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Storyline
An unnamed all-fighter tournament occurs every year, starting January 25th and ending when all but one contestants have been disqualified.

The stage is the Cirque du Monde, a transdimensional property anyone could enter, from any world, in any time. It is a former drug lab used to make a brand of LSD that led to one believing they were going to a circus; the proprietors were found out and executed.

An uninhabited property, it is the perfect place to host a anything-goes tournament. The rules are fair. Bring your own weapons, and duke it out.

You have been invited to the CDM to prove yourself against a bunch of other competitors. Great riches and infamy go to the winner, as the tournament is said to be hosted by the gods themselves. There’s even a possible internship under Gabriel himself, the best of all warriors.

[However, do bear in mind that the CDM, its owners, and the tournament is not responsible for any diseases, injuries, disabilities, etc.]

Do you wish to go past the point of no return?

Story copyright of Miss Lovely Rita.

Username: Miss Lovely Rita
Name: Guinness
Age: ?
Species: Mutated, Immortal Human
Homeworld: CDM [?]
Weapon: Anything lying around
Fighting Style: Throwing-forks-and-pencils mixed with madman-mauling
History: Guinness doesn’t know himself where or when he came into being. He just remembers being tethered to one of the braces in one of the many random cells, and being mutated.
Personality: Guinness is one of those people who need to be tethered by chains, in a thickly padded cell, sealed by five titanium locks. This curious fellow doesn’t kill, but he has an, err, ‘affection’ for any young ladies who come too close, and is often seen scavenging through food. He doesn’t count as a contestant, but he dislikes anyone who looks at him sacredly.
The arm in the straight jacket is actually fake-attached to seem as if he was harmless.
He has a charming voice and attitude, and will slink away unnoticed, but he will easily freak out if he thinks you’re threatening him; if threatened, and you’re female, regardless of appearance or species, he will attempt to rape you.
Appearance: Image copyright to me.

Username: Spaniard The Last Angel
Name: Adrian Vento
Age: Looks 18, is 1600
Species: Elemental Lycan
Homeworld: Sirius
Weapon: Extended claws, fangs and medium sized sword.
Fighting Style: Fast paced, close range.
History: Adrian is the last remaining decendant of an ancient royal lycan pack. She grew tired of her families traditions and attempts to find her a mate and left home in search of adventure. She stumbled across the knowledge of an unnamed tournament and decided to enter, even if it was a fight to the death... she has nothing else to lose.
Personality: Adrian keeps to herself most of the time but can be rather friendly. She is very protective of females and can easily become jealous of a male is taking away her attention.
Appearance: Adrian is about 5'3'' with short jet black hair that reaches her shoulders and carresses her like a lion's mane. Her skin is slightly tanned and she has slightly narrow ember eyes. She can be seen wearing a longsleeve black tunic and loose black pants. A brown leather belt hangs loosly from her waist and supports a silver medival sword. Her feet are bare and she will usually stand in a crouching position. Her wolf form is simply a jet black wolf with the same ember eyes that will ignite to a dark red when she is angry or using a large amount of energy.

Username:Steel Jay
Name:Rufus Mortimer
Age:30
Species:Human
Homeworld:Antebellum
Weapon:Two Rev-6 Mavrick Handcannons [[c] Steel]
Fighting Style:Fisticuffs boxing
History:Rufus is from an odd world, one much like earth in the victorian era, but advances in the steam engine had broughten a new era of airships and other oddities. Rufus, himself, is from England. Growing up in a over populated London, he quickly became interested in working on an airship. When he turned 18, he had gotten his chance, working on a freelance airship, usually taking work under the crown. Working as a low rank, the captain saw a small spark inside of Rufus, and began to teach him in "gentleman's fighting", Fisticuffs boxing. By the age of 25, he had become the assisstant to the captain. When he turned 28, pirates attacked, killing all on the ship but a handful of people on the ship. Rufus found the body of the man he once admired, brutally killed. Rufus heard about a certain tourament, with a heavy prize. Rufus plans to win the tourament to build an airship in hero's honor and protect the skys, and maybe make a little money on the side as a mercenary ship.
Personality:Rufus is not the only the one to sit down and have a nice cup of tea, but also the one to be manning the stage cannon on an airship, shouting profanities as he shot at the foe. Straight forward, hot on the trigger, but also, poetic, thoughtful, and sharp. Also fantsies the taste of tobacco from a pipe.
Appearance:Rufus Mortimer [[c] Gaia]

