Avatar of YoshiSkittlez
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    1. YoshiSkittlez 12 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
You are the puzzle that I will never be able to solve and somehow, that's okay.
1 like
9 yrs ago
I'm sorry... I can't keep going like this. I need solidity. Figure out what you want and why... and then talk to me. I will always love you. And yes. even she knows that.
9 yrs ago
I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'll never understand or forgive myself. And if I die, so help me, I'll laugh at myself for being an idiot. There's one thing I do know and that is that I love you.
1 like
9 yrs ago
Kind of just came out to my family and Facebook that I'm getting a sex change... so yeah... dealing with that. Be back soon.
14 likes
10 yrs ago
You are my heart. You are my Once upon a time.

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Most Recent Posts

Hope everyone has a fantastic Easter!
So I'm just now realizing that it's been a while since I've posted anything on here. Shame on me! Well mostly this has to do with the fact that I've been busy moving into my new place and that means no internet, but now I've run out of excuses other than I'm very behind in homework. So... this is me just popping in to give everyone a quick "hello" and "how's it going?" So... Hello! How's it going?


"...and it is because of that and that alone that project T-95.3, on the market now known as the toaster, should be recalled."

Kate had made it to the meeting in one of the industrial buildings inside of District 4. It was a large building, filled to the brim with elected officials, scientists, and just about anyone else who had anything to do with robotics and the making. Sitting with a small squadron of her own classmates, Kate pulled her tablet into her closer as she continued to take notes. Her head was shaking, clearly disagreeing with what was being decided but she kept her opinion silent, instead putting her thoughts into a more digital form on the screen in front of her. This was merely something that she and her class had been invited to. If she had been graduated, perhaps she would have had some standing to have a voice in the matter, but she was still in school and prodigy or not, no one wanted to hear from a 'child.' Not that she would have spoken up anyway. Her social skills were completely incompetent; even she knew that. No, what she was, was facts and numbers. If anything, she would have hired someone to do the talking for her. She, unlike her cousin, was never one for the spotlight.

Her attention was quickly pulled as her instructor, who had been pacing back and forth behind the small group of students, approached her from behind and placed a hand on her shoulder. Kate noticeably flinched, halfly from being startled and the other half not quite used to physical contact. Tucking a stray strand of her brunette hair behind her ear, she quickly steeled her emotions to glance up at her professor with a look of question on her plain face.

"Are you ready?" she asked, though the instructor kept her head held high, eyes on the elected official currently speaking at the podium.

Kate's brows furrowed. What was once a very questioning look on her face intensifying, the creases folding in on her brow making her facial structure unrecognizable for a few moments.

"I'm... I'm sorry? Ready?" Kate asked, feeling her throat going suddenly dry.

This got her instructor's attention, as the older female looked down on Kate, a look of sympathy across her face.

"Oh... they didn't tell you?" her instructor asked, and Kate in response shook her head no. The instructor heaved out a great sigh, and rather than explain, pulled a pamphlet out of her pocket and placed it in front of Kate, smoothing out the wrinkles until the words 'Debate: Robotics Recall against Katherine Saunders. Who Knows What Is Best For Your Toaster?' became loud and clear on the thin paper. There was much written underneath; an entire article dedicated to the current problem they were facing with the new model and then another article about Kate herself and her previous experience with robotics. But this... it made no sense. Why would she be invited to something like this and not be told that she-

"I'm... speaking?" Kate asked, though it came out more of a statement than a question. Where was her whiskey now? Not only was she unprepared, she had never spoken to a mass this big before and she was absolutely not dressed for the occasion. Had she known, she would have thrown on a pant-suit rather than the casual button-up dress shirt, slacks and black pumps she had on now. She wanted to vomit - to disappear and claim she had been home sick all night and never came to the meeting in the first place. But reality quickly set in. This was no meeting, it was a debate - and she was the receiving end.

The person who had been speaking previously had closed their statement and another took the podium, making a few short remarks. Vaguely, Kate heard her name being mentioned over the loudspeaker and something about her experience within the field before her ears betrayed her and focused more on the thumping of her heart than what was being said. Her instructor gave her a quick squeeze on her shoulder in assurance, holding a quick nod.

"Kill them out there. I know you can do this. Win." was all her instructor said before wandering off to the opposite end of the student section.

