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5 yrs ago
Current Moved to Discord. Visit my YouTube channel (ArtyPickles PvP) at m.youtube.com/channel/UCVer…

Bio

Call me Doc. I prefer RM, UM, or LP fights, with human or peak human hand-to-hand or swords & sandals being my speciality.
Challenge me to a match any old time!

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

Most Recent Posts

@Hokum

-Donny pushed the plate to the floor and crossed his arms. He looked rather pissed off. He wasn't. It had been a personality test. He'd wanted to see if she was the jumpy sort who'd teleport off at the first sign of trouble, if her paranoia might prevent him from digging his claws in. This brashness was beyond his expectations though. Perhaps she wanted to record herself getting a rise out of him, something that'd stand in a case against him. Not that he intended to stay long.-

"Hmph. Guess yah don't have faith in meh, regardless of why yah be actin' like yah ain't no professional. An' hee-yah yah are, thinkin' Ah'm anythin' more'n a foreign bounty huntah who got lost 'n found. Yah even tryin' for ah fight with someone who ain't in court? Ya don't believe in miracles eithah, do yah?"

-He unfolded his arms, and in his right hand was a roll of quarters, the wrapping split at the top. He put his thumb upon the top coin, carefully angled the roll sideways, and with a neat flick sent the quarter rolling across the floor. It circled around Fanny and her chair before wobbling to a stop before the toe of Donny's left shoe, having made a full circuit before it fell flat. Donny eyed the mounted weapons for any tells as he carried on.-

"Hee-yah's a lil personal proverb Ah'll share with yah mah'm. All coins are trick coins. But even then, in what do men trust?"
@Hokum

-Donny dug into the pizza, eating as quickly as he could without choking. He ate like an animal, in a hurry to finish his meal. He wouldn't answer her until he finished, roughly a minute later. He brushed the crumbs from his mustache, and looking contemplative, answered her question.-

"Mmmmm... Whah not ask thah livin' Gawd hisself? Aftah all..."

-He tilted his face down, giving her a good Kubrick stare, eyes guileless and genuine.-

"Yaw're alreadah dead."

-He held up his left hand, and gave his fingers a sharp snap that reverberated throughout the room...-
@Hokum
-Donny gave the room a quick once over. He then glanced down his body, casually noting how lax they had been about leaving him his articles. Perhaps he wasn't under arrest, but in some kind of light detention. No little confiscation box he'd been forced to put all his possessions in, no prison garb with a number on the back. Not too shabby. The room didn't have too many resources, but there were enough. He sat up and looked down to see if either chair were bolted to the floor. They were. He then studied the turrets. He leaned to the left, then the right, to see if they'd track his movement. Afterwards, he finally answered the woman, after intently studying her clothes to see if she wore any loose articles like a tie. At least they were practical about attire. She wasn't wearing anything that he felt could be used to efficiently kill someone with.-

"Ayuh. Ah'm partial to 'em. Got a pizza fah meh? Black coffee puhaps?"

-He wondered if she was going to interview or interrogate him. He figured he'd wait until he knew for sure if they'd release him, and until after he ate. He figured he could use her as a hostage, worst case. She probably wasn't going to use that door. She could likely teleport in and out of the room, so if he was going to take her, he'd have to use his wits.-

"Am Ah under arrest? Gonnah haftah go tah court or whatevah yah folks gawt? If so Ah'd like to hear thah charges an' speak to mah lawyer. Othahwise, if yah don't mahnd, Ah'd like tah ask a few questions 'bout where Ah've found mahself. Nevah been on a spaceship before, Mah'm."

-His lazy Down East accent was almost Forest Gump-like, but lighter, sharper, with a well pronounced emphasis on the consonants. It hinted at the resolute confidence of an educated man from a hard, rural background.-

@Hokum

-Donny gave Dr. Fock a faint grin, tilting his head up just long enough to acknowledge the alien before resting it back down.-

"Ah'm healthy as a horse, sah. Jus' take care when yah remove mah articles..."

