#2b types

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Where the fuck am I?? @_@"

Why's the sky like that???

WHAT IS GOING ON???

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Where am I?

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CONNECTING...

CONNECTING...

PLEASE WAIT A MOMENT...

ONLINE!

WELCOME: 2BDAMNED

Hm. Guess this piece of shit finally connected outside of Nevada.

I suppose an introduction would be useful. 2BDamned: mercenary and leader of Status Quo. Our goals? Unimportant. Just know I'm always keeping an eye out.

Don't call me Doc. I'm not a doctor, despite how many wounds I've sewn up and how many limbs I've reattached.

NEW ACCOUNT DETECTED!

CONNECTING...

CONNECTING...

WELCOME: HANK WIMBLETON

...

Most wanted man in Nevada. That's all you need to know.

Madness Combat Crossover Blog!!

Yeah, I impulse made a blog for 2B... but I don't care, I love him and want people to bother the old bastard.

OOC posts will look like this and be tagged as #Granite Mun Speaking

I headcanon that Hank uses ASL so his messages look like this :3

Answer tag is #Doc Responds or #Hank Answers

Post tag is #2B Types or #Hank Types

Lore tag is #Makers Will

Small warning! This blog will most likely discuss gore and heavy violence. Be advised! Everything will be tagged properly <3

As for Mun Boundaries, everything goes, except for outright NSFW. Suggestive is cool, as is flirting, just not straight up NSFW.

I recommend people go watch Madness Combat. Please, please, please. It's a good series, and it takes less than 2 hours to watch all the animations.

But for those who don't want to, here's a quick Rundown of stuff:

2BDamned

Name: Unknown, Uses 2BDamned and Doc as aliases

Age: 51

Pronouns: He/They

Base of Operation: A Rundown House belonging to an old "friend". Middle of Nowhere, Nevada.

Appearance: Mohawk with grey streaks in it, bandages around mouth and neck, mask and goggles covering his face, heavy duty jacket with fur collar, cargo pants, combat boots, fingerless gloves.

Weapons: Grenades, VSS Vintorez, 9mm 1911.

Skills: Medical Care, Hacking, Leadership, Strategizing, Sniping.

Backstory: Leader of a mercenary group called Status Quo, 2B works toward a purpose even those within the group do not seem to know. With the ability to revive his allies from the dead, he is quintessential to the team, even if he is rarely out in the field. He has an odd, complicated history with one of the team's suedo members, Hank. Doc seems to be the only person Hank will listen to.

Secretly, he works in the favor of a God, known as the Maker, ensuring its plans are properly followed through on, and any in opposition to it are eliminated. Even if the Maker is hidden away in its own realm, 2B is diligent and willing to go to any lengths for the god.

Hank

Name: Hank J. Wimbleton

Age: 56

Pronouns: He/They

Appearance: Black buzzcut hair, red lens goggles, black mask, black bandana, black trenchcoat, bandages covering most of his body, black chest armor, heavy combat boots, black jeans, leather harness.

Weapons: 9mm 1911s, Katana, Bowie Knife, 5-7, Remington 870

Skills: Violence, Inhuman Reflexes, Enhanced Senses, Expert Hand-to-Hand Combat, Weapon Mastery, Inhuman Strength, Inhuman Durability, Inhuman Endurance, Electrokinesis, Intangiblity Negation

Backstory: Over 30 years ago, Hank committed his first detailed act of violence, killing 32 people in cold blood. Over the years, he became the most wanted man in Nevada, claiming well over 700 lives in the process. He became far more competent in battle, albeit far more risky and reckless. After coming back to life so many times, something has changed. Is he really human anymore, or has something else laid claim to his existence?

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Fuck, it happened again.

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Finding a place to lay low for a little while proved to be deceptively difficult. He obviously wasn’t going back to where he had been staying before; he couldn’t bear the thought of running into the person who had seen him so vulnerable. To make matters worse, he didn’t even have his mask.

Doc vaguely recalled setting it aside before everything faded to black. Younger him presumably didn’t grab it before leaving, not that he could blame him. Now, though, he felt as if everyone was staring at him as if he were coated in blood. He knew all too well what that felt like. His scars were on clear display to be gawked at by everyone who saw him. He loathed it, dipping the alleyways to avoid people’s stares.

Busting into a deserted facility to hide out wasn’t part of his plan for the day, but when in Rome, he figured he had to make do. He had no phone, no tablet, and worst of all, no gun. If anyone came after him... it wouldn’t be a fun situation.

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...

...

Disconnected.

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Why is there a cat here?

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Is this what LA actually looks like? It's... not entirely what I expect ×_×