Character Chats Are Fun

Alyx: I groaned. "Really? Drama? Here? Now?"

Jelsa Mepsey wrote:Alyx: I groaned. "Really? Drama? Here? Now?"

"Could be worse! You should be glad Teacup isn't here right now."

Ezra: I think we can handle it...
Liz: No need for fights.
Andrew: But who doesn't enjoy a good fight every now and then?

Skipper cracks sixteen knuckles at the same time. "I know I do. Breaking stuff never gets old."

Ezra: Agreed.
Andrew: *Tilts head*How we gonna do this? The easy way or the hard way?

"I wasn't actually suggesting we fight, but if you're offering..." She cocks the carbine with her lower pair of hands, draws a knife with her other right hand, and pulls a grenade from her belt with her other left hand. "Just a bit of fun, eh?" She grins and performs a motion that would be tossing her hair, if she had any hair.

Ezra: *With one flick of his finger freezes dan* There. That'll make it easier. *grins wickedly*
Andrew: *Cracks knuckles* Let's do this.
Liz: Guys?

"One quick question: Who is fighting who, again?"

Andrew: Really?!
Ezra: *sighs* Who cares? Let's go all out war!

"You know what? I'll even the odds." Skipper drops the carbine, sheaths the dagger and drops the grenade back into its pouch. Then, in one swift movement she flips forwards and lands behind Ezra, utilising all of her limbs to turn at incredible speed. She leaps forwards, all four arms outstretched. "Block this, two-arms!"

Ezra: *Rather bored. Flicks finger and freezes her* Blocked you.
Andrew: Isn't that cheating?

(Do you mind if I bring in another character? You know just to even the odds somewhat.)
In her last moment of freedom, Skipper raises the glove on her upper left hand to her mouth, and shouts "TEACUP!"

(((SURE!)))

Name: Drezka Firith, aka Teacup.

Race: Modark (Galaxicon name).

Gender: Male.

Appearance: Approximately nine feet high and six feet wide, a Modark is a fearsome creature, covered in thick knobbly armour, like that of an ankylosaurus. With wide, solid black eyes, and short thick tusks, Modark look entirely unfriendly, although they are actually incredibly polite. This is probably because any altercation could potentially end in bloodshed, so most Modark societies go to great lengths to prevent such a thing happening. Modark are generally creamy-coloured, a colour somewhere between pale human skin and well-worn bone. They are well-adapted to deserts, although they are happy living anywhere, as they are extremely tough and hardy. However, they are not very dextrous, as their fingers are quite thick and short.

Description: Teacup’s armour is naturally capable of turning aside blunt blades and small-arms fire, but to supplement it even further, he wears a set of ornate ritual combat armour that allows him to survive a direct hit from light artillery. Despite being a mighty warrior, Teacup is in fact employed first and foremost as a translator, as he is knowledgeable in the languages and customs of the nine most common races in the galaxy, as well as many other less common languages and rituals. He speaks Galaxicon, Q-Anglish, Nuska, Modark (Ytric), Modark (Skalla), Hoort, and more.

Teacup appears behind them, kneeling down in a flash of light, but the first Ezra knows of it is when the blow connects with the small of his back. Pound for pound its like being hit by a car. "Your hospitality is most unconventional!" he roars.

Ezra: *Knocked back but regains balence* *Delivers a quick round house kick to the jaw and as soon as the kick hits jumps back* Bring it!

Teacup doesn't notice a puny human roundhouse kick to the face, and swings the gun again, using it like a club. It's so large that it would take three normal men to lift it, but Teacup swings it in one hand. Clearly his name is misleading. "I am underwhelmed by your knowledge of protocol in matters of negotiation," he growls.

Ezra: *Dodges the club attack* *Reasorts to mind torture, finds most painful memories*




((P.S. Mind Torture can cause physical pain and can cause a person to go insane IF tortured too much. Victim relives painful memories. Level is changed based on the memories.))

Rage overwhelms the Modark's armour-clad brain altogether at the memories welling up. He lets out a roar of rage and frustration and charges towards Ezra, smashing trees aside like matchwood. In the confusion, Skipper has unfrozen, and leaps through the air, landing directly behind Ezra. the first he knows of it is a blade pressed gently against his neck. A bead of blood runs down the blade. "Let's just calm down for a second, shall we?" Skipper wraps her three spare arms around Ezra, locking his arms in place. "Now stop doing whatever it is you're doing, or Teacup will kill us both."

Ezra: Fine. *He says angerly and reluctantly releases*
Andrew: *chuckles* Mind if I have a go?

Teacup stops running and looks confused. He spots Skip apparently hugging a human. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I didn't realise that this was such a... delicate situation."
Skipper lets go of Ezra. "Sorry about the prick. And I'm not talking about the cut, either!" She chuckles. "I kid. But I have one question. How're we meant to combat a ghost?"

((Sorry, must be off))

Andrew: Ha. That's the fun of it.
Ezra: If you were talking about mine being an unfair fight yours is worse.

((Aw Bye))

Alyx: "Who's Teacup?"

(Sorry I keep popping in and out...you guys post fast.)