Posts made by Phreeze

Foul odors were nothing new to Crypto in the delving of his tome. Nothing new in the delving of his insidious research, or his pragmatic way of life. Howard winced, only imagining how that could feel, being blasted by trash-odors and aerosol rubbish. "I'll clean you after this, Crypto, fear not." "I had none to begin with, and none to end. Pursuing targets on my own. Put that recover on standby, I may yet need it before the day is through." "Got it, Crypto. Hang in there." After their brief parley, Crypto scoffs. Hanging in there was his specialty, among other things. He turns, around, arms out as he drew in more of that power. A single arm thrust fires off the first volley of destructive force. The thrust forward drives the book out, sending out a wailing, grasping, gnashing energy globule at the Metool that had hid so precariously behind filth and garbage. Its deletion was nigh. Would it dream? Feel? Hopefully not.

The next order of business was twofold. A swung arm out, and Crypto requests simply. "A claw, sir." "On it." the fast reply filled out the RageClaw, that long weapon along his other hand. It was time to get a little creative. The hellacious, tenacious navi, having hopefully either deleted or scared the mettool behind him, now turns towards that bin. Oh it was time... time to give the last breath to this little bugger. He reaches that claw down, and turns the bin up-side down once he had a good grip on it. One could swear there was a glint of beastial hunger in his triclopian eyes. A bit of cruelty, but that was mere conjecture, right? He reaches upward to its full height, before throwing all his weight down, and slamming the bin down where the Mettool might be. It felt right to do this... Almost as though this raw, primal act was made for him. Perhaps it was?

Crypto stands back, seeing no further action necessary.

==Action Summary==
1. Charging Buster...
2. Charging Buster...
3. Buster Shot (40 DMG) at Metool B
4. RageClaw1Damage: 40 + Slashing (Attack) OR 20 + Impacting (Throw)
Accuracy: B / B then B
Description: Creates an impressive bear claw. Can be used to slash or throw enemies or objects.
Duration: Until Overridden/Broken. Breaks automatically after 6 uses.
Element: Null
Special: Throw: The wielder must first grab the target to be thrown, then the target is thrown in the direction/area indicated. A second check is made if against another object/enemy. Throw deals damage to both thrown object/enemy and the second object/enemy. Damage occurs at point of collision with the ground/wall/ceiling/etc. or an object/enemy, not during initial grab attempt. Objects deal their max HP in damage (instead of the chip's damage) if they hit an object/enemy, then break. If they miss, the object just takes the chip's damage. This chip has a variety of uses.
Trader Rank: D used on Recycling Bin to throw at Metool A.
==Status Screen==
Crypto.EXE: 140/150 HP
Wall of Flesh: 10/30 (Counter Spent)
Condition: N/A
Cooldowns: Hexed Wall of Flesh (0/1)

Here came the entourage, on all sides of Crypto, they marched, stomping in with their picks held high, believing themselves to be the ones to wipe this smudge in the name of ethics off the net. How wrong they were, to believe an entity separate from the greater whole. Whispers speak to Crypto, they're part of a greater piece, they're... A voice cuts in from the fog, as his battle routines kick up. Howard was there, bringing his friend back from the depths to get him to focus on the task at hand. "Crypto! Get in gear, we've got company." Howard informs him, getting the chip-folder set up, and ready to set him on the beasts. "Yes, sir. Now then..." He takes a breath, drawing close, and flourishing, book held out in hand, fluttering open. This first Metool would be simple, allow the mass to handle them. Crypto consults the book, quickly skimming as to not give them a chance... "Ah, here we are. Ruhast!" He calls out, swinging an arm up. The unknown, evil presence in the tome flares in a black-and-purple fire, summoning forth a mass of tendrils from beneath the surface of the net. They burrow out, taking hold of each other into a massive, wadded ball of undulating, oozing limbs. He puts his back to the limbs, which gently tread by his body, grazing their new master with a sense of familiarity, as though they'd always known him. Crypto takes his chances next, "Sir, lineup." "On it, Crypto." The response was rapid, and so was the deployment of the Cannon battlechip. Crypto lines up the shot, arm leveled, book tucked away in his robes for now. He places his free hand onto his forearm, and takes a breath in, and out. During the exhale, he fires that shot right at the second Mettool, the left one, just passed the garbage heap. If he misses, it's likely to blast the heap into bits. After the concussive blast, he takes a knee, moving with the recoil as he had in days passed. He swings his arm out, the second shot lined up with a shotgun. The same deal, breath in, arm braced, breath out, fire. The blast was choked slightly, set to the center of the two Metools. His shot intended to shred the two here. The fluid motion was unlike Crypto. Howard didn't comment on the matter, merely taking notes and observing his Navi moving mostly on his own. With the two shots out of the way. The first being more of a testing shot to see if this new knowledge was worthwhile, and the second a clear killing blow if need be, he strides casually around the corner, the book fluttering page from page, fitting into a new passage. One that didn't have a direct ritual tied. Rather, the book's pages begin glowing... Hell, the actual tome itself begins pulsing red..! Veins begin reaching across his arm, and the overload was too much to bear with how much energy he'd spent in this fight. He draws his hand across the current page, and fires off that vitriolic shot. The heavy, laden energy hisses and surges with malicious intent, screaming as it flies across the battlefield towards the final Metool.

