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BAT FIGHT; A game of skill and honor. LD vs LMG
Topic Started: Jun 8 2015, 07:23 PM (540 Views)
LMGVagabond
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Crispy, Creamy, and Quite Dreamy
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
It was a hot dusty day and nothing was going down. The two of them wanted to get out of this sleepy ole town. Something was in the air and they were feeling uptight. It was the right mood for a

BAT FIGHT

Rules:

  • It's anyone's game.
  • It is a test of wills.
  • It is totally even, anyone could win.
  • It is a gentleman's game.
  • No time limits.
  • Bats only.
  • Death Enabled.
This is a counter post showdown. First post is first come, first post.
Luis d'Duret
6.3.5.9.7.3.7
Level 1

Root Beer
Level 1

PLEASE UNMOD ME ;( ;(
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Midnight Rider
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The Super Cereal
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(This takes place after the epic mod tag, not waiting on CP to get started with this showdown)

It was dress rehearsal day for the theatre, they were getting excited for their big production of A Raisin in the Sun. Today was an all hands on deck situation as the Boneyard theatre needed finishing touches. Well it needed a baseball bat upside its face, but streamers and banners were going to have to do. There wasn't any way to effectively hide the warped flooring or cracks in the walls, but with enough bright distractions hopefully no one would pay too much attention to those defects. Gordon himself was spared this menial task as he was the understudy for the character Walter Lee Younger.

The funny part was that Gordon has no intention of ever signing up for the part, he had wondered in and tried to borrow a disguise. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but he was in a Gin based stupor after swiping a bottle from a blind monkey. Everyone just assumed he was part of the cast and Gordon wasn't about to correct them. If he revealed his secret the acting troupe wouldn't let him live in the crawlspace anymore. Plus being an understudy was the best job ever, you were a paid backup performer. He only had to work when the lead didn't want to act and that was never. So basically Gordon sat on his ass and ate off the food cart during all the plays. Later on when the cast would ask about the food he'd blame it on some drug addict that wondered in and left after getting his food fix.

Now Gordon was in his makeup chair applying liberal amounts of shoe polish and gluing down a short afro wig. Everything was set for a night of not working when the worst thing ever happened. A knock on the remains of his dressing room door heralded the messenger of doom. Gordon pivoted his chair to see Cindy, one of the production assistants. She was clutching her clipboard so tightly to her chest that Gordon knew something was up.

"So...." she hesitatingly began, "Mike is sick, we need you to fill in for this rehearsal."

The blow hit Gordon like a freight train of bricks, he was up, all this time he had spent not reading his lines and napping while pretending to soak in the production had led to this moment. He had to project confidence here, and be the lead the play needed, he had a story to tell, and he was going to sing it to the backrow. Turning back to his mirror, Gordon finished applying the shoe polish and inspected it for an even coat, it was as smooth and evenly distributed as it was like to get.

"This is my moment, I'm going to make you proud," Gordon said, "Also, don't want to put a lot on you but that drug addict came back and ate all of the potluck food for tonight. And he may have also pooped in the fake bathroom of the prop house."

"Again!?" the production assistant moaned.

"Hey we're going to get this bastard, he just keeps getting away just as you guys show up. One day though, one day he'll be too slow." Gordon reassured.

As the production assistant left Gordon took another look at himself in the mirror, a proud black man in a suit. Checking to make sure the PA was really gone, Gordon sighed and ran like a mofo out the door before anyone was the wiser. Ditching his suit jacket in a nearby dumpster he ran and ran until he found himself in the middle of a bat fight. The opponents were eyeing each other up, searching for a weakness. Gordon hadn't anticipated being in a bat fight, but he was here now and there wasn't any going back. Taking off his tie, Gordon wrapped it around his head as a bandana, this was a bat fight not a board room. As this was a battle of honor and diplomacy a nearby fighter tossed Gordon a bat, there wouldn't be any underhanded tricks here, just men beating each other with their wood.
Posted Image
Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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LMGVagabond
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Crispy, Creamy, and Quite Dreamy
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Little did his friends and family know, Whitney was a connoisseur of old theater. When he excused himself for a piss break, he would actually read excerpts from the works of his idol, Raymond Carver. "The Bath", his favorite of Carver's works, was short and sweet; like a chocolate truffle. It was always a welcome escape from the harsh realities of Boneyard life.

