In hindsight, it should have been obvious. The nearest functioning gas station was probably over a hundred miles away, and that bike was no doubt pretty darn close to empty. If it had been half full or more, the pressure created by the bullet impacting then the heat expanding might have been enough to rupture the tank (like shooting a half-full jug of milk, but with fire), but as it was the fireworks show left a great deal to be desired. "Frak."
The first bullet struck his chest as planned, slamming into his armor with enough force to drive him off his feet. The second bullet glanced off the armor on his leg as he fell, and he hit the ground rolling to his own right. 60 mph covers 100 meters pretty fast, and his left hand came back to grip the two-foot retracted staff and pull it free of its sheath as the motorcycle closed the distance. It began to extend as the motorcycle came parallel with him and he swept it toward the other man's knees in an attempt to both break the joints and remove the joyriding freak from his transportation.
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The wheelie was actually a good idea. Most (if not all) motorcycle gas tanks are on top, right behind the handlebars. Doing a wheelie would present the bottom of the bike to the shooter and force a bullet to go through a lot more metal to reach the tank. Or a big wheelie would, at least.
A bullet-timer then. Or possibly not, given how little attention he had been paying. Special sword? Perhaps. Either way, it became irrelevant as the man gunned his motorcycle and charged toward him. Bloodshot just smiled beneath his mask and made a single minor correction to his aim, then squeezed the trigger again. Impatient and cocky. A thrill-seeker and show-off. All four were things that could be used against him, and three of them just were.
His aim, oddly enough, had shifted down rather than up toward Mordem, and the shot rang out before the motorcycle had covered even 20 meters of distance, aimed directly at the vehicle's fuel tank. The armor piercing round would easily be capable of rupturing the comparatively flimsy metal (assuming a normal bike is in play), while the tracer portion would have no trouble igniting its contents. Preferably with some rather spectacular results due to the enclosed tank. Plenty of wonderful bits of shrapnel in addition to the fireball. Very fourth of july.
His aim, oddly enough, had shifted down rather than up toward Mordem, and the shot rang out before the motorcycle had covered even 20 meters of distance, aimed directly at the vehicle's fuel tank. The armor piercing round would easily be capable of rupturing the comparatively flimsy metal (assuming a normal bike is in play), while the tracer portion would have no trouble igniting its contents. Preferably with some rather spectacular results due to the enclosed tank. Plenty of wonderful bits of shrapnel in addition to the fireball. Very fourth of july.
Any suggestions on which tier would fit best? His capabilities at tiers 4 and 5 are listed in the box, but he also has armor enhancements that throw him firmly into tier 6, and I just haven't added them to his CS yet.
So this would pretty much be perfect for Bloodshot...
Godlike powers are no indication of a good fighter. I've seen (and faced) demigods who couldn't out-fight a human with a pistol and humans with pistols who can slaughter demigods. To put it bluntly, I find the notion that power levels are indicative of the quality of a fighter to be ludicrous at best. In my experience, the opposite is usually true. Poor fighters tend to try and compensate for their lack of skill by creating characters with huge levels of power in order to simply bulldoze the fighters that are better than themselves and possess less power (it rarely works). You can claim all the power you want, but if you have no clue how to use it effectively then it won't count for squat.
Also: please don't take this the wrong way and assume that I think all people with near-godlike characters are poor fighters, as I don't. I just find Seed's implication kind of insulting and had to get this off my chest. Carry on.
Also: please don't take this the wrong way and assume that I think all people with near-godlike characters are poor fighters, as I don't. I just find Seed's implication kind of insulting and had to get this off my chest. Carry on.
No problem whatsoever. Given how unbalanced this fight is stat-wise, I wouldn't mind if you had a bazooka strapped to the back of that motorcycle. Lol. Usually Bloodshot's the under-powered one. It'll be interesting fighting on the other end of the scale for a change.
"Impatient little twerp, ain't he?" Bloodshot said to himself as the echoes of the song faded into the ruined city around him. He stood leaning against the single remaining wall of a gas station not too far inside the town, out of sight of the bike and its rider. Apparently, the tanks underneath what used to be the stations pumps had managed to explode, taking half the building with them. Frak knows how that happened. All that was left now was a crater and the back wall of the station. "Well, I suppose it's time then."
He pushed off the wall and circled the crater, walking out into the main street. The other man would be able to see him now, clad all in black, the plates of his armor reflecting none of the light of the crimson sun. It was quite the contrast to his opponent's stark white garb. "Mordem... Maare." He enunciated each word clearly and separately, and loud enough for the other man to hear across the hundred or so meters that separated them. Not that there was any other noise to get in the way, now that he'd cut his music. "It really was very considerate of you to agree to meet me here." His voice came out of the mask with a distinct mechanical tone, and he turned to fully face the other man. "Most of my targets run and hide. Surround themselves with as many guards as they can get their hands on. It's annoying." He gripped a pistol with his right hand and pulled it free of its holster. "So thanks for that."
The pistol came up and his stance shifted in the same instant, knees bending in preparation for impending action and his torso twisting to push his right side forward and brace his shot. One hundred meters, one handed, with only fractions of a second to aim. Nearly impossible for an ordinary human, but for Bloodshot it was all but routine. If he wanted a challenge, he'd need a ricochet or two thrown in for starters, then... ooh, a ricochet. Now there's an idea... Could be fun. Then again... Nah. Let's just see what this guy's capable of first.
He squeezed the trigger as soon as the pistol lined up with the other man's heart and the report echoed through the deserted buildings as the armor piercing tracer round sped towards its target. After all, the bounty never said they wanted him alive.
He pushed off the wall and circled the crater, walking out into the main street. The other man would be able to see him now, clad all in black, the plates of his armor reflecting none of the light of the crimson sun. It was quite the contrast to his opponent's stark white garb. "Mordem... Maare." He enunciated each word clearly and separately, and loud enough for the other man to hear across the hundred or so meters that separated them. Not that there was any other noise to get in the way, now that he'd cut his music. "It really was very considerate of you to agree to meet me here." His voice came out of the mask with a distinct mechanical tone, and he turned to fully face the other man. "Most of my targets run and hide. Surround themselves with as many guards as they can get their hands on. It's annoying." He gripped a pistol with his right hand and pulled it free of its holster. "So thanks for that."
The pistol came up and his stance shifted in the same instant, knees bending in preparation for impending action and his torso twisting to push his right side forward and brace his shot. One hundred meters, one handed, with only fractions of a second to aim. Nearly impossible for an ordinary human, but for Bloodshot it was all but routine. If he wanted a challenge, he'd need a ricochet or two thrown in for starters, then... ooh, a ricochet. Now there's an idea... Could be fun. Then again... Nah. Let's just see what this guy's capable of first.
He squeezed the trigger as soon as the pistol lined up with the other man's heart and the report echoed through the deserted buildings as the armor piercing tracer round sped towards its target. After all, the bounty never said they wanted him alive.
If you're just looking to use him in general arena combat, this isn't the place for that. This is a persistent arena multiverse where all characters start at the same level and work their way up.
We start at level 4, and you'll need to submit the character in the multiverse character deposit to get approved. I'd give you a link, but I'm on my phone at the moment.
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