Avatar of Metal Tortoise
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    1. Metal Tortoise 9 yrs ago
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Bio

I like RP and RP Accessories.

Not new to RP, new to RPGuild, from canons to OC's, I like it all. I like to fight, I like to plan, I like to random, and I like people in general.

Shoot me a PM at anytime, I'm quick to respond and I like to think I'm a swell fellow when not angry.

Most Recent Posts

Steer:

{Fancy Pickings.}

He wasn’t falling for it one bit. Mind you he didn’t know the ins and outs of the man before him, but the fancy outlook, voice, and somewhat meek posturing did nothing for Steer. Heck, he wasn’t too far off the mark, being an inch or so shorter than the man before him and chubbier. He listened, brow quirked, blue eyes shutting, head tilting down. That was a nifty offer, truth be told but…

“You’re almost right, pretty close, I prefer my fatty foods and beer though. Whoever wins buy next round, mister?”

Maybe, maybe not. A few more motions were taken by Steer, loosening up a bit for the hey of it. Not always needed, but something he did none the less. He stopped, eyed Kentucky again and nodded, straightening up.

“I’ll do my best in either regards, you got a name stranger?”

Steer spoke, but while he spoke he zoomed in on Kentucky. Obvious theories of light ploys to lure him in were prevalent in Steers mind, but simplicity was usually the finest way to start. If he got close enough, make no mistake, he wasn’t expecting to, Kentucky seemed to have a bit of a reach on him, or so he assumed given the slight taller stature but if he was? If his strangely nonchalant even paced footwork, which didn’t show any hint of real organization or ‘stance’, was left without harassment Steer would set his right foot into the ground when he took a step, when he was close enough, and while he was lifting his left foot he’d lash it out. The bottom was intended to roughly, quickly, smash right into the area connecting Kentuckies front foot to his ankle. A Relatively safe ploy, light deception tried, probably failed, and safe if he missed. Might be long, might be quick night, but Steer was intent on getting his fun from it, fingers wiggling slightly in anticipation.
Posted up annnnddddd...Lets have some fun, eh? @Doc Doctor


Steer:

{Farmland Hands.}

Sometimes the most innocent or utilitarian things could be turned into dens of weird and often time insane practices. Case in point here; a rather successful farm turned into the madhouse now. The previous owner had long since moved on, but in a strangely well thought out plan, decided to lease the former farmlands to whoever could afford it. While this usually resulted in actual good honest working people who needed the land for what they did, the most prevalent was not something you’d expect. By the loud crys and the constant grunting and yelps and other sounds of pain and struggling, one need only to zoom in directly to a fenced square to see where the crowd gathered and all the commotion that followed with it. A letal metal bash took place as a body was hurled against a combo of metal meshing and shack-sheets and a cry of enjoyment was given.

It was for all intents and purposes a brawling square. Twenty five feet by thirty five feet, ‘ringed’ in by various assortments of ‘safe’ metal pieces, the grassy ground suiting as a ‘fighters’ mat while one or two tall but thin trees served as both posts or makeshift tactical weapons. It wasn’t the most legal thing, the coppers around frowned on it, but it was far in enough on the former farm-lands to not attract attention. Despite the dried blood stains all over the grass, very few bad injuries had occurred here, and someone who knew the simplest but most useful first-aid and ‘patch-up’ skills always seemed to be around. Betting wasn’t encouraged and frowned upon and despite the violent nature of the ‘Farm-House Rumble square’ as it was called, it was all in good sport, fun even, for participants and those that were there to just watch!

Steer Cottonworth at first, was one of the watchers. He had come here as a little pit stop on a way to a job, heard good things and was surprised at the atmosphere…not to mentioned home cooked but also well-made booze and food. He’d watch three fights, always lifted what he was eating/drinking in approval and kept a warm smile about himself…but he had to admit, after his third beer, his whole body was somewhat wanting in the way only the Rumble-Square could provide. Messily and loudly, though no one heard it, Steer finished his third beer, just as the last fight ended and when one end of the Rumble-Square opened, he slid off his sandals, socks, and blue sweater and stepped right through it. Toes wiggled in the grass slightly, Steer rolled his head a little to pop sections of his neck.

“Steer, Steer Cottonworth, sir, From Norther East America-Ireland.”