She wasn't even sure how she got there, but the next thing Kate knew, she was in front of the podium, adjusting the microphone to her taller than normal height (given the extra few inches from her heels). The spotlights on her were practically blinding, but at least they kept her from being able to notice the sea of people sitting right before her. People that would be more important than her than she could ever even dream of. She cleared her throat awkwardly, then realizing that she had to say something... anything as the crowd seemed to grow somewhat impatient with her hushed murmurings. She could even faintly hear a comment of "She's just a student, after all..." That got Kate's jaw setting firmly. They were doubting her already. It was one thing for her to doubt herself, but when someone else was convinced that she couldn't do something, that's where she lost it.

"I disagree." Kate said into the microphone with more power and dignity than she even knew she possessed. It was, perhaps not the greatest way to start an introductory line as what was customary, but Kate didn't care. She was going to get straight to the point. "Project T-95.3 is showing no signs of hostility towards humanity by no means other than poor programming. The issue in which we are faced is only a slight malfunction that can be addressed simply by a software update transmitted via satellite. Not only is this method more effective, but it will also take less time than issuing a mass recall on the model leaving countless thousands without a reasonable product to provide their breakfast favorite."

This was all starting to sound so incredibly stupid. A debate over a toaster of all things! But these words were what had been written into her notes for a later grading. Never in a thousand years did she think she would have to address the entire public with it. The problem was, though, that people were getting hurt. Spontaneous explosions upon activation, house fires, short circuits. As simple as the bot may be, it was still a growing problem, and Kate found her passion there.

She could hear the cameras in the room rolling towards her direction, some even zooming in. She was even faintly aware that her live image was being shown upon a large screen behind her that took up most of the entire back wall; visible to those towards the back who were unable to see the real thing. Not only was this meeting being held live, but also broadcasted to other districts, somewhat as a sort of news update to those who where unable to make it to the meeting. She was about to go on when a man, sitting in one of the chairs that held a handful of scientists up on the stage with her, stood, and Kate, upon quick recognition, knew him to be the president of robotics within all of New Ancora. Under any other circumstance, Kate would have swooned upon meeting one of the most influential men in science. But now, as he stood to address her personally, she felt her blood turning into ice.

"My dear, your reasoning's, though admirable, are quite unjustifiable. What proof of the matter have you that will back up such a profound statement? Who is supposed to fund the research for this update and the computer means? I certainly won't be taking any money from my own pocket for a matter that is just as well taken care of by the people."

Kate could hear the camera's all panning back towards her, though she tried to ignore it, desperately trying to pretend that it was only her and this man who were holding a conversation; not the entire city.

"But the people are at no fault your Lordship." Kate interjected, earning a few murmurings among the people within the stands. It was this sort of 'meeting' that was best run-through by the high-council with their per-determined speech. The congregation was just expected to nod their heads and go with the decision that had already been made, but Kate had just enough about that, and was unafraid to voice her own opinion, to hell with formalities. If she was to speak without any prior knowledge, then she was going to make sure that it was her voice that was heard.

"Miss... Saunders..." the man said, a small bite of humor in his voice in the way he was addressing her, as though trying to adhere to a child in an effort to explain to them why Santa Claus wasn't real. "I shall then hand this matter over to you then. Come up with this 'update' you are so sure about by no later than tomorrow evening. If your efforts prove fruitless, then I have no choice but to place you under arrest for your severe lack of judgement within something held so important. Your degree is being held upon a full-ride scholarship. Prove to me that it is not a waste of my money. Case dismissed."

The room bellowed out in an uproar, not to mention a rather shocked looking expression on Kate's face. Her jaw hung open, her eyes wide and unbelieving of what the man who she had once declared a personal inspiration had just suggested.

"Your Lordship, that is not what I meant!" Kate shouted out, unable to hold herself any longer but her own words were drowned out by the mass of others shouting objections and decorations of their own. It was then that the security had breached into the room, taking crowd control into their own hands as they pushed people towards the exit, firing a couple warning shots to ensure that the mass understood that they meant business.