Username: dragonhealer
Name: Millie Goldsworthy
Age: 18
Species: Human
Home world: Hugeta, very much like earth, but the population was one third of what it is now.
Weapon: Glaive, and poison lip gloss.
Fighting Style: Fluid and smooth, it’s more like a dance than a fight. Unless she messes up then she goes in for the kiss of death.
History: Millie trained under a master blades-man for most of her life. She loves to fight, mostly because she has never lost. She joined the tournament because she needed the winnings to make her own weapons smithery.
Personality: sweet, easily exited, optimistic, energetic.
Appearance:millie

Username: Miss Lovely Rita
Name: ‘Parapaleejo’ [named by Guinness]
Age: Appears and mostly acts 12
Species: Poltergeist manipulating the body of a mannequin
Homeworld: Earth
Weapon: A series of small silver hammers and tiny, sharp objects that she keeps on her person
Fighting Style: Projectile/self defense
History: Parapaleejo was a Japanese schoolgirl who died in a tragic car accident, and then decided to inhabit the body of a 100-year-old mannequin used in Disneyworld puppet shows. She is the tournament’s receptionist, and a disciplinarian towards Guinness.
Sadly for the female participants in the tournament, they will never be romantically involved, so Guinness will continue to be a rapist.
Personality: Very sweet, kind and fair… but also bizarrely knowing. Rarely resorts to violence.
Appearance: She is a white ball-joint mannequin with black glass eyes and the mark of a little black upsidedown triangle beneath each eye. She has no insides besides plastic. She wears a sailor uniform with a big black ribbon to tie it, with a black shirt and Mary Janes. Her outfit also has diamond-checkered tights, blazer, and sailor hat.


Username: protoblues
Name: William Drake
Age: 884 (Would appear 24, but his armor makes it difficult to discern)
Species: Immortal-by-curse Human
Homeworld: Earth
Weapon: Scottish longsword, necromancy taught to him by his boss
Fighting Style: Wrap your hand around the hilt, wrap your enemy around the blade
History: William's tale begins in the year 1147, or around the start of the Second Crusade. He was working as a mercenary for Spain, and fighting alongside their troops in the Middle East. As he fought, one person in particular caught his interest. A knight, roughly his size, in a shabby suit of silver platemail, which he never seemed to take off. "It seems a shame to waste a perfectly good suit of armor on someone who won't even take care of it. I'll just wait until he perishes and take it off his corpse." William's oppurtunity came when a group of muslims bum-rushed the knight. Rather than intervene, he simply waited until the enemies overwhelmed the knight. He quickly felled the few foes that survived the skirmish, fueled by his greed, and stole the armor off of his fallen comrade. Not long after he put it on, he realized that he couldn't remove it. He also realized that he no longer felt hungry, thirsty, or weary. After the Second Crusade, William continued his mercenary work, and eventually went on to fight in the Third Crusade. By this time he realized that he did not age, in addition to the other "gifts" bestowed by the armor. He found his way onto Midgard completly by accident. When charging a group of enemy soldiers during the Third Crusade, he slashed at them with his sword. Instead of hacking through his enemies, he hacked through space and time, and just kept on charging. When he finally stopped, he was in Midgard. A few centuries have passed since then, and he still fights for whoever pays the most. His ultimate goal, however, is the lifeblood of the Messiah, which will grant him true immortality, and (he hopes) let him take his armor off for the first time in hundreds of years.
Personality: Disinterested in most forms of human interaction, unless it ends in some sort of payment.
Appearance: William stands about 5 feet 11 inches tall, and wears thick, heavy, silver platemail that covers almost every inch of his body. He wears a cross helm that makes his face near impossible to see, though if you could, you would see short, light brown hair, brown eyes, and veeeeeery pale skin (a result of being in his armor constantly). His armor is covered in scratches, dents, and rust, since he can't remove it, and therefore can't repair it. On the front of the cuirass is an engraving of a phoenix, which flashes different colors whenever he feels a strong emotion. He weilds a Scottish longsword, and wears a blood-red cape. Since the last two items are the only equipment he can take care of, he does his best to keep them in top condition.

