Name (& pronunciation): Rykosar, or Ryker for short [Rye-coh-sahr or Rye-kur]
Age: Unknown. But he appears /very/ old.
Gender: Male
Species/Racial Origin: Human
Physical Description
Height: 6’4 feet [1.95 meters]
Weight: 653 pounds. Supposedly 235 pounds without his augmentations.
Hair: Short ragged dark gray hair. But no signs of thinning or balding.
Eyes: Azure Blue
Skin: Wrinkled from passing years, containing patches of sickly colored skin crossing his face, arms, and legs. Virtually every square inch of his flesh is coated in deeply carved scars, contorting grotesquely as he tries to attempt facial expressions.
Typical Clothing/Equipment: A large, faded brown trench coat with silver buttons. Beneath the coat is a tan colored shirt, tucked and buckled with a standard black belt. Typical jeans. He also has dark gloves with a patch of weak-red velvet on the palm side, and old dark leather military boots.
Detailed Physical Description: This man’s ancient form has obviously been through waves of abuse over his lifetime, leaving his face scar-riddled and rather unpleasing to look at. Some of the muscles around his face tend to twitch when he speaks. Most of his clothes worn and even tattered in some areas. Any large holes have been sloppily sewn back into place. He has a rather bulky and thick build with a bit of a belly.
Personality/Attitude: A man of old age, he is kind and open to those who wish it, always finding an opportunity to be silly with jokes or tell stories from when he was younger. However, when someone walks into the room that wants business done, he’s not a stranger to keeping a flat face and getting serious. He can come off as an unusual calm individual in the face of danger or the supernatural. But in a casual setting he enjoys walks, naps, and cups of tea with good conversation despite his playful cravings for a fight at all times. He tries to teach lessons or allow those around him to learn from their mistakes through actions done onto him, which he'll happily take the blow for, in the name of furthering the next generation. He wants to die knowing he made a difference in someone's life, no matter how small.
Combat Information
Strengths:
Weight – As it was noted, this old man is /quite/ heavy despite his appearance. Mostly because the weight lies inside. A large majority of his skeletal structure has been replaced with metal, most hypothesize it to be steel. He can stand his ground and it is possible, but very difficult, to knock him off his feet. It also makes his hits, even playful, very hard, causing him to caution when with friends, minding his own strength when he pats others on the back or gives a brief slap to the face.
Recently specified areas of body containing metal bone implants: Ribcage, Spine, remaining human arm and leg, skull (excluding the top of his head, nose region, and upper jaw).
Metal enhancements – In addition to his metal bones, he also has a few limbs that were outright replaced. His right leg and his right hand, the finger and toenails now resembling grey dulled claws. They appear to be made of the same material as his bones (possibly steel), so they are quite heavy and can pack the biggest hits in a fight. The leg is more apparent because of his prominent limp, the ‘clunk’s that can be heard as it hits a hard surface, as well as the whirring and clicks of machinery in the leg as it is being used for a more strenuous task like bending down to duck or outstretching to reach something high up.
Age – In his years of experience, Rykosar understands several fighting styles as well as how to work basic weapons. He gives off the impression he was in the military for quite some time in his youth. Common firearms and blades are in his repertoire, despite him not carrying any on his person. He also tends to be more patient and collected in a fight, keeping his mind from being fogged by anger or arrogance.
Weaknesses:
Metal enhancements – Like most metals and bits of machinery, his robot hand and leg are susceptible to rusting or malfunction if exposed to a lot of water. One of his biggest weaknesses are any electric based attacks, since it would channel all throughout his body and likely cause a large amount of internal damage.
NOTE: His metal bones act as a double edged blade when it comes, specifically, to fire arms. After cutting the skin, bullets are normally made of a softer metal than the contents in Rykosar's body and would prove useless in crippling him. While this metal protects him from bullets, at the right angle it can prove even more devastating due to the fact that fragments of the bullet broken by his bones have a chance of ricocheting off and causing more severe internal damage by ripping through more muscle tissue and severing more blood vessels.
