I'm calling you out Zesper.
Your rocking guitar solos shall clash with my horrid skills.
These fights are all the rage these days.
You're new, and you're good.
Let's fight, no stakes.
By the way, I'm adopting you.

I'll be using Daryl Gordan I think. I'll go get the profile later today, I have to go.
Do you care about where we fight? I don't want somewhere too traditional, so maybe someplace unorthodox like a mountain setting or something of the sort.


EDIT:
Username: Kerim
Name: Daryl Gordan
Age: 26
Class: Wyvern Rider
Appearance: Daryl is a tall man, at around 6' 6". He has a scrawny build, but his muscles are well toned. Sports about 1.5 feet of dark hair, the bangs messily hanging over his eyes and face. Usually has dark bags under his eyes, from lack of sleep. His irises are a light shade of brown, although they look darker by the shadow cast on them by his air and thick brows. He has high cheekbones, with rounded ears. His chin is small, and he has a fairly pointed nose. He wears a thin, thread undershirt, with sleeves that come to a small cuff on the wrist. Over this he wears a thin metal plate, hardly offering much protection. His shoulder armor is strapped to his torso by leather strips. He has worn, dusty leather pants, and boots that sport metal toes. Often wears a leather coat over everything, as it gets rather cold in high altitudes. A gold-plated necklace hangs around his scrawny neck.
His armor are 2 metal plates, less than half of an inch thick.. There is one on both sides of his his torso. The one on the front, is constantly being battered, and is full of dents and the edges are rusted on both pieces. He has shoulder armor of the same thickness, loosely attached to the rest. He also has metal knee pads, strapped by leather wrapped around his pant legs. He wears boots with cast iron spurs, made by himself. The boots have a metal tip attached to the leather, as the iron spurs made it hard to balance. These heavy boots can be hard to lift.
His wyvern is a fairly large size, with a wingspan of around 30 feet. The mount is of a maroon color, with a dark leather saddle on his back. This has a spot for a lance, and several bags attached to it, for quick storage. These bags carry mostly his axe and containers of various alcoholic beverages. The tail of the wyvern sports a poisoned metal tip on it. His yellowed teeth are sharpened, and the edges of his wings are torn, from rough adventures alone in the wild. The stomach of the mount is covered in scars and scratches from fights with other wyverns or from flying low through thick brush. His claws are tipped with cast iron, giving his scratch an extra "oomph". He wears a metal head guard with a spike on the end, poisoned like the tail. His eyes are a knowing shade of green. His ears come to a small point.
Personality: Daryl is a very upbeat person. Fairly laid back, he likes nothing more than to flaunt his flying ability to everyone he meets. Can be serious if need be, and often drifts into deep thought. He can have a dark sense of humor, and tries to smile through everything, believing everything is much easier to achieve with a smile on your face. His view on the world is fairly optimistic, and he has a passionate hate for pessimists and bandits. His thoughts are often plagued with bad memories, but he manages to keep a smile throughout. He is an extrovert, and doesn't have a problem with talking with new people. He also is very charismatic. While he appears to be fairly arrogant, he still respects other people, and doesn't think of himself high above them.
Biography:He was born of a young couple, and was never thought to be anything special. As a young boy, he lived in a small town. His parents were humble farmers, and he took up the job. He always was helping someone. He used to hunt for the local meat keep, for money, and his preferred weapon was an axe he had found in the barn. He began with small rabbits, afraid to hunt for anything more, but the demand for meat grew higher, and he grew to tackle larger prey. At 17 he had gone into the woods looking for small game, but he came across a fierce grizzly. He tried to avoid combat, but the creature seemed to be intent on taking his life. The struggle was long. He was attacked viciously, and barely managed to bring down his axe on the bear's head, bringing the fatal blow. Carrying the dead carcass of the creature, he came back to the small town. Ravaged, but alive. The bear had eaten away at his skin in various places. His father was incredibly proud. This same day, a group of wyvern riders passed through the town. Fascinated, the young man had come to investigate.
He endured the long walk to the group, and was simply filled to the brim with excitement. He had pulled out of his hospital bed and dragged his injured body to where the meeting was. The boy asked them all kinds of questions, asking how old he had to be to join, how to take care of the wyverns, and if it was easy to ride them. He was told he had to be 18, and was given a small tutorial on how to take care of and ride one. He decided that the day he turned 18, he would join this group. On his eighteenth birthday, the group of wyvern riders returned, their beasts soaring just as gracefully as they had months before. His bags were packed, and after a tearful goodbye to his father, he left the little town to join them. The boy's senses were honed on his training. His body was strengthened, and his morals were changed. He gained a respect for life, and knew the He learned quickly, and quickly became an experienced rider. His travels took him to faraway lands, to tackle the enemy. His mind was completely set on becoming the best. Daryl did so. His skills had become unmatched after the two years he spent in the corps. He returned to his village after his term, and came to the sight of burning wood, the whole village in flames. His father had died in the raid, it seemed to have happened just moments before. He cursed himself for not being faster. He left the group of wyverns, and traveled by himself, in grief. His only companion was his faithful mount. The two became even closer, and the bond shared by them is now unfathomable. He often thought of his father, but his grief continues to weaken to this day. The hole in his heart will never fully heal however. He continues to wander the land, occasionally stopping at villages to get a warm meal and a roof over his head for a night.

