Doc Doctor

~Gonad's New Year Gauntlet~

Been feeling pretty anxious if you know what I mean. This thread shall stay open and active until 2020, and until then I'll be taking on all who come hither.

If you're here and looking to apply you should already know the ground rules, as well as tiering. This won't be beginner friendly. I'm looking for RM-URM human/peak human/low superhuman tier fights. Try to stay within the animal kingdom when it comes to physical ability, and no modern weaponry including firearms. Supernatural abilities will be case-by-case, should be fine for the most part so long as they fit in the tiers. Literacy is a must it goes without saying, the devil's in the details you know. Read closely and remember what the first three letters of 'assume' are.

I'll be using Gonad, with his berserkergang buff available only against superhumans.

There will be a 72 hour time limit on each post. If there is an issue that needs to be discussed, the timer will reset to the last time we interacted OOC. In other words, if either fighter does not address or respond to an OOC message for 72 hours it's also a DQ.

Try to remember to @mention after every post.

The damage I take from every fight stacks.

Each fight will occur in chronological order as a series of no-holds-barred 1v1 fights. You may use whatever previous fighters leave behind.



You can eyeball the dimensions of the setting based on this image. Whatever is in the image is in the fight.

Vampire Tyrant (Dead)

@Viper Commando

I could find a judge if you need one. Activity here is rather scant these days, so finding proper judges can be difficult.

Vampire Tyrant (Dead)

@Shadow Dragon

Ah, well, it looks like I've tried to steal your opponent. I suppose we may fight as well. I've noticed that your vampire can dodge lasers and crush boulders with ease. His character sheet mentions nothing of his approximate speed or strength, and what have you, so I'd just like to clear a few things up first so we may have an enjoyable match.

Will his physical abilities be comparable to my own characters'?

He can shapeshift at will but reverts if his concentration is disrupted. However, there is no specified limit on his shapeshifting abilities nor his mental concentration, thus should I assume he will or won't be able to cheese me by just turning into intangible matter or a fluid state that I would have little hope of attacking, and I should think there would be few things that could actually disrupt his will short of psychic attacks?

He can copy powers, but what if the enemy he fights has tremendous psychic and supernatural resistances? Is there justification for some of their abilities being a bit 'too much' for him to copy or influence?

Vampire Tyrant (Dead)

@Viper Commando

If you'd still like a match, Scorpion is indeed about the tier I'm most comfortable with. I'd be glad to experience someone fighting as him.

~Catskull~

Catskull

Name: Catskull Maclung
Age: 33
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 246 pounds
Boxing Reach: 80.0 in
Race: Human
Dominant Hand: Left
Weapons and Equipment-

*A Damascus steel Dane sword with the following specifications-
Overall length: 58" (147 cm)
Blade length: 42" (106.7 cm)
Blade width at base: 1.4" (3.5 cm)
Weight: 4 lbs 10 oz (2.1 kg)



*A Scottish backsword with the following specifications-
Overall length: 40"
Blade Length: 33"
Weight: 3lbs, 2 oz
Blade Width: 32.6mm



*A 16" X 16" five pound targe buckler strapped to his right forearm with five 5" spikes. There's a gap on the side of the shield to allow full range of motion for his wrist.



*A rope tied about his waist just below a leather belt.

*A stiletto with an eight inch blade in an oiled sheath strapped to the inside of his targe.



*A black steel Norman helmet fitted firmly to his head.


*Steel plating inside the knuckles of his leather gloves, inside his boots, and over his knees.

*Beneath his robes is a full layer of steel scale armor with another layer of pleated leather beneath. His full armor kit weighs in at a total of 24 pounds.



Appearance- Catskull is a large, pale-skinned man with rugged, imposing angular facial features and a black bowl cut framing dull yellow eyes. He's of a powerful, sturdy, and lithe build.

Personality- Sometimes good guys don't wear white. Catskull is not a nice man, nor a reasonable man, nor a sane man. He prides himself predominantly on his status, as a cultured and educated noble with nerves of steel. He values class and social standing, is well-spoken, and stays far, far away from those he deems to be 'peasants'. He comes off as cold-hearted, and that's because he is. He generally sticks to what's legal and doesn't antagonize those who stay out of his way, and if he sees someone in need of help, he'll help them if he likes them. On the flipside, he has no mercy for those who cross him.
Catskull has a dark sense of humor, and he's fond of making light (or dark) of any situation no matter how grim or whimsical. He seems to suffer from an inability to take anything seriously except petty grievances, which inexplicably drive him up a wall, especially when 'peasants' touch him. He's immensely selfish, and never shares unless it's a matter of life or death, or loss of limb. The dedication he has to the purpose of restoring his family's name and wealth is unbreakable.