"Fucking diplomats..." Kate grumbled as she was quickly issued back outside.
Played by Ghost Shadow



"Scratch any cynic and you'll find a disappointed idealist."
George Carlin


<Name:/> Leonard Kenneth Monroe
<Nickname(s):/> Leon, Leo [Rarely Used]
<Gender:/> Male
<Age:/> 39

<Occupation:/> Private Investigator; Former Police Detective
<District:/> 8 [Originally D4 By Job Promotion]; Prefers to take Zone Beta cases. Born in District 16

<Height:/> 6'0"
<Weight:/> 190lbs [Augmentations add extra weight]

<Appearance:/>


<Clothing & Wardrobe:/>




<Personality:/>
A cynical and jaded loner who has witnessed many atrocities over the course of his life, Leon hides his true feelings and beliefs behind a weathered suit of callousness and insensitivity, guarding himself as a means of defense.

Keeping most people at an arm's length and preferring an air of mystery, Leon is loath to share his thoughts or opinions with others. He has very few friends and prefers to keep it that way, trusting a scant amount of people with information about his personal or private life. He treats new people with anything from guarded aloofness to outright hostility depending on the individual in question. Because of this distant attitude, most who do not know Leon see him as sinister in appearance and demeanor. Despite this and his former profession as a police detective, Leon is not soulless and is capable of feeling both sympathy and guilt for his actions. He has a razor sharp wit, often remarking on events with sarcasm. He seems to use this sense of humor as a sort of defense mechanism, reserving it for himself or for close associates - usually as a way of deflection.

He is capable of forming friendships in spite of his open cynicism, but nevertheless maintains a certain amount of distance in order to protect himself from potential harm. However, he is incredibly loyal and devoted to the friends he has, and is, as such, deeply affected by acts of betrayal.

Described as consumnate professional at best and a workaholic at worst, Leon is solely devoted to his profession, spending much of his time and efforts either investigating cases or honing his own skills to further increase his effectiveness. To Leon, his work as a private detective has become his identity, he helps solve cases not because he thinks it will make a difference - but because it is the right thing to do. Leon will often pass up or decline cases if he believes them do be morally or ethically unclear. Consequentially, he will sometimes accept jobs without commission simply because the job intrigues him or offers him a new challenge.

He is fervently determined by nature, executing his decisions with clear intentions and following through with any choice he makes. He pursues his goals with a borderline-obsessive ferocity, and does not take obstacles lightly. However, he is human enough to realize that no goal is important enough to directly hurt others in order to achieve.

This determination is bested only by his resourcefulness and willpower. Labeled as a born survivor, Leon possesses renowned instincts and survival skills that have allowed him to survive up to this point. He is highly perceptive, and never fully lets his guard down, making him all the more dangerous.

Leon possesses something of a weakness for heroics underneath his worn surface. He goes to great, sometimes even dangerous lengths to protect the poor and downtrodden. He performs random, unexpected acts of kindness that belie his overall demeanor, and is especially sympathetic towards children and the struggling families of Zone Beta.

However, as a consequence of this more sympathetic nature, Leon can be particularly vindictive towards those who abuse or manipulate those in poverty. He has a short, oftentimes explosive temper that will manifest itself when he is pushed past the point of anger or extreme annoyance. During such times he becomes incredibly intimidating, and can only be calmed down by a friend or close one's voice of reason.

His desire to do right in the world has been broken time and time again, but still he pushes on, no longer caring if his actions will directly influence the world or not. To him, even so much as one person helped makes a difference, and he will hold onto it as long as he can.

