Hi, I'm interested in this game. I have a character concept in mind, but the problem is that it's a Sapient Undead. It can be modified to work as a normal human, but I feel that the character will click better if he's undead.
Basically, the idea is that he was an ordinary conscripted soldier of low birth, who, out of loyalty, jumped in the way of an arrow meant for the king of Thain in the middle of a pitched battle. The arrow was enchanted to cause death near-instantaneously if any part of it touched one's bare skin, and it pierced through his armor and went into his ribcage.
Thanks to his sacrifice, the battle was won and the king survived. Out of gratitude for the young soldier who sacrificed his life to save his own, he had him raised and subsequently knighted, to be inducted into the Iron Rose Knights for his great and noble deed. 150 years later, he's still serving.
Of course, if we go with him just being human, then that basically means that the arrow would have been perfectly ordinary, he survived the attack, and was knighted normally.
Either concept would work I think, I just like the former one better. What do you think? Is this acceptable?
Alright, sheet up. Now I'm going to sleep. @Noodles
Name: Adrian "Shadow" Hex
Age: 23
Bounty: 50,000,000, WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE for 437 counts of first-degree murder, high treason against the World Government, 25 counts of impersonating a Marine, assassinating a Rear Admiral, 1203 counts of third-degree murder, 826 counts of murdering an on-duty Marine, 429 counts of assaulting a Marine, and knowingly associating with a traitorous organization.
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Personality: Adrian, though a man in the pursuit of justice, is an assassin by trade, and it shows. As a former Nightblade, he is not without compassion, but he has been taught from an early age that, for many evildoers across the seas, death is the only just sentence. He will almost always kill a person he has decided is his next target, as few that he seeks out are worthy of a second chance. He is not all doom-and-gloom, however. He can be a fun-loving person outside of the battlefield, but he's slow to truly trust others, knowing that in the world of outlaws, and especially pirates, almost anyone you meet is willing to slit your throat in your sleep for a few dozen berries. It should be noted that he's convinced himself that simple violence won't fix the world, but will only be stopgap solution. Even so, he is willing to kill Marines, and both work with and kill pirates, out of simple necessity.
Backstory: Adrian was born to parents he never knew, the product of a one-night stand between a drunk pirate and a prostitute. He never knew his mother, the woman abandoning him as an infant. He somehow survived to adolescence, eking out out a miserable existence as a street urchin in the moderately-sized island city he was born in. Over time, he witnessed many Marines, whose job it was to guard the city, abuse their power on the regular. Running rackets against the citizens and beating those who couldn't pay, threatening to arrest anyone who dared inconvenience them, turning a blind eye to pirate dealings in exchange for bribe money, and sometimes even committing murder and getting away with it.
There was a Marine commander, one William Draco, in charge of this island, and he was by far the worst of the lot. There were few pies he didn't have a hand in, and very few crimes he had not committed during his career, though perhaps a more appropriate term by this point would be "reign." Commander Draco was a massive man, said to be capable of effortlessly tearing an ordinary person in half. He was an expert in armed combat. His weapon of choice was a massive, two-handed battleaxe modeled off of a Marine boarding ax, that he once used to cut down the support beams of an entire tavern that hadn't paid his protection money, collapsing the whole thing on top of himself and walking out unscathed. He was also an expert swordsman, easily disposing of the few pirates who dared attack him when he didn't have said battleaxe with the cutlass he kept on him at all times.
On the morning of Adrian's 16th birthday, he woke up to find the Marines shaken, their protection rackets no longer in effect, and no more crimes being committed. He asked one of the local street boys he knew what had happened.
"Didn't you hear?" he said. "Draco was killed an hour ago. They one second he was fine, beatin' the shit out of some kid who mouthed off to him, and the next his head just fell off. There was a rush of wind too. They think someone just...moved fast enough to decapitate the guy without anyone seeing him. An' then, five seconds later, there was a note on his carcass: 'Your commander has been executed by the Nightblades. Abuse your power again and you will meet his fate.'"
Adrian ran off, without another word, leaving the boy calling after him. He figured that the assassin couldn't have gone far. And maybe, just maybe, if he could catch the guy, he might be impressed enough to let him join these "Nightblades." It wasn't like his life was going anyplace good anyway, even with Draco short a head.
The only way on or off the island was a ship, and he figured the assassin would be wearing some kind of disguise. This was a decently-sized island, and he doubted the assassin could keep that speed up forever.
Sure enough, he caught what looked like an young Marine boarding a civilian ship at the docks, by himself. The people wouldn't question a Marine, no matter if he was familiar. Just because Draco was dead didn't mean the fear he instilled would go away, at least not immediately.
He tailed him, using the skills he had learned hiding from the Marines to sneak onto the ship. When it left the dock and was sufficiently out to sea, he came out of hiding and announced his presence. He was brought before the captain, arms tied behind his back, and held at swordpoint by the captain, who asked him why he'd stown away. The captain seemed to be smirking. Had she known that he'd been onboard the entire time? She might've thought he was a Marine spy, and as he had noticed the unique armbands the crew were equipped with (likely designating a secret ranking system), he smiled widely. He knew that he had come to the right place, and he needed to make sure she knew he wanted to join and wasn't here to hinder their plans. He announced then and there that he had hidden on their ship so that they'd be impressed enough to allow him to join, having figured out that this was a Nightblade vessel.
In response, the captain sheathed her sword...and decked him across the face hard enough to knock him over, saying, "The Nightblades are an assassin group. WE. KILL. PEOPLE. You shouldn't be so eager to take lives, nor throw your life away, just because we did a good deed for you. You need to carefully consider your course of action. You'll be fighting the cruelest pirates and the most corrupt Marines imaginable, and you'll see the worst humanity has to offer." She then pulled Adrian to his feet and put her face an inch from his, saying, "And you're going to kill them, or you're going to die. This isn't a life you sign up for because you want to rise above your station. You enter because you want to clean up the world, and you're willing to put your life and freedom on the line for that ideal. You're willing to become an enemy of both the World Government and the pirate community in the name of that goal, and devote yourself to the cause. You will murder, you will often fight for your life, and you may very well die in action. Or worse, be made an example of by the World Government. I can tell by looking at you that you're some homeless ragamuffin, and you've probably done all of this because you think that being one of us will give you a better life. Well no, it isn't. It's much, much more dangerous, even if you get fed more often."
She then dropped him to the ground. She said to her underlings, "Put him to work for now, give him a taste of the day-to-day life. I'll ask him how he feels about it in a week."
