| Onyx |
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| " *fidgets for a moment* Well here's one tank of a killing machine that you don't want to cross. He's the leader of this little team. Tall, dark, and deadly. Cares about nothing and no one, and functions on a strictly mechanical level. Believe me I wasn't joking when I said 'killing machine'. You need mass destruction?---he's the bull to call. Doesn't exactly work well with others on a personal level, but I'll tell you one thing---Don't frag with his team. He uses them efficiently, and nothing compromises that when he's working. From my understanding he hails from the wide world of Canada. Had a pretty fragged up past, that left him empty and unemotional. Life does that sometimes. He lives alone, stays alone, and eats alone (I understand he has a fetish for large slabs of ribs--the real stuff). Doesn't care for people much at all, and his only pleasure is inflicting pain--and babying his customized Hummer---ah love between machines. This is not the type of runner you wanna bulldrek. He's even got his fixer well trained not to frag with him. Most think |
| twice about crossing his path at all just by mere appearances. Minotaurs are a rarity in the whole goblinization circuit. Not a big time populous species. Especially not one with this heavy array of cyberware, neatly packed inside a custom tailored suit. If that doesn't startle you his arsenal will. *hits his cancer stick long and hard* Basically, should you see this eight foot tall monstrosity strolling down the late night city streets, be respectful and keep moving. I don't think any amount of reasoning will save your hoop from the wrath that would be impending should you piss him off. Put it this way, a toreador never feared that the bull would stand up and cut him down with one quick fire burst of his slayer. *nods and kicks back against the nearest wall.*" ~~IceWind |
| "Fuck magic. It'll never compare to killing a man with your bare hooves." |
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| "(staring down a Johnson) Not that it's any fuckin' business of yours, but I run my team damn well! And we will get the job done, and you will pay us in the end, so don't fuck with me. I'd hate to have to hunt you down, and nail your breeder ass to the wall of my garage for target practice. *laughs a sort of growling snort** What am I saying---you're half wit ass would be wasted in one shot. Not even worth my time. (Johnson stares back trying to maintain professionalism) ***lights a cigar, and snorts out a puff of smoke, eyes glinting red*** We clear, mother fucker? (Johnson nods, and swallows hard, glances around at the rest of the team standing stoically quiet) **stands and flexes, metal popping and stretching underneath his skin and his well-tailored suit*** Good. I'll find you when we're done. ***motions to the team, and walks out*** " ~Onyx |
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