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Fighting a mage



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violent_anger

Think smaller, more legs.
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Non continuity.
Otherwise, regular rules.
Gotta see how I handle fighting magic.
No one who can destroy the planet or things like that. Destroying a continent is fine though.













Name: Edward Cras
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Appearance: A black haired, white skin man, who stands 6 feet tall. His face is ordinary, he would blend in well with a crowd of random people. The only odd thing about his face are that his eyes are pink, of the same shade as Kirby. He's somewhat bulky, not as much as a weightlifter, but more like a Heavy Weight Boxer. His hair is unkept, and he often fights while he still has his bedhead. He usually wears black pants and a white collared shirt. He has a bag slung over his back that carries two heavy bars of iron.

Personality: He's an egotistical bastard on occasion, and hates being wrong, but he will admit that he was...eventually . He makes alot of jokes, usually bad puns. Everyone thinks that he's a cunning and cutthroat bastard, but he doesn't think of himself as such. He likes doing the right thing, but also what benefits himself, sometimes he picks a balance, while other times, he picks one over the other.

Bio: He was an 8 year old boy in the apartment of a big city who had just watched a marathon of Kirby. He heard that there was going to be a shooting star that night so he went up to the roof of his apartment to see if it was visible through the layer of pollution. This shooting star was bright enough to be seen, which you couldn't say often. He wished upon the star "Please give me awesome powers like Kirby." Amazingly, this seemed to be the right thing to say. He blinked, and then was in some mysterious lace that was all white, kind of like the training place that Goku went to. A booming and jolly voice then said to him from nowhere " HAHAHA, so you want powers like Kirby, you say? Well, who am I to deny you? When you become 15 years of age, your eyes will become the color of Kirby, so that all who look at you may know who you are. At the same time, you will receive the powers I promised you. Don't worry about losing control and killing yourself, like so many bad TV characters do." And with that, Edward was back on the roof of his apartment. He told his parents about it, and that it really happened. But unlike the million other 8 year olds who say that, his experience really did happen.
So then, seven days after his 15th birthday, this shooting-star-Kirby-god experience was all but forgotten. Then when he woke up the next morning and looked in the mirror, to see that his eyes were bright pink. Hilarity ensued as he tried to figure out what happened. He blinked like crazy, and it was only after a dozen rapid blinks that he realized he is back at that Goku-training place. The voice booms "HAHAHAHAHA, oh man,that was great, I should have caught that on video... Anyways, there you go, an awesome power just like Kirby's. walk around town barefoot, and you'll see what it is. Oh, and because I'm a nice guy, and I know you'll be carrying heavy stuff, I'll leave you a bag that won't break."
And with this reminder, he remembered what happened when he was 8. The bag was all but forgotten in his excitement. He did what the disembodied voice told him to do, and walked around town barefoot. Soon he realized that his feet were making a weird sound, not like the usual sound of him walking. He looked at his feet and realized that the pavement was sticking to he feet. He pressed his hand on it, and the pavement melted onto his hand. He laid face-down on the concrete, and saw that it was sticking to his entire body. It looked alot like the armor of medieval knights. He found a metal pipe, and pushed it against his chest. It melted on to him even through the pavement-armor he already had. He went in his room, and got the bag the voice gave him, and ran off adventuring. He was two years ahead of his class anyways, so he didn't mind dropping out of school.
Yet for many months now, he had been hearing by word-of-mouth of other heroes like himself. Some of the stories told of men that could assault someone's mind and meld it with his own, but because this man was insane, the other man would also go completely insane. The answer came to him in a dream, a dream of his childhood. He was sitting in front of his TV, watching Kirby, when it said 'Don't miss the X-Men, up next.' Over and over again, it just kept saying The X-Men....The X-Men....The X-Men....The X-Men. That was when he realized the solution. Melding a powerful natural magnet and a piece of iron to himself, he then released it all in a mixed up slab of magnets and metal. Thus, he set up work in the forge that he happened to have in the apartment he lived in. Slowly, the iron took the shape of a box that would fit nicely over his head, and he knew that he would no longer be troubled by insane men who could assault someone's mind.
(Story about eyes in progress)

Weapons: He has a bag that can carry things of any weight without breaking, as long as it fits in the bag.
In it, he carries two heavy iron bars, each four feet long, that he either uses with his powers, or just swings around as clubs.