True to the captain's word, Adrian was put to work as a low-level crew member almost immediately. It was tedious and sometimes back-breaking labor, but he had gotten a feel for it over the course of the week. Of course, he hadn't joined for an easy way out of the homeless life, though that was certainly a contributing factor. No. He just wanted more people like Commander Draco to drop dead already. The world would be better off without them. In a week, he was asked his answer, and it was a resounding yes.
The ship eventually arrived at its destination: Seemingly a large deserted island covered in dense jungle, he was led to a hidden entrance at the base of the island's natural cliffs. Inside, he saw the Nightblade HQ in all its glory. They had hollowed out the entire cliffside, creating a colossal stone fortress, complete with folding-out openings for cannon emplacements and such, hidden in plain sight. A passing Marine ship would have no idea that that the Nightblade headquarters was within swimming distance, as, using a similar technology to that found in the motors of cyborgs, their vessels were hidden behind a sliding rock face at the back of the island's natural bay, kept in a grotto.
And it was in this base that Adrian would learn the ways of the Nightblade. It turned out that the group had been founded by a former CP9 member, a master of the seven techniques of the Rokushiki. Having overcome his brainwashing and become disillusioned with the World Government's warped sense of "Absolute Justice," he deserted the organization and founded his own group of killers, a group that, while no less lethal, would employ the nuance that the World Government sorely lacked.
Adrian became proficient in the six major Rokushiki techniques, never quite managing to master the seventh secret technique, but he became an established Nightblade in his own right over the course of 437 successful assassinations across the following five years. And yet...the jobs never stopped coming. He had killed hundreds of people by this point, ranging from small-time pirate captains (and their crews) all the way up to a Rear Admiral--though he barely escaped that fight with his life. Was he really helping the world, just by eliminating pirates and corrupt Marines? He was putting fear into the hearts of the World Government, for sure, but realized that one group of violent killers cannot change human nature. Murder, on a large scale or a small scale, couldn't change the world. Even killing the World Nobles would just cause a power struggle that would leave even more people dead. The Nightblades were self-defeating: All they would do is kill, solving nothing, until they were killed themselves.
And so, he asked the Council of Nine, the group's leaders, if he could leave the organization. They agreed. They would give him everything he needed to leave the island: A small vessel, enough supplies to reach civilization--as he had no bounty on him at the time, so impeccable was his record--and enough money to start a new life as anything he chose.
So, he packed his things, and left for the nearest civilized island. There, he tried to settle down, start something new with his life. Two years later, he had managed to become a small-time trader, and was traveling along one of the prime East Blue trade routes when his navigator caught sight of a formerly-deserted island to Starboard. The island, known for its natural cliffs, was thought to be uninhabited, but for some reason those beautiful cliffs had been utterly obliterated.
The navigator immediately called for his captain's attention, asking what they should do with this information. Captain Hex told him to move towards the island. And so, despite some shocked cries from the men, they did so dutifully. Adrian had thought that it couldn't be possible, but he knew the coordinates of the island well enough by this point. This was the NIghtblade hideout. And it was in ruins.
The cliffs had been reduced to little more than rubble, and beneath the rubble were bodies. Thousands of bodies. Nearly all of them had decayed into skeletons by this point, but he recognized a precious few. He left the island sullen and miserable, and he told the crew to never tell a soul about what they had just witnessed. They solemnly agreed, but when they arrived at their next stop, one crewmember, on the guise of heading to a tavern, alerted the local Marines to his captain's suspicious reaction, and almost immediately the Marines put two and two together: The man who captained this merchant ship, one Adrian Hex, was in fact the assassin who had been given the moniker "Shadow," a Nightblade who had managed to stay completely under the Marines' radar for over half a decade now. The annihlation of the Nightblade's order had caused the authorities to assume he was killed in the bloodshed. After all, who could have survived a Buster Call which warranted the personal intervention of the Fleet Admiral, two of the three regular Admirals, and five Vice Admirals?
But, due to an early retirement, Adrian had survived, and now he was a wanted man. Thanks to Soru, he could run farther than anyone else outside of CP-9. But eventually, he'd be caught, tried, and executed...right?
Abilities: Adrian is proficient in the six main techniques of the Rokushiki: Geppo, Tekkai, Shigan, Rankyaku, Soru, and Kami-e. Geppo allows Adrian to jump off the air itself. Tekkai allows him to shrug off blows that would easily kill a normal man, and harden his body to deal extra damage. Shigan is a quick assassination technique where Adrian can force his finger into the opponent's body, usually with lethal results. Rankyaku allows Adrian to strike the air fast enough to create high-pressure waves of wind capable of slicing objects and mutilating a human target. Soru allows him to move faster than the eye can track. Kami-e allows him to bend his body like paper, avoiding damage and becoming even faster. But before he retired, he was working on learning the Rokuogan, a technique that would have allowed him to project a massive shockwave into the opponent at point-blank range, a technique which was capable of severely injuring even Luffy. Unfortunately, this technique is out of his reach for now, though it would have made Adrian's life significantly easier if he had managed to master it before the Nightblade HQ was blown to smithereens. Perhaps he can still master it?
As for his weapons, Adrian prefers to fight with two daggers and is a master of using them effectively. He is also fond of darts: By applying the speed of Soru to his arm, he can multiply the force of a throwing dart a hundred times over, enabling his darts to go through walls like they weren't there, and rip straight through most armor with the force of an anti-tank rifle. He has expert aim with these darts, and they're much quieter than guns, not to mention he can throw them dozens of times faster than it would take to reload a flintlock. There is a very good reason he carries a seemingly-endless supply of darts on him, as he tends to expend dozens to clear out large quantities of minor enemies quickly. Furthermore, he has excellent aim with virtually any throwing weapon, from knives to axes to even spears. He even prefers throwing weapons to his Rankyaku, as they are much more subtle. He can use virtually any melee or ranged weapon he picks up at least somewhat effectively due to his Nightblade training preparing him for all circumstances, but is out of practice with most other than his favorites, the twin daggers he carries on him constantly, albeit concealed underneath his coat. He also carries on him a few Nightblade tricks of the trade, such as caltrops to slow down chasing enemies, smoke bombs to create an opening to escape with Soru or disorient a foe, chloroform wipes to incapacitate an enemy quickly, and homemade firebombs to create chaos when things go hairy. He is also adept at mixing poisons and drugs useful for clandestine work, ranging from neurotoxins to hallucinogens to sedatives. Of course, he's also capable in a mundane fist-fight as well.