Username: Thunder-king01
Name: Dimitri Sanatov
Age: 31
Species: Slovit
Homeworld: Reatheria
Weapon: SRV-1 multipurpose rifle,SRV-M1 Handgun, Standard Reatheria Combat knife
Fighting Style: Uses his rifle like a club/ uses his knife for melee combat
History: Reatheria is a post apoctoliptic world with mixes of advanced and old technology. Born into a world of violence where average life was a struggle for survival he quickly learned how too use weapons and how too fight in a traditional military style. He was part of a normadic group of people known as the Slovit Federation. A large group of people who's society is on par with Earth's Russians. Well on a supply raid of another groups caravan his father and brother were both killed. He heard of a tournement where many people from different worlds would come togeather too test who was the best fighter, as well fight for a huge prize. He left on his own and hopes too win the tournement and bring back the wealth too the Federation.
Personality: Kinda hard. He doesn't speak much with anyone and has what looks like russian tattoed on his left are translated the words say, actions not words, which is how he lives his life. He only speaks if he has something important too contribute. He never, takes off his mask or suit because he grew up in a nuclear wasteland he has a fear of radiation posioning.
Appearance:Something like this

Username: Miss Lovely Rita
Name: Viola Montblanc
Age: 22
Species: Immortal human
Homeworld: Midgard
Weapon: A parasol with several deadly attachments [like how a drill has drill bits], handkerchiefs that are made of sharp steel but resemble real ones, a regular-sized fan and several miniature ones, two purses [one clutch, one handbag] made of cement.
Fighting Style: Uses unexpected/concealed asskicking, with etiquette-lectures inside it.
History: The fourth daughter of the Montblanc family, she was mainly raised in private, as she was the most bodily fragile; she can die by violent means [as William used to], unlike her father, and though her family tries to find a cure for her odd malady, it has no funding. Therefore, she enters the tournament so she can be cured and become a ‘proper’ goddess.
Personality: She is the portrait of a Victorian lady [and the author has confessed to wanting to make a Victorian lady-rpc for quite some time]. Very fair in game and complexion, she will use several concealed weapons at a time, having been taught by her eldest sister’s husband how to fight. That brother-in-law is also the one who leads the tournament, but she knows that he has no intentions of making any exception rules.
Appearance: Though her dress, fan, and parasol change with the occasion [she has at least five of each], they all have the same basic look: a lacy 1875-style bustle dress tied with many silk ribbons on the front, in a light, pastel color, with a fan and parasol to match. She has her mother’s cold gray eyes, and her father’s elegantly-curling black hair that goes down her back, which she wears in light ringlets. On colder days, she wears a white muff made of fake fur, and a small white hat, which ties under her neck with a ribbon to match her dress.
She is quite beautiful and elegant, like her eldest sister, but her malady gives her more than enough problems, as she fears death [which is something odd in her family].

Username: zombamafoo
Name: Unpronounceable by your silly human tongues. However, you can call it Wadsworth.
Age: 4,729,928 Earth years
Species: Unknown (Chlorine-based atomic organism)
Homeworld: Earth-4 (Alternate Earth - 'humans' evolved from escaped Old One creations)
Weapon: Whatever it wants!
Fighting Style: Extremely varied - Vaguely proficient in all fighting styles, as long as it has seen it performed. When not copying someone it can fight (with minimal skill) with whatever it can think up.
History: Created as one of a species of (pseudo)biological weapons by beings known as the 'Old Ones' to their children races. Lived the first million-and-a-half years of its life working for the Gis'an cult (one of the four basic groups of Old Ones who were locked in a constant holy war that had lasted since the beginning of anyone's memory). Was locked in a isolation cell (for bad behavior) when the Old Ones disappeared. Spent another million-and-a-half studying chemistry, biology, and other sciences on the terminal in the cell before humans invented The Internet. Spent almost all its time since the Internets conception on it. May or may not have invented 'trolling'.
Personality: Driven somewhat insane by endless years of boredom compounded with its species' already violent nature, Wadsworth was perfect for the Internet. It speaks in an almost lolcatty accent when not mimicking someone's voice and often references memes. May or may not have dissociative identity disorder, as it can sometimes be heard carrying on conversations with itself. Switches spasmodically from cheery to morose to violent and back. Also, it isn't used to using human-esque mouths for speech, so coughs violently when it tries.
Appearance: None. When not copying someone, it takes the form of an Old One. Vaguely triangular body with three-fingered hands on the end of tenticular arms ('speaks' by rubbing fingers together, like a cricket). Long neck with a spherical head on the end. This neck is usually bent down so the head rests in front of the chest, but if it was to extend its neck (without stretching), it would reach about 7 feet.