Well, well, well... This is sudden. ... Fine, I accept your challenge. I will be using "Zesper Valhallen the Plant Groove" from the RP "Maximum Groove".

How about we fight in a subway station? I've always wanted a fight to take place there.

This was my first character, so he's not all that... How should I put it... "polished".

Name: Zesper Valhallen
Age:21
Groove Type: Wood/Plants
Groovy Weapon: VemShred: A over-sized battle scythe. It has a slightly curved handle, with a long blade with a pink tint. Vines grow around where the handle and blade meet. It has an eye at the center of those vines, meaning it has a mind of it's own. It can be thrown like a boomerang and will always come back to it's owner. Nobody else can hold it.
Skills: Zesper has the ability to fuse himself with, or control plant life. He is able to make plants move and grow at his will. He prefers not to move much, instead breaking down his body into flower petals And reforms them at his destination of choice. But he is very fast with his giant scythe when need be. Very flexible and acrobatic, Zesper is deadly at close combat. His moves are often described as break dancing. He also uses a wide variety of poisons and hallucinogens, which he infects his opponents with by throwing needles. He has restrictions however. Like plants, he uses sunlight for power and literally wilts if he does not get water. Not a big fan of the dark. Also, being very light, he can be blown off by the wind. CAUTION: FLAMMABLE.
Personality: Very breezy and chill, Zesper isn't one that can get mad easily. Even in tight situations, Zesper will make light of things, and is very sarcastic. He usually uses his powers to avoid fights, not start them.
Appearance: Very tall at 6.6" and very skinny, you could call him a stick man and not be exaggerating. Though skinny, he does have a six pack which he tends to brag about often. He has pinkish-blond shaggy hair down to his neck, and has very pale skin. His eye color is pink, and out of embarrassment, he wears big half sunglasses, half goggles to cover up his eyes. (He refers to them as "Gloggles".) Zesper wears a unbuttoned trench-coat which has two straps at the chest that cross, forming an X that hold the coat on him, black bell-bottomed pants, black platform disco shoes, a studded belt, no shirt, and a chain around his neck that holds a vile of mysterious liquid.
Bio: Zesper Valhallen, just got kicked out of college when he "mysteriously" caused all the plants in the greenhouse to grow out of control, causing the destruction of half the college campus. Even if there was no proof linking him to the incident besides the the fact that he was the only one in the greenhouse at the time, he was still layed off. So he spends his time doing odd jobs so he can pay his rent. He only eats meat, because of his fondness for plant life. He often refers to them as his "Beauties". Zesper gets his odd name from the result of both his parents being hippies.
Others: He may not look it, but Zesper is the master of disco and break dancing. He will never turn down a dance-off, especially if there is a prize involved. One of his pastimes is playing his guitar out on the street for money. He has a pet cactus named Spot back at his apartment.