As a former captain of a small merchant vessel, he understands the principles of seamaking and of running a ship, and knows a thing or two about business as well. He's able to recognize when he's being ripped off, as well as appriase an object's value, the latter of which would make him invaluable on a pirate crew, should he choose to join one.
Perhaps the most important tool in his arsenal, however, is stealth. As a trained assassin, he is skilled in the art of not being seen, as well as using disguises to hide in plain sight. He is adept at evading the authorities and sneaking into places where he shouldn't be. If you need a man to break into a heavily-fortified installation without causing a ruckus, Adrian is your man. He's not one for honororable combat either, happily gouging out an enemy's eyes if necessary.
All of this together makes Adrian a fast-moving, heavily-armed whirlwind of death and destruction who can always vanish in a puff of smoke when he's at a disadvantage, only to re-engage from an angle you aren't expecting with a dart aimed for your vitals. He may not have a Devil Fruit, but that's no reason not to take a former Nightblade who was learning the Rokuogan very, very seriously.
Relationships:
The Scarlet Pirates: None. He hasn't joined their group. He may work with pirates in general as allies of convenience, but so far, nothing beyond that. Still, being on a pirate crew could provide him protection from the World Government.
The Nightblades: Like any somewhat-old clandestine organization, there will be others who have retired, or were sufficiently out-of-the-way to avoid the Marines' wrath even after an event like this. The Buster Call may have obliterated the HQ and dismantled the Nightblades as an organization, but there are likely still others alive. Who these others are, Adrian has no clue. He retired quite some time before the attack, he knew little of the goings-on at the Nightblades at the time of the Buster Call beyond which of the few friends he could recognize are dead and which are unaccounted for.
Family: What family? Adrian never knew his parents. He gave himself the name "Adrian Hex" because he thought it sounded cool when he was four years old, and it stuck. His whore mother is probably somewhere on his birth island, but his pirate father could be anywhere, and may have even been killed by this point. Pirating is a dangerous profession.
Dreams: To see "Absolute Justice" removed, and true justice instituted.
New Power Learned! Resuscitate: Donnie learns a basic resurrection spell, a leftover from his generalist monk training. Donnie can revive one person at a time after a 1.5-second cast that requires great concentration. This works by returning the soul to the body, and revives them with severe injuries, necessitating that they be healed away. This means that it won't work if there is no body left behind, making it impossible to revive Galeem's minions this way.
Donnie watched, first with respect, then with revulsion, Mr. Grimm tried to take them all on, only for the Centurion to execute a man who already couldn't fight back. His gauntleted hands balled into fists as he watched the display. And then, Peach of all people absorbing his soul...
* * *
Master Shang Xi gazed at his wayward student, a strange creature by the name of Donovan. It seemed that, having been brought into the school later in life than most students, Donovan had been more prone to mistakes than his classmates. The young monk's brash nature and his tendency to punch first and ask questions later troubled the old master, wondering if perhaps he might misuse his talents.
This wasn't the first time the human had been brought before the master, and it likely wouldn't be the last.
"Initiate Donovan," Shang said. "I've been told that you got into a fight yet again. Tell me what happened."
"I saw a thief run off with a bag of gold coins," the teenage human replied, "He was stealing from the old woman who runs the teahouse!"
The master held up a hand to stop him from speaking more, having understood the situation perfectly. "And so you acted in defense of that old woman by physically assaulting the thief. You could have gone to get the guards, tailed him and told a guard where he was hiding, or simply used your brute strength to restrain him until the authorities could arrive. You could have even used the handwraps you had on you to bind his wrists. Instead, you beat him senseless. I am informed you tackled him to the ground, punched him several times, and then intentionally broke one of his legs to stop him from running away."
He looked at his student piercingly. "I understand that you adhere to the way of the Huojin. You value action. But that is no reason not to exercise restraint. You have been trained in the ways of combat, but you must know when to use force and when to use less extreme methods."
"I understand, master," Donovan said, his head hung in shame. "What is my punishment?"
The master looked slightly amused, an expression that nonetheless ran chills down Donovan's spine. "You will clean the floor of the temple for the next week. You will make up your missed lessons at night, the week after."
Donovan stood aghast. "You can't be serious!"
"I am. Your first shift starts in ten minutes. Run along now."
Donovan quickly ran away, mortified.
* * *
If there was one thing that week scrubbing floors had taught him, it was that there was a time to use force and there was a time to simply walk away. He could have given the Centurion a tongue-lashing, but while he was in his reverie, the moment had already passed.
And he had a more pressing concern. Seeing Mr. Grimm vanish like that rapidly caused a flood of information to enter his mind. Memories of reviving the dead, and of the spell Resuscitate.
But since Mr. Grimm had no body left, that wouldn't work even if he could somehow remove Mr. Grimm's soul from Peach's body. Besides, looking at their chi, it seemed like their essences had fused completely. It was doubtful that the man's consciousness could be removed in the same way.
Still, seeing the sweet, naive princess from the castle now talk about ripping the souls from her allies' chests...it left a bad taste in his mouth. In fact, this whole thing did. Consuming souls? Fusing with them? Turning them into equipment? This was disgusting. This was wrong. He knew warlocks who wouldn't stoop to such a level, even when dealing with the demons they fought and enslaved. Hell, even death knights wouldn't do that these days!
But it was out of necessity. They'd need all the power they would get, wouldn't they? And he supposed that killing an injured enemy who'd been so hell-bent on killing you not thirty seconds ago made a twisted kind of sense.
In any event, the remaining loot needed to be divvied up. He could chew the Centurion out later. He strolled over to Needles' Spirit, and craned his neck over towards Michael, Franklin, and Gene.
@Simple Unicycle@thedman "You three need power more than I do," Donnie said, in a voice that made clear that, under the surface, he was quite disturbed by the events on display. "I'm getting spells back by the day. I just remembered my resurrection spell when that Peach ate that guy. Turn the clown into a flamethrower or something. Figure it out between yourselves."
Then, walking a few feet ahead, he looked at Sweet Bot. "Now, that's what I'm interested in. I'll take it if no-one else wants it, and if nothing else it can probably fit a few extra people."