It was because of this secret life that Whitney had disguised himself to attend the Boneyard Players' performance of A Raisin in the Sun, by Lorraine Hansberry, another of his all-time favorites. A flowing blonde wig with dark, mirrored sunglasses. He had worn a tie of course, out of respect for the formal nature of the production. The story was an inspirational one, especially for this audience. There was much in common between Chicago's poverty-stricken south side and Bucket Town's forgotten neighbor, The Boneyard. It was a story that the youth needed to hear. Their parents had given up on pursuing a better life, but that didn't mean they had to as well.

Regretfully, Whitney had always seen himself as more of a Ruth. Rather content with his lot in life, never striving for better.....Ah, but now was not the time for self-analysis. The play was about to begin. Oh the opening lines, he had felt as if he had heard them a thousand times as he had whispered them to himself at the start of every new day. 'Not Scrambled.' He smiled gently to himself as the play he had cherished for so long was about to come to life before his very eyes.

"We regret to inform you all that Michael Norfleet, the man scheduled to play Walter Younger, contracted listeria after being ambushed by raiders on his way to the performance and will not be able to make it."

A collective groan swelled in the audience, with Whitney's voice contributing more than its share.

"In his place will be the novice Gordon Stone."

Ah, what a thrill. While some may have seen disappointment, Whitney only saw promise. A newcomer on the stage was a beautiful thing. Their very psyche forged in the fires of public art, before the gaze of tens of others whom decide their very futures in the craft. The actors were more than simple performers. They were clumps of living clay ready to be sculpted by the audience's response. Every cut, every smoothing, every fine detail meticulously added by the will of their hearts. They were gods, dictating the creation of-

"We apologize for the inconvenience, but the play has been delayed until further notice. Please contact the Boneyard Players if you happen to see Gordon Stone, who is currently in blackface."

Whitney swelled with rage. The sanctity of raw performance tarnished by a careless lackwit. Mrs. Hansberry would be rolling in her grave if she bore witness to the man's cruel act. This mustn't—nay, would not go unpunished. Whitney would find the perpetrator and cast upon him due justice. Not for his own desires alone, but for the sake of culture. By God's grace, Whitney would see the wrongs righted, damn the consequence. He would have his day.

With noble art comes noble passion, and with noble passion, men are capable of great things. That among these are bat fights, one of which was occurring right next to the Boneyard playhouse. While his heart sought vengeance, his mind sought sharpening, so he observed the noble game going on before him. The combatants all seemed very worthy of praise especially....Walter Younger. The rogue was in his sight, and he would be pressed to escape it. Grabbing a bat from a rack, Whitney hopped into the fray, facing his rival mano a mano.

"Bat fighting is a gentleman's game. I dare ask why scum such as yourself is participating?"

Whitney began to circle the man like a lion circling a wolf. After all, no actor, regardless of experience, is a slouch at bat fighting.
Luis d'Duret
6.3.5.9.7.3.7
Level 1

Root Beer
Level 1

PLEASE UNMOD ME ;( ;(
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Funkifan
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The Cobras' Leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Edgar was walking aimlessly around the Boneyard, daydreaming. He wondered how his life would be if he had a horse, or some kind of vehicle or animal which could carry him. It would surely make travelling the wastes a whole lot more easier, and perhaps it would also make his adventures a whole lot more interesting. Every raider would run away when the great hero with ideal red hair and heart of gold came to save the day. He imagined himself doing an epic pose on his Shire Horse, Huracán, as he was photographed by the local populace.

"Yeah... that would be great." He smiled at the thought.

Suddenly, he heard the voices of several people roaring and screaming, and the sounds of a fighting going on. He ran to the site, where he found several people fighting each other with bats.

One man suddenly began giving kicks to a cat, which began hissing, before trying to run away. The man didn't gave him the chance, however, before he could hit the cat with his baseball bat, Edgar came running to him, and stopped him with a kick on the ribs.

EDGAR'S FIGHT THEME

He turned around, and gave a swing, which Edgar promptly evaded, thanks to his reflexes, before grabbing his own bat and strinking the man's head with it. He, however, was just a little hurt. "You want trouble, right, boy?"