==Action Summary==
1). Hexed Wall of Flesh
[30 HP Wall of Flesh, Counter (damage dealt): 10 Null {A}]; 1TCD
2). CannonDamage: 60 + Knockback
Accuracy: A
Description: A decent sized cannon with a single shot.
Duration: Once
Element: Null
Trader Rank: E at Metool B
3). ShotgunDamage: 50 + Spread 1
Accuracy: A
Description: A gun whose shot penetrates an enemy to hit another one directly behind it.
Duration: Once
Element: Null
Trader Rank: E at Metool B/C
4). Charge
5). Charge
6). Buster Shot at Metool A (40 DMG due to 1/1/1 Buster)
==Status Screen==
Crypto.EXE: 150/150 HP
Wall of Flesh: 30/30
Condition: N/A
Cooldowns: Hexed Wall of Flesh (0/1)

Jacked into the AC/DC network was that unusual, triclops navi. His three eyes push forward and back, like night-vision as the emerald-colored program adjusted his dark clothing, book hidden under one arm in the voluminous coverings. This was Crypto, ready to test the limits of the new techniques he'd recently uncovered with his operator in this, for lack of better words, tome. The motif of hiding such secrets inside a tome was nothing new. The novelty of it has existed in fact and fiction through the centuries, but Crypto in particular was made for such a thing. At least, was, before he learned its dark secrets. Keeping them to himself, he steps forward, eyes scanning to and fro. Was he looking for someone? Was he lost? In truth, he was looking for viruses to eliminate, little baddies to test the limits of his power on.

"Any signs of Virus activity, Crypto?" Quips his operator, who'd just come back from grabbing a brief snack from the fridge, and cracking open a small sports drink along with it. "Fleeting, sir. The path forks, life draws me towards two options." The fork in the road sits with two main hubs, both dusty and decrepit, leading to closed off barriers to each side of a bustling network. A perfect spot to be skulking around, if it were up to him. Crypto waits his operator's response, who simply gestures at the camera, a signal for him to choose. Crypto takes the path dead ahead rather than to his left, trekking along beside the false trees and green panels, rolling his shoulder idly. "Northward, dead ahead sir."

Crypto.EXE Ready!

Schoolwork. Who ever liked doing schoolwork? What good was it besides to reinforce the obvious? There was no true reason for it, so mankind gave it reason. This, of course, isn't a story of mankind's greater triumphs in the face of nihilistic dread. This is the story of a slightly gothic, normal-looking man coming home from a community campus. Going to school was often lauded as a noble, higher pursuit. As nice as it was to learn, and how easy it was to grasp, things were so... slow! Nothing was up to his voracious pace. His small-side apartment located in the only complex in ACDC was Howard's home, and alas, it wasn't impressive. Books upon books, organized loosely on the shelves lay with bookmarks in them all. Started projects he hadn't finished in the back, the kitchenette spotless however, and the little fridge still with that scrape he'd had no time to paint over. None of this was important in the end. Not with discoveries anew being made. Howard takes his seat at his desk, flicking open his PET.

"Status report, Crypto."
"Musing. Feeling. Fine, otherwise. Are we delving back into... it?"
"Right as ever. Let's get phase two started."

The quick interaction was all he needed before plugging his navi, hard line this time, into his PC. Too long had Howard connected his Navi via wireless or IF connections, unreliable at best, no matter how often he optimized. Now? Now it was time to slack on work, and hold off till the last second! A chuckle escapes Howard at this thought. Who in the right mind would actually do that?

This is Howard Layton's personal email.

If you are here for inquiries regarding lent books, or replies to published college research papers, please label your header with RE:SCHOLARLY:
If you are messaging for anything else, please label your header with INQUIRY: or a capitalized heading regarding the nature of your message (I.E. TRADING:, EMERGENCY ALERT:, ect)
Non-government email messages will be sent to a spam folder, and scoured for possibilities of viruses, before being deleted.
If you are replying about the profile on the Pyre Dating App, do not bother.

(When trying to reply to this email, there is a system message that displays with the following foreward.)
When writing a message in regards to non-essential personal matters, I would ask that you start your message with a proper heading, an indented paragraph format, and twelve point font, as well as double-spaced paragraphs and ending with proper conclusions (i.e. 'Sincerely'). Failure to do so will result in a lower likelihood of me reading your message. This may vary depending on the nature of your message.

