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 Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 8:03 am
No. I burned your instrument and threw your silly rock into a well.
HOHW HOHW HOHW HOHW, [Snorts in a stereotypical arrogant French accent,] HOHW HOHW HOHW HOHW!
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 9:39 am
The Haelstrom Fist No. I burned your instrument and threw your silly rock into a well.
HOHW HOHW HOHW HOHW, [Snorts in a stereotypical arrogant French accent,] HOHW HOHW HOHW HOHW! Selling one French [ Ignus Pata]...only dropped once! (Ba dump-Tish!)
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 11:21 am
Naive! Pata are French - [Ignus Pata IS MINE.]
Incidentally, Vintrict, you mind making like a 5 minute sketch, no color or detail needed, on this character?Nanto Suicho Ken Rei "Bzztztzt! UN-INNNNN-TERESTING!! Uninteresting."
Sitting on a park bench mid-center of the island, was a most bizarre sight. A ridiculously large figure hunched over with an awkward posture. At an absurd height of 7'3'', the presumably male figure was covered in countless, countless horizontally oriented stripes of dark-black cloth. His body still seemed quite muscular, though thin at the waist, forearms, and calves. However, if one thing was bizarre besides his immense height, it would have to be.. the fact none of his face was visible. Not a single bit of flesh, either.
A single black leather belt was strapped very tightly about the waistline. A pair of again black goggles were wrapped about his eyes, the lens themselves protruding an inch from the face whilst the securing straps made of both leather and what appeared to be metal bolts, finished tying together in the back beneath those bands of cloth. The lens themselves were blacker than the abyss, though there was strangely a faint illumination to them; the leather in junction between the lens and securing straps a fierce dark brown. Over his mouth, again extending from beneath those countless cloth strips, was a bright silver, metallic mask; an ornate dragon head sculpted into it with six holes at 0.5" diameter each, in two columns of three. If one looked carefully.. they could spot a webbing in these holes.
Over his boots were tungsten caps, covered in bulbs and strapped tighter to the body again via leather; lower, were boots, pure tungsten with flat bottoms that more resembled work boots than anything, save their composition.
"Here I come for a chance to show my fighter's spirit, and what do I find but tardiness and its punishments?!! I wanted to show what BRAVERY is!!" Besides the fact he was musing to himself, it was also of importance to mention his voice sounded synthesized, like a mechanized filter was added to an original male voice through that mouth-plate. It appeared that every so often, a little bit of static and a voicing error would occur; as suggested by the next line: "A SHi-NO-BI needs to hone their spirit or they are not as deadly as the night!!! HEAHAHAA, HEEEEEEHAHAHAAHAA!" Lurching forward farther, craning his neck to his left - he added: "My. I am so terribly bored."
Hearing a rustling, the man who indeed appeared like a perversion of a stereotypical shinobi's appearance from fairy-tales would spot a small, wounded hare trudging along the grass. Inhaling in a slight gasp, he then heard a screech.. of a red-tailed hawk above, swooping down for a quick and easily obtained meal - the dark brown feathers of the creature strewn about proudly.
"What?!! Even in nature, I cannot tolerate such injustice as to devour a wounded creature, winged GLUTtttTON!!!" Inching back just the slightest bit, still causing the bench which was bolted to a slab of cement buried in the ground to groan - the bizarre man suddenly lurched upward.. and upward.. and upward, as his immense height would suggest - 'til he was off the ground, the man of 302 pounds including his assorted weighty garb screeching in a way that made the bird, mid-air, falter.
However, returning to the earth was his upper body before lower in an unusually acrobatic manner. For his fists, you see, were covered with fully-encased tungsten gauntlets coated in onyx for show, a 2" thick hand-plate on each the same color and decoration as the fellow's face-mask. It was like the man was sitting forward in mid-air, 'cept.. his left arm, having a staggering 87" reach, was in an overhand position whilst the right arm was casually scratching his left shoulder.
Four holes lined the front of the hand-plate, running deep into wiring within the man's shrouded body; it was curious, as that massive tungsten fist crashed into the hawk with such rapid speed right upon the spine, that before it could hit the ground.. his mask/voice modulator cracked wildly in a hellish way, voice screaming through the area:
" LIVE IN FEAR!!!!"
(BOSH, BOSH, BOSH, BOSH!!!)
When finally that fist crushed the hawk straight into the dirt below, metal-covered knuckles grinding its corpse into the soil - it took a moment to remove said fist. Why?
The entire hawk was bubbling, long dead before it struck the ground. Apparently, those four holes procured quick bursts of boiled water and steam that had struck the bird, the water itself at a horrifying 156 degrees Celsius with an agent added to give it a yellow coloring in the air, creating hyper-heated steam that boiled into the bird's flesh. This caused quite a few points of the hawk's skin, feathers attached, to burst; blistering the bird all over and numbing it as the burns raged through it. The impact only helped, smashing it into an unsightly mess.
As he landed against the ground, dust kicking up everywhere from the man's rather intense weight and coating the roasted & crushed feathered predator, the hare in great fear hopped away into presumed safety - as the shrouded man sighed an exhale of relief. "My apologies, my feathered friend - but sometimes it is the majestic hunter who becomes the hunted when their actions transcend glory; I swear on the name of Saight O'Zen, you'll have my sincerest apologies in the afterlife!!"
Making what sounded like a quick sniff, in that heavily bent-over crouch, "sitting" on the balls of his feet at 3' tall, Saight began to whistle idly as though the events that transpired.. frankly didn't: "And we go marchin' on, and we go marchin' on, AND WE GO marchin' on until the battleeee~ is won! Won! Won! Victory is a lovely afterthought, but if it's the battle I seek, then I seek it to be won~ WON! WON! WON!"
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 4:36 pm
Maybe later, Fist.
Also, I've been done with my judgings, but the other two have suddenly disappeared.
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 4:39 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 9:16 am
Maybe you should just send out your own judgment then?
This is pretty ridiculous.
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The Female of the Species
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 12:09 pm
Give me ten minutes, and I'll be done.
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 12:14 pm
No, it's alright.
I apologize.
While I know I shouldn't bring my frustration into this place, it's been a tough week. Really, sorry. sweatdrop
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 3:50 pm
All aside, man these blue pajamas are comfier than s**t.
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 5:06 pm
The Haelstrom Fist All aside, man these blue pajamas are comfier than s**t. Is it just me or does this phrase change in value depending on what fetishes you have? Oo
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 6:06 pm
Nope. Regular 'ol sky-blue pajamas. Comfy as hell.
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Posted: Thu Oct 22, 2009 12:59 am
The Haelstrom Fist Nope. Regular 'ol sky-blue pajamas. Comfy as hell. Is it just me or does this phrase change in value depending on your alignment?
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Posted: Thu Oct 22, 2009 8:25 am
Sokoya Ramak Give me ten minutes, and I'll be done. Lies! One more to judge.
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