He tried to attack Edgar again, and this time, his attack landed on Edgar's arm. However, it gave the redhead space to make his move, striking the man on the head again, and then giving him a kick just above the shin.

The man promptly retaliated, pushing Edgar into the ground, before trying to hit him with the baseball bat again. The hispanic boy managed to block his attack with his own bat, however, the man did succeeded on hitting Edgar's ventral region with his foot.

With some pain, the medic rolled at his side, and stood up.

"You shouldn't hurt cats..."

The man laughed. "Ahh... that is why you came to..." Before he could let him finish, Edgar striked his wrist, making him lose grip on the wooden bat he had on his hands, before hitting him again on the face, and on his chest, breaking his nose, after some swings.

"Aghh..." The man placed his hands in front of him, as he held his neck, throwing his bat at the side. "I yield." He then began running away. Edgar left him go. He hoped that he had learned his lesson, and would never try to hurt a cat again.

He furrowed his brow, and turned around, to make sure no men or women were about to attack him. He observed the scene for a moment, before noticing the guy with the orange hair and beard fighting in the alley. He moved his head from side to side. He had no quarrels with him.
Edgar Algae -HC-

SPECIAL: 3-5-7-8-6-7-4

Level: 4

Edgar is a tall, attractive man, with red bright hair, green eyes, and tan skin, due to his Hispanic heritage. He currently wears a yellow t-shirt, with cargo shorts, a Leather Jacket (Tier 2, Good CON, plus on intimidation checks). Attached to his left wrist, he possesses an Automedical Assistant. On his back, he carries an XL Rucksack, that contains several items of his', like a Medical armored Suitcase, filled with all sorts of medical equipment. His weapon of choice is the Study Group Special, a modified mini-zapper.

He is Good Natured, Spongey, and has Sex Appeal (For the girls)


+120 BT Reputation; +90 Nawlins Reputation
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LMGVagabond
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Crispy, Creamy, and Quite Dreamy
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
whitney hits gordon and edgar in the heads so hard with his bat that their heads fly off like that episode of South Park when Carlos Mencia steals fishdick jokes.
Luis d'Duret
6.3.5.9.7.3.7
Level 1

Root Beer
Level 1

PLEASE UNMOD ME ;( ;(
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Midnight Rider
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The Super Cereal
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
(Hey there's no time limit after all, classic CP move)

Whitney came running and Gordon saw them then. Silent as rad roaches, two men scuttled toward each other. A stern look of seriousness over Gordon's face as Whitney charged like a drunken Gaelic warrior. There would be no ducking and weaving, these were two men of storied warrior traditions. Whitney favoring the ancient Gauls in his ancestral homeland which came under Roman occupation. Meanwhile Gordon was from past the edges of the frontier in places that made the Gaelic Kings shake in fear. These were two men with centuries of settling things with upfront solid blows, no skirmishing, just direct bloody winner take all decisive battles.

A crack rang out as Gordon parried Whitney's blow aimed for his head. More strikes followed, slipping from quick sideways shots and sudden upward swings. Under cover of the dust and wind, the two had moved in to the center, unseen to the people gathered around to watch, aside from the occasional glimpse. They were Germans and they tossed back and forth with the millenniums of warrior tradition. They had carried knives and chains and guns but this was a bat fight and that's how it would be settled. Whitney and Gordon were vermin from the Boneyard, deadly and cold as ice.

The tides seemed to turn as Gordon backed away, wide eyed, breathing hard. He turned in a circle, looking for a hole in the net closing round them as the onlookers circled in to keep him pinned in this fight. As Whitney moved in Gordon picked a target, the adam's apple bobbing up and down on the denim wrapped thug's neck. With his last ounce of finesse, Gordon threw his bat and struck the charging bull. The bravo collapsed with a sucking, bubbling sound caused by the sudden neck wound. Whitney's bat spun from his hands in shock.

The bat came to rest a few steps from Gordon's feet. He picked up his opponent's would be instrument of death and started to rain blows on his fallen brethren. Strikes struck the mid section deep and broke several ribs. Whitney wheezed in pain as he struggled to stand under the onslaught. Seeing that this had gone on long enough Gordon slammed the bat down one last time in Whitney's skull sending him out like a light. If the thug survived the brain trauma he'd likely be brain damaged from the look of the blood pouring out.