Weight – Although his weight makes him hit hard, he isn’t the best at moving. In fact, he isn’t agile at all. He prefers to stand in one spot during a battle. His heft also means that his hits take a while to build up momentum, leaving him vulnerable to people who are quick and can dodge his slow attacks.
Age – Although his years have left him with wisdom, his strength has depleted significantly in comparison to his prime years. He loses endurance very quickly, relying on his metal to keep him alive and fighting in battle. This also explains why he prefers to move very little in combat.
Scars – With the numerous scars that cover his body, it leaves his skin very vulnerable to being reopened by a blade, or even a hard punch in the right area. It also makes it extremely difficult if he's trying to hide in a crowd, or make himself scarce in public.
Miscellaneous Battle Information: Rykosar prefers to not kill his opponent, but if they clearly have no intent to keep him alive, he will give them this same treatment without hesitation. Otherwise, he uses a 'Three hits' rule in his fighting. If the opponent is knocked unconscious, he will stay with them until they are awake. If the wounds inflicted are fatal, he will call help for him.
History
< wRHG Gladiator Subject: Rykosar has recently disclosed that some of the contents of this history he provided in his profile are in fact fake or twisted versions of his actual past. He refuses to give the correct information unless directly asked. >
Adulthood – With the years of his childhood and adolescent long behind him, he has trouble recalling any significant parts of his past that far back. So this history starts in his early adulthood. Having gotten a college education and graduated [barely, given the trouble-maker he was at his university] with a Doctorate in medical science as well as a bachelor’s degree in engineering. He used these skills in attempts to help invent better machines to assist doctors. After doing this for many years, he felt his calling into the military and soon applied, later being accepted. His specific skill set took him to the front lines on numerous occasions, having to help wounded soldiers as well as himself, being occasionally injured while attempting to retrieve some of the incapacitated.
He earned a purple heart by the third year of his deployment, later leaving the military after losing his hand to a thrown grenade he tried to swat away around this seventh year.
Later adulthood – As the years passed after his time in war, he still felt a yearning for combat fill him. He soon took on cage fights and even mercenary work to pay the bills and quell his fighting spirit. In the middle of this career, he soon found himself turning to his engineering degree to invent devices to better ‘assist’ in some of his work. The metalworking as well as his more rugged jobs also adding numerous other scars to his figure. After years of working for these organizations, he sent each head director a letter of resignation and was never seen again.
Presently – M . I . A
Battles:
wRHG Battle #1 vs Torvin (Win)
Rykosar vs Sirius (Win)
Rykosar vs Sirius (VoD) (Undetermined)
Bl.An.C vs Rykosar vs Ensiron (Win)
Rykosar vs L.L Bust (Win)
Rykosar vs Hollywood (Loss)
Points: 4/1/0/0
1 battle labeled undetermined. I won in the votes, but overall lost the round for the tournament.
Demo: OUTDATED
Spoiler (Click to Show)
At last, his organized walk was brought to a halt. The old scarred man turned his head towards the forest that neared the sidewalk to his left, as the right bared civilization and all of its horridly wonderful things. The scarred tissue along his old maw curled at the sight of a light in the distant trees. Curiosity piqued at the sight and being new [as well as homeless] in this down, he pursued the initially labeled omen. The trail casted a sound of gravel instead of dirt as his boots tore through the snow with ease. The path through these trees cleared enough for a car, but no more, to enter. The end of his journey left him at the sight of a wooden house, cast in a bath of dark and unknown things. The light being some battery powered lamp left along the railing of the house’s porch and also the signal that had drawn the man here.
He would have turned and left there, if it wasn’t for a bellowed cry.
“Get off! GET OFF! Someone help!”