NetNavi
Name: Crypto
Gender: Male
Element: Normal
Subtype: Summon
Appearance: A mostly normal, green navi shrouded in some dark robes, looking more like a sorcerer than a regular Navi. Crypto's triple-eye setup and goggle-like eye hole structures give him an unusual, alien feeling to his visage. His voice is low, deep, and some can swear Crypto's tone reverbs slightly. Clutched always at his side is a dark, old looking tome-program. A black book with carefully divots for inscriptions. For many, it's entirely indecipherable.
Personality: Once upon a time, Crypto was like Howard, but those times have changed. Finding this new power, this book of his, Crypto is somewhat distant, but also incredibly wise. He speaks low, soft, and finds no need for theatrics aside from the required movements to perform the rites listed in that old batch file he clutches between his fingers. He sees risks as no more than stepping stones to success, and can even get incredibly reckless in order to build a path to victory. Furthermore, Crypto is servile to a fault towards his operator. No matter how many times he may question the decision in the end, he'll shoot first and ask questions afterwards.
Custom Weapon: Dubious Relic - An old, dusty tome that was found after a scuffle between denizens of the UnderNet brought topside. It... whispers to Crypto. When triggered as a buster, it fires small globules of an unknown, highly erratic substance burning a bright red, which flashes into a sudden, chemical-like burn on contact. The burns are so quick, they deal damage immediately on contact, and fizzle away due to the lack of energy sustaining it. Charging causes the globules to last for longer.
Signature Points Used: 80/80

Invocation Of Hunger
Evoking the name of a fallen virus said to feed on the souls of Navis, Crypto enchants the next chip he uses with the spirit of a vengeful beast. Chanting it repeatedly is dangerous, and time must be taken between spoken words lest it be brought to the material plane, without any control.
Effects: Strengthen 30, Take Aim (30 + 10 = 40)
1 TCD

Hexed Wall Of Flesh
Residual data from an unknown source spawns tendrils in a straight wall across an entire panel, shielding its master from harm. The dark, deep tendrils ooze and contort with unusual motions, likely unnerving those who set their gaze on it for too long. Striking the tendrils often forces them to retreat, but not before lashing at their attackers with murderous intent.
Effects: Summon Immobile Object (30 HP), Counter(Normal Damage) 10 (30 + 10 = 40)
1 TCD

Starting Choices:
Battlechip - Recov30
Navicust - HP+50

Operator
Name: Howard Phillip Layton
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Combed-over hair, a slim, long face, and centered eyes give this otherwise boringly average man a bit more of a rustic and old appearance. To some, Howard, looks as though he leaped out of some sort of fictional book, or perhaps just happens to look the way he does by unfortunate chance. Howard tries to dress normally, casually, to blend in. Being as he is, a modest 5'10", this is a little easier to do for the otherwise unusual man.
Personality: Behind the facade of a normal man lies a truly curious man. Feeling an unnatural draw to the acquisition of knowledge, Howard finds himself constantly nose-in on anything from books, scholarly articles, and wiki pages (to which he can check on other sources for proof). As such, decryption and cipher-decoding as a passtime falls to Howard as the most enjoyable. Let this not fool anyone, as Howard is always willing to pick up a new hobby or skillset for the sake of broadening his horizons.
PET Modifications: There are two portions that allow the PET containing Crypto to stand out besides that purple-trimmed, black case. A triple-camera setup allows the navi inside to view the world in multiple dimensions, and articulate distance, measurements, and precise makeup of some objects. As well as this, a small stand and wheel system allows the navi inside to act separately, prying eyes to look around while the operator reads.

Operator
Name: Howard Phillip Layton
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Combed-over hair, a slim, long face, and centered eyes give this otherwise boringly average man a bit more of a rustic and old appearance. To some, Howard, looks as though he leaped out of some sort of fictional book, or perhaps just happens to look the way he does by unfortunate chance. Howard tries to dress normally, casually, to blend in. Being as he is, a modest 5'10", this is a little easier to do for the otherwise unusual man.
Personality: Behind the facade of a normal man lies a truly curious man. Feeling an unnatural draw to the acquisition of knowledge, Howard finds himself constantly nose-in on anything from books, scholarly articles, and wiki pages (to which he can check on other sources for proof). As such, decryption and cipher-decoding as a passtime falls to Howard as the most enjoyable. Let this not fool anyone, as Howard is always willing to pick up a new hobby or skillset for the sake of broadening his horizons.
PET Modifications: There are two portions that allow the PET containing Crypto to stand out besides that purple-trimmed, black case. A triple-camera setup allows the navi inside to view the world in multiple dimensions, and articulate distance, measurements, and precise makeup of some objects. As well as this, a small stand and wheel system allows the navi inside to act separately, prying eyes to look around while the operator reads.