As I mentioned earlier, I'm not super into One Piece, and I got a lot of this information from the wiki, so I'm not so familiar with what a proper bounty is. And yes, they were vaguely inspired by the Hashashin. To be specific, I based them at least partly on the bastardized version of them from Assassin's Creed. The Nightblades weren't obsessed with hashish, for example. :P
Oh, and there's some stereotypical ninja-clan influence in there too. Why else do you think I'd give them the Rokushiki?
Well, I got a WIP sheet up. I didn't bother completing it because I wasn't sure if this character would fit, for a variety of reasons, so I wanted @Noodles to take a look what I have so far. The backstory is 1,909 words, so it's pretty dense, and I wanted to see if he would fit in with the crew or the game concept before I finished the entire thing.
Name: Adrian "Shadow" Hex
Age: 23
Bounty: 50,000,000, WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE for 437 counts of first-degree murder, high treason against the World Government, 54 counts of impersonating a Marine, and associating with a group of like-minded traitors.
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Personality: Adrian, though a man in the pursuit of justice, is an assassin by trade, and it shows. As a former Nightblade, he is not without compassion, but he has been taught from an early age that, for many evildoers across the seas, death is the only just sentence. He will almost always kill a person he has decided is his next target, as few that he seeks out are worthy of a second chance. He is not all doom-and-gloom, however. He can be a fun-loving person outside of the battlefield, but he's slow to truly trust others, knowing that in the world of outlaws, and especially pirates, almost anyone you meet is willing to slit your throat in your sleep for a few dozen berries. It should be noted that he's convinced himself that simple violence won't fix the world, but will only be stopgap solution. Even so, he is willing to kill Marines, and both work with and kill pirates, out of simple necessity.
Backstory: Adrian was born to parents he never knew, the product of a one-night stand between a drunk pirate and a prostitute. He never knew his mother, the woman abandoning him as an infant. He somehow survived to adolescence, eking out out a miserable existence as a street urchin in the moderately-sized island city he was born in. Over time, he witnessed many Marines, whose job it was to guard the city, abuse their power on the regular. Running rackets against the citizens and beating those who couldn't pay, threatening to arrest anyone who dared inconvenience them, turning a blind eye to pirate dealings in exchange for bribe money, and sometimes even committing murder and getting away with it.
There was a Marine commander, one William Draco, in charge of this island, and he was by far the worst of the lot. There were few pies he didn't have a hand in, and very few crimes he had not committed during his career, though perhaps a more appropriate term by this point would be "reign." Commander Draco was a massive man, said to be capable of effortlessly tearing an ordinary person in half. He was an expert in armed combat. His weapon of choice was a massive, two-handed battleaxe modeled off of a Marine boarding ax, that he once used to cut down the support beams of an entire tavern that hadn't paid his protection money, collapsing the whole thing on top of himself and walking out unscathed. He was also an expert swordsman, easily disposing of the few pirates who dared attack him when he didn't have said battleaxe with the cutlass he kept on him at all times.
On the morning of Adrian's 16th birthday, he woke up to find the Marines shaken, their protection rackets no longer in effect, and no more crimes being committed. He asked one of the local street boys he knew what had happened.
"Didn't you hear?" he said. "Draco was killed an hour ago. They one second he was fine, beatin' the shit out of some kid who mouthed off to him, and the next his head just fell off. There was a rush of wind too. They think someone just...moved fast enough to decapitate the guy without anyone seeing him. An' then, five seconds later, there was a note on his carcass: 'Your commander has been executed by the Nightblades. Abuse your power again and you will meet his fate.'"
Adrian ran off, without another word, leaving the boy calling after him. He figured that the assassin couldn't have gone far. And maybe, just maybe, if he could catch the guy, he might be impressed enough to let him join these "Nightblades." It wasn't like his life was going anyplace good anyway, even with Draco short a head.
The only way on or off the island was a ship, and he figured the assassin would be wearing some kind of disguise. This was a decently-sized island, and he doubted the assassin could keep that speed up forever.
Sure enough, he caught what looked like an young Marine boarding a civilian ship at the docks, by himself. The people wouldn't question a Marine, no matter if he was familiar. Just because Draco was dead didn't mean the fear he instilled would go away, at least not immediately.
He tailed him, using the skills he had learned hiding from the Marines to sneak onto the ship. When it left the dock and was sufficiently out to sea, he came out of hiding and announced his presence. He was brought before the captain, arms tied behind his back, and held at swordpoint by the captain, who asked him why he'd stown away. The captain seemed to be smirking. Had she known that he'd been onboard the entire time? She might've thought he was a Marine spy, and as he had noticed the unique armbands the crew were equipped with (likely designating a secret ranking system), he smiled widely. He knew that he had come to the right place, and he needed to make sure she knew he wanted to join and wasn't here to hinder their plans. He announced then and there that he had hidden on their ship so that they'd be impressed enough to allow him to join, having figured out that this was a Nightblade vessel.
In response, the captain sheathed her sword...and decked him across the face hard enough to knock him over, saying, "The Nightblades are an assassin group. WE. KILL. PEOPLE. You shouldn't be so eager to take lives, nor throw your life away, just because we did a good deed for you. You need to carefully consider your course of action. You'll be fighting the cruelest pirates and the most corrupt Marines imaginable, and you'll see the worst humanity has to offer." She then pulled Adrian to his feet and put her face an inch from his, saying, "And you're going to kill them, or you're going to die. This isn't a life you sign up for because you want to rise above your station. You enter because you want to clean up the world, and you're willing to put your life and freedom on the line for that ideal. You're willing to become an enemy of both the World Government and the pirate community in the name of that goal, and devote yourself to the cause. You will murder, you will often fight for your life, and you may very well die in action. Or worse, be made an example of by the World Government. I can tell by looking at you that you're some homeless ragamuffin, and you've probably done all of this because you think that being one of us will give you a better life. Well no, it isn't. It's much, much more dangerous, even if you get fed more often."
She then dropped him to the ground. She said to her underlings, "Put him to work for now, give him a taste of the day-to-day life. I'll ask him how he feels about it in a week."
True to the captain's word, Adrian was put to work as a low-level crew member almost immediately. It was tedious and sometimes back-breaking labor, but he had gotten a feel for it over the course of the week. Of course, he hadn't joined for an easy way out of the homeless life, though that was certainly a contributing factor. No. He just wanted more people like Commander Draco to drop dead already. The world would be better off without them. In a week, he was asked his answer, and it was a resounding yes.