Wrapping the man up in improvised restraints Gordon drug Whitney away from the theater. He had respected his fighting opponent tremendously but now a monstrous thing had to be done. Whitney would go out with a touch of dignity perhaps but it wouldn't be much. The Boneyard legend was still breathing by the time Gordon reached the sewer entrance. The clay dust from the ground had mixed with the blood making him seem red all over. The beast needed an offering and no one in town had the stomach for what it would take. Spotting an old beat up office chair Ali's guard used before all this started, Gordon found the perfect place to leave Whitney. Tying Whitney's hands behind his back Gordon restrained Whitney to the chair and kicked him into the sewers. The chair went spinning and tipped over leaving Whitney face first in the trickle of water flowing through the great tunnel.

It wasn't enough to drown the great fighter, but Whitney seemed to come to and struggle fruitlessly against the crude restraints. Unlike Whitney Gordon didn't drop out of the cubscouts and earned his knot badge. That wasn't a half hitch that held Whitney's hand's together it was actually one of Gordon's favorite, an improv on the noose, compacted a bit instead of the 13 loops this had but five. It held fast and Whitney just looked at Gordon with pleading eyes wondering why.

"Do I need a reason?" Gordon asked in anticipation of the question. "I do love a good joke and this is the best ever, a joke on you. But there's a better reason you don't really know much about Halloween do you? You thought no further than the strange custom of having children wear masks and go out begging for candy while their mothers dressed like whores. It was the start of the year in our old German lands, and we'd be waiting in our houses of thatch clay. The barriers would be down, between the real and the unreal, spewing forth things like our friend waiting just beyond the shadows. The dead are looking in to sit by our fires of turf. Halloween the festival of Alfablót! The last great one took place thousands of years ago, when the hills ran red with the blood of animals and children.

These spirits are the most powerful during the dark winter-months and we have short time to get them on our side. You must die Whitney so that the dead spirits will assist us in surviving through the dark cold to come. It's time again. In the end we don't decide these things, you know the seasons do. They've swung around to fall again, and it's time again. The world's going to change tonight, Whitney, I'm glad you'll be able to witness it. And Happy Halloween!"

Gordon turned and left his offering to the creature. He hoped one would be enough but secretly feared that it wouldn't be. The dead was restless and it would take a mountain of bones to satisfy them again.

(Technically you have no time limit to counter but you'll die on Halloween if you haven't escaped yet. So you kinda are fighting the clock here.)
Posted Image
Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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Funkifan
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The Cobras' Leader
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Edgar attempted to block the incoming bat from Whitney, with his own bat, succeeding, if only partially, as the bat managed to strike his head, leaving a painful, if not grave bruise. Dizzy, he decided that he just wasn't a match for the obviously stronger, tougher, and far more wiser Gordon and Whitney.

Confused, he began to move towards the other side, unaware of the fight taking place between the two Boneyard giants, being booed by the crowd that had gathered around the event, a few slaps towards his face and a kick that sent him flying to the earth, making him drop the baseball bat and run away.

Rubbing his butt, and his head, the redhead swiftly abandoned the site, having at least managed to allow the cat getting bullied to escape. He guessed that at least that was the best reward he would obtain from all of it.

He was sad, holding back tears, and in some pain, but his mind was clear enough to allow him to run, into Bucketown, then at his home, to nurse back his wounds, where at least he knew he had some skill into, not unlike the incredible fighting abilities of the two titans.

Edgar would be alright, but he had to run away from the fight like a chicken. Run so far away, he just ran.

(FUNKIFAN RETIRES FROM THIS SHOWDOWN)

[YOUTUBE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZT6jNmd_LE[/YOUTUBE]
Edgar Algae -HC-

SPECIAL: 3-5-7-8-6-7-4

Level: 4

Edgar is a tall, attractive man, with red bright hair, green eyes, and tan skin, due to his Hispanic heritage. He currently wears a yellow t-shirt, with cargo shorts, a Leather Jacket (Tier 2, Good CON, plus on intimidation checks). Attached to his left wrist, he possesses an Automedical Assistant. On his back, he carries an XL Rucksack, that contains several items of his', like a Medical armored Suitcase, filled with all sorts of medical equipment. His weapon of choice is the Study Group Special, a modified mini-zapper.