<Augmentations:/>

  • Cybernetic Arm: After a severe injury disabled the use of his right arm, surgeons had it replaced with a mechanical substitute from the shoulder down. Upon Leon's own request, the hand and wrist portion of the prosthetic possesses some degree of synthetic skin, allowing it to pass off as organic if the rest of the arm is covered. The augmented limb itself is constructed of advanced synthetic muscle fibers designed to move and contort exactly as a normal arm would. However, it possesses far greater strength, and can punch through metal and concrete, and crush bones with little effort. However, the prosthetic lacks durability, and can be rendered inoperable with enough damage. Similarly, in order to ensure the arm doesn't tear itself free from Leon's body, additional cyebrnetic reinforcements are placed near and around his shoulder, which includes several ribs.
  • Nano-Active Blood: As part of an experimental government program, Leon was given a full-body blood-transfusion, with his original blood removed and placed in cryogenic storage. What now flows through his body is an artificially-created nanomachine-comprised substitute that is designed to improve the blood's natural oxygen and nutrition transportation efficiency. The nanomachines within the blood itself boost Leon's regenerative capabilities and resistances, making him highly resistant, if not immune to disease and toxins; breaking down alcohol inside his system, preventing intoxication, filtering water after ingestion, and granting Leon a slightly-enhanced healing factor, allowing him to heal, in days, what would take other individuals weeks. It is unknown what the exact limit of this healing factor is, but it is known that the nanomachines actively repair nicotine damage in the lungs, preventing Leon from indulging in smoking.
  • Cybernetic Limb Actuator: Designed to enhance Leon's stamina and endurance, servos have been implanted in his joints, actuating each of his limbs [sans right arm] and increasing his limb strength and resilience. He can run faster, longer, and hit harder than the average person, though is by no means a superhuman.
  • Cybernetic Pain Inhibitor: As the name implies, the pain inhibitor is a small implant placed at the base of the neck. The implant does not remove the sensation of pain, but simply removes the lingering effects of it, while providing enough suppression to allow Leon to function regularly when injured. However, the pain inhibitor is incapable of treating injuries, and medical care will still be required to fully treat injuries.
  • Cybernetic Brain Augmenter: The final, and most experimental of Leon's augmentations, the cybernetic brain augmenter is designed to heighten his memory, thought processing, and and mental organization. It's installation grants Leon an eidetic memory, perfect sensory recollection, increased tactical efficiency and reaction time, and the ability to process information at an execrated speed. However, its continued presence causes chronic debilitating migraines, blurry, sometimes distorted vision, increased paranoia and agitation, and the early onset of mental illness. [USER: Leonard Monroe makes mention of audio-visual hallucinations following implant installation. AUTHENTICITY UNKNOWN]


<Skills & Abilities:/>
An experienced policeman and detective, Leon has an impressive set of skills that allow him to survive in even the harshest parts of Zone Beta. The most apparent of these skills is his combat prowess. A talented marksman, Leon is capable of making accurate shots from over fifty yards with a handgun, and rarely misses his intended target. He shows a certain amount of versatility with a wide-range of firearms, and can effectively wield most any gun he gets his hands on.

Similarly skilled in unarmed combat, Leon uses his natural resourcefulness and cunning when fighting, and will regularly use his environment around him as a means ot incapacitating or killing foes. He seems to prefer various kicks and grapples in battle, and is not above using dirty tactics as a means to win a melee.

Working as both a detective and a private investigator for the better part of his life, Leon has a quick, deductive mind and a natural cunning that makes him very good at what he does. He can scan an environment and quickly pick out details or odd particulars to help gain insight onto a clue. Likewise, he is very good at reading people's face and body language to determine if someone is lying - or if they pose a threat to him.

As a direct result of his time in Zone Beta, Leon has various connections into the seedier parts of New Ancora, and has collaborated with information brokers before to maintain up-to-date knowledge of the City's goings on.

Lastly, perhaps Leon's most prominent talent is his mechanical aptitude. Deft with his hands and surprisingly intelligent, Leon is capable of repairing and maintaining all varieties of technology, ranging from rudimentary household appliances to cybernetic limbs and robotic platforms. Tinkering is a hobby of his, and he can be found occasionally taking items apart only to put them back together simply to pass the time.

<Biography:/>
Leonard Kenneth Monroe was born to parents Calvin and Cynthia in an indiscriminate part of District 16. Growing up, Leon experienced varying amounts of financial need; ranging from only eating one-to-two meals a day to digging through dumpsters in search of something edible. His father, an embittered yet supportive man held work as a laborer and welder, but faced crippling alcoholism that drained their funds and threatened his job security. Though never physically abusive, and indeed doing his best to provide for his family, Calvin's weak will and continuing addiction drove a wedge between himself and his wife.

Leon didn't know his father well, and was instead fed oftentimes spiteful information from his mother. While loving in her own way, Cynthia's disdain of her own husband distracted her from the needs of her son, who soon closed himself off and grew more independent.

One particular incident that Leon recalled was his severely-inebriated father with a shotgun barrel in his mouth, begging his son to pull the trigger for him -- a request that Leon regrets not fulfilling to this day.