Username:TheDarkness23

Name:Heratik

Age:2,509 years (demon stops him from aging, is kept 17)

Species:Human/Demon

Homeworld:Earth, Abyss

Weapon: Dark blasts and bolts, Demon form, Fear aura, and his own claws.

Fighting Style: Mostly close range clawed or morale draining attacks, can also use bolts or blasts of dark matter to attack from afar.

History: (The old history will be in my journal) For many, many years, Heratik has psychologically fought with a demon that has possesed him since he was 17. After the long conflict, he was finally able to take back control of his body, merging the conscious of the demon and himself. (pretty much they are one being now.) 100 years have passed since "The incident" (now its 2109), so heratik has taken to space travel. He acquired a ship from a robot named PRO-1 (for a price of course). To some he is considered to be a space pirate, stealing and killing to survive or for fun, but is still known to many as "The Demon Heratik".

Personality: Ever since his freedom, he has been much more joyful but still reclusive. When needed he will stay and chat with someone or even befriend them, although he still has sick and twisted thoughts, a wretched sense of humor and is still diagnosed with psychosis. There is always a side of him that is still enraged (the demon side) though.

Appearance: The human is about 5'11 and weighs 142 lbs. He wears a skin tight "meta-suit" (or whatever you call it) under his dark gray jacket. He has half-inch fingernails (clawed) and his eyes are bright orange, similar to the stripes on his jacket. The demon form is about 7'6 feet tall and weighs about 500 lbs. He is covered in bristle like spines and has slits for eyes. There are 2 pairs of long, sharp, webbed spider legs at his sides and small clawed forearms. His jaw is hallow, he has a pair of mandibles at the sides of them and there is a large, dark orb at the top of his head.

Heratik Human
Heratik Demon

Username: Thunder-king01
Name: Kogi Tsurugi
Age: 29
Species: Anija
Homeworld: omono ie
Weapon: Folding staff with a miniture scythe head at either end
Fighting Style: sentou houhou (Called ninjutsu on earth)
History: Omono ie is a world simliar too a technoligical advanced feudal japan. The Anija are a group of shadow worriers who dedicate their lives too doing as their master wishes. They use inhuman speed, agility and knowledge of the human anotemy too quickly kill any opponent. The Ani in their name refers too how each holds animal like apperences and traits. Kogi is a exceptional Anija and was selected from the top five on Anija to represent his world in a fighting tournement.
Personality: Kinda evasive, he'll avoid any personal questions that are asked, or if he cannot will lie which he has become very good at.
Appearance:Kogi Tsurugi

Username:Tir Malice
Name:Verrioth Thead
Age:247
Species:Half-Angel (Seraphim)
Homeworld:New Jerusalem
Weapon biggrin ual Katanas
Fighting Style:"Pheonix Wings" Discipline of the "Pheonix Dragon" style of Angelic Martial Arts(AMA). (Also learned the hand to hand discipline of "The Hellish Death")
History:Verrioth Thead was born to a member of the High Angelic Guard , by the name of Nicolous, and a member of the design team of New Jerusalem. New Jerusalem is a massive, highly advanced city, designed to hold 7 times the capacity of Earth, and capable of space and multidimensional travel. He has spent the majority of his life on this city as part of the city's Royal Guard.

Shortly after being born, Nicolous had Verrioth taken to the City of Heaven, to begin instruction and training. Being that Angels themselves are limited to male sex, and being immortal, there was no training school. All of the lessons were taught by members of the HAG (High Angelic Guard). There was, however, a dogma against Half Angels, called Niphilhiem, only Nicolous's closest friends, and those who do not believe the dogma taught him.

After his training was complete, Verrioth was already 53 years old. And was assigned to the NJRG. He soon became one of the top agents, successfully completing over 1,200 missions in the years that followed. He seeks now the opportunity to learn from, and test himself against, the best anywhere, and Gabriel, the Archangel, himself.
Personality:The he may be quiet, he is constantly learning about those around him. Because Angelic blood amplifies genetic traits, and the genius of his mother, he is capable of quickly processing data, and as such, is a master strategist. However, that falls over into his personal life as well, making him seem cold and calculating, and unable to relate well to others. He is often ostracized, so he does not know how to react when others show feelings.
He does, however, care about others, and is loath to let even one friend fall to the enemy.
Appearance: Raven black hair contrasts strongly with the bright gold of his eyes. His skin is pale, making his hair seem all the darker. He wears vestments of white, a long coat of white and with gold trim, over a blue vest with white trim. His pants are also white as well. All of his cloths, aside from his white t-shirt under his vest, are made of leather. He does have 6 angel wings, though he only exposes them while fighting, and the more emotional he gets, they change from the bright white, to a deep red.