Background- There existed a clan of nobles known as the Maclungs, lead by the evil sorcerer Malimore Maclung. Malimore, unbeknownst to his clan, had been slowly siphoning the life from his own kin to extend his own. When a Maclung's life force inevitably dwindled, they'd 'run out of luck', dooming them and their bloodline to a life of fatal misfortune. Every Maclung, cruel in their own right due to their lack of a spirit and conscience, died before the age of thirty. There have only ever been two exceptions. The dark wizard Suliss Maclung, the chosen pupil and future successor to Malimore, and Catskull Maclung who was spared his soul. He was the only one Malimore allowed to remain whole due to the old sorcerer's need for a competent bodyguard, unplagued by bad luck and a short life expectancy.

Malimore had Catskull trained in the ancient arts of man and beast slaying, and had the many of the most fearsome warriors in the world teach him the ways of combat. He mastered the versatile Dane sword in conjunction with a targe, his already diabolical strength amplified by the weight of the targe to such an extend that he can halfway separate a man from collar to pelvis with a horse cut. He's a master swordsman and a formidable athlete, able to dart in and out of combat and seamlessly flow between stances and guards, a mobile threshing machine. He learned to use his blade as well as his body, and his body as well as his blade.
Uncommon for his time, he stretches every day as a part of his training and has the flexibility of a martial artist.

Catskull could have grown into a truly decent fellow if his uncle hadn't been so vile. Good or bad he was intent on being his own man, not the lackey of an old monster. He eventually ditched Malimore and fled to new lands, seeking to establish his own house of nobility to recreate the Maclung bloodline properly. Once he has resurrected the House Maclung, he intends to fulfill his oath to slay his wicked uncle and brother and end the bloodline curse of the Maclungs for good.
Until then he wanders, seeking fortune, fame, and worthy adversaries with whom he may hone his skills.

Stats- Catskull can bench 350, squat 525, and run 17 MPH while wearing his kit.