NetNavi
Name: Crypto
Gender: Male
Element: Normal
Subtype: Summon
Appearance: A mostly normal, green navi shrouded in some dark robes, looking more like a sorcerer than a regular Navi. Crypto's triple-eye setup and goggle-like eye hole structures give him an unusual, alien feeling to his visage. His voice is low, deep, and some can swear Crypto's tone reverbs slightly. Clutched always at his side is a dark, old looking tome-program. A black book with carefully divots for inscriptions. For many, it's entirely indecipherable.
Personality: Once upon a time, Crypto was like Howard, but those times have changed. Finding this new power, this book of his, Crypto is somewhat distant, but also incredibly wise. He speaks low, soft, and finds no need for theatrics aside from the required movements to perform the rites listed in that old batch file he clutches between his fingers. He sees risks as no more than stepping stones to success, and can even get incredibly reckless in order to build a path to victory. Furthermore, Crypto is servile to a fault towards his operator. No matter how many times he may question the decision in the end, he'll shoot first and ask questions afterwards.
Custom Weapon: Dubious Relic - An old, dusty tome that was found after a scuffle between denizens of the UnderNet brought topside. It... whispers to Crypto. When triggered as a buster, it fires small globules of an unknown, highly erratic substance burning a bright red, which flashes into a sudden, chemical-like burn on contact. The burns are so quick, they deal damage immediately on contact, and fizzle away due to the lack of energy sustaining it. Charging causes the globules to last for longer.
Signature Points Used: 80/80

Invocation Of Hunger
Evoking the name of a fallen virus said to feed on the souls of Navis, Crypto enchants the next chip he uses with the spirit of a vengeful beast. Chanting it repeatedly is dangerous, and time must be taken between spoken words lest it be brought to the material plane, without any control.
Effects: Strengthen 30, Take Aim (30 + 10 = 40)
1 TCD

Hexed Wall Of Flesh
Residual data from an unknown source spawns tendrils in a straight wall across an entire panel, shielding its master from harm. The dark, deep tendrils ooze and contort with unusual motions, likely unnerving those who set their gaze on it for too long. Striking the tendrils often forces them to retreat, but not before lashing at their attackers with murderous intent.
Effects: Summon Immobile Object (30 HP), Counter(Normal Damage) 10 (30 + 10 = 40)
1 TCD

Starting Choices:
Battlechip - Recov30
Navicust - HP+50

Sorry not sorry, no STANDO memes.

VoodooMan lands in a surprising flourish, falling and letting his coattails slowly drift down. Sitting up, and dusting his coat off, the slim figured navi cocks his eyes around, letting those azure peepers steadily take in his environment. After a brief check, and a quick "Clear for now." to Mike, VoodooMan sets off, seeing the few waypoints that Mike had set down. The faintest rumbles can be heard on the other end... "Doll still wantin' some love, Mike baby?" "Yeah, poor thing. Mom must've ignored her today." To this, VoodooMan continues his chuckles, "You're gonna take that cat with you when you move out." "Probably."

The steady walking continues, and VoodooMan giving nods, tips of the hat, and letting other Navis pass by first, did his best to be the gentleman of the area. After all, what fun was it if he was going to just be selfish about how he moved. The world was already so rude, a little kindness never hurt anyone. The long strides finally cease at a dead-end, and he turns back around, making his way back through. "Net's quiet today, Mike." "Hopefully not for long. I was hoping to get you some upgrades here soon." "That's what a job's for, baby." "No, that's what able people get jobs for. You think anyone in ACDC wants to hire me?" A bit of silence falls... "I know a few. Don't count yourself short, Mike."

SNIPE - LOADED
MARKSMANSHIP - LOADED

Mike had arrived home after a longer than usual school day. College work had been hard, and being how he was, the poor guy was late to all his classes this semester for the first time. Though, understandably so. The subtle clack of his cane as he hobbled inside his parents' home signaled the arrival of his mom's cat. The black-and-white-splotched, four legged critter yowled as loud as she could, getting his attention. "Sorry, Doll. Can't pet you right now... Gimme a sec." To which he received further protest. VoodooMan, none the wiser, laughed to such a display. "Baby, I think your friend's a little tired. Go find mom again, Mike'll be with you." To this request, only more meows echoed. Mike shakes his head.

Proceeding to the stairs, and sitting down on that gliding chair, Mike lets the personal elevator carry him up the steps slowly. He sits patiently, waiting, tapping his fingers on the arm rest, to which the cat follows him up, hopping up the stairs one at a time, to continue her protest of feline mystery. The poor thing needed love, so it seemed. Mike, now at the top of the flight of stairs, sits up and braces his cane down against the ground again, to hobble into his room. Neat and orderly, just as he'd left it today. Not that he made much of a mess anyways, his condition didn't quite permit it. As soon as his fanny met the chair, Mike took that prosthetic leg off, leaving his stump to rest. He draws the long cord out of his pet and links to the jack-in port. "Ready, Voo?" "Born ready, baby." Doll, that little cat following along, leaps into Mike's lap to curl up. The usual ritual. "Doll wants in." Mike joked, cracking a grin as he let his fingers scritch just behind the ears of the cat, allowing VoodooMan to enter the Net.

"I'm gonna get our net page set up sometime. That way we can have a solid start point, Voo."