Said to the man on a high chair on the right side of the square. A makeshift announcer and referee if you will.

Weeeellll our next round will include one mister Steer Cottonworth, a passer-buyer from out of town but a hunkering for the food and fighting! Any takers? Y’all know the rules by now; melee and if you got SOME of them ‘powers’ use them lightly or stuff!”

Steer rolled his shoulders and nodded. Hands clenched into and out of fists and he seemed to sway in a whimsical loose fashion. Go time!
Will do, I'll have it up in a bit.
Sweet. Do you want me to post up a topic and 'setting' or would you prefer to do so? If you want it ranked or judged by the way, I also dont mind.

I'll be using Steer Cottonworth, the character I mentioned.



Lets see if we can have some fun, ya? @Doc Doctor
You know Doc, despite whats transpired, I find what you are saying sincere, and so in a likewise sincere 'salvage' attempt between 'groups/realms' I will take up that 'challenge' you posted. I dunno if you wanna throw out the topic first, I'd be content with either.

I have a character in mind, one somewhat new and focused on melee, so I was thinking...Just that or perhaps low enhancements of characteristics. Either way, Hammer-Gauntlet thrown and I understand both if it is accepted or denied.
@Keileon

Yeah well, when a lazy ass lying piece of shit keeps bringing up your name and bullshitting, your tolerance goes down and you STOP giving two fucks.

It's ok, keep defending the Special Ed case one way or another, dumb fuck needs it.
"This is the Ultron situation all over again. A player didn't clearly see the scheduling system or didn't care for it (who knows) and then came in with that kind of build. The player wasn't banned from TZDL. He just can't compete at this event. I was promised, by him exclusively, that things were up to snuff and they weren't. So I held him accountable. Ultron didn't promise me anything, but he made an assumption and copy-pasted from a wiki without READING THE RULES and making the changes therein. Why should I be obliged at this point? Why should I have to sit down and craft his powers for him if he can't take the time to go "hmm I wonder if this entropy thing was a bit much."

Moebious/Devil obviously is MENTALLY impaired.

No DIPSHIT, I did Not TELL anyone to fucking 'make new powers' for me. I OFFERED to take off a few little things post your goddamn judges or 'participants' or whatever bullshit and what did I get? 'I cant be bothered to..dadada, I'mma just lalal around a fucking flower field because I'm an incompetent piece of shit'. You have this thing were apparently you talk about 'others nod reading the rules/scheduling/...what the fuck ever' and then you turn around and say 'Oh I cant be bothered to PM someone the problems I have...OR THIS ONE PERSON, WHEN I DID WITH ANYONE ELSE' because...I dont know why? Again, I read you fucking horse hockey but you didnt...believe me because of one thing (which I OFFERED, ON HERE, TO REMOVE) and...this 'power crafting' thing is...I dunno where that comes, again, I suspect your mentally impaired at this point and it's a wonder no one has called your horseshit out on you, other then whatever ass kissers you can accumulate.

Stop throwing me into your petty nonsensicle bullshit you goddamn twat.
One might call it an advantage or not, but little did Cee know of the intent of the Synthetic monster. Prepared, distanced, having things in play, the clones, and some sort of synthetic magic Ultron couldn’t completely understand…well, if the robot could, it would be squinting at this moment. Jet boots, both completely working and completely not sputtered and lowered the Synthetics frame down to the ground. Hands clenched into fists, gravity beam still actually on and ready to be used…suddenly turned off, of all things Ultron turned its back to the Android. Her very make disgusted the Synthetic, as most Androids did, because he partially knew what it possibly meant, but that was a story for another time. Maquina was welcome to attack with Ultrons back to her, but a brief glance would show the robots disposition as it just began to walk.

I concede.”

The metallic voice would be heard as the robot was intent on pacing forward to wherever until it could not be seen anymore. The platform was Beyond not ready for what it was currently facing. Had the arms been pulled with it, that might’ve change, but even so, a swift zoomed in look revealed the repairs Maquinas abilities were doing. Ultron had nothing to counter this, not with the current model of platform he had used, honestly a NEUTERED one at that, for this attempted engagement in group based combat…but perhaps another day.

The Day was Cees…For now, or perhaps half a second. Thoughts were taken into mind, and a slight backup program was installed in this platform, just in case. Click.
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