Anyhow, I like the idea of a subway station. Wait, just the station? Or, rather on the subway trains? Jumping from train to train, you know, the works?

EDIT: Yeah, Daryl's not all too polished either. One of my first.

Yep, the subway station, and the subways themselves. I can't wait to jump from a balcony onto an oncoming subway. Yep, wyverns, plant grooves, and all the trimmings.

...Seems kinda confined for a wyvern and its rider don't cha think? I'm not quite sure if that will work. Also, my wyvern is now a vegetarian. Just for this fight.

The stations are plenty big, sporting glass roofs and plenty of wing space. Now the subway tunnels... that's going to be a challenge.





Wait, wait, wait... A vegetarian?!

[[Incredibly long bios are incredibly long, Kerim.]]

viewtopic.php?f=23&t=693&start=0

Also, of course he's a vegetarian! He enjoys eating plant life.

[[Yeah, but that's a bio in the BIO SECTION, where you are encouraged to put as much as possible, not at the beginning of an RP. Meh, just saying.]]

Yeah, thanks for doing so.

Anyways, let's get this rock rollin', shall we?

IC:

The building was unlike anything the boy's eyes had ever been laid upon. The tallest tower in the metropolis reached higher than the pair could fly. What fascinated him most however, was the smaller building next to it, with tunnels that seemed to reach under the earth. The idea was astounding. The writing on the sign loudly announced its message, the bold red letters caught his attention. The language was incomprehensible to his eyes. The boy never had learned to read any language other than the body language his eyes were naturally keen to spot. The wings on his mount lowered their flapping speed as the two approached the ground. The wind under the wyvern's wings was thrust towards the ground, creating a fast draft that traveled the surface with each flap. Finally, the sound of metal-clad claws hitting concrete resounded through the dreary fall air. Daryl dismounted and led his friend into the building.

Daryl covered his eyes as he took his first step into the fancily furnished building. The light from the large chandelier illuminated the whole area without fail. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he surveyed his surroundings. There was little in the room save what seemed to be an information kiosk, and a few pieces of darkly conditioned furniture. The place looked as if it was just built, as nothing was disturbed, and everything seemed to shine. He lifted his head to see the most interesting thing in the room. Up a small set of stairs, there appeared to be a machine of some sort, moving blindingly fast at first, then coming to a screeching halt just before the railings. Compartments opened up, and Daryl looked inside to see that each side of the machine had seats, and at the front there was what looked as if it was operating equipment. The boy knew almost nothing about machines, so he stepped back, frightened by. Suddenly, the doors slammed shut before his eyes and it picked up speed again. The train started to depart the area in which he was standing. He stood in awe of it as it went down, under the city. He was simply amazed by what he had just seen. An idea quickly formed in his noggin, and he performed a quick turn, mounted his wyvern again, and came upon the final decision to explore the large tunnel. He thought the issue needed further explaining. There was plenty of room at the top of the tunnel for he and his mount, with no fear of getting hit by the contraption. Without further hesitance, the two left the polished floor, and were soon soaring down the dark underground abyss. The experience of flying through the unknown tunnels was simply exuberant. No illumination met his eyes as the wings of the wyvern continued beating faster and faster. He was enveloped in simple bliss as the two partners glided, not knowing who or what awaited them at the end of their journey.

Zesper shuffled his way down the leaf-filled sidewalk, his hands stuffed into his pockets, staring down at his feet. Everybody around him seemed to be doing the same. Today was a blank, windy, autumn day and Zesper was taking the subway to visit his friend on the other side of town. As he walked past the park, he stared up solemnly at the half-bare trees. "God, I hate fall..." He thought to himself as a single yellow leaf fluttered past him. Soon he came to a set of stairs leading up to a building with a sign over the doorway, that read in big bold red letters: "Subway Station". With a long, exaggerated sigh, he jogged up the stairs, his coattails flapping in the wind. When Zesper got to the top, he swung open the front entrance door and stepped inside.

