Metal Man, I choose you!
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Videospirit
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- Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 5:03 am
Metal Man, I choose you!
What? No, this is not a pokemon parody, I choose you as my first opponent! It's been over 2 years since I last battled with Video so I need to really smack myself senseless to get things going. The battle is lost when one of the contenders loses conciousness, admits defeat(And there is no pretending here, if you say "i give up" it's over) or dies. Use any character you like, and I'll let you pick the battlefield.
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::Abbadon::
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- Joined: Sat Jun 23, 2007 8:04 pm
- Location: Vegas
ahhhh...
0oC: I think I shall take your challenge, Gunjin Rules Apply no God-Moding ect..I shall make the 1st post and pick Battlefield...The battle will take a while since I am pretty drawn out
In light of the recent Harry Potter excitement, and my love for the series...Hogwarts shall be the battlefield. I shall post a NEW thread named... Dark Chaos at Hogwarts ... with my 1st post...
Ty.... ::Abbadon::
Don't Die for your country, let them die for theirs- Patton
0oC: I think I shall take your challenge, Gunjin Rules Apply no God-Moding ect..I shall make the 1st post and pick Battlefield...The battle will take a while since I am pretty drawn out
In light of the recent Harry Potter excitement, and my love for the series...Hogwarts shall be the battlefield. I shall post a NEW thread named... Dark Chaos at Hogwarts ... with my 1st post...Ty.... ::Abbadon::
Don't Die for your country, let them die for theirs- Patton
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Metal Man
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- Joined: Sun Apr 23, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: 1592 Miles Away From Here
- Contact:
The battlefield was on the moon this time; an endless wasteland of craters, with the entire solar system readily visible in the sky. Man had come here before, but not recently; a few dim remnants of their past occupations here could be seen. As well, the undisturbed tracks of astronauts, and a constant amount of craters. The entire place was a bullet-gray sort of color, and extremely desolate. Indeed, if it was not for the type of people these fighters were, they would simply freeze to death in the frozen Lunar night.
But another man walked on this moon, his boots not making a sound in this airless atmosphere. He silently clutched a gun, muttering to himself inside his suit.
"Worthless machines. Thinking they can kill me by simply targeting my flesh... that took a trillion space galeros to fix! And now my nose is crooked. Crooked I tell you! I hate this... hate it so much. I'll kill that robot, kill him w--"
He saw a disturbance. Immediately, he lashed out, firing a laser rifle he had with him on this excursion. But it was only a small meteorite hitting the ground. He lowered it, staring at the crater it had made, and generally feeling stupid for being so paranoid.
"Gee. Like anyone would attack me out here in the first place?" He tapped on his helmet. "Earth to Metal Man, this is the moon. Nobody's just gonna pop up and attack me out here!"
He looked over his shoulder, and nearly dropped his gun. There was somebody there, and it was likely they would attack!
"Dang it! That's the last time I say something hypothetical while alone!"
He turned to face whoever it was, trying to make out their features in this dimly lit airless desert, his feet moving around the dust, and the rocks crunching under his feet.
He was 7" tall, consisting of interlocking metal plates that made a human shape. Somewhere underneath all that armor was a human, one with a scarred face and flowing gray hair. He had the stubble of an old war veteran and looked to be pushing 50. He'd smoke if his lungs weren't in such bad condition from his many fights...
His arms looked to have been replaced many times, apparently from constant destruction. He also had a number of marks near his chest--they marked all the foes he had fought, and mostly defeated--all in the shape of weird lines.
He glinted in the dim light as he gingerly pointed his rifle at the newcomer. His gun was about 3 feet long and made of dim gunmetal itself; shiny like he was, and streamlined. Its power pack glowed as if it was radioactive; a strange shade of red. Its laser rangefinder was pointed at the newcomer; he was trying to get a bead, or determine whether it was a real person... who knew?
Metal's watch blinked. It was 0:04 AM again. He hated when it said that.
But another man walked on this moon, his boots not making a sound in this airless atmosphere. He silently clutched a gun, muttering to himself inside his suit.
"Worthless machines. Thinking they can kill me by simply targeting my flesh... that took a trillion space galeros to fix! And now my nose is crooked. Crooked I tell you! I hate this... hate it so much. I'll kill that robot, kill him w--"
He saw a disturbance. Immediately, he lashed out, firing a laser rifle he had with him on this excursion. But it was only a small meteorite hitting the ground. He lowered it, staring at the crater it had made, and generally feeling stupid for being so paranoid.
"Gee. Like anyone would attack me out here in the first place?" He tapped on his helmet. "Earth to Metal Man, this is the moon. Nobody's just gonna pop up and attack me out here!"
He looked over his shoulder, and nearly dropped his gun. There was somebody there, and it was likely they would attack!
"Dang it! That's the last time I say something hypothetical while alone!"
He turned to face whoever it was, trying to make out their features in this dimly lit airless desert, his feet moving around the dust, and the rocks crunching under his feet.
He was 7" tall, consisting of interlocking metal plates that made a human shape. Somewhere underneath all that armor was a human, one with a scarred face and flowing gray hair. He had the stubble of an old war veteran and looked to be pushing 50. He'd smoke if his lungs weren't in such bad condition from his many fights...
His arms looked to have been replaced many times, apparently from constant destruction. He also had a number of marks near his chest--they marked all the foes he had fought, and mostly defeated--all in the shape of weird lines.
He glinted in the dim light as he gingerly pointed his rifle at the newcomer. His gun was about 3 feet long and made of dim gunmetal itself; shiny like he was, and streamlined. Its power pack glowed as if it was radioactive; a strange shade of red. Its laser rangefinder was pointed at the newcomer; he was trying to get a bead, or determine whether it was a real person... who knew?
Metal's watch blinked. It was 0:04 AM again. He hated when it said that.
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Videospirit
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- Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 5:03 am
If someone thought the patchwork quilt of a man speaking on the moon was odd, than they'd have to admit the figure floating 2 feet off the ground behind him was equally odd. At first glance he appeared to be nothing more than a large blob of blue and purple gas, swirling around, although oddly staying together instead of rapidly dispersing throughout the practically non existent atmosphere of the moon.
However if they focus their eyes a little, they would make out the visage of a man in the center of this blob, darker gases forming his body while the lighter gases float around him like a heavenly aura.
The gas shifts about oddly, as if it's looking towards metal man and chuckles as he turns to face it. The gassy figure speaks, his voice seems to travel particularly well despite the low atmosphere. "Wow... and I thought I looked a bit like a patchwork quilt. I've got nothing on your crooked nose!"
However if they focus their eyes a little, they would make out the visage of a man in the center of this blob, darker gases forming his body while the lighter gases float around him like a heavenly aura.
The gas shifts about oddly, as if it's looking towards metal man and chuckles as he turns to face it. The gassy figure speaks, his voice seems to travel particularly well despite the low atmosphere. "Wow... and I thought I looked a bit like a patchwork quilt. I've got nothing on your crooked nose!"