The ship eventually arrived at its destination: Seemingly a large deserted island covered in dense jungle, he was led to a hidden entrance at the base of the island's natural cliffs. Inside, he saw the Nightblade HQ in all its glory. They had hollowed out the entire cliffside, creating a colossal stone fortress, complete with folding-out openings for cannon emplacements and such, hidden in plain sight. A passing Marine ship would have no idea that that the Nightblade headquarters was within swimming distance, as, using a similar technology to that found in the motors of cyborgs, their vessels were hidden behind a sliding rock face at the back of the island's natural bay, kept in a grotto.
And it was in this base that Adrian would learn the ways of the Nightblade. It turned out that the group had been founded by a former CP9 member, a master of the seven techniques of the Rokushiki. Having overcome his brainwashing and become disillusioned with the World Government's warped sense of "Absolute Justice," he deserted the organization and founded his own group of killers, a group that, while no less lethal, would employ the nuance that the World Government sorely lacked.
Adrian became proficient in the six major Rokushiki techniques, never quite managing to master the seventh secret technique, but he became an established Nightblade in his own right over the course of 437 successful assassinations across the following five years. And yet...the jobs never stopped coming. He had killed hundreds of people by this point, ranging from small-time pirate captains (and their crews) all the way up to a Rear Admiral--though he barely escaped that fight with his life. Was he really helping the world, just by eliminating pirates and corrupt Marines? He was putting fear into the hearts of the World Government, for sure, but realized that one group of violent killers cannot change human nature. Murder, on a large scale or a small scale, couldn't change the world. Even killing the World Nobles would just cause a power struggle that would leave even more people dead. The Nightblades were self-defeating: All they would do is kill, solving nothing, until they were killed themselves.
And so, he asked the Council of Nine, the group's leaders, if he could leave the organization. They agreed. They would give him everything he needed to leave the island: A small vessel, enough supplies to reach civilization--as he had no bounty on him at the time, so impeccable was his record--and enough money to start a new life as anything he chose.
So, he packed his things, and left for the nearest civilized island. There, he tried to settle down, start something new with his life. Two years later, he had managed to become a small-time trader, and was traveling along one of the prime East Blue trade routes when his navigator caught sight of a formerly-deserted island to Starboard. The island, known for its natural cliffs, was thought to be uninhabited, but for some reason those beautiful cliffs had been utterly obliterated.
The navigator immediately called for his captain's attention, asking what they should do with this information. Captain Hex told him to move towards the island. And so, despite some shocked cries from the men, they did so dutifully. Adrian had thought that it couldn't be possible, but he knew the coordinates of the island well enough by this point. This was the NIghtblade hideout. And it was in ruins.
The cliffs had been reduced to little more than rubble, and beneath the rubble were bodies. Thousands of bodies. Nearly all of them had decayed into skeletons by this point, but he recognized a precious few. He left the island sullen and miserable, and he told the crew to never tell a soul about what they had just witnessed. They solemnly agreed, but when they arrived at their next stop, one crewmember, on the guise of heading to a tavern, alerted the local Marines to his captain's suspicious reaction, and almost immediately the Marines put two and two together: The man who captained this merchant ship, one Adrian Hex, was in fact the assassin who had been given the moniker "Shadow," a Nightblade who had managed to stay completely under the Marines' radar for over half a decade now. The annihlation of the Nightblade's order had caused the authorities to assume he was killed in the bloodshed. After all, who could have survived a Buster Call which warranted the personal intervention of the Fleet Admiral, two of the three regular Admirals, and five Vice Admirals?
But, due to an early retirement, Adrian had survived, and now he was a wanted man. Thanks to Soru, he could run farther than anyone else outside of CP-9. But eventually, he'd be caught, tried, and executed...right?
Abilities: A list of what your char can do. Does he or she have a devil fruit? How does he fight? Cutlass or Pistol for example.
Relationships: Can be left blank, optional. For crew, what does she do in the crew, and how much she like the captain for example?
Dreams: What does your character aspire to achieve? Can be anything, like personal motivation
Donnie gaped as the truck transformed into, of all things, a giant robot that, keeping with the Goblin comparisons, would give one of their shredders a run for their money. He had no more time to think about it though as a stream of high-caliber bullets flew in his direction from robot’s giant rotating gun. He managed to avoid the gunfire, but he was already breathing heavily. He had overtaxed his energy reserves, and was running on empty. He’d need to wait for his body to recover before he could cast more spells...which could make grabbing the clown a lot more difficult. He mentally called upon the massive reserves of Elemental Air in the Fists of the Heavens, using the wind currents to enhance his speed, making it much more difficult for Sweet Bot to hit him while he gave himself the time he needed to recover. Thankfully, being a monk, that process would be quick, quicker than a mage’s Mana regeneration for sure...but he’d need the time to do that, and the Fists would allow him to engage in evasive maneuvers while he waited.
“I need to recover!” he shouted to the others, “Try to avoid its attacks until I can cast my magic again! “ He smiled devilishly. “Then the fun starts!”
Fortunately for Din, Sweet Bot seemed to focus on Donnie, leaving her and Gogoat unscathed. But seeing as how Gogoat’s attack merely left a small dent on the side of the truck, Din realized that she should adopt the tactic employed by Donnie; attacking the driver. She was grateful that Donnie had opened up an entrance into the machine, but as Sweet Bot rocketed up into the air, Din found that she had no way to take advantage of it. Two ideas came to mind, both likely to end in failure. Still, there was nothing stopping Din from trying, so at first she cast the Spell of Winter towards Sweet Bot’s rockets, hoping that cooling the flaming jets might disable it and bring it back to the ground. Her other plan involved launching herself up with the help of Gogoat into the robot ice cream truck, but she would hold off on that unless her first attack failed to make an impact.
Try as she might, Din’s spell ended up melting under the flare of Sweet Tooth’s rockets, only slowing it down momentarily as its ice froze over the ports. For his part, the clownish driver scarcely seemed to notice. He sprayed an almost lazy burst of gatling rounds over the scenery, little threat for anyone keeping a close eye on him, before zeroing in on Donnie. Needles went to launch a Laughing Ghost at the disk-borne monk, bound to home in on the monk and blow him to smithereens, only for a sudden jerk to throw off his aim.
Unable to freeze the rockets, Din resorted to her next plan of attack. Riding Gogoat a little further away, she turned back towards Sweet Bot and began accelerating. A certain distance away, Gogoat leapt majestically, and at the height of the Pokemon’s arc, Din stood up and leapt from Gogoat’s back towards the leg of the robot. Din, dressed in red, jumped from her green steed in midair, an action that caused the ghosts of numerous similarly betrayed dinosaurs with long tongues to stir in agitation, but Gogoat managed to land safely back on the ground, and the abandoned spirits settled down.
