Doc Doctor

Gotham City: Shadow of the Bat

Okay, so I'll ask everyone's permission. Whomever does not wish to risk character death, tell me.

The Walking Dead-From the beginning -Closed

@RumikoOhara

Lassar got back to his feet with a grunt, and pointed at Tina.

"Got a rope kid? Just tie me up top. I'll turret them dead fucks."

He looked utterly serious about being tied to the top of the vehicle like a piece of luggage. Why, that's what he did in Korea. They strapped him to an APC and drove right through those Kims. In Afghanistan it was the underside he had been acquainted with. That way as they rolled through the deserts, he was able to snag lizards and cacti to eat.

The one problem that arose from being tied to military vehicles originated from the need to take a shit. Awkward as hell to empty your bowls as the surface upon which you are attached bounces erratically with each body the wheels roll over. Like speedbump city. They had strong windshield wipers in those days though, so it usually turned out fine.

The Walking Dead-From the beginning -Closed

@RumikoOhara

Lassar stared blankly at the woman, not seeming to comprehend what she was saying. Then he slowly blinked twice and coughed into his hand. His body began trembling, as if his old age had finally caught up to him. He'd then fall to his knees, fingers grasping at the sky as he made clear his dilemma.

"Alzheimer's! Arthritis! Dementia! I can't bathe meself! If only a pretty young girl would help a poor old man, sufferin' for his very life, get clean."

Was that a twinkle in Lassar's eye? Yup. No doubt about it. He was a pervenstein. But then, weren't all crazy hobos? As if to compound the fact, a male zombie vagrant wearing women's swimwear began rattling the gate. It sported the bikini fairly well.

Gotham City: Shadow of the Bat

@Ruby
What's your policy on killing? Can I kill another PC, or should I ask for the user's permission first?

@Krot

Yeah, because Krot and I intend on being pretty ruthless in our methods of reaching Batman. If there's a permission to kill rule, we'll likely wind up asking and being refused very, very often.

FACE FISTED: Billuh Vs. Gonad

@Liliya

Gonad's hand was easily the size of a catchers mitt. Billuh'd have little way of seeing what came next. To most beings that had found themselves in this position, their next sight typically revealed itself to be the afterlife.

Gonad's right hand would be removed from Billuh's face. Only, it would have been instantly replaced by the barbarian's left fist, whose swift passing through the gnome's flailing arms would have been obscured until the last possible moment. The middle knuckle was set to just make contact with the base of Billuh's chin in order to maximize torque. The pressure placed on whatever Billuh had in place of a cervical vertebrae could be very well enough to knock something loose, should the blow land. Instant death for any biological lifeform, but Billuh perhaps had a defensive one up on creatures of meat and blood.

The World of War: Central Hub/Main Thread/Chen's Tavern

@LeeRoy

I have to admit, I usually just skim over the rules in most roleplays. It's a bad habit I've always had.

The World of War: Central Hub/Main Thread/Chen's Tavern

Donny entered the tavern just in time to see the Panda's outburst. Though startled, he wasn't caught off guard. He had seen some crazy shit this past year. Kung Fu wizards, secret agent aliens, even Batman. Batman, for fuck's sake, from those dumb comics. Now he had gone and gotten himself pulled into some sort of cosmic intersection for the deadliest entities in existence.

Oh well, Geronimo.

Donny slipped both hands into the deep pockets of his overcoat. His fighting stance. No, scratch that. As a rule of thumb, he avoided fighting. It was his killing stance. The right hand stayed put. The left withdrew a pack of cigarettes. He flicked one out and took it between his lips, and then lefty went back into hiding. He wasn't ready to light up yet. In situations like this, preparation and knowledge came first. Also, some fucking coffee.

Donny stalked silently up to the bar, all noir and shit with the brim of his fedora tilted over his eyes. He stopped at the counter and took his hat off, setting it on a stool to his left. Orange hair, sprayed back, resembled licks of subdued fire impressed down his scalp. He shrugged off the large duffel bag slung over his back, allowing it to hit the floor with a resounding thump.

"Ayuh, mightah gentleman be correct in assumin' he can get a cuppah coffah hee-yaw?"

The World of War: Central Hub/Main Thread/Chen's Tavern

First-Degree Donny

Name: Donovan Booth
Alias: "First-Degree" Donny
Age: 36
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 160 pounds
Race: Human
Alignment: Evil Neutral
Eye Color: Green



Appearance: A slight but sturdy man with no eyebrows, a baby-face, emerald eyes, a porn stache, and slicked back ginger hair. 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.



Weapons and Equipment-

-Customised Model M513 Raging Judge Magnum revolver with a titanium firing cylinder and a Mernickle quick draw holster worn on the thigh. The rifling of the barrel, the cylinder tapering, and the frame are modified in a manner reminiscent of the Smith & Wesson Model 460XVR, to accommodate high speed .460 Magnum rounds. Put simply, the most powerful six round revolver on the planet. Donny carries three .45 Colt 325 grain Buffalo Bore moon clips, one .410 bore clip, three .454 Casull XTP Hornady clips, and three .454 Hornady jacketed hollow point clips, and three .460 Magnum 200 grain DPX Cor-Bon clips. The hammer is modified to allow for fanning as a faster alternative to the double-action function.