The first thing Zesper noticed when he stepped inside, was the lonely chandelier that hung right in the center of the building that filled the room with light. The next thing that he noticed was that the room was completely and utterly empty, spare a line of snack vendors st the far corner of the entrance. The sight of food made Zesper realize how hungry he was. With the speed of a gold metal track runner, he sprinted over to the machines to see if he could get anything to eat. He pressed his face up against the glass and had the expression of a three year old as he stared at all the food. But as soon as he whipped out his wallet, his expression of glee turned to dismay as he realized he only had 16 cents, not nearly enough to get anything. Just as he was about to walk away defeated, an idea popped into his head. He looked around the empty room to make sure no one was watching, then he stuck his arm up the drop out hole. Soon the vendor was filled with vines that shot out from Zesper's sleeve and were snatching up all the food items in it. Except for the raisins, Zesper hated raisins. A few minutes later, he was walking down the hallway that led to the subways, pockets filled to the brim with food, and a content smile on his face. Soon he found himself in the dark, damp tunnels where subways stopped to pick up their busy passengers. Zesper glanced up at a antique wall clock that hung by a bench. "I still got time to kill before my sub gets here..." He selected a bench that didn't seem to have any sort of liquid on it, and plopped down. There he sat slumped down, fiddling with the chain around his neck. Suddenly, a fluorescent light bulb that lit the part of the tunnel he was in, sparked, and went out. Zesper sprang up out of his seat in surprise, the bags of food flew from his pockets and scattered onto the ground. Out of the confusion, Zesper's sunglasses had fallen off his head. He groped around in the dark for them. Just then, he slipped on a bag of chips, and with a yell, fell face-first onto the subway tracks.

A sharp scream pierced the silence. Daryl's ears caught the echo, while the masculine scream continued down the ill illuminated tunnel. The noise had first sounded at the crown of the tunnel. The young man dug his spurs into the sides of his wyvern, and pulled the mount around. The light at the top of the tunnel was out, and he could see nothing but complete and utter darkness. He noted that the light was no longer shining, and came upon the conclusion that whomever turned out the light also caused the man to scream. Believing that he was in peril, Daryl pushed his spurs in further, and the two flew up to meet the man. His feelings of heroism were crushed when all that awaited him at the crest was a sole man, lying on the tracks. He seemed to be clutching his head with one hand, and was flailing around the floor with the other, apparently looking for something. Daryl pulled the mount to a half just before colliding with the man. As the boy pulled to the ground, he lifted his axe out of a pouch on his saddle. "Was it you had wailed moments ago?" he asked, pointing the blunt top of his axe at the man. His eyes narrowed, as he glared at the man, unsure if he was a threat or not. At this point, it looked to be the latter. He came to the arrogant decision that the strangely dressed man lying on the subway tracks was below him, figuratively and literally. "It matters not, I have come to explore, and nothing else." he stated plainly, then put his axe back in the small bag. He and his mount lifted up into the air, then as he looked down the tunnel they hadn't descended in, he saw two lights, far away, and strangely enough, they appeared to be getting bigger. His eyes widened, as he realized that it was the machine from before, and if he didn't move, it would hit him dead on. Before he knew it, the talons of his wyvern were wrapped around the man, and they ascended to the top of the tunnel. Daryl leaned over the side of his mount, and looked at the man with a smirk plastered on his face. "We're not through here yet." he said with a sharp nod. "Not even close."

The machine loudly pressed through below him, just missing the face of the body carried in the talons. Daryl cupped his hands around his ears, disliking the sudden intensity of the sound. Shortly after doing so, the machine's last cart had departed his presence, and he gave out a sigh of relief. However, there was still the matter of what he would do with the bizarre man his friend still held. He told the wyvern to grab him with his mouth, and surely enough, the teeth of his mount were soon deeply wedged in the man's trench coat, not touching skin. The wyvern attempted to pull the man up, with limited success.

