Posts by Doc Doctor

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  • PASS THE BISCUITS | Open, Bloodclan Tea Party



    [color=white]Ol' Rab turned to the thingy that was talking, holding out a cookie.


    "Fancy yer'self a biscuit laddie? Shut yer' trap n' join us fer' tea!"

  • OL' RAB'S RETURN (Open)

    ☣ jace b. ecuador-vires. wrote:


    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: center; width: 450px; font-size: 33pt; font-family: georgia; text-shadow: 0pt 0pt 10pt#000000; letter-spacing: -2pt; margin-top: 10px; cursor: url(http://cur.cursors-4u.net/others/oth-7/oth641.cur), auto]❝JACE ECUADOR❞[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: center; width: 410px; font-size: 8.5pt; letter-spacing: 2pt; cursor: url(http://cur.cursors-4u.net/others/oth-7/oth641.cur), auto]✯ bloodclan ✯ second tier ✯ extreme ✯ nokill&&capture[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; height: auto; width: 410px; overflow: auto; margin-top: -5px; cursor: url(http://cur.cursors-4u.net/others/oth-7/oth641.cur), auto][justify]"Hey Rab. Long time no see." Rumbled the tiger as he approached, satisfied the badger had returned. He was fun and enjoyable to be around.


    [hr]
    [sup]battle tags!





    "Aye laddie, n' Ol' Rab sees ye' be a lookin' tad diff'rent. Bulked up serm', did ye'!?"

  • OL' RAB'S RETURN (Open)

    WINTER T. wrote:


    [align=center][size=25pt]✯ ✯ ✯


    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; line-height:97%;][justify]she liked the guy already. he had a cheerful yet somehow dominant aura to him, or rather the way he acted . "welcome back, i'm winter," the ashen-colored lioness smiled towards the honey badger, tail waving behind her like a banner.





    "Ah lassie, ain' seen ye' 'fore! Fancy yerself a pickle?"


    [size=12]The large badger snuffled into the front pocket of his referee shirt, before pulling out a plump looking pickle and tossing it in front of Winter. He never went anywhere without one.[/size]

  • TIED TO THE WHIPPIN' POST! (Ol' Rab's Bio)

    °ï§ï°¨¨˜´ˆ'`˜¨¨°ï§ï°¨¨˜´'ˆ`˜¨¨°ï«ï°


    Ol' Rab


    °ï»ï°¨¨˜´ˆ'`˜¨¨°ï§ï°¨¨˜´'ˆ`˜¨¨°ï§ï°


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Gender: Male


    Species: African Honey badger


    Age: Unknown


    Sexual orientation: Straight, but honestly, nobody gives a crap what the frick you like to bang. I feel like I've dropped a few I.Q points for even listing this.


    Clan/Group: BloodClan


    Rank: None


    Position: Champion of Combat/Referee


    Appearance: Nearly three feet long and weighing in at thirty-eight pounds, the foreign varmint known only as Ol' Rab is a creature of both prodigious size and strength. A countless array of scars in all shapes and sizes riddle his face and body, almost too many to count. Beady black eyes burning with devious austere and mild constipation gaze luridly out from beneath a pair of bushy, wickedly arched brows. Thick wads of doughy muscle bulge out against dense rolls of rubbery hide and matted fur, poorly concealed strength rippling with every movement. As all honey badgers do, Ol' Rab boasts a wide, faded white streak of fur which marks the start of its journey at the center of his forehead and descends down to the end of his rear. Grisly digging claws protrude from each paw, as black as onyx and sharpened to razor-like edges.
    He is always seen wearing a long, loose-fitting referee jersey, the back of which is pockmarked with hundreds of tiny holes. Ol' Rab is never still, always moving with a barely restrained frenetic energy. He experiences frequent tics from his A.D.H.D, causing him to twitch and spasm at uneven intervals.


    Personality: Rab is a grumpy sailor, putting it simply. He is wary of new blood, primarily because strangers often raid and damage his precious pickle patch. Pickle patch, you ask? Yes, Ol' Rab loves pickles. They are his favorite food, in fact. He grows and pickles them himself, and is fiercely protective of his lumpy green dills. If he feels that his pickles are in no danger, however, Rab immediately becomes just as friendly as peach pie, even going so far as to try and make buddies with enemies on the battlefield.
    That is to say, unless he is feeling "The Heat". He can feel it in his blood, boiling and bubbling. Hotter and hotter, until he can't help but quake and spasm to relieve the explosive feeling accumulated within. It is a primal urge, a boundless calling from within the depths of his soul that entices him to live as a warrior. He lives for nothing else, and knows nothing else. Unless you count pickles. But pickles come second. His first love is and has always been battle.
    Ol' Rab follows his own personal code of honor, which often conflicts with those of his brethren. He cares not for torturing prisoners in cages or ganging up on enemies. He considers such actions to be cowardly and weak. Rab prefers to fight against great odds and not bother with those who don't present themselves as a challenge. To those who do meet these qualifications, Ol' Rab extends his greatest respect and honors them regardless of their own might.