Poppi appeared from behind the Sweet Bot, planted a solid cross in its chest’s passenger-side windshield that left the glass with a spiderweb crack, and boosted away. Tora, however, stayed behind; the intrepid Nopon leaped down onto the macabre mech and yanked a wrench from his overalls. With practiced hands he began to sabotage the Sweet Bot’s machinery. A moment later, Din herself latched onto the machine, having been flung up onto the low-flying deathbot’s fuselage by her Gogoat companion. The extra weight plus Tora’s hijinx worked to quickly exhaust the Sweet Bot’s fuel supply, and it began to descend. With a snarl, Needles engaged the Sweet Bot’s drop attack, and it plummeted to the earth with a giant slam that shook the ground. Tora leaped from it before it got up to speed, and the ever-attentive Poppi caught him, though the impact jarred the wrench from his wing.
Din, likewise, jumped from the machine even though she had just managed to get on it before it gained too much speed in its drop, landing on Gogoat, who managed to catch her, without injury. Din somewhat resented her wasted effort, but at least the machine was now more-or-less grounded. She rode away, rounding back to face Sweet Bot head on, looking for any new developments.
From the dust, Sweet bot rose, recovering quickly but smoking out the back. A salvo of bullets zipped upward, forcing Poppi to disengage with her cargo.
Donnie gritted his teeth as he called on the Fists, gunning the Disc as far as it would normally go and beyond, as he noticed that the clown-like robot was aiming for him, only to feel a rush of relief as Tora and Poppi threw off its aim. Better yet, he had completely recovered by this point. Now it was time for the main event.
Maintaining his incredible speed, Donnie aimed straight for the hole he had made in Sweet Bot’s cockpit, weaving around any further attacks, and soon he was right next to Needles himself, the Fists sheathed and with his hands directly grabbing Needles’ left arm.
”GET! OUT!” he yelled, as he attempted to bodily haul the killer clown out of the driver’s seat with all of his strength, aided by the fact that Needles wasn’t wearing a seatbelt for some reason, and throw the bastard to the ground below. He kept an eye out for any desperate moves by either Needles or Sweet Bot itself, and would disengage if it looked like he was going to get blindsided.
Through brutish, Needles was no oaf. Donnie’s approach and intrusion did not go unnoticed, and by the time the monk made it inside the cab, the clown was ready. Donnie latched on to his arm, aiming to yank him from the Sweet Bot’s controls, but Needles wasn’t in there for his own safety. With a guttural bellow he swung a viciously-serrated machete at Donnie’s head. If granted even a moment’s leeway, he’d be going for his sawed-off shotgun in the passenger’s seat next, which would mean a terribly messy end for the interloper.
Of course, the interior struggle demanded Needles’ attention, leaving the Sweet Bot itself ambling straight forward without launching any kind of attack.
The clown’s swing was vicious, but it was the wild swing of an untrained street fighter..Lots of power, but little skill. He had seen similar fighters during his stint in the fighting pits of the Brawler’s Guild, and they were usually small-fries who always lost to someone who knew what they were doing. It was a simple matter to dodge the strike, catch Needles in an armlock, and start using the Disc to accelerate rapidly in the opposite direction to Sweet Bot’s jogging.
Now, Needles’ arm was in Donnie’s iron grasp at it was held outstretched, ground ruthlessly against the doorframe of the truck, all the while Donnie continued bending it into an unnatural angle. Considering that Sweet Bot was still jogging forward, as the gap between the two widened, Needles was put in a bad position. If he didn’t do something fast, his arm would at the very least break, and at most might actually end up being torn off at the shoulder. That was unless he allowed himself to be pulled out by the backwards movement, which would result in him hanging onto his enemy’s arm, suspended in the air. Even if he did have his shotgun by this point, it would be faster for the monk to just drop him, and Needles didn’t have the benefit of reflex-enhancing magic to make sure he pulled the trigger first. And that was assuming that Donnie couldn’t outright disarm him in that situation.
Given the cabin’s cramped confines and his foe’s martial prowess, Needles fell prey to his tactic, and couldn’t maintain his position. His grasping fingers closed around his shotgun, but the next moment the monk hauled him bodily from his seat.
Din watched, with some amazement, Donnie’s combat ability. More than that, Din felt as if there was magic in his strikes, though she was unable to place it. It occurred to her that she should ask her teammates what magical elements they used, and test if any of her spells could bolster theirs. But when Donnie managed to force Needles out of the cockpit, Din saw her chance to help. Accelerating, Din rode Gogoat towards the dangling clown. Gogoat jumped making a leaping Horn Leech strike at Needles.
Its horns struck true, tearing into Needles’ exposed flesh before the impact sent both him -and monk with whom he was entangled- tumbling clear of the Sweet Bot. With nobody at the helm to keep it upright, the mech proceeded to trip on an outcropping of rock and topple with a crash; when Needles rose from the dust and spotted what happened, his head blazed viciously. From nowhere he pulled a trio of trip mines, which he scattered around himself before brandishing his shotgun. “Alright, gather round, kiddies. It’s time for you to see how sweet I can be.”
“Not seem sweet.” Poppi cruised in from above, dropping off Tora and handing off her Mech Arms to him before assuming a battle-ready stance behind him. “Poppi think clown not being honest with self.” With a roll of his eyes Tora clanged the metal gauntlets together before heading for Needles himself.
The good news: Donnie’s trick had worked, and Needles was now completely at his mercy, with him able to rise several dozen feet in the air and drop him at a moment’s notice (though the shotgun would’ve had to be dealt with).
The bad news: That lasted for all of five seconds before Din’s Horn Leech, while making a rather satisfying slice into the clown’s flesh, knocked him from the Disc and sent him tumbling to the ground. He let go of Needles in the confusion, who presumably due to Sweet Bot’s relatively short height, had emerged unscathed from the struggle. Donnie tucked and rolled as he hit the ground, mitigating what little damage the impact would have done, while the Disc simply dropped to the ground with no-one to pilot it, hovering off of the miniature cloud on its bottom.
The better news: Thanks to that Horn Leech, the clown was definitively away from his robotic ice-cream truck and wouldn’t be getting inside it anytime soon. And he was bleeding.