-He allowed himself to inhale the gas. They'd surely strip him down and confiscate his belongings, maybe even put him in an observation cell. Donny had been in a cell only once before, and not a high tech one. This was going to be unusual, even for him, but he didn't have much choice, and at least he was on-board. One step at a time, is how a journey's end approaches.
If those administering medical care to Donny attempted to remove his overcoat or shirt by the lapels, the razors sewn in might give one of their fingers a nip. An old trick to surprise those who thought that grabbing someone by the collar was a good idea. Plus, you never know when you may need a hidden razor.
Unclothed, Donny had a dad bod. A reasonable layer of fat over supple, functional muscles, the kind you achieve not from bodybuilding, but from various degrees and disciplines of hard work and practical training over the course of many years. He had no scars, only a variety of large, intricate 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

-Dominating Donny's nearly hairless 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 vast 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 coiling about its hooves and snout, the spirits of the dead. 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
@Hokum
-Donny got hit a second time, this one dead-on in the center mass. He fell to a knee, about to topple as his muscles seized up. His 3A vest hadn't provided any insulation against the high tech weapon! Donny couldn't even force himself to grab for any other tricks at that moment. A new kind of pain then struck him in the back. That goofy leader of theirs. He'd come more quickly than Donny had thought he would. The damn woman and her screaming had surely brought him. Donny clutched his arms across his waist, gasped loudly, then threw out his hands and pitched onto his side, gagging on the blood rising from a ruptured lung. His guns were nowhere to be seen, but his hands looked empty at least. Donny had weighed his options at that moment. Might he have silently unpinned a grenade to leave behind when he was teleported? Perhaps a small, black ring might have appeared on his right thumb after he threw out his hands, and with the weight of his fall the lethal nanowire cast into the air would take someone's head along with it.

But Donny's inner survivor was quick to point out the stupidity of such a thing. This was the fleet admiral and he was the only one not wearing a protective suit. If only he died, the survivors would likely refuse him treatment, and he'd just be beamed right the fuck back down to this barren scrap of dirt and wind. It wasn't worth the risk of being shot either, and Donny knew not precisely when he'd be teleported.
Donny stared back at Dino, hands empty, no rings or pins or knives in sight. Only... A cigarette. It'd appeared from between two fingers, a magic trick. He'd pull his gas mask off and toss it to the side, using his last breath on this planet to finally say something true.-


"Not Buzz. *Cough*. Name's Fahst-Dahgree Donneh. Come bah an' see meh sometime."

-He poked the cigarette into the corner of his mouth, and gave the Cap'n a pained little parting wave accompanied by a disarming wince.-
@Hokum@Dartbored Fairy
-Cas moved faster than Donny had anticipated, his inhuman strength lending him just enough pep to defy the expectations Donny had set for a man his size. The blast grazed Donny's shoulder and an intense shock flooded his body.-

~Hit... Dead!? Careless...~

-But no. Donny still drew breath, and he even managed to hold onto his Glock. In fact it hadn't been any worse than the OC training Donny used to have to undergo now and then. 50,000 volts was how much power most police-grade stun guns delivered, he'd felt it before on multiple occasions. Simple Marines get tased in basic training. Donny had been a marine, and he had to be tased even more during and after his special forces training.
He'd been careless, hadn't figured that otherworldly technology can belong to beings with otherworldly strength and intelligence. Donny made a mental note not to make the same mistake again. As Cas landed, Donny recovered more quickly than might have been anticipated. He had only turned halfway to Cas earlier, precisely so that when he drew his revolver with his other hand, it wouldn't be noticed either. A bullet magnitudes larger than the 9mm barreled out of Donny's coat with a crack like raging thunder, but the aim was different this time. Donny had registered that the suits were somewhat bulletproof after seeing Madot survive, and so he got creative. The massive .454 bullet was set to his Cas in the pad of his jaw at mach 1.7, hitting like a jaw-busting knockout punch that'd rock his brain in its case and leave him unconscious rather than dead. If it hit, then Donny'd pivot towards the other two, firing both guns at once in two separate directions with incredible accuracy and timing, bald brows furrowed together in concentration.
He lead a .454 bullet towards Madot's jaw as he had the other man, aim concealed and impeccable. The 9mm R.I.P bolted for Shard's lead left foot right as she shifted her weight forwards on her next step, that her foot would be pushed out from beneath her and she'd unbalance and potentially fall flat on her face.
It'd take Donny approximately three-quarters of a second to fire all three shots upon recovering from being grazed by a stun charge, and a second more to sweep over Madot's body like a low, black shadow, pistols holstered, to swipe up the quantum rifle and bring it to bear on the group. He'd set it to stun after a quick glance at Cas's rifle for example. He didn't want to risk damaging too many of the teleportation devices with that absurd blast radius.
With a quantum rifle in his hands, the maroon tendrils of flickering danger that could be felt rising from Donny's frame would swarm into an exultant, palpable frenzy of imminent doom. If Hida survived Cas's shot, she'd notice that Donny was calmly regarding her, eyes as flat and staring as a funhouse portrait, the kind whose gaze seems to follow you heedless of which angle you look at it from.-
@Hokum