Weaknesses: Is weak against demonic energies. Even though he is immortal, he still takes damage as a mortal, though it is not as severe. Taken enough damage he will pass into a coma while the damage heals. Fatal wounds will also put him into the coma. Most wounds heal any where from a day to a 3 month depending on the severity, for instance, while a deep gouge may take a few hours, and a severed finger a few days, a blasted heart, or a whole in his chest would likely take 2-3 months to heal. Also, using his own abilities (see below) drain him over time. Taken the fight lasts long enough, he may pass out from exhaustion.

Also, he can not use his abilities if his wings are withdrawn, or completely immobilized.

Strengths: Verrioth can use the movement of his wings to create energy, which he directs and changes with his hand to hand martial arts style, or his blades. Some of the energies need to be channeled through his body before he can use them, however, and this drains him physically. Also, he can use them as elemental attacks. Channeling the energy into his sword for instance, and applying friction by rubbing them together, or on the ground, he can use fire and heat based attacks, by swirling it around with his wings, he can create ice, and so on.

How it works: He generates the energy much like static, by moving his wings in certain ways, or by rubbing them against each other, he builds up energy stored in the feathers. His angelic heritage, however, allows his body to absorb this, and turn it into usable, and more mailable forms of energy. In unmodified form, the energy is electric based.

Username: bionicghost
Name: bionicghost
Age: 21002 (looks about 17-19
Species: Ghost
Homeworld: Taris System (Rebel Combine flagship)
Power: Ectoplasm
Ability: Quantic alchemy (altering matter on an atomical scale)
Weapons: Ectoplasmic energy blades and blasters.
Extra: Holoprojector, grants him a human apparience, but must be turned off during a battle. Ghostlike abilities: levitation, becoming invisible/intangible for small periods of time.
History: He was once a commander in the Rebel Combine faction. One day, while deployed to the planet Aldus, he and his army were caught in an ambush. His body had been so badly damaged that not even the cryogenic technology his race possessed could save him, and by the time his mecha’s recovery beacon was found, he was barely holding onto his life. Yet, in a solar system filled with hundred factions warring with each other for the resources of their planets, every man was of vital importance, and the time required to breed and train another commander could not be afforded.
So, making use of ancient, arcane technology, they ripped his soul out of his almost dead body, and placed it within a bionic one. And so, he was reborn, a robotic phantom, a bionicghost.
Personality: Funny, random, cool, likes to scare people, and has a deep respect for life, given that he has lost his own, but won't hesitate to kill, if necessary.
Appearance:

(Copywrite is Bionic's. Ignore doodle on his legs, his optics are bright green)

Username: Zombamafoo
Name: Ecchymos Corvix
Age: 426
Species: Lich
Homeworld: Albion
Weapon: Vicissitude (fleshcrafting), as well as other magic
Fighting Style: Vhozd actually does most of the fighting. Ecchymos just sits in the back and slings spells.
History: Ecchymos (then named Justinus) was the head Mage in the court of Brittania. His liege, King Karl Franz, fell ill with a Plague that was sweeping through the land at the time, and despite Justinus' magical prowess, there was nothing he, or anyone else for that matter, could do to save him. When he finally succumbed to the Plague, Justinus, who had been a good friend to Karl for many years, fell into a deep depression. How was it that, even with all his knowledge, he had failed to save his friend and liege? Justinus began searching through all the tomes in the Royal Libraries on how to become more powerful. After many years and dark rituals, Ecchymos, as he is now known, became infected with the very disease which felled his king. Knowing that he was going to die, he did a last minute ritual to become a lich. However, because The Plague was magical in nature, it ruined the ritual and now Ecchymos is constantly falling apart. Everything around him rots at an accelerated rate, and he must craft himself a new body when the old one is about to fall apart. Strangely, Vhozd (Ecchymos' Living Armour guardian, crafted from Ecchymos and Karl's flesh) is unaffected by this aura of rot, and he does not decompose.
Personality: Morbid, greedy for power and violent.
Appearance: Ecchymos and Vhozd