-Unfiltered Camel soft pack cigarettes.

-Zippo lighter.

-A roll of quarters.

-Fake police inspector badge.

-Trench coat with holes in the pockets.

-A modified X800 ShadowHawk flashlight secured to his belt on the left side. It has a custom tactical rail attached, and can be connected to the top of the Magnum's barrel or to the MP5.

-Heckler & Koch MP5 with three 100-round beta feed magazines, utilizing .40 S&W hollow point rounds and a silencer. This is carried in a satchel.

-.950 JDJ rifle with one round, loaded. This 85 pound gun is kept in the back of Donny's van, which is usually nearby. Comes with a scope.

-Five pull-pin fragmentation 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.

-Twenty-five foot razor sharp microfilament garrote wire reel concealed within a wristwatch that can be withdrawn via clip ring. It's almost invisible to the naked eye, as light as a spider's web, sharp enough to cut through bone with effort, and can withstand up to 2,200 pounds of tension without breaking. Donny can control how much is extracted and retracted with the interface of his watch.

-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.

-Four adhesive bombs in the same satchel as his tommy gun, which can be remotely detonated via digital watch or set with a timer. Each bomb contains enough TNT to scrap a minivan.















Physical Abilities/Skills: Donny looks like a geeky dad, the kind of embarrassing adult that could be found doing jumping jacks in neon dolphin 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 peak human gunslinging abilities in addition to a level of manual dexterity and slight of hand most oftenly attributed to master street magicians. He is extremely deceptive, excelling in both acting and psychological warfare, in addition to having a photographic memory combined with a formidable spatial sense. He has over seventeen years of experience in urban combat as an elite professional killer, 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 Magnum revolver, 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 revolver's power, the .45 Colt slugs can put a one inch hole through a steel cooking pan at mid-range. The Casull rounds travel at Mach 1.7 and need but a single shot to take down an African bull elephant. The Casull hollow points can reduce a wild boar's innards to custard. The .460 Magnum rounds travel at Mach 2, easily faster than even .500 and .600 bullets, and can vaporize a human head as if it were a rotten cabbage.



At close range with the .410 rounds, Donny can empty the chamber and turn a human into hamburger in less time than it takes for the body to hit the ground. His secret weapon, the .950 JDJ rifle, fires a bullet with over nineteen tons of force per square foot.
It can literally shoot through schools.





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 revolver. He follows orders only because he likes having something to do, and what he likes to do is kill. As long as there is violence in the distance he will allow others to give him direction, for a price.
He's outrageously crafty and as mean as an Arizona rattler, albeit with a nigh unbreechable calmness some would decidedly call detachment, though it isn't. He's an adrenaline junkie that gets his fix any way he can, primarily by way of murder, but also by driving like a complete maniac, playing games with law enforcement, and committing acts of terrorism. He 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.
He likes taking first-class rides at the airport, drinking black coffee, making faces at children, and visiting strip clubs.



Background: 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. In his youth he won several national marksman championships. As soon as he got his driver's license, he stole his parent's van and 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 crime syndicate hit man that dispatched anyone who filched on their gambling debts, seizing their assets for himself along with 20-40% of however much money they owed to his employers, plus expenses. He not only impressed the crime bosses as a lethal and merciless efficient bookie enforcer. Obviously his reputation decreased business, but it was a simple matter for the higher ups to conceal his involvement in many of the deaths. The consistency of his work easily made up for any gamblers he slew or scared away by proxy.

Whenever he wasn't popping filchers, he was taking up hits. Assassinations of all kinds were welcome. He grew into the role of an underworld grim reaper, dreaded to such an extend that even the Mafia dared not to double-cross him. Even the local police, to avoid mass casualties, decided to simply stay out of his way. The way they saw it, no possible confrontation with him could result in anything less than a catastrophe rivaling 9/11. The Feds were only called in once, and never again after having eight dozen of their own slaughtered in an incident so brutally embarrassing, it was wiped from the records and in Donny's place a patsy was tossed to the dogs, the failure so complete that a cover-up was the only way to preserve the public's respect for the government. Whenever the hitman comes roaring by in his big white van, with its souped up engine and screaming, fiery tailpipes, no cops dare to try and pull him over. They've been warned well about the fella known as "First-Degree" Donny. They also avoid investigating too deeply into any murder scene where unfiltered Camel cigarette butts are found. He seems able to kill anyone, anywhere, within a week regardless of their location or importance. Perhaps it's fortunate that nobody who has thus far asked him to kill the president has had enough money to pay him for the job. These days, as a hobby he stalks and kills prostitutes in alleys and subways with a claw hammer.

Theme Music:

Arena Chat Thread

Anyone up for a human/low tier ranked match?

RAINING BLOOD - Noxx Vs. Donny

@Liliya

The grenade didn't explode, and no bullet came flying for the alien as she dove for cover. Instead, a second grenade rattled on over, landing on her other side to box her in evenly between the explosives. This one had the pin pulled.

Then the bullet came. It blasted out from beneath the glare as the flashlight was raised slightly. The bullet would impact the grenade to her left as the one on her other side went off, having apparently been cooked long enough for the two detonations to coincide. Unless Noxx's shield kicked in again, she'd be reduced to a pile of organic matter suitable for filling Taco Bell burritos with.