NetNavi
Name: VoodooMan.EXE
Gender: Male
Element: Normal
Subtype: Cursor
Appearance: By all appearances as a suave freak made to order, VoodooMan truly looks as though he's walked out of some ritualistic party-time, or perhaps an anime of some sort. Dressed in a long black coat, almost fit for a two piece suit if not for the long coattails, and suit pants to follow, VoodooMan looks sharp for a Navi so aptly named after a form of witchcraft. He's entirely covered from head to toe, the entirety of his head hidden under a tied burlap sack, and only cut holes from which blue eyes peer are the only facial details he has visible to the public. A large hat, one practically fit for rituals and even lined with bones, sits perfectly atop his head. It's not quite a bowler hat, given its flattened top, but isn't nearly tall enough to be a top-hat typically seen for Voodoo-Festival Wear. A ghostly aura, almost fit to an anime or manga character powering up, flares around him during combat.
Personality: Charming and cunning, VoodooMan, usually being referred to as Voodoo, or by some closer folks he knows, Mr. Voo (or Mr. Voodoo), Voo's aims to please. While outwardly charming, seeking to draw the attention and perhaps love of others, Voo in his deepest sense wants nothing more than to see his NetOp happy, and enjoying life again. VoodooMan is deeply reverent of friendship, and cherishes even small events, even if he doesn't outwardly state it. When Voodoo is eventually pushed over the edge, his charisma bottoms out, vouched for a more direct approach, and to lay waste with a bit of southern charm to whatever he's got in front of him.
Custom Weapon: Ghostly Buster - A phantasmal buster that appears over his shoulder at a given time. Translucent, and attached to an arm, it fires off at the point of his finger.

Passive and Active Cursor Effects
Passive: Marksmanship
Active: Snipe

Signature Attacks
Total Sig Points - 80
Total Used - 80
Distributed Points
Stand To The Occasion: 40
A Little Guardian Angel: 40

Stand To The Occasion!~
8 x 5 (or 40) Null Damage, Shot Type
VoodooMan summons a skeletal, heel-like Navi phantom at the wave of a hand. He's quite the Dorito Shaped creature, and his arms are massive. Once summoned, VoodooMan points to a single target, holding the brim of his hat with the other hand. The Phantom at this command, dashes forward and delivers a series of five blows. In truth (while not having any effect on statistical calculation), these are a series of rapid blows so quick, they connect all at once.
Cooldown: One Turn

A Little Guardian Angel!~
Counter - (On Hit) 20 Null Damage + Knockback2
The energy that surrounds VoodooMan in combat flares to life! His ghostly friend lays ready behind him, and just as he takes a heat, that being surges forward, delivering a mean gut punch straight to whatever decided it was going to deal damage to VoodooMan! Mind you, he still gets HIT, but the other critter is forced to think about what they've done after being sent back a good ways with a gut check.
Cooldown: One Turn

Operator
Name: Michael Gaits Jr.
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: Sickly, sunken, and pale, Michael isn't exactly a star in appearance, or topping any handsome-lad-daily polls. Standing five foot nine, and slim like a knife, Mike is a clear shut-in, and his crippled physique pays him no favors. With a small, slim face, brown hair, to which is long and stringy, falling just to his shoulders in a near pixie cut, and almost beady brown eyes, Mike's only real good features are, in fact, his face. An evenly shaped dome, a nose not too large, and his even-keel smile are about all he can attest to (unless one has an interest in crippled young men). Mike walks with a brace cane on his left arm, and his left leg is a simple prosthetic from the shin down, clearly a lack of proper replacement and nerve-linking in time. Often, he covers this leg, but rarely can one catch a glimpse of it. Freckles dot the entirety of Mike's arms, and up to his face, back across his neck and shoulders, only relenting across his forehead, neck, lower ends of his cheeks near the jaw, and his chin. Truly, he's a pitiful thing to the eyes of your average civilian.
Personality: Mike is humble, grateful for his new start, and the gift of life. While not spiritualistic, or overtly blinded by this second chance at life, he makes his way as a sarcastic soul, and something of a group clown or joker. Often taking tense moments as center-stage to rally his friends, or perhaps just to cheer someone up, he's usually enthusiastic, but a little self-centered. Michael is bold, despite his crippled physique, and will actively engage in arguments or rebuttals to even the largest of men, on the sole basis of "You wouldn't hit a cripple". While aware he's far from invincible, Mike takes pleasure in pushing others' buttons, but will more than gladly own up to his own fault if he goes a little too far. Mike sees no shades of grey, a constant black-or-white scenario usually plays out in his mind. To him, there's always two choices in a moral dilemma, and rarely a third, unless the situation specifically calls for more. To the contrary of this - Mike is a creative sort, and likes to try and think things over before acting, when he's not trying to bum-rush an objective of course.
PET Modifications: A 360-Degree round-end camera is mounted to the top of the PET, allowing VoodooMan to get a view all around the area. The original camera to the PET is removed, and is filled in with the material used for the exterior. An HD Microphone is also mounted to the inside, as well as several speaker upgrades. The case itself is a high-impact resistant polymer, made to be dropped, and even thrown, while not damaging any internal components.