The hit from the subway rail left Zesper dazed and confused. Holding his hand to his head, he stumbled around on all fours, (or all threes, for those of you who are counting) trying to figure out where he landed. "Ugh... where did I land?" groaned Zesper. "And where are my gloggles? Those things cost me like, five bucks!" He crawled around, feeling for his sunglasses for a few more minutes. Just when he thought he found them, a odd noise reached his ears; a heavy... flapping of wings...

Suddenly, another noise sounded out; claws digging into concrete. The lights were out, so he couldn't get a good view of what just made that noise, but judging by how loud it was, it was extremely close. Then he heard the sound of boots on gravel. Just then, he felt something prodding his back. Zesper whirled around as fast as he could for being on the ground, and met an axe pointed right at his face. Given the lack of lighting, Zesper couldn't make out what was holding the axe, but whatever was holding it had the outline of a very tall man. Then he noticed something behind the figure, there was something massive behind the man, it appeared to be some sort of monster, it's green eyes pierced the darkness. Then the man spoke... but his words were unidentifiable, he spoke in another language, and had a thick accent. "Man, my day is getting worse and worse by the second..." muttered Zesper to himself. Then, as if heaven opened up, the tunnel filled with blinding light, and Zesper got his first good look at the mystery silhouettes. The man with the axe was about Zesper's height, and sported leather coat with pieces of armor fitted around his body here and there. He had long, dark hair, and bags under his eyes. "Looks like this guy watches too many late-night movies. ... But then again, he looks like he's never even seen a T.V." Then his gaze shifted the the beast. It appeared to be some sort of dragon... thingy. It was a beautiful dragon-thingy at that, it was maroon colored, and was well protected by metal plating on it's head. It looked like it got into lots of fights too, judging by the scars on it's body, and the cast iron claws. Suddenly, the Man's eyes grew large, and a look of panic crossed his face. He quickly jumped onto the over-sized lizard and shouted out an order to the beast. "I wonder what their rush is..." Zesper pondered. But no sooner did he wonder, the dragon-thingy turned around, snatched up the startled pink-haired man in it's talons, and took to flight, racing down the tunnel with Zesper in tow. "Arrug! Quit man-handling me! Why are you doing this?!" shouted Zesper angrily at the man atop the monster, but to no avail. The rider was clasping his hands over his ears, his face screwed up in annoyance. Now that he stopped yelling, he could hear a odd, grinding noise. Zesper looked over his shoulder, and was greeted by two blinding lights. A subway was right behind them. "Oh." He said blankly "That's why." Soon, the last passenger car zoomed by them, and once again, it was silent. For a few moments, nobody talked. Finally, Zesper mustered up the courage to talk. "Hey guys, I'm really grateful for you savin' me and all, but could you let me down now? Cause', I dunno know bout' you guys, but being held upside-down isn't really my cup of tea-WHOA!" Zesper didn't even get to finish his sentence, when the lizard bit down on his coat-tails and lifted him high above the beast's owner. "Oh my god, it's gonna eat me!" Zesper panicked, flailing around, but to no avail, fighting upside down is much harder then it looks. Then the panicked man remembered something, the pouch of tainted needles he kept hidden underneath his trench coat. He hadn't had to use them in a while. Feeling around on his belt, he finally found it. Having the placement of each kind of needle down by memory, he selected one that would inflict drowsiness on the target. "I don't wanna kill them..." As he took it out, a few other needles fell the the ground below. Zesper took as best aim as he could, being the circumstances, and aimed for the monster's neck. "Night, night, buddy." he whispered as he drew his throwing arm back, hoping that it would work.

(Oh Bob! The Green! Could you try not to do that? Maybe italicize, or a use a darker green?)

I do it for a sole reason...







To piss off Kerim.