Whoever cried out wouldn’t have even had to feel the dread of silence for two moments longer before the sound of wood creaking savagely trailed towards the house. It declared itself like someone was dropping weights on the porch before the door let out an agonizing groan, giving way to an unknown amount of weight and splintering in quadruplets; the hinges just barely dangled what wood was left along the sides. An arm with a clenched fist was the first thing spotted, highlighted by the rays of the half-moon. The hand unclenched as his figure stepped inside. His form clearly towered over them and he had caught them off guard, but even he felt a pang of fear strike him at this sight.
Three forms, one of a woman and the others of something humanoid, but definitely not human. Their eyes were only one color which revealed no pupil in the centers, uncertain of where their attentions were until they turned their heads. When they did turn, growths could be spotted on each side of their heads. One of them scowled, revealing a set of near hypodermic needle like teeth. The one that every dentist would fear had the woman by her leg which bled as claws dug through her skin, leaving faint trickles of crimson to drip to the old moldy floorboards. Her hair was dark and skin pale, eyes an auburn color as they widened and stared at the gentleman that had unceremoniously burst through the door. Having left his mouth agape at the sight, his pipe had fallen to the floor with a brief ‘clack’, triggering the first act of violence.
The humanoid not in possession of the woman was on its feet in seconds, running at the old man with a reverbed cry. Back bent and head lowered for a tackle, that is, until it finally hit the gentleman with a long, strung-out ‘THUNG’. It was like hitting a metal wall. In response to this, the humanoid slumped in pain as clawed fingers dug into its head. The thing was also noted to be bald from this distance so there was no hair to latch onto. Luckily, there was something else for the old man to grab. The old man took each of the thing’s growths, shaped similarly to half-hooks, one to each of his hands. He lifted the thing to its feet then a few inches in the air, where its feet kicked and dangled.
The humanoid cried out, howled, screamed, and yelled. It lashed out at the old man and cut his face, a mixture of crimson blood and black spilled from the man’s broken flesh as the he let the creature go and watched it crumple to the floor. In its stunned pain, the sound of machinery winding overwhelmed the night. The man’s right leg was swung back then came down on the humanoid like a make-shift wrecking ball. The creature went flying until it hit a wall, cracking some of the foundation, before slumping to the floor. It let out an agonizing cough, spitting blood and cradling its chest now riddled with broken ribs before going still.
The second one grew wise, trying to push past the old man to escape him. But a very similar event was repeated. It was like trying to push a wall, he simply could not be moved. An arm bent and grabbed the humanoid by his throat, enduring its claw lashings and punches as he stood up on his toes, mechanical leg clacking and whirring frantically as he used the momentum and his weight to slam the thing to the ground. The floor nearly splintered once the humanoid struck the ground, leaving large ominous cracks on the wood as the man kept the humanoid there. His metal hand squeezed at the thing’s throat, watching its claws drag up and down his arm once breaking the layers of his coat, but the movements became slow and groggy, like the thing was in a drunken stupor. When at last, the thing could fight no more, the old man twitched his arm and the force of his hand snapped something that sounded like the thing’s trachea, letting it go as he presumed it would suffocate to death. However, as he turned, a wide-eyed expression from the woman caused the hair on the back of his neck to bristle. He turned around to find the humanoid at his face.
With no time to dodge, more claws cut across his body. Luckily however, it had only sliced through his layer of coat, not yet penetrating the layers of skin. The old man went for the throat a second time and the humanoid was unable to hold his arm back despite trying to pull it away from its neck with the force of two hands. The old man brought his good foot back into a deep stable stance, his second hand grabbed the things back as he turned it horizontal and rocked the thing back and forth two times, the third he let go, which sent the creature into the kitchen. There, its head impacted a metal icebox with the force from the throw driving it so quick into the metal that it slumped with crimson dripping from its head. A left hand from the creature twitched then went still.
Now all that was left was the two, the old man with his clicking and clanks, the sound