Username: LoudKid
Name: Jack Marks: Interpol Agent: Section 5, Agent #27
Age: 38
Species: Human [Nano-Augmented]
Homeworld: Earth [Alternate/Future]

Weapons: Viper Mk.3 Energy Pistol [equipped with LCD status/selection screens; able to fire standard plasma, Electric, Flame and Ice shots; includes charge shot function; Fingerprint/handchip ID safety feature (prevents use by anyone other than original user); laser sight; Aprox. 50-year battery length]
Cobra Mk.2 Beam Rifle [equipped with LCD status/selection screens; able to fire standard plasma shots; includes variable charge shot selection; Fingerprint/handchip ID safety feature; sight range up to 5 miles, 3 and 1/3 at night; night vision; laser sight; Aprox. 30-year battery length]
Japanese Infantry-Standard Beam Katana [2 and 1/2 foot long blade; Aprox. 10-year battery] Hand-Held Hyper-Dimensional Storage Device [Looks kind of like a Blackberry, used as a teleportation terminal for accessing his Beam Rifle and other non-lethal belongings]

Fighting Style: Varied. He is proficient with firearms, swords, and hand-to-hand combat; all skills which are aided by his nanites. They enhance his speed, strength, eyesight and stamina to a level higher than normally possible for humans. For example: He can easily lift 250 lbs, run about 17 mph, and has 20/5 vision.

History: Jack grew up with his single mother in the middle-class. He never knew his father, but from what he did know, he had been one of the US's best secret agents. He aspired to be like the father he never had, and as soon as he got out of high school, enlisted in the military. he went from the Army to the Marines, then the Airforce, and when they felt he was decorated enough, the US put him into the Interpol Agent program. As it had become standard procedure, when he was transferred, he also received his nano-augmentations. He worked with many other agents on missions all around the world, but for some reason, he always liked the ones in Japan better. He filed for a transfer, but didn't get the one he wanted. For the past 2 years he's been a single-man team for Section 5, hunting down the most dangerous criminals. On his most recent mission, he encountered some files pertaining to the tournament. It piqued his interest, and he filed for time off. This time, he got what he wanted.

Personality: Laid back, friendly; condescending to criminals; Mama's boy. He also loves lollipops, and is almost always sucking on one.

Appearance: [Jack Marks] Black jacket, pants and boots with a gunmetal grey dress shirt, not tucked in. Black belt with silver buckle, and a bright, blood-red tie. His hair is also jet black, and his eyes are hazel green with a slight silvery sheen, due to the nanites.

Username: Thunder-king01
Name: Alexander Stranick
Age: Looks: bout 37 actual age is unknown
Species: Looks human
Homeworld: Forgets
Weapon: The various gadgets and weapons he's made over the years
Fighting Style: Depends on which weapon
History: Alexander is a susscessful inventor who's life was going well tell several years ago when a millitia group from his home planet tried too get him too make them suoer weapons too destroy the current government. Alexander refused their request and this lead too the death of his wife Cassandra. After this Alex took on a heavy alchol addiction which lead too an accident which caused him too have amnesia. The only reason he can remember anything is because he kept a video log of everything he ever did within his robotic assistant who he named Cassey after his deseaced wife. Thought Cassy started out as a rather bad looking droid with a female's voice Alex was able too "Pretty her up" and make her look human, he never goes anywhere without his assistant/bodyguard. He's not actually a contestant, He's been too the tournement several times too try and sell a few things he's made
Personality: Alex still has a drinking addiction but he's a happy drunk not a raging one. Cassey is very human for a robot, she has all the emotions of a regular human as well as can make her own descesions.
Appearance: Alexander

Username: MugiwaraLee
Name: PRO-1 a.k.a Prototype Robotic Ordinance
Age: has been fully operational for 5 years
Species: Robot or Android to be exact
Homeworld: Future Earth Military Colonies
Weapon: Medium Arsenal
Fighting Style: Offensive long range tactics and defensive close quarters combat
History: Created by the military in 2092 but didn't become fully operational till some time after the turn of the century. After a few years fighting with armed forces PRO-1 realized that man will always find ways to justify fighting. He came to the conclusion that humans in their current state were obsolete. He then took it into his own metatallic hands to start a global revolution. The destruction of the human race and the reconstruction of a newer, better, more peacful and more robot controlled Earth. But he failed and being outnumbered by militants he used a teleporting device in his run down facility where he was created to escape. But thanks to a malfunction in the system he was sent to....ta da! Rapture! (just kidding) Fracture.
Personality: Sarcastic and genocidal (really doesn't like humans refers to them as meatbags)
Appearance: PRO-1 (Upper, credit to TheDarkness23)

PRO-1 (Lower)
Other: He has a voice like Auto from WALL-E. He was a joint project between the U.S., Germany, and Russia.