Growing up in Zone Beta, Leon saw firsthand the struggles of the common people, struggles that those in Zone Alpha were either unaware of...or simply didn't care. From that point on, he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't waste the life he was given...and would use it to help those in need.

He applied himself to his studies, and while not the most academically gifted student, showed a tenacity and drive that made him stand out in his own right. He displayed a particular amount of aptitude in the subjects of literature and religious education, and showed natural talent at amateur boxing and gymnastics.

During his years at school, Leon's father attempted to curb his drinking habit and turn his life around...but, lacking the willpower and strength to succeed, ended up relapsing, drinking himself into a comatose state while alone outside a bar. Calvin Monroe's stiff corpse was found the next morning by police officers, his death attributed to alcohol poisoning caused by the sudden binge-drinking.

Though devastated and disheartened, Leon didn't let the tragedy hold him back, and continued to push himself up until graduation, where he promptly entered the NAPD Academy to become a police officer.

His time at the academy was relatively normal. He showed great promise as an officer, and graduated within a year as a registered policeman.

During this time, Leon's mother began to show signs of early-onset Alzheimer's disease. While such a plight was easily treatable in the clinics of Zone Alpha, treatment options in Beta were far more sparse and expensive. Using whatever money he had left to try and pay for his mother's treatments, Leon soon fell into debt before even reaching 20 years old.

Forced to live in a sparse, two-room shack in the slums of 16 without so much as a whole bed to sleep on, Leon struggled desperately for weeks to stay on top of his various expenses...and was soon approached with an opportunity.

It was late evening on a Friday when he received a visitor: a man in a crisp, clean suit that no one could possibly afford in Beta. The man gave Leon a very special opportunity: 100 candidates were randomly chosen from a pool of federal employees, and would each undergo experimental invasive augmentation. Leon was initially wary at the proposal, but was assured the augmentations would be completely internal, and he would be paid a remarkably high monetary reward for his participation.

Finally agreeing to the terms, Leon was sent to Zone Alpha less than a week later, experiencing for the first time in his life the glory and beauty that the other side of Zone Alpha had to offer him. Sent to one of the finest hospitals in D3, Leon was soon prepped for surgery, and put under in the early morning hours.

His body drained completely of blood, Leon was rather extensively altered, with servos and actuators implanted in his joints, a pain inhibitor device attached to his cervical spine nerves, and a brain augmenter very dangerously implanted in his cerebrum. His body was completely refilled with an artificial blood substitute, while his original blood was frozen and put in storage for the present time.

Leon spent the next few days after surgery recovering, very quickly discovering that something was...different. On the outside nothing had changed, it seemed. But he felt so strange, so...artificial. Yet rejuvenated, strong.

Sent back to Zone Beta shortly recovering, Leon saw his own performance increasing exponentially. He was faster, more agile, better coordinated, healthier. His career bolstered as a result, and he regularly received transfers to higher and higher districts, eventually making it to Zone Alpha - as a permanent resident.

Having his mother moved to a better hospital, Leon was officially promoted to police detective, excelling in the position and earning a well-deserved name for himself. His transfers eventually landed him in District 4, where he remained stationed for some time; regularly taking cases in Zone Beta. During this time he entered a secret relationship with a female coworker, and not long thereafter lost his arm in a work-related accident [DETAILS REMOVED PER NEW ANCORA REGULATIONS].

Undisclosed events less than a year after led to Leon quitting the force in its entirety, becoming a self-employed private detective instead. He left his home life in District 4 and moved to District 8, hoping to make himself anew, though he still carries the heavy burdens of his past on his back.

<Other:/>

  • Voice Sample
  • Leon appears to be incredibly paranoid of most robots and artificial intelligence, though he never explains why. This trait appears to simply be a personality flaw as opposed to a trauma-induced fear.
  • Religiously, Leon identifies as Agnostic Theist.
  • Amusingly, Leon appears to be something of a big eater, regularly consuming meals that are labeled as "junk" or "unhealthy." However, this increased appetite is due to the excessive energy requirements of his various augmentations.
  • Due in part to his traumatic past and the circumstances regarding his augmentation, Leon is a functioning alcoholic. However, the nanomachines in his bloodstream prevent him from becoming intoxicated, thus forbidding him from self-destructing. At one point he implies to have had a nicotine addiction as well, though appears to have curbed the habit at this time.
  • While not asexual and somewhat flirtatious when in a good mood, Leon is generally fearful of romantic interaction or relationships, and is mistrustful of anyone attempting to get close to him unless they earn his confidence.
  • Leon is especially hesitant regarding children, though shows apparent skill at interacting with them. Where this fearfulness comes from is uncertain.