Operator
Name: Michael Gaits Jr.
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: Sickly, sunken, and pale, Michael isn't exactly a star in appearance, or topping any handsome-lad-daily polls. Standing five foot nine, and slim like a knife, Mike is a clear shut-in, and his crippled physique pays him no favors. With a small, slim face, brown hair, to which is long and stringy, falling just to his shoulders in a near pixie cut, and almost beady brown eyes, Mike's only real good features are, in fact, his face. An evenly shaped dome, a nose not too large, and his even-keel smile are about all he can attest to (unless one has an interest in crippled young men). Mike walks with a brace cane on his left arm, and his left leg is a simple prosthetic from the shin down, clearly a lack of proper replacement and nerve-linking in time. Often, he covers this leg, but rarely can one catch a glimpse of it. Freckles dot the entirety of Mike's arms, and up to his face, back across his neck and shoulders, only relenting across his forehead, neck, lower ends of his cheeks near the jaw, and his chin. Truly, he's a pitiful thing to the eyes of your average civilian.
Personality: Mike is humble, grateful for his new start, and the gift of life. While not spiritualistic, or overtly blinded by this second chance at life, he makes his way as a sarcastic soul, and something of a group clown or joker. Often taking tense moments as center-stage to rally his friends, or perhaps just to cheer someone up, he's usually enthusiastic, but a little self-centered. Michael is bold, despite his crippled physique, and will actively engage in arguments or rebuttals to even the largest of men, on the sole basis of "You wouldn't hit a cripple". While aware he's far from invincible, Mike takes pleasure in pushing others' buttons, but will more than gladly own up to his own fault if he goes a little too far. Mike sees no shades of grey, a constant black-or-white scenario usually plays out in his mind. To him, there's always two choices in a moral dilemma, and rarely a third, unless the situation specifically calls for more. To the contrary of this - Mike is a creative sort, and likes to try and think things over before acting, when he's not trying to bum-rush an objective of course.
PET Modifications: A 360-Degree round-end camera is mounted to the top of the PET, allowing VoodooMan to get a view all around the area. The original camera to the PET is removed, and is filled in with the material used for the exterior. An HD Microphone is also mounted to the inside, as well as several speaker upgrades. The case itself is a high-impact resistant polymer, made to be dropped, and even thrown, while not damaging any internal components.

NetNavi
Name: VoodooMan.EXE
Gender: Male
Element: Normal
Subtype: Cursor
Appearance: By all appearances as a suave freak made to order, VoodooMan truly looks as though he's walked out of some ritualistic party-time, or perhaps an anime of some sort. Dressed in a long black coat, almost fit for a two piece suit if not for the long coattails, and suit pants to follow, VoodooMan looks sharp for a Navi so aptly named after a form of witchcraft. He's entirely covered from head to toe, the entirety of his head hidden under a tied burlap sack, and only cut holes from which blue eyes peer are the only facial details he has visible to the public. A large hat, one practically fit for rituals and even lined with bones, sits perfectly atop his head. It's not quite a bowler hat, given its flattened top, but isn't nearly tall enough to be a top-hat typically seen for Voodoo-Festival Wear. A ghostly aura, almost fit to an anime or manga character powering up, flares around him during combat.
Personality: Charming and cunning, VoodooMan, usually being referred to as Voodoo, or by some closer folks he knows, Mr. Voo (or Mr. Voodoo), Voo's aims to please. While outwardly charming, seeking to draw the attention and perhaps love of others, Voo in his deepest sense wants nothing more than to see his NetOp happy, and enjoying life again. VoodooMan is deeply reverent of friendship, and cherishes even small events, even if he doesn't outwardly state it. When Voodoo is eventually pushed over the edge, his charisma bottoms out, vouched for a more direct approach, and to lay waste with a bit of southern charm to whatever he's got in front of him.
Custom Weapon: Ghostly Buster - A phantasmal buster that appears over his shoulder at a given time. Translucent, and attached to an arm, it fires off at the point of his finger.

Passive and Active Cursor Effects
Passive: Marksmanship
Active: Snipe

Signature Attacks
Total Sig Points - 80
Total Used - 80
Distributed Points
Stand To The Occasion: 40
A Little Guardian Angel: 40

Stand To The Occasion!~
8 x 5 (or 40) Null Damage, Shot Type
VoodooMan summons a skeletal, heel-like Navi phantom at the wave of a hand. He's quite the Dorito Shaped creature, and his arms are massive. Once summoned, VoodooMan points to a single target, holding the brim of his hat with the other hand. The Phantom at this command, dashes forward and delivers a series of five blows. In truth (while not having any effect on statistical calculation), these are a series of rapid blows so quick, they connect all at once.
Cooldown: One Turn

A Little Guardian Angel!~
Counter - (On Hit) 20 Null Damage + Knockback2
The energy that surrounds VoodooMan in combat flares to life! His ghostly friend lays ready behind him, and just as he takes a heat, that being surges forward, delivering a mean gut punch straight to whatever decided it was going to deal damage to VoodooMan! Mind you, he still gets HIT, but the other critter is forced to think about what they've done after being sent back a good ways with a gut check.
Cooldown: One Turn