Username:: FroggerLogger
Name:: Mary Salthead McFingertin (Captain or Mary)
Age:: Between 30-40
Species:: Pirate
Homeworld:: The Sea or Sky ((think Peter Pan))
Weapon:: Main weapons are usually the creations she makes such as an alligator cannon or Mouse-Bola's. When she doesn't feel like using an animal she uses a metal bow-staff that is sharpened to a point at each end.
Fighting Style:: Long range.
History:: Mary was an orphan on the streets who got beat up a lot and ended up in a barrel of pickles on a ship when she regained consciousness some time later. The ship was Flying Dutchman. She was raised by the Captain of the ship and trained to be a Pirate; as she got older her mind slowly broke down and she stirred up mutiny. Only a few dozen shipmates took her side and now she's the Captain. Tired of only stealing gold and treasures she decided to steal animals; in a fevered attempt to create a "Mass-Army" she cross-bred animals and sometimes humans. With every failed experiment she uses them as alternative weapons; as the "weapons" lose their purpose she sends them down below to the Meat Masher where they are butchered then repackaged and sold along with modern day meat products. Now she is on the run from Animal Rights Activists and FBI.
Personality:: Mary is rather cocky; she believes what she wants and no one can make her do what she doesn't want to do. Her tactics usually have rebounds that give her the upper hand in any situation. She is very convincing and is a VERY good haggler; she gets her way either by flirting uncontrollably or stealing.
Appearance:: Gaia avatar explains the basic look. I'll update every now and then.

((**strums random powerchords in an effort to rock...**))

Adrian stepped upto the builing in which the tounament she looked forward to would be held. Taking one last breath from the outside she walked in, the door sealing shut as it closed behind her. Looking around, she had to flip the hair from her eyes to see the reception area better, but foung no one there. Shrugging away the thought, she went up to the desk and found a map of the building. She smelled the air but couldn't find anyone's scent. Locating the rooming quarters, Adrian quickly changed into her black wolf form, not wanting to site see at the moment and bypassed everything in the building, climbing up the stairs and finding the living quaters. On one of the doors was her name and so she entered, looking around to find a simple bed spread.

This place is so empty... maybe I'll just wait back down stairs...

In another blur, the furry black wolf dashed back downstairs, not wanting to touc anything she shouldn't and found herself back in the hallways as she lay on the cool floor, waiting for someone else to arrive.

((Bathtubs!!! *gasp* NO! I just took a bath))

Adrian heard a noise to her left and turned to see bathtubs being thrown at her.

"Ah! What the hell?!"

In a blur, she was gone, now on the other side of the area, her black snout peering over a desk to see who was throwing the objects. When she spoke, her mouth did not move, but her voice could still be heard.

"Uh... Hello?! C-can I help you find your... er... bathtub?"

Adrian the wolf backed away slowly, her tail between her legs.

"Uh, yeah, sure... uh... is there... anyone else here by chance?"

Adrian kept backing away and she sniffed the air, rekonizing the liquid in the vile to be nothing but holy water.

What is he going to do with that?! I'm a protector of man, not evil, holy water can't hurt me...

Taking a few more steps back, Adrian phased into her human form, her arms out as if to stop the creature.

"Um... look, I-I'm not trying to cause trouble... I'm just here for the tornament so if you don't mind uh... yeah..."

A trail of smoke entered the building, followed by an oddly dressed fellow. The path of smoke was cut off by the door closing. A black gloved hand reached up, and adjusted the monocle. The room looked, too quiet, too eerie. He contemplated drawing his firearm, but withdrew the thought. Unsure where to move, he looked at the map on the wall. A sudden distant sound, loud. A flash of metal, silver and copper, withdrew from inside the duster coat, putting his back again the wall. Unsure of what had happened. The hammer was pulled back. Rufus aimed his steps carefully, trying not to make the clicking noise on the linoleum floor. His gun at the ready.