The lights of the District 13 rock club went out; every last one. The sudden change caused a few people to gasp in surprise, but before anyone had time to panic, a new set of lights came on. The new lights were colored and moving from side to side, making the innards of The Spit look more like a laser light-show. The regulars knew exactly what this meant, and the gasps of surprise suddenly turned into anticipating cheers. The regulars nudged the new-comers in waited, eager anticipation and the volume grew even louder when the music started up again. New music.

The first song that played was a real oldie, but had a good enough beat to keep the awaiting crowd cheering on as the double doors of the restricted section swung open. A lean man, standing at about 6’4” emerged through them, putting in his mouth guard and giving the crowd a small show with a few warm-up punches as he jogged to the cage. Through the music and cheers, the announcer could barely be heard, introducing the man simply as ‘Spike.’ The crowd seemed to like him enough, since the rest of the announcer’s words were completely shut out by the growing roars and screams as Spike removed his shirt and handed it off to a much shorter man that had followed him to the cage who then stayed just outside the cage by the corner that Spike had gone to.

Spike’s music was then abruptly cut off, which didn't look as though it had been a part of the initial plan as even the announcer himself didn't seem to know what was going on. The crowd eased into a revered quiet, waiting on bated breath and then erupted into a fit of cheers, twice as loud as before as the next song played; a song everyone would recognize to be Deon’s theme song he picked out personally every time he entered the arena.

He didn’t come out the double doors that Spike had as was expected, however. No, Deon was all about breaking the rules. The crowd began to split as Deon made his way from his hiding place in the back of the room, walking with arrogance in every step as he relished in the crowd’s cheers and women reaching out to touch him as he, in no particular hurry, made his way to the cage. Once he broke free from the crowd, he turned to face them and gave a couple air-pumps with his fist, getting a response from the crowd of deafening screams. He paused to chuckle to himself a bit and then made his way up and down the front row of the crowd, giving out high-fives and even stopped to hug a woman who nearly feinted from the shock.

He went up and down the line one more time, handing out more high-fives before ‘dancing’ himself into the ring to take up his corner of the cage. He didn’t even give Spike a second glance as Deon kept his eyes on the crowd and put his fingers between the buttons of his jean vest, ripping it open so that the buttons popped off from the force and into the crowd. He had removed his wife beater at some point, leaving his chest completely bare to the air-conditioned atmosphere of The Spit though he bore no shame in showing off his muscled body. If at all possible, the screams grew louder, though this time it was more of a female audience. Deon wadded up the now ruined piece of clothing and threw it out to a group of practically crying women through the bars, smirking as he watched them pull each other’s hair and flying their fists in an effort to get the shirt (and buttons) all to themselves.

Deon let out his own scream, filling the air with even more testosterone in an effort to amp up the crowd once more before he finally faced his opponent. He looked Spike over and smirked, jerking his head and body forward mocking a cobra in its strike and then couldn’t help but to chuckle at his own arrogance, the majority of the audience sharing his laugh. He raised both arms in the air, a symbol of victory, and took another look at the crowd, flashing everyone and no one a confident smile.

He turned his head back to his opponent once more, his mind becoming numb and now completely oblivious to everything that was happening outside of the ring. The announcer, having found himself, introduced Deon with great vigor, calling him by the stage name given to him a year ago, Darth. With the two males ready, he began the count and on count two, rather than three, Spike charged Deon, determined to get the first hit in. He swung a right hook but Deon saw it coming from a mile away and ducked his head down with a smile on his smug face. Spike tried again with a come-back left hook but Deon put up his arm as a barrier, however the moment Spike's left hook made contact, he swung his right arm into another right hook and clipped Deon's jaw straight-away with his fist. The smile never left Deon's face though as Spike continued throwing right and left hooks, and all Deon did was back up a few steps watching the man swing his arms like an angry gorilla, miles away from it's mark. Finally when Deon had enough playing around, he caught Spike's left elbow with his hand and used his foot to trip the taller man to the ground and forced him to land on his hands and knees. Deon's opposite hand swung around and held Spike by the back of the neck, keeping him in a position there.