He is Good Natured, Spongey, and has Sex Appeal (For the girls)


+120 BT Reputation; +90 Nawlins Reputation
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Midnight Rider
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The Super Cereal
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
It was done and Gordon had a sickness in his stomach as he saw his friend get dragged off by the sewer beast. Other people clamored about and shrieked as the creature went after them as well. Gordon paid them no mind, he had enough darkness in him to haunt his dreams for years to come. All he could do now was pick himself up. The dark deed was done and now he had to turn to what was left in his life. He still had a performance to give, it wouldn't fill the hole in him, but for a brief moment he could be someone else. That someone else wouldn't be broken.

Despite being a champion Gordon slunk back into the dressing room like a low count vagabond. His clothes would not do, they were Gordon's not Walter Lee Younger's. The dust billowed off his shoes as he took them off. With a thud Gordon tossed them aside and put on the dress clothes they had available. The suit was meant for someone else, they wouldn't tailor them for an understudy. The jacket was big in the shoulders but up on stage Gordon doubted anyone would notice. Taking some careful time he put on each item and adjusted his tie. He put away Gordon stone and became Walter as he combed his hair just right with the proper part. The comb clattered on the table as he stood up and walked out for the performance of a lifetime.

The actors were shocked to see Gordon back after the scuffle. Not wanting to make things awkward Gordon spoke first.

"We still got a crowd out there?" he asked.

"Still a few folks keeping out of the sun," a stage hand replied.

"Then lets give them the performance of a lifetime," Gordon insisted. "The show must go on."

With great haste the crew doused the torch lamps to quiet the theater and Gordon stepped forward to the center of the stage. The old uneven boards squeaked slightly as he stepped forward and he was bathed in the crude spotlight they had rigged up. That was Gordon's whole world in that moment, and he breathed deep into his core and projected those famous opening lines.

[align=center]"What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
Like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
Like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?" [/align]
Posted Image
Gordon "Stone" Hennigan, SPECIAL: 5.6.9.3.5.10.3. Level: 6 HC
Peter McCullough SPECIAL: 4, 4, 4, 10, 10, 4 , 4, Level 3 HC

THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY

The spirits have taken an interest in you for all the wrong reasons! Unexpected challenges will come to you during your RPs but the rewards doled out will be much juicier. It is possible to live with such a curse, but if you would rather live curse free, you could simply sell the corpse and wash your hands of the whole situation.

Lmgthev: MBP is handsome
LonesomeDrifter23: Sometimes I think MBP is a being made entirely of satire.
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Cewebwalz
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Henshin a go-go baby
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
neat job guys


Quote:
 
GORDON

Possessed - Whitney's now a part of you, it seems the mummy curse and a ghost clone in the same vicinity is equivalent to cocaine hydrochloride mixed with morphine sulfate, you're speedballing the fucking afterlife man. Much like uppers and downers, these seem to suppress each others effects, giving you a wide range of side effects including premature ectoplasm and phantom poo's.

Bone Arm - This showdown happened so long ago that Whitney's ghost white bone arm is now a tier one melee weapon. It's incredibly fragile, but breaking it will cause all sorts of freaky shit to happen if anything ever goes down.


Quote:
 
EDGAR

Batarang - A bat shaped boomerang. It's incredibly silly, as no one ever expected anyone to take baseball bat memorabilia this seriously.



Quote:
 
Whitney/LMG

Bat Out of Hell - Your next character can summon a swarm of bats when it's thematically appropriate. Not kidding.
Jesse Winters - Penitentiary Pugilist
8(+2).5.7.5.5.8.4, Level: 4 -HC-

Grace Van Vliet - Indie Incinerator
5.7.7.5.5.4.7, Level: 3 -HC-
Quote:
 
Lmgthev:� Like tbh I agree CP is not the golden boy at all
Lmgthev:� You're like John Candy from Cool Runnings
Lmgthev:� Washed up has been who teaches the newcomers the trade� :D

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"What is Adderal, anyhow?" - Funky Fan
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