    History: Little is known of Ol' Rab's past, save for the fact that he had been in innumerable battles before ever coming to the Feral Territories. His muddled Anglo-Scottish accent does little to provide any enlightenment. What also is known, is that he was born under a bad sign. Outside of combat, Rab seemingly suffers from bouts of random misfortune. He has been struck by lightning multiple times, often stumbles upon dangerous or bothersome items, frequently falls into concealed pits and holes, and never seems able to win any sort of luck-based game.
    He has participated in many raids and wars, and is the undefeated champion of his own cross-border tournament series, having bested the top fighters of many different clans. He has been victorious in every local BloodClan tournament entered as well. Despite this, Rab refuses to take any ranks. He doesn't fancy himself to be any sort of leader, and has never ordered anybody other than himself around. Well, when he is playing the role of a referee he does. Rab enjoys watching fights almost as much as he enjoys being in them, and takes pleasure in training promising young critters as well. He often stages fights between BloodClan members and ensures that they don't kill each other.


    Abilities: Ol' Rab knows very well that the greatest combat style is one that employs both haste and surprise. And Rab has many surprises. Rab follows a simple prison-style philosophy. Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face, and most often it is the punch you don't see coming that knocks you out. As such, Rab's greatest weapon is his apparent lack thereof, along with his unpredictable demeanor and actions which seemingly revolve around just running up to the biggest and baddest creature in sight, and tearing it a new one in ways it never imagined possible.
    The badger's actual capabilities are widely unknown, as Rab never reveals what his strengths are outside of a fight and never uses any more power than is required to win. Little else can be said.


    Love Interests: Ol' Rab is hooked up with a well-aged cat named Pigeon, and frequently takes her on romantic dinner dates.


    Feats: Ol' Rab has proven himself worthy of his title many times over. He has...


    *Defeated former Dominion leaders with ease.


    *Defeated former EclipseClan leaders with ease.


    *Defeated former WindClan leaders with ease.


    *Held a country wide death match tournament, handily defeating and killing champions from several enemy clans.


    *Claimed victory in the 2014 BloodClan Olympics sparring event.


    *Single handedly creamed the entire fighting force of The Exiles in their own territory, and pooped in front of their defeated leader.


    *Has never been defeated under any circumstances.

  • Power Limitation Questions

    I've been wondering about the limits of a few powers.


    For example, conjuration. Are the limits to the things you can materialize? Size? Quantity? Complexity?


    And if somebody has teleportation, what stops them from teleporting right into the perfect position to crush you or bite out your throat for an instakill?


    If a character has used the grow power to increase their size, if another player activates a power blocker, will that make the enlarged character shrink back to normal?

  • HOLY SPIRIT || TRICLAN RAID



    A large, scar-riddled honey badger wearing a loose referee jersey began waddling towards Caelus Rayan at a fervent yet deliberate pace. Aside from appearing slightly larger (and uglier) than your average ratel, Ol' Rab didn't seem to have any obvious mutations (unless Rayan used x-ray vision to take a closer look). Despite this, the grisly varmint was none other than the Bloodclan's top combatant, and he seemed none to pleased at having a crystal thrown through the pickle he had just been eating on the sidelines. Ol' Rab had been content to just watch, but now it was personal. Beady black eyes locked upon the big cat with an irrevocable and silent wrath, random spasms of intense physical vigor racking his muscular frame. Those nearby might feel inexplicably compelled to not interfere with this new, ominous grudge match.

  • Power Limitation Questions

    I see, but I'm still a bit iffy on the conjuration thing. What's to stop somebody from summoning an atomic bomb that they saw pictures of in an old thrown away magazine, for example? I'd imagine that devices too complex for animals to comprehend or objects with ridiculously large sizes shouldn't be possible to conjure.

  • Power Limitation Questions

    Just thought of this. What about conjuring a ridiculously MASSIVE leaning skyscraper made of wood meant to fall upon and crush everything in sight? There needs to be a size limit. And a quantity limit if you try to make 1,000 of them.


    Perhaps an object can only be a certain number of times your character's weight, and you can't make more than a few of something within a certain amount of time, like a cooldown.

  • ORGONE ACCUMULATOR (Rab's Really Crossed The Line This Time, Open)

    In accordance with the information discovered on THIS (http://feralfront.com/index.ph…4.msg81750246#msg81750246) thread, everyone's favorite honey badger is about to do something completely and utterly stupid.


    Ol' Rab stood at the edge of the border, surveying the vast, seemingly limitless desert beyond. He then reared up onto his hind legs, paws flailing wildly and black eyes bulging with excitement as he activated the *apparently* limitless might of conjuration.


    As far as the eye could see, poop. Miles and miles of mountainous dookie. Yes, that's right. He conjured a thick layer of crap to cover the entire Western desert. Why? One might as well ask Doctor Frankenstein why he created life.


    Because he could.