Theme-

Peach Feast In The Jade Emperor's Palace

@LeeRoy

Shin had been caught, but not flat-flooted. Like Gonad he was able to act inbetween the moments that most would have spent stuck in indecision. Shin too was an engine of deadly efficiency, but there was a vital difference in this particular scenario. Shin had traversed many lands over many ages, and surely had mastered many arts besides Kung-Fu. He'd likely even touched the Way of the Void, that ultimate skill of learning to learn, adapting on the fly to new circumstances without any self doubt.
Gonad's realm of experience was somewhat different. Born amongst Neanderthals who desired only physical strength, he created from scratch a complete art of bare-handed slaying and through trial and error perfected it. When it came to grappling, Gonad did not need to guess or improvise. He already knew what to do and so did his body, from his fingers to his toes. Thus, as soon as Shin began pushing on Gonad's head, a singular feeling lit up within the barbarian, one as familiar as each face in his family. That feeling was...

~~~I know what to do~~~

As Shin began forcing himself up, Gonad immediately helped him. He slid his hands back into a clamplike grip on Shin's lovehandles and thrust him up overhead, using Shin's own convenient intentions against him to morph the simple powerbomb into...
An elevated powerbomb. The Undertaker utilized this move under the name 'Last Ride'. Although Shin's head would be just roughly eleven feet above the ground, the landing would be comparable to a fall from an eight story building.

Should Shin be elevated, then with a great heave Gonad would turn to the right and bow faster than a Japanese salaryman who farted next to his boss in an elevator. A table stacked with platters of peaches. It'd practically explode as Shin's body whipped through it, but it'd help to break his fall a bit. He'd still slap hard against the floor with a noise like a thunder clap, but he'd not sustain any mortal injuries. It was a good thing he was so stacked, any other human would have died on the spot, cushion or no cushion. Gonad would release Shin as he hit the table, sinewy hands sliding down his plummeting opponent's legs until they latched dextrously onto either ankle, such that Shin upon impact would still be in the barbarian's clutches, legs held up off the ground as Gonad beamed enthusiastically down like a child in a toy store.

"HRAH! Good warm up such was! Enough sparring this be, now have real fight we can."

There was no irony in Gonad's voice.

Peach Feast In The Jade Emperor's Palace

@LeeRoy

This time the technique Shin used was something Gonad had never seen before. When a wild beast encounters the unknown, the first instinct is to retreat. Find safety, wait out the storm and prepare better for the next time. Survival is all that matters. It's easy to assume that Gonad has the same instincts as a wild beast, and would try to evaluate anything suspicious from a safe distance.

Such thinking was the bane of all warriors. One who seeks to preserve their life loses it, as only prey flees. For some, fighting is like driving a car. Going by the book, you stop at red lights, go on green, avoid contact with other vehicles, and obey the speed limit. If Gonad were in a motor vehicle, he wouldn't even dignify the traffic lights with a glance. He'd take a shortcut through a government building and then careen off a cliff.
Despite the technique being new to Gonad he was able to discern it in a heartbeat, waylaying all inessential information with the astute simplicity of a child and siezing his next opportunity without hesitation. Instead of retracting his leg immediately after the kick, Gonad paused a moment to see how Shin recovered and then stepped forwards during the second revolution, vomit still running down his beard.

Partway through that second horizontal spin, when his back was to Gonad, Shin might abruptly feel an immense weight settling firmly onto his inwards pointing thumbs, temporarily pinning his hands in place and killing a significant portion of his potential energy on the roundabout, perhaps damaging his arms with his own momentum as well. He'd be able to see what had happened immediately. With a downright scary sense of timing, Gonad would have trapped the thumbs under the ball of his left foot, the same he'd just kicked with, and bearing down with his quarter-ton of weight would invade Shin's personal space prematurely and grab him by the hips, transitioning into a belly to back waistlock as he wrenched Shin into the air like a sack of spuds while stepping off his thumbs. The spinning leg(s) might whack against Gonad's right bicep if Shin could stretch enough, but the power would be relatively insubstantial and far from the stopping power required to slow down the behemoth.

Should this occur, then a brief feeling of weightlessness would accompany the sight of the sky flipping overhead. In two blinks Shin would be staring at the Jade Emperor from his perch atop Gonad's shoulders, the Jade Emperor staring back, bewildered by the strange counter. Gonad had swung Shin's 250 pound body up into a backwards piggyback, and would hold him in place with the waistlock, forearms squeezing into his opponent's love handles. From there Shin could easily wail on the brute's head, strangle that thick neck between his thighs, or any number of other fearsome attacks, but... There it was again. That heavy silence, the air thick with the vaccuum tension of an impending disaster.
Entertainment wrestling was likely something Shin had never seen before, and Gonad wasn't a paid actor, yet even then it wouldn't be too difficult to visualize what was going to come next. Shin had enough time to try a quick thing or two, but if he got lifted he'd be at ground zero. One of Gonad's kicks was akin to a low speed motorcycle crash. If he applied the strength of his entire body in conjunction with his and Shin's combined mass, the next attack would surely do justice to its name.

It was a fallacy to assume Gonad was unarmed. When one uses the very bodies of their enemies as kinetic weapons, there is always another weapon within reach, each a hundred times greater in weight than a mere blade, exponentially more devastating than the blow of any club, and as difficult to evade as tenfold bear traps beneath a blanket of snow.

Peach Feast In The Jade Emperor's Palace

@LeeRoy