However, it wasn’t all fun and games. Apparently, the clown had some kind of magical pocket-dimension or something like the Madman’s Luggage, because he pulled a bunch of what he assumed were more-advanced versions of Goblin Land Mines (by Xuen, why was he able to make so many goblin comparisons today?!) and scattered them on the ground around him...before he brandished his blunderbuss and said...that.
Donnie, under his helmet, stared at him with an incredulously flat expression. “You’re the furthest thing from sweet I’ve ever seen, and I’ve fought the sha.” Quick as a flash, he ran full-tilt over to the nearby Disc, which would only put him in a better position, and hopped on. Then, he fired a Chi Burst downwards towards Needles’ skull as he flew above the grounded clown’s head.
A gravelly guffaw resounded from Needles as Donnie approached. Reaching down with his machete, he slid the tip beneath a landmine before flipping it up into the air with a sudden twist, activating its sensor in the process. The explosive beeped once, then on the next beat blew up right in the monk’s path, negating the predictable Chi Blast and shell-shocking its sender. Donnie’s ill-planned flight path carried him over Needles’ head, who waited with gleeful patience to unleash a deafening shotgun blast straight upward.
He thought that he might pierce the bizarre flying machine, or that the monk’s disc would die a shield, but it proved to be made of sturdy stuff. Yet, that meant that every ounce of force packed by the brutally-modified weapon went to violently throwing Donnie off its surface and to the ground, dazed and confused. Needles moved to finish the fistfighter off, but Tora and Poppi leaped into his way. Before either could say much of anything, the clown had already lobbed a molotov cocktail their way, which shattered against the earth between them in a surge of flame. Poppi dodged sideways, but Tora moved forward. While Needles could scarcely believe that some egg-shaped hamster thing not even half his height was running at him, he wasted no time hacking away at Tora with his machete. Clang after clang rang out as the Nopon blocked his swings, holding out long enough for Poppi to flank Needles with a jet-powered kick to the head. Though staggered for a second, the clown flung his machete at Poppi when she turned to face him, forcing her to block with her arms and take a nasty slice.
Reminding himself to tell Poppi to tag-team properly later, Tora moved in to attack the disarmed clown, only to be taken aback by the roar of a chainsaw. Needles swung it with reckless abandon, its teeth grinding against Tora’s weapons, but in a free second the Nopon slammed the ground with his Mech Arms and rocketed upward. A midair somersault turned into a overhead slam, but even that weighty blow barely seemed to faze the burning killer. Letting go of his chainsaw, Needles grabbed Tora by the hair and kicked him bodily away.
Tora rolled to a stop a moment later, barely avoiding another mine in the process, and Poppi appeared by his side. “This clown no joker!” the Nopon wheezed.
Din was intimidated by the mad clown’s threatening demeanor, and wondered waht those metal plates were that he laid at his feet. But as Donnie went to attack, the clown flipped up one of the plates. The result let Din know that they were bombs of some sort, though seemingly more advanced than anything that was available in Hyrule. But this gave Din an idea as Tora and Poppi kept the monstrous clown at bay. ”Heads up!” Din called out, riding Gogoat into position, placing the mines between herself and Needles. She noticed that he was swinging a mechanical slicing instrument. Gogoat lifted itself up on its hind legs before slamming its fore-hooves down ward, using Rock Slide, and initiating a wave of sand, earth, and stone towards Needles, pushing the mines towards him. Hopefully, this would cause the mines to detonate on the clown, while also jamming up his mechanical cutting machine with sand. Not caring whether the attack connected or not, Din acrobatically leapt off her steed and cart-wheeled over towards Donnie, activating her invigorating dance as she approached him in the hopes of reviving him from his daze and giving him a second wind. It seemed silly, and downright dangerous, to be dancing and healing, completely exposed, but she knew that if Needles came after her, Tora, Poppi, or Gogoat would protect her.
“What!?” Din’s torrent of earth left Needles dumbfounded--just for a moment, but it was long enough. The wave swallowed up the remaining mines before crashing into him, and the next second blew apart in a great plume of sand, stone, and fire. When it subsided into smoke and dust, it left behind a half-buried Needles, burned and bloodied. His head, however, still burned, and when he saw Din dancing for Donnie, he beat his fists against the ground. “I’ve had it with you runts.” In one motion he tore himself from the ground, and from flame a machete appeared in each hand. “Time to die! HRAAAAAGH!”
From his mouth spewed a raging cone of flame, its heatwave distorting the air.
Donnie took a bit to recover from that impact. A lot longer than he used to, in fact, probably because the armor was a lot weaker this time around. Once he stopped seeing stars, he cast Vivify once on himself to heal the remaining mental trauma away before rising and turning to face the threat. He dodged out of the way of the incoming attack, invigorated by Din’s strange dance, as he went in to actually start dealing some serious damage. He was lacking many of his most potent techniques, such as Touch of Fatality, Serenity, or Whirling Dragon Punch, but that was no reason to do nothing. Keeping the Fists sheathed for now, he leapt into action.
Once he had dodged the strike, it was a simple matter to begin fighting Needles toe-to-toe in earnest. He came around from the back, opening with a Tiger Palm to his kidney, then kicked Needles in the spine with a Blackout Kick, and followed that up with a Rising Sun Kick that knocked him up into the air, and finishing up with a relatively-normal axe kick to Needle’s torso while he was still airborne, knocking him down to earth. And with that, he unsheathed his weapons and made to get out of dodge, hopefully before Needles could brutally retaliate, enraged as the killer was. And with Din’s enhancements, that wouldn’t be hard. Of course, he’d be coming back into melee range to let loose with his actual weapons soon enough, but he expected a counterattack first.
Din did not expect Needles could breathe fire. She needed to get out of the way, but as a healer, she couldn’t leave the one she was healing behind to be scorched by the flames. Fortunately, Donnie recovered in time and used some healing magic of his own, so Din rolled out of the way. Meanwhile, Gogoat had been using Bulk Up on itself, pawing its hoof at the ground, readying itself for another attack while Needles was distracted. When Donnie knocked Needles to the ground, Gogoat attacked with another wave of Rock Slide in an attempt to bury the angry clown. Meanwhile, Din ran back to reunite with her pokemon, and looked on, hoping the fight was over, but she was doubtful. Needles seemed strong enough, and crazy enough, to keep going.