-Donny took the mask and put it on. He figured it wasn't bulletproof, not when such an advanced race had interstellar flight, teleportation, and very likely energy weapons rather than kinetic ones. From behind the gas mask, Donny's eyes dully regarded the pattern and positioning Dino's finger took as it operated the teleportation device. At least he may be able to reach the proper interface to choose a point to teleport to. For Donny to have been born with an eidetic memory, whomever the bigwig in charge of making men was, he certainly had a bad sense of humor. As the light encircled him, he could feel the little black strings of fate tugging at his heart. He was still hungry, but a true professional can work on an empty stomach and a promise of good things to come. He slipped his hands into his pockets, put on a slouch, and smirked.

Two men and a female. One aims a gun. Donny is calm, he knows of this breed.

The one called Shard moved closer, and introduces herself.

To him there are only two species. Those that give you a chance and those that don't.

Donny introduces himself as well, because a reply is a natural thing and it humanizes the one you're pointing a weapon at, the conscience drags at the trigger finger.

Anyone who needs more than one chance is not deserving of another, and those who give a chance have their own taken away.


"Hello theyah missus Shard. I feel I oughtah tell yah thah truth. Admiral Gavin sahprised me with his frenetic demeanah, and Ah lied 'bout mah name to be careful. Do allow me tah intrahduce mahself for real. I am Marty. Marty McFly. And you sah, may I ask yah name?"

Donny gently half turned towards the man who wasn't aiming a gun at his head, looking inquisitive. Abruptly a muffled bark sounded out from Donny's overcoat. A small, smoking hole had been made in the side of the coat facing Madot, and Madot himself was liable to have a similar hole between his eyes, at an angle that'd carry the spiraling, fragmented shrapnel of the R.I.P bullet into his skull cavity, effectively shredding his brain and destroying his central nervous system before he could pull the trigger. Such a thing would drop him like a puppet with its strings cut. Donny's pockets had holes in them for a wider range of concealed motion, and he had turned from the one pointing the gun so they wouldn't see the blink-and-you'll-miss-it bend of his elbow until it was too late, his silenced Glock going off from within his coat, flattened across his torso with the bullet proof vest guarding his skin against the hot gas and carbon emitted by the chamber.

It looked like they needed to operate their devices to communicate. This would impede aiming, though their rifles weren't even at the ready. They'd have to choose between fighting or alerting Dino, but Donny supposed he should do his best to allow them neither. He didn't want that woman to scream as well, but some things are tough to remedy. He did not pause for thought after he shot at the man. Donny already knew what he was going to do.
@Hokum

-Donny immediately straightened up and clicked his heels together, saluting sharply to Dino, every bit the eager young recruit. It'd not be difficult to tell he was doing his best to keep from grinning with joy in order to look professional before the captain, an endearing display. There was no real joy in his soul at the moment. Only a black, smoldering contentment, charcoal embers of witching-hour anticipation.-

"Ayuh sir! Rookie Cadet Junior Buzz Lightyear, sir!"

-Look at the little sidekick pet trying to be official. Bright eyed and bushy-tailed, arms stiff at his sides, Donny briefly considered which position aboard the flagship he'd most enjoy. This was as good as a formal job offer by all means.-
@Hokum@Zyngard@Dartbored Fairy

-Someone rose from the ranks of prone and huddling refugees, a decidedly aberrant figure whose face was framed in shadow and obscured by the brim of a fedora. Dino's teleportation hadn't gone unnoticed. Donny had seen such things on the telly, but never in person. He'd waft over to them like a black fart, feet scarcely making a sound. What'd give him away was the growling of his belly. It'd been nearly two days since he'd arrived, and just as long since he'd eaten. A strange new world, and not one he was familiar with. Such things could be remedied, but a brain can't run on fumes.-

"Pardon me, missus and sir. I could not help but notice yuh got yuhself a teleporter there. How's 'bout givin' us a formal job offah on that flagship of yours, hmm? Could use a warm meal."
@Hokum
Cool, and just so you know, about a minute ago I edited a pic into Donny's profile. I didn't make any other changes.
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