Gonad hadn't forgotten the last time he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. Worthy foes were treasured in memories past. Here was another gem for the collection. The barbarian was familiar with the concept of the one inch punch, and could perform similar attacks, but he'd never met anyone else who had devoted as much or more effort into mastering it. He'd thought he was in a position of relative safety, only to be struck when he least expected it. Gonad skidded back, bracing his left foot behind himself this time, single eye bulging, two fresh, bright red marred knuckle imprints left by Shin's fists. He'd been forced to cede ground twice now.

From Shin's perspective, he may have fancied himself in a position of safety as well. He'd connected flush with his blow, the perfection of his Kung Fu reverberating throughout Gonad's body like a ripple. It would have stopped any other martial artist cold. This was something very different. Even as he closed in and landed his attack, Gonad had been in the process of showing Shin his own cultivation. During that second of pause where Shin had concentrated his power, Gonad's left hand moved with a venomous flicker, the thumb that had been pressed against Shin's forehead jagging down to plunge into his empty socket. Should the point blank gouge succeed, a fearsome pressure would immediately overtake Shin's orbital bone as it was actually pinched between the barbarian's finger and thumb, the hulking warrior finding a grip right off the bat as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and for him it was.
One trained as a berserker gives no quarter to pain, an ultimate opportunist who siezes the moments between life and death.

Shin would be jerked after Gonad, the hairy, thick fingers not budging despite the two-fisted blow having landed at roughly the same time. Gonad's toenails scritched across the damp floor, and before he even finished sliding he'd seek to take advantage of Shin being potentially pulled off balance. Gonad's rear foot left the floor as he spun on the ball of his lead right foot. The fast, low roundhouse glided in on a cushion of silence. All the weight of that silence was in dynamite. If it struck it'd bowl through Shin's shins and, in conjunction with his skull being hauled to his right, would launch his body into a searing mid-air cartwheel that'd culminate in his head hitting the ground before his feet did, and his feet winding up where his head had been.

Whether or not the traffic accident of a kick landed, Gonad's stomach churned shortly after the exchange, a hot swell rising up too fast to stop. A cocktail of everything Gonad had consumed in the last few hours flooded his cheeks and spewed out from between his lips, a partially digested stew of bile slapping the ground. He'd been hit in both the chest and the belly, and now that a few moments had passed, the full effects of the two fisted blow had begun to manifest. The impact had been more than he'd expected, just like everything else involving this strange, Eastern warrior. He wondered if this was on purpose. One blow voids the lungs of air, as the other threatens further suffocation by voiding the stomach. An enemy gasping for oxygen, then choking on vomit. A two-fisted attack with a two-fold threat.

PARALYSED- BloodyRed Vs. Doc

@BloodyRed

No rush

Peach Feast In The Jade Emperor's Palace

@LeeRoy

Gonad's mouth wrinkled into a small 'O' of surprise as his pee was slapped away, Shin's hands a whirring blur. It didn't take a speedometer for Gonad to see right off the bat that he was at a disadvantage in speed.

~Bwah! Fast then he be, but no more than ten stone should Shin Man weigh...~

Having roughly estimated Shin's casual speed, Gonad extended his left arm in a 'thumbs up' as his opponent hopped in, intending to plant his thumb against Shin's forehead to give him a light push backwards as his attack commenced, thus forcing him out to Gonad's arm's reach and preemptively locking him out of his effective ra-!?

Gonad, to his utter bafflement, was forced backwards partway through his thought, rocking onto his right heel.

~Bwuh!? Heavy!?!?~

Shin's mass, although still far less than Gonad's, had been substantially more than Gonad had expected of a man of such stature. If Gonad succeeded in pressing his thumb against Shin's forehead, instead of casually holding back Shin he himself was pushed back by his own counter. He'd been in a neutral stance as well, neither foot in front nor in back, thus ill preparing him to accommodate the momentum of Shin. The double fisted blow came short of hitting the barbarian, but Shin's message came through quite clearly; weight classes weren't going to decide this fight so simply.
Gonad knew as soon as he was off-balance that he'd have to recover immediately to afford no further openings. He'd be wary of his opponent attempting to grab or strike his left arm as he staggered back a step. With barely contained excitement Gonad decided to assume that his opponent had even more speed than initially showcased, just to be safe, and also reevaluated his initial assumption of Shin's weight. Ten stone? More like fifteen or sixteen at the very least.

At the highest level of martial arts, one no longer seeks merely to 'win'. The ultimate goal of the warrior is to achieve victory at any cost in any situation, but a martial artist strives for self improvement, eternally seeking their 'perfect self'. Gonad had always fought with both ideals in mind, but as he matured he'd learned which was more important. For the weak, mercy affords enemies more chances to slay them. For the strong, mercy means your foe can challenge you another day and help you achieve greater heights. The fear of death only serves as cheap motivation for those who don't have the will to risk their lives and learn from the same foe twice.
The berserker arts were designed purely for warfare. A supreme offensive effort that applied every last asset the body could offer to the sole purpose of slaying all enemies in an instant, with no regard for one's own safety. The last time Gonad had needed to go berserk had been against a shapeshifting demon that could take the strength of those it had eaten. He could distinctly feel a similar threat level from this little Asian half his size.
Gonad would have loved to go all out every time he fought, but the martial arts are not about appeasing one's nature. It is discipline, understanding, and growth. In war, one should pull an opponent up by the roots. In martial arts, you prune your opponent and your opponent prunes you. Gonad sought not to remove weeds, but to nurture fruit.

Could this foe, designated by the gods, rekindle Gonad's warrior's nature and make him fight without consideration for the life of his opponent?