Needles’ wounds were piling up. He struggled to get to his feet, a deep noise of pure rage rumbling within him. A molotov appeared in his hand; he shattered it against his mask, bathing himself and the area around him in flame. Gogoat’s Rock Slide bore down on him, and Needles met it with chainsaw in hand. Its screaming teeth flashed in the sunlight as he span, a hurricane of burning steel, and annihilated the stones that threatened to squash his fire. Tora watched the display, wondering why the clown would go to such extreme lengths. Did he feel like he had to utterly crush any challenge that came his way…? The Nopon wasn’t complaining, though. After a workout like that, the overweight psychopath had to be running on fumes. “Poppi, now is chance! Prepare for super double attack!”
The Artificial Blade nodded, grinning. “Understood. All Poppi systems are go.” She grabbed the Mech Arms that Tora through before jetting toward the clearing dust cloud. Needles couldn’t see through the haze, but thanks to his fiery head, she could see him. He moved to lash out with his saw the moment he saw a shape approaching through the dust, but too late. Her spinning punch broke his left elbow, and as Needles reeled from the blow, Poppi delivered an explosive uppercut to his masked jaw that sent him flying upward. From behind his partner, Tora leaped onto her shoulders, grabbed the Mech Arms, and was promptly hurled after the brutalized clown. “Meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-meeeh!” Tora landed punch after punch as he ascended, his trajectory following Needles’ closely, until after final smack he opened up the Mech Arms to pelt his foe with a swarm of missiles. With a hellish cry the killer disappeared in a terrific blast.
A burning husk hurtled toward the ground, bounced twice, and rolled to a stop. For the briefest of moments, the smoldering mass held its shape, as though death itself couldn’t stop the twisted clown. Then it crumbled to ash, leaving only a spirit behind.
Tora landed a moment later, having used the Mech Arms’ blasts to slow his fall. With the fight concluded, his put his weapons away, though Poppi remained in her new form. Both regarded Needles’ spirit dubiously. “Wanted to try new powers,” Tora said, “But that too dangerous. Not want crazy hell clown in head.”
Nodding sagaciously, Poppi patted Tora’s stomach. “Plus, probably make Masterpon even rounder. If such thing possible.”
Aghast, Tora could only sputter for a moment before crying, “S-so disrespectful! How could Poppi exaggerate Tora’s roundness like that!? M-must have circuit crossed somewhere, meh.”
So I've had this in my subscribed threads for a while, but I've been a bit nervous about joining. I wanted to ask you a question first before I applied.
How much do I need to know of the source material to do well in this game? I've watched the anime somewhat, but I only got up to the Buggy's Revenge arc before I lost steam, and there is a lot of material in One Piece to get through.
I think that's everyone involved in the Sweet Tooth fight, not counting the GM. I was thinking we could collab out our part of the encounter, as I think it would make things quicker, more efficient, and more cinematic. I can set up a Google Doc if you guys want.
Also, I'm not sure what part of the battle @Lmpkio is going for (and he's confirmed on the Discord that he's still interested and actively working on a post) so I'm tagging him to see if he wants in.
Word Count: 764 Level 2 - (4/20) + 2 = 6/20 EXP Location: Random Scrubland
In spite of Donnie missing most of his shots, those cars clearly weren't equipped to go up against all of the firepower his allies had brought to bear. He cracked a grin as the two remaining cars turned tail and drove away...only to grimace as three new cars arrived on the scene. Some sort of demented ice-cream truck out of a goblin's worst nightmares, a buggy of some kind, and an absolutely brutal-looking...what the hell even was that thing? He'd honestly never seen a car with wheels that big.
He didn't get to think more than that before he was cut off by a hail of high-caliber bullets heading his way. "Shit!" he yelled, swerving out of the firing path, barely dodging the tightly-grouped burst of fire.
Unfortunately, he also heard the loud cracking and splintering of wood nearby. Craning his neck to the flying doll, he could tell that Geno hadn't been so lucky. Thinking fast, he cast Vivify thrice in rapid succession. Donnie's hands flashed with a magical light for each cast. The signature green mist emerged around Geno's body, the wood around the three bullets' entry and exit wounds regrowing rapidly before completely closing, the internal damage completely repaired as Donnie's body felt a bit drained from that.
Geno's body may have been made of dead wood, but at the very least it was organic. Unlike holy healing, chi healing had worked on the likes of free-willed undead before. A wooden puppet would probably heal just the same: If Vivify could heal dead flesh, it could heal dead plant matter too. The main downside was that a Windwalker's chi magic was cast from the body's stamina, not from its Mana like most magic. And Donnie wasn't exactly as spry as he normally was. After the ten Chi Bursts and three Vivifies, he was already feeling his heart pound, and sweat run down his brow. He would need to conserve his strength if at all possible, and use his abilities in bursts.
He gritted his teeth as he gunned the Disc to its top speed, fully on-guard as he planned his next move at a breakneck pace. He and Geno were high-priority targets for that guy on the turret, and whoever was at the controls of that thing was good. They had led Donnie properly, compensating for both the Disc's velocity and the velocity of the monster truck. They probably would've scored at least one direct hit if Donnie was a little less agile, and with his armor's magic sealed, he didn't want to test its durability if he could help it.
He glanced below, seeing the ice-cream truck fire some kind of demonic fireball at Bowser as Linkle detonated it prematurely. There. That guy at the wheel was his best chance. If he could get onto the ice-cream truck's body, the other vehicles would have to risk hitting their ally to take him out. And if he could get the driver into melee range, he wouldn't be able to drive either, let alone aim.
Of course, this plan assumed that this bunch of killers would care about their ally. But he had to take that risk.
Descending to near ground level, Donnie came up alongside the ice-cream truck and unloaded five more Chi Bursts (a bit more slowly than previously to conserve his strength) into the driver's side door of Sweet Tooth, getting a good look at the driver inside. A large, burly man wearing a deranged-looking clown mask, its features twisted into a demented grin. And the man's head was on fire, but he didn't seem to care. And judging by the truck's weapons, the man probably had a talent for the demonic.
And besides that, the man seemed to radiate an aura of sadism, murder, and death. Donnie could practically feel the clown's sheer killing intent from here. And this...thing was going to turn that murderous intent on his allies.
In response to such a foul creature, Donnie could only mete out the punishment that the clown probably had coming by this point. If the Chi Bursts made contact (which would probably blow off the door), he'd make to bodily grab the clown and throw him out of the vehicle, opening him up for more punishment and depriving the clown of his main asset. Of course, there was the chance that the truck might swerve to hit him, which was why Donnie had made sure to fly about twenty feet away from it to its left, giving him more time to dodge.
Izurich
Mixtape Ghost N