"Nice hook." Deon taunted Spike and then let the grip on the back of Spike's neck go and backed away into the center of the ring where he had once been. Spike jumped up and charged Deon like an angry rhino and buried his head under Deon's arm, wrapping his arms around Deon's waist in an effort to lift him up and slam him down onto his back, but Deon's dense muscle gave him the advantage over the bigger guy and just had to push his body weight down onto Spike's bent-over back to collapse Spike down onto his chest on the mat. Deon pushed Spike's face into the mat even harder after that, rewarding the taller man's futile efforts with a simple bitch slap across the face that the crowd seemed to love.

Spike got back up though, and saw that one of the people in the crowd had their arms through the bars. It wasn't too much, they were just holding themselves there with a red solo cup half-full of some kind of liquid in it, but it was just what Spike needed. Instead of attacking Deon straight on again, he slapped the cup out of the man's hand, spraying Deon's face and chest with the warm beer and in the couple seconds that Deon couldn't see, began hooking right and left once more and beating the hell out of Deon's face.

Deon just backed up a few feet though and pointed at Spike, laughing and licking his lips in a moment of enjoying the alcoholic drink,

"Ahhhh..." He shook his head and smiled, giving him kudo's for playing dirty. "...that, that was a cheap one..." He went around the cage and slapped high-fives to those close enough to put their hands through. "...but you are good; you've got a good center of gravity." he commended. "But that old school boxing shit...that, that just doesn't fly around here...not with me. You gotta mix it up." Deon had circled back to Spike and just as he finished speaking, he ran the couple of feet towards Spike and like a football punter, brought back his right leg and kicked the weak point of Spike's knee on the side, nearly causing the tall man to fall back down.

"Stings right? I bet it does." Deon threw his fist forward and Spike brought up his hands to block, but that was only a distraction and Deon sent his leg kicking at Spike's leg once again, hitting the same spot but on the opposite side. Spike managed to keep his balance, but it was obvious that he was now favoring that leg and had to hop around a bit to keep from toppling over.

"Aww, your leg's all jacked up. Can't put any weight on it maybe?" Deon charged again, clotheslining Spike around his center which brought Spike down hard onto his back. Deon circled Spike as he tried to get up, and by the time he was able to get onto one knee, he noticed that Deon was standing straight above him and looking down on him.

"And now for the bad news... it's gotta end... with you looking like a bitch." Deon smiled broadly. Rage infused, Spike shot up onto his good leg, using the momentum to swing his arm around to get in a good shot but again, Deon saw it coming and grabbed Spike around the arm and twisted it, sending Spike flipping over Deon's arm and back onto the ground. Now like a turtle stuck on it's back, Deon hopped over to get on top of Spike and swung both arms, alternating punching out Spike's face in eerie similarity as Spike had done to him beforehand.

The crowd went wild and Deon got off of Spike, giving the man a chance to get back up.

"Oh c'mon. It's not over, get up! Get up!"

Spike tried to get up, but again Deon only gave him the chance to get onto his knees before Deon sent out a round-house kick straight into Spike's face sending him flying a good few feet, his mass connecting with the cage door and falling through, into the crowd in a bloody heap, knocked completely unconscious.

Deon turned back to his crowd and lifted his arms up high in victory, shouting and screaming with them, reveling in both the glory and the knowledge that there would be no round two.
Sorry guys! In the middle of moving and been out of a computer, power and Internet for a few days. I'll get up my post here in a few minutes since I have a moment.
I'll give @Dymion and @Ghost Shadow until Thursday to get their first posts up because come Friday I will be posting again to get this ball rolling.
It's the weekend and while for normal people that's a good thing, it usually means for me that I'm busy as hell at work lol sorry.
@lydyn sorry you kind of caught us at a bad time. We are currently full (-points to status-) but feel free to check back in a few weeks to see if that status has changed. Thank you for your interest.
Lol I was introduced to Flogging Molly YEARS ago. My friend and I used to sing their songs around school all the time and get really weird looks.

On the point of currency, I would say credits would fit just fine. God I've been playing too much Mass Effect lol.
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