07-18-2011, 02:12 AM
Hey guys! Site looks cool, hope everything is ok.
Name: Razz
Age: 23
Race: Falconoid (Generic*)
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Vigilante
Fighting Style: “Go big or go home!” Razz has a combat preference that can border on...well...excessive. A graduate of the Intergalactic Law Enforcement Academy he's been well versed in hand to hand action but much more enthusiastically holds a special place in his heart for ranged weapons, guns, rockets, bombs, explosives and generally anything that goes BOOM! Needless to say, collateral damage doesn't cross the falconoid's mind much.
Short Bio: Born to wealthy parents on the avian planet of Nestle, Razz lead a pampered and entitled youth. With the silver spoon of the upper class firmly within his beak the young falconoid spent his early years receiving the finest education money could buy. The spoils of inheritance quickly grew tiresome to the feathered fighter though. He just didn't find fulfillment in living off someone elses money. In-spite of all luxuries endowed upon him throughout his childhood Razz grew into a simplistic, frankly sometimes even crude, teen.
At the age of 17 Razz shocked his family by dropping out of his senior year of school and joining the Intergalactic Law Enforcement Academy. The excitement and glory offered in a career of law enforcement seemed the perfect receipt to quell the avian's restlessness. As a student he fell in love with his work and excelled. His instincts were sharp and his field work outstanding, he quickly graduated near the top of his class. As an officer in the line of duty though Razz was a failure. He was confined to procedures and limited by rank, he didn't take orders and he never meshed well with any of his partners. A mere year into the service Razz unceremoniously turned in his badge(with a definitive “Fuck you! And have a nice day!”).
Even after his bad experiences as an officer the lust for adventure and glory still burned within the avian fighter. Razz knew crime fighting was his calling in life so he decided....if he couldn't work within the system he'd simply work around it. With the same vigor that helped him excel in the academy the inspired avian sought out a new line of work, vigilantism.
With a small start up sum 'borrowed' from his family Razz now operates as a top notch hero for hire. Chasing down the most wanted and dangerous criminals in the galaxy, protecting people in need, and serving his universal community in any capacity he can.
...he also really likes his whiskey.
General Description:
![[Image: Falco_Screenshot_SSBM.jpg]](http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100314011043/starfox/images/d/df/Falco_Screenshot_SSBM.jpg)
A member of the falconoid race Razz is a mix of human and bird. Possessing a humanoid frame his basic bodily structure is identical to an earthling but his obvious avian heritage contributes to his thick blue feathered coat, his long narrow beak and occasional tendency of instinctual squawking.
He is tall and lanky, measuring in at an above average 6'2” but barely tipping the scales at 160 pounds. He generally dresses for function, usually wearing loose fitting clothes to conceal weaponry and easy mobility.
Starting Abilities: Martial Arts Specialization & Survival
Trait: Tenacious
Stats:
Strength - 35%
Focus - 1%
Endurance - 29%
Agility - 35%
Role-play Sample:
With a hollow knock he placed the empty shot glass down onto the bar, the stinging liquid still washing down the back of his throat. “That's three bucks kid.” the bartender raised his pinky, ring and middle fingers into the air as he tried to speak over the buzz of the crowd.
With a refreshed 'aahhh' Razz swallowed the last of the liquor and cleared his throat. “Just open up a tab.”
Baseball cap pulled down over his face the avian fighter leaned back into his chair and blended into the crowd as well as any giant blue bird could hope to blend. Luckily he knew people weren't very observant at shit holes like this. Alcohol and dingy lighting made for great camouflage and Razz knew he'd so far gone completely undetected.
A few peripheral eyed sweeps of the bar revealed pretty much exactly the expected. A bunch of low lives, a few thugs arguing over dick size, some drunks and a parade of skanky looking woman any sober man wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. But luckily in plain sight right in front of the jukebox stood the reason Razz was there.
His name was Hanson and one look told you he was the biggest douche in the bar. He was a gangly kid with an undeserved air of accomplishment. His frail frame swam in a sea of oversized 'gansta' clothes, glitzy chains and crosses dangled from his neck in an attempt at establishing his status, his hair had too much gel in it, his teeth had a hue of yellow gleaming from them and a dumb look on his face made it all too obviously he'd had one to many drinks tonight. Oh yeah....he was white trash.
The avian fighter flagged over the bartender and order another shot. He hated being in such a shit hole, but it was what it was. He was out of leads and starting again from the bottom was the only thing left to do.
Knocking back the shot with a grimace Razz dropped the empty glass onto the bar again then lowered his gaze back on target. Mmmhmm.... while cracking the knuckles on his right hand he got up from his stool and began a b-line to the unsuspecting kid. It was time for some interrogation and hopefully time for some new leads.
------------
Yup yup yup. Whada' doo?
