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Game Details
| Date/Time: |
TBA
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| Location: |
Board 8
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| Score: |
4-2
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| Winner: |
Kezrael (Version 4) |
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| Name: |
Kezrael (Version 4)
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| Seed: |
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*Character Name: Kezrael Version 4?
*Your Username: ImTheMacheteGuy or Caelus
*Gender (if applicable): YES PLZ! LLOLOL wait I think it did it wrong...
*Race: Whatever the other ones were...
Media Appeared In (This would be what game, book etc they would appear in): The short story that I wrote in the "*Biography" section... oh yeah technically the other CAC entries of him in the past also, if you want to count those...
*Physical Description: Some sort of angel thing iirc w/ black wings and probably black hair and I don't remember the rest of the details. It's probably not important.
Abilities: *Strengths: *Weaknesses: *Personality: (These are covered in the story)
*Biography:
"I may have lost before... to an opponent that was less than formidable... Foolish mortals with all of their blatant well-known alts whose votes were counted anyway... Such a f***ing dick move that was... But I will be back... I will have my revenge..."
"Pssst!" whispered a patron to the man who was standing behind the counter wiping down a wet glass. "Who's that weirdo in the corner talking to?"
The bartender turned. "Oh that's just Kezrael. He's a regular here who likes to talk to himself. He's always blackout drunk and out of his mind... but he's mostly harmless..."
"Mostly?" Chuckled the patron.
The black-winged drunk walked over to the bar and sat down a few stools away from the other patron. Aside from the two of them and the bartender, there were only a few others in the establishment, which was quite large and could accomodate dozens more, but it was early at this time, late morning bordering on early afternoon on some unimportant day of the week like Monday or Tuesday, so the lack of patronage was to be expected.
"Another beer, Kezrael, or are you gonna switch it up?" Asked the bartender, knowing the angel's inconsistent and sporadic choices in drink.
"I would like one alcohol please," replied Kezrael, attempting to be funny.
The other fellow chuckled once again and was shot a dirty look.
"You always say that," laughed the bartender. "Being specific just doesn't suit you..." He took out a large glass and poured several different liquors into it, making a horrid concoction that would inevitably taste completely ridiculous. He placed the glass on a coaster in front of the angel.
"Thanks," said Kezrael. He placed a one hundred US dollar bill on the bar. "And one for chuckles over here too," he motioned to the other fellow.
"Actually I'd prefer to stick to beer," said the patron. "But thanks anyway, buddy."
"I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY, FRIEND!" Screamed the angel, pounding a fist against the bar.
"Whoa! Take it easy!" Exclaimed the beer drinker.
"No, jackass!" Snapped Kezrael. "You're supposed to say 'I'M NOT YOUR FRIEND, GUY!' Don't you know anything?! God, I f***ing hate people who don't automatically know every single South Park reference imaginable. Go back to living under a rock!"
"Well..." replied the patron. "Forgive me for not catching on immediately... but that WAS several seasons ago."
"Damn right it was," muttered Kezrael, taking a large swig from his glass.
As the two drinkers did what drinkers do, the bartender went to fetch the remote for the television. He turned it on and changed the channel to a sporting event in which the Boston Winners were playing the New York Dickf***ers.
Kezrael looked up. "Oh sweet! There's an early game on today?"
"I've got the whole season schedule memorized! You know how much I love Macheteball!" Exclaimed the bartender enthusiastically. (Macheteball is a sport I just made up. I don't know what the rules are or how you play it. I just know that it's called Macheteball, so it's probably awesome... or at least better than soccer). "Boston's on a hot streak. They just swept a four game series against the Atlanta Tornadomen."
"What ever..." Grumbled an angry guy sitting at a table at the other end of the bar. "Theirs always next year..."
As early afternoon turned into the middle of the afternoon and then early morning and then late afternoon (robot dinosaur nazis f***ed up the flow of time in the Great War of A Few Weeks Ago... in case you were wondering), Kezrael seemed to be slipping further and further into his blacked out state... but surprisingly he and the other patron were getting along very well, despite having gotten off on the wrong foot.
"You're a good dude, man. I like you. Have another beer! It's on me!" Exclaimed Kezrael in a very slurred voice. "BARTENDAR! ANOTHER TALL GLASS LIQUOR SURPRISE FOR ME AND ANOTHER BEER FOR MY BUDDY HERE!" He yelled. He then turned to the beer-drinker. "Hey, bro... I can't even remember your name. I'm f***ing DRUNK, man! What was your name again?"
"I haven't given you my name," chuckled the patron.
The bartender arrived with the drinks. "One liquor surprise for Kezrael and one non-alcoholic beer for the other guy..." He said cheerfully.
Kezrael froze. "Non-alcoholic? You're drinking non-alcoholic beer? What're you some kind of chicken s***?"
The patron chuckled again. "I needed you to be wasted and I needed me to be clear-headed, otherwise it would be... more difficult..." He turned to the angel with a sinister expression on his face as pulled a monocle out of his shirt pocket and placed it on one of his eyes. He made some hand gesture and pulled out a knife. "...To finish what I started!"