Ability:
By locking eyes with anyone, he can see all their fears and regrets, and make them real. He can create spiders, demons, fire, dead relatives, or any other such things. They can act of their own free will if he wills it, but they are subject to the Three Laws (See I. Robot.). Should Cras be knocked unconscious, these creatures of fear will disappear after one last minute. They will disappear regardless after 15 minutes, but they'll be recreated instantly if Cras locks eyes again.
He can meld anything onto himself like a plate of armor, so long as it isn't living. Dead skin, nails, hair, most of teeth, and similar things are fair game. He is also able to absorb things such as air, fire, water, energy, and light. Absorbing light makes him glow, much like his glow-in-the-dark materials. Whatever he absorbs becomes and extension of himself, and he can absorb things on top of that. These things can stay on him by themselves. He has nearly full control over what he absorbs, but some things are automatic, such as the armor falling off if it becomes to dangerous for him. The armor falls off in four different ways: it falls off him; it falls off him and then assumes it's regular shape; it falls off him as just a random slab of stuff; Or it just disappears into air. If possible, it becomes breathable air, but otherwise, it becomes Hydrogen and Helium. His armor can't be directly affected by magic, I.E. ripped apart at the seams, thrown into another plane, magnetic powers, and so on.
He also has an iron box in his bag, with magnets as practically part of the iron. By putting it on his head and making it a helmet, the magnets keep all mental abilities from affecting him.
One of the most common things that he does is to meld the iron bars onto his fist, making 3 feet long iron knuckles.
Because of often training while covered in heavy metals, he has an incredible strength, sacrificing none of his grace and agility, as well as the ability to jump 10 feet up in the air. In other words, he could do gymnastics while covered in hundreds of pounds of armor.
His fighting in almost entirely self-taught, punching waterfalls and 300 year-old trees and thing like that.
 

violent_anger

Think smaller, more legs.
Joined
Dec 28, 2005
Messages
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Location
Blowing up The storm's around. In a silence Have a
OOC: Time is fighting me with...a song, close enough. We're fighting in a ruined roman city, a few dozen tall, but dusty and cracking, buildings. Aqueduct that runs through the city still carries water.



IC:

Reaching into his ice filled cooler, Cras pulled out a frosty beer bottle. If only I had the daughter of a rich man next to me, this would be perfect. Reclining in his makeshift throne, which was really a large rock in the shape of an armchair with a few pillows and cushions, he marveled at this city. The great ones always last. A smile was on his lips as he remembered his trips to Egypt and China. The birds were singing their little songs for this human and the city's rats.
 

Joy

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It seemed as if it appeared form no where, from a white portal into the envoronment aruond it. At this point, no one would be able to tell that being's facial feautures, but that soon passed, and you could see his dark brown eyes, his pale wihte skin, ebony hair, and his wild make up.

It looked like a member from ACDC. Actually, it was a member of ACDC. The lead singer, in fact, Brian Johnson had just appeared in an ancient city. Of course, it wasn't him, but it looked like him, alright.

-Cue Shook Me All Night Long-

It walked forward, in the same exact timing of the beat of it's song. It's body twisting in circles to keep up with the music, until it finally reached Cras. (4 seconds in. Stops dancing not at the bass drum but at the guitarish sounding note)

It kept it's timing with the bass in it's song, keeping light on it's feet in order to keep fighting. But, it followed the guitar (it's the sound other than the bass drum, same kind of sound as earlier), and quickly spun in the air flailing it's legs at a speed in which it would hit his opponent at all three notes, bobbing it's head to the bass drum as it went along.

Upon landing, it jumped higher into the air, following the slowness of the song at hand, until it ifnally turned in the air and came crashing down, it's fists folded into what seemed like a wrecking ball, aiming directly at his opponent's skull, wherever it may be.

(This note would be the distinct guitarish sound that is made right before (like, right before) the twelve secodn mark).
 

violent_anger

Think smaller, more legs.
Joined
Dec 28, 2005
Messages
6,465
Age
31
Location
Blowing up The storm's around. In a silence Have a
IC:

A white portal and a man suddenly appearing. It reminded Cras of when he met that angel, now known to be Daylight. I had hoped for a serving wench, but I guess I have to settle for a jester. The man, as Cras could now see, was bobbing his head, like a normal person with an iPod, or an idiot without one. "Come to hear the birds?" Cras asked this man after a sip of beer, yet he remained silent while continuing his little hopping.

Suddenly he leapt forward, flailing his legs at Cras' skull. With a slight groan, he dropped his bottle of beer. It shattered around his throne, beer flowing all around in a little puddle. With a spark of hydrogen, Cras ignited it all. Reaching into the flames with his right hand, he flung it up at the assailant. But this couldn't happen fast enough to stop the attack, of course. His little sack was fortunately laying to the left of him. Cras reached in and grabbed out one of his iron bars, then with an diagonal up-left swing, he tried to smash his legs.

All three attacks, two of them his own, had missed, and this man was on firm ground once again. I should stand up. Cras had just enough time to put on his helmet. Once more the stranger continued his acrobatics, jumping towards him with both hands together to tomahawk Cras. It was plain to see this was an attack that could smash normal men into pulp. Cras still had his hand in the alcohol fire, building up more and more flames. Jumping forward himself, Cras caught his enemy's two balled fists in his own flame-wrought one. At the same time, he stabbed from the left with the iron bar at the stranger's chin.
 
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