Starting Item Claims
NCP: HP+50
Chip: Vulcan1

Just shelving these poor souls for a while. Need some room for STANDO DA

Tatianna's eyes widened a little at Yan's brilliant little plan. Wow, kid! Talk about a spark of genius! "...Y-Yeah! Yeah, totally! Alright, here, lemme get some index values going. Purge needs to catalog this before we can fully get his aim going." Tatianna snapped her fingers, and tapped a few bits of rerouting commands right into that old-style prompt to PurgeMan, who would await further commands, only to be told right from his master herself. "You heard the lady, Purgykins. Yeet that bean." "Affirmative. SandMan, trust me." PurgeMan's tone was... admittedly incredibly dramatic for such an event, the fortuitous union only proving to make this easier for PurgeMan to hurl his ally across and over the blockade.

PurgeMan would simply grip at SandMan's gown, much like he'd done earlier today in that hug, and push his arm upright, much like certain, rock-throwing models. Only to let his buster arm forge back into a... surprisingly flesh-like hand. That was definitely something new. Tatianna's squint was only microscopic as she analyzed that scarred, repaired, stitched hand over and over, not seeing how it moved till PurgeMan identified a line to fire his friend over with the full brunt of his arm's length. "Parabola identified, force determined, ally damage mitigator engaged. ONWAAARD!" Without further ado, the heavy clangs of PurgeMan's boots crashed into the ground, and with his back shoving forward, the front end of his hips slinging out, he HURLED SandMan as far as he could. PurgeMan could only hope his aided insight was enough to at least have SandMan clear that blockade. Now it was time for part two.

With his machine gun slowly forming back over his arm, PurgeMan stomped his foot as hard as he could, and let out one of the most ferocious battlecries he could ever muster, roaring with all his might to these misbegotten, vile viruses, in order to challenge them. Once he does so, all he did was lift his rifle, and lighten his posture a little, even ducking down a little, as to prepare to evade incoming fire. With his distance, he knew he was juuust out of reach of the sonic splash damage those PulseBats could produce, but... probably a bit close to the others. "Come, vermin! Show me what passes for 'fury' among your filthy degenerated ranks! Give me CHALLENGE! GIVE ME A CHALLEEEENGE!" Keeping their aggro in mind, PurgeMan would raise his shield high, and slam it right into the ground, ready to utilize his cover to the point that it broke. He'd done this routine a million times. Hide behind the shield until it shatters, and move like hell till you can find a proper opening to fight back with righteous fury. "I WILL BREAK YOU UPON MY BODY, SHATTER YOU LIKE THE FRAIL LITTLE ABOMINATIONS YOU ARE, DARING TO LOOK MY WAY, AND STEP INTO MY WORLD."

Tatianna's eyes dilate a little, goosebumps raise on her arms and down her spine. God she loved it when he got angry like that, it was an infectious adrenaline rush. A whispered "Hell yeah." escaped Tatianna as she watched her Purgykins prepare for total virus annihilation.

-==PURGING BEGINS==-

-==ACTIONS TO PURGE THE VERMIN==-
Yeeted SandMan
Activated Bulwark of Faith - 2 Hit Shield

-==STATUS==-
Cooldowns: Bulwark of Faith - 0/1
Chips Used: None

Tatianna felt a smile creep across her lips at Yan's squealing and enjoyment of these now unfolding events, and it only emboldened the massive Navi within the net to witness such happiness. PurgeMan was sworn to defend, sworn to uphold, and sworn to... well... purge. Few things in life were actually meaningful by design for PurgeMan, so these moments with SandMan were actually incredibly fulfilling for him. For once, he had more use to his operator. The thought of being obsolete always terrified PurgeMan, but now he knew his peak performance had just been pushed a little higher. Tatianna, meanwhile, slotted in a MiniEnergy register, and activated the key for it, running a command prompt on the side. "Don't worry about this... jargon here. I like to manually distribute the subchip. It uh... makes me feel better." With that in mind, and slipped in, PurgeMan's body slowly begins to mend itself before SandMan. A sigh of relief, filtered and rattling, escapes his helmet. "Relief, at last."

<(MiniEnergy used)>

==INITIALIZING REPAIR ROUTINES==
==MINIENERGY IDENTIFIED==
==RESOURCES ALLOCATED==
==STATUS - PRIMED FOR PURGING==

After his body is fully restored, and his data integrity is verified by a small balloon, showing the reading of 100, PurgeMan cycles his buster over, and feeds new munitions into it, locking the weapon in place, and pulling its bolt back. KRSHH-CHK. The heavy clicking of the weapon's immediate pull echoes faintly to the decimated battlefield. PurgeMan, of course, looks up to the Operator Screen that just popped in, standing at attention, just like a soldier. "How you feelin', Purgykins?" "Fine enough, Tatianna. Ready to serve." Tatianna, with a bit of a pause, and a nod to Yan, as to confirm if she wanted to continue, would await her new friend's answer. She'd never... been this close to anyone before, and in a matter of just one day, she already felt like she knew Yan for an eternity. Meanwhile, PurgeMan kneels down, a heavy thud following his greave's impact to the ground, only to tell SandMan, "Ride on my shoulder. My strides are longer, and weight is a nonissue for me. We will save time."

