probably had no clue about why a bouncy castle had been involved, or why said bouncy castle had just gotten all clingy. All he knew was that there was an obstacle in his way, and one that he was going to stretch apart and grab and tear in short order.

The Memory Remains (Sky Dancer Vs. Gonad)

@Everett

Gonad wasn't a trickster. He just improvised with style, assuming that raw, unchained muscle could be a style. There was a philosophy for it. To quickly beat an opponent, you needed only the power to conquer, and the means to efficiently deliver that power in such a way as assures victory. Gonad had the power, he had it in excess. Now to see if his opponent could escape the means by which said power was delivered. Sky had shifted his weight backwards and avoided Gonad's grasp, but he hadn't taken a step in retreat and Gonad's foot was placed between Sky's own stompers. Escape to the outside of the barbarian's reach would be difficult. Of course Sky might try to move back in, but Gonad was a grappler by nature, by essence. Getting closer was suicide without redemption or condition. Right now though, what mattered was Gonad's punch. It came slowly at first. Abdominals shifting and grinding as the upper body began its turn, the grisly fist starting to drift forwards like a satellite in orbit. Gonad's rear heel screwed into the rubbery turf as the satellite became a meteor, and then a comet. A blaze of hot glory streaking through the nether, piercing the air as a needle pierces silk. Gonad's face was contorted in a devil's grimace of toil, eyes slit to steaming vents and lips curling with passionate malediction. It was a wicked haymaker, all right, and aimed for Sky's jawline, on the left side. Needless to say Sky would be creamed if it hit, and that would be all folks. There was enough wallop to launch his body into several dozen cartwheels before the inert mass plowed through the bouncy castle and into the dirt hard enough for his head to dig a fifteen meter trench. It was so simple though. A big punch with a ton of wind-up.

But...

Was it too easy? Sky could predict the barbarian's body, but there was something missing. Something wrong. Gonad's punch wasn't just a punch, but Sky wouldn't be able to tell what, at least not right now. The closest image his mind would be able to come to approximating the barbarians entire action would be something akin to a...

a...

a...