"YOU!!!" Gasped Kezrael in an extremely dramatic fashion, pointing at the man as he was hit by the stunning realization of his true identity. "You look somewhat familiar for some reason... Were you on Survivor?"
The monocled man scoffed. "Idiot... I did everyone a favor by beating you last time. This time, I'm doing it just for me!" He lunged at the angel, his knife aimed straight at the heart.
Suddenly, the sound of a silenced pistol could be heard by anyone who was in hearing range of the silenced pistol that was just fired.
The monocled man's arm dropped and the knife fell from his hand as a shocked look crossed over his face. His monocle was shattered now, with pieces of it on the bar, the floor and in his skull, as he had been shot right through the eye. "How could... a drunk have such... quick reflexes?" He asked in his final moment before falling off his barstool, dead.
Kezrael grinned. "I forgot to mention I have a high alcohol tolerance and that I exaggerate my drunkenness for the sake of attention whoring... Oh yeah, and don't bring a gun... er, I mean a knife to a... knife fight... or..." He paused and shrugged disappointedly. "CUT! I f***ed up that line! We need to do this scene again!" He put the gun back in his coat pocket.
"Ha!" Laughed the bartender. "Scene? What scene? This is real life!" He looked over the bar at the body on the floor. "I knew there was something sketchy about that guy..." He then looked over at the Tornadomen fan at the table. "You there! Get rid of this mess and I'll give ya' a free soda since you don't drink alcohol!"
The guy frowned. "What ever why do you people always make me do the hard work around here I hate work working and jobs are for losers..." He continued to mutter to himself as he dragged the body of the monocled man toward the back door. "And soda is free anyway why do I let him talk me into doing his dirty work..."
Kezrael turned around to face away from the bar as something exciting happened in the Macheteball game. He cheered and leaned back, propping his elbows on the bar as his eyes were transfixed to the television, unaware of what was happening behind his back...
The bartender now wielded a machete, and immediately swung it horizontally, slicing clean through the angel's neck. The head dropped to the floor and rolled or something... whatever heads do when you chop them off...
The Tornadomen fan returned to see another body on the floor. "Another one? Damn it Caelus I dont even work here and you make me do all the work and only give me free soda which is already free!"
The Bartender grinned as he wiped the blood off of the machete. "What ever..." He then turned to face the readers, who may or may not have been surprised by the twists. "What? Kezrael was a s***ty character! I'm actually borderline embarassed at how inferior my writing was back then... Seriously... bad, lame, asinine idea for a character." He picked up a shot glass and threw it at the body that was being dragged out.
"He watch it you almost hit me with that!" Yelled the Tornadomen fan.
"Pssst!" Whispered a woman at a booth near the front door to the man who sat across from her, presumably her boyfriend or husband. "Who was that weirdo bartender talking to?"
"Probably your mother! Now GO MAKE ME MY DINNER!"
END |
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*Character Name: Zephyr
*Your Username: SSBDarren64
*Gender: Male
Age: 22
Birthday: 2/29/1043
Height: 5'10
Weight: 120
*Race: Elf
*Physical Description: Neck length hair that covers one of his eyes and almost half of his face. His other eye has a cut mark over it, and is rather narrow. Wears a large green coat, blue loose clothing under that, and combat boots.
Abilities: Zephyr uses a longbow, but his fighting style is rather unique. Instead of just straightforwardly shooting, he has a magical power where he can manipulate and set up a certain path for his arrows to take. With this ability, he can also shoot multiple arrows at once. Combined with his intelligence, he can set up arrow traps, he can eliminate priority targets easily, and so on. He also made several different types of arrows for certain situations. He has a standard speed arrow, and then a broad arrow for impact shots, and a pierce arrow that goes through defenses. He also has several element arrows, such as fire, ice, thunder, and poison.
*Biography: A mysterious mercenary and an expertise sharpshooter. Zephyr is a renowned and intelligent journeyman, but he does not appear in the public so often. As a child, he discovered that he was particularly intelligent and skillful in combat. He is really great at crafting, and he always had a feeling of individualism. He never liked how people were trying to force on to him certain beliefs or ways, and they always said it was for the good. Believing them, he followed their ideals, and regretted his decision. He realized after years that he would never achieve anything using their ideas. He came to a belief that people just want things their way, what they think will lead to their perception of "good", and not the others'. He abandoned his village and became the journeyman he is now, taking on weird jobs or mercenary jobs, but for the most part, relaxing, having fun, and being cool.
*Strengths: His abilities and resources combined with his intelligence allows him to succeed in a huge variety of situations, whether it'd be taking out targets swiftly, taking out more fortified targets, taking out hordes of enemies efficiently, and so on and so forth.
*Weaknesses: He is lacking in close combat, and he is extremely reliant on his resources. He is also not very physically enduring, or strong.
*Personality: Very cool and collected. Very emotionally stable and doesn't express much emotion either. Does what he feels like and does not rely on other people's advice or idea, but doesn't disrupt other people either, as that would be rather hypocritical.
Famous Quotes: "I am my own influence, and my influence makes me awesome."
Other notes: Under his hair is another eye, that's completely regular. Yeah, total disappointment, amirite? |
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