Name: Razz
Age: 23
Race: Falconoid (Generic*)
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Vigilante
Fighting Style: “Go big or go home!” Razz has a combat preference that can border on...well...excessive. A graduate of the Intergalactic Law Enforcement Academy he's been well versed in hand to hand action but much more enthusiastically holds a special place in his heart for ranged weapons, guns, rockets, bombs, explosives and generally anything that goes BOOM! Needless to say, collateral damage doesn't cross the falconoid's mind much.
Short Bio: Born to wealthy parents on the avian planet of Nestle, Razz lead a pampered and entitled youth. With the silver spoon of the upper class firmly within his beak the young falconoid spent his early years receiving the finest education money could buy. The spoils of inheritance quickly grew tiresome to the feathered fighter though. He just didn't find fulfillment in living off someone elses money. In-spite of all luxuries endowed upon him throughout his childhood Razz grew into a simplistic, frankly sometimes even crude, teen.
At the age of 17 Razz shocked his family by dropping out of his senior year of school and joining the Intergalactic Law Enforcement Academy. The excitement and glory offered in a career of law enforcement seemed the perfect receipt to quell the avian's restlessness. As a student he fell in love with his work and excelled. His instincts were sharp and his field work outstanding, he quickly graduated near the top of his class. As an officer in the line of duty though Razz was a failure. He was confined to procedures and limited by rank, he didn't take orders and he never meshed well with any of his partners. A mere year into the service Razz unceremoniously turned in his badge(with a definitive “Fuck you! And have a nice day!”).
Even after his bad experiences as an officer the lust for adventure and glory still burned within the avian fighter. Razz knew crime fighting was his calling in life so he decided....if he couldn't work within the system he'd simply work around it. With the same vigor that helped him excel in the academy the inspired avian sought out a new line of work, vigilantism.
With a small start up sum 'borrowed' from his family Razz now operates as a top notch hero for hire. Chasing down the most wanted and dangerous criminals in the galaxy, protecting people in need, and serving his universal community in any capacity he can.
...he also really likes his whiskey.
General Description:
A member of the falconoid race Razz is a mix of human and bird. Possessing a humanoid frame his basic bodily structure is identical to an earthling but his obvious avian heritage contributes to his thick blue feathered coat, his long narrow beak and occasional tendency of instinctual squawking.
He is tall and lanky, measuring in at an above average 6'2” but barely tipping the scales at 160 pounds. He generally dresses for function, usually wearing loose fitting clothes to conceal weaponry and easy mobility.
Starting Abilities: Martial Arts Specialization & Survival
Trait: Tenacious
Stats:
Strength - 35%
Focus - 1%
Endurance - 29%
Agility - 35%
Role-play Sample:
With a hollow knock he placed the empty shot glass down onto the bar, the stinging liquid still washing down the back of his throat. “That's three bucks kid.” the bartender raised his pinky, ring and middle fingers into the air as he tried to speak over the buzz of the crowd.
With a refreshed 'aahhh' Razz swallowed the last of the liquor and cleared his throat. “Just open up a tab.”
Baseball cap pulled down over his face the avian fighter leaned back into his chair and blended into the crowd as well as any giant blue bird could hope to blend. Luckily he knew people weren't very observant at shit holes like this. Alcohol and dingy lighting made for great camouflage and Razz knew he'd so far gone completely undetected.
A few peripheral eyed sweeps of the bar revealed pretty much exactly the expected. A bunch of low lives, a few thugs arguing over dick size, some drunks and a parade of skanky looking woman any sober man wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. But luckily in plain sight right in front of the jukebox stood the reason Razz was there.
His name was Hanson and one look told you he was the biggest douche in the bar. He was a gangly kid with an undeserved air of accomplishment. His frail frame swam in a sea of oversized 'gansta' clothes, glitzy chains and crosses dangled from his neck in an attempt at establishing his status, his hair had too much gel in it, his teeth had a hue of yellow gleaming from them and a dumb look on his face made it all too obviously he'd had one to many drinks tonight. Oh yeah....he was white trash.
The avian fighter flagged over the bartender and order another shot. He hated being in such a shit hole, but it was what it was. He was out of leads and starting again from the bottom was the only thing left to do.
Knocking back the shot with a grimace Razz dropped the empty glass onto the bar again then lowered his gaze back on target. Mmmhmm.... while cracking the knuckles on his right hand he got up from his stool and began a b-line to the unsuspecting kid. It was time for some interrogation and hopefully time for some new leads.
------------
Yup yup yup. Whada' doo?
.
![[Image: VictoriaJuly.jpg]](http://rpnexus.com/sig/miscsig/VictoriaJuly.jpg)
![[Image: ManSoldWorld.png]](http://rpnexus.com/sig/UG/ManSoldWorld.png)
![[Image: Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png)
![[Image: Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Recent%20Signatures/Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png)