A grin crosses Tatianna's face, larger and larger. These two navis were adorable.

<(Awaiting confirmation for continuing! PurgeMan is at 100/100 HP)>

So there he stood, heaving, barrel still sizzling with the heat of his Expunging protocols when finally, the battle routines ceased for a time. PurgeMan stood idly, before lowering his weapon suddenly. He calms his breathing, and looks on over to SandMan, the poor soul, who'd had his first taste of carnage. His first drops of data to meet his taste, and of course, his first kills. Heavy bootfalls finally tread in the path of SandMan, and for a moment, silence overtakes PurgeMan. He watches with those blue spheres that brilliantly shone through his helmet, the scars of battle still upon him, singed plate and dented. Only to reach to grab SandMan by his collar and lift him...

...into a hug?

Such bravery to defend one another, and such orders taken congealed into a sudden, natural neural update. PurgeMan felt suddenly... open to the idea of combat by SandMan's side. This was by design. Tatianna knew he'd come around. He was made to! She repaired him, after all. Fidelity was in his code. The blonde laughed a little, an open giggle to how her hulking buddy could be so soft with another. "SandMan, you have outshone my expectations. You've the heart of a warrior, and the soul of a firewall! We are kindred Navis, you and I." A light squeeze later, and he dropped the little guy, only to look back to the barely connected Mystery Data, and back to SandMan, only to gesture for him to approach. "Tatianna would want you to have this. A thanks for the fun I've had." As much as Tats wanted to take that thing for herself... PurgeMan had a point. It was their first time in a battle, and... they did amazing. "You heard the big guy, Yan. Let SandMan take it." Tatianna said, hoping to mask her bit of want behind that kindness her behemoth boy buddy was showing.

"It would be only fair after the rush of enjoyment I received for watching the vermin squirm under our collective power."

Tatianna would have laughed with her had this situation not been so tense to begin with. For once in her life, she'd froze for a second, watching as PurgeMan took those hits, hearing his agonized cries of rage and pain. It reminded her of their first meeting. She couldn't let that stand in the way, vacant eyes refocused, Tatianna sighed, and began feeding more commands to her navigator while she spoke. "Yan, girl, focus. We're in the middle of a heat. You're doing good so far. Keep the chips steady with Sandy here, and I'll keep Purge on 'em. This is called Role-Maitenance. You wanna make sure you keep your nav-" "Protocols updated." "...Purge? What'cha planning, babe?" Tatianna sat in a bit of confusion as she heard her dear-and-near Navi update his protocols on the spot. A forward march ensued, and Tatianna, trying her best to rapid fire type command lines from that fossil computer to override her buddy's angry steps only failed. "Purge, talk to me." "Death to the enemies of Tatianna, of Yan, of Sandman. Fidelity algorithm adjusted. YOU BEASTS STAND NO CHANCE AGAINST ME! AGAINST US!"

So there PurgeMan marched, weapon raised, sighting in. Tatianna, seizing this opportunity, gave the example she wanted Yan to follow by feeding in new orders verbally to PurgeMan. "Purge, sending a Tri. Steady aim, Purgykins." "They will fall. I will ensure it." With that, he paused, the brief quiet letting him focus. Those blue eyes flared, and he fired. Kssh! Kssh! Kssh! Two shots headed directly to the Swordy on the cracked panel, and the third swung itself wide for the Champu. Of course, PurgeMan wasn't done there, yet. With a raised hand, clenched into a fist, the panel beneath the Champu would sizzle, boil even, before fully rising into a massive column of flame. He only hoped the monster atop it would scream for him, die in his holy fire. Just to ensure it died, PurgeMan raises his weapon, and cycles to that belt-fed Purge Buster. Searing, sizzling rounds sail from it in its massive burst, hoping that each additional shot cracked the hide of the Champy and, simply put, removed it from existence. Any additional shots would be aimed closer to the floor in hopes not to break anything he didn't need to.

-==THE NIGHTMARES==-
PurgeMan: 90 HP
SandMan: Condition compromised - Engage defensive protocols

-==THE ACTS TO WAKE THEIR SOULS==-
TriArrowDamage: 10 x 3 shots x 3 targets
Accuracy: B
Description: Launches volleys of three steel needles at up to three targets.
Duration: Once
Element: Null
Trader Rank: D: 10 x 3 shots x 3 targets (Acc: B)
Expunge (8 Fire Damage) x 5 Hits. Shot Type. ACC: A
Panel Termination 40 Fire Damage. Ground Type ACC: A