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About DocterDuck

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  1. The "Duck's" pugnacious peepers briefly allude themselves upon the sight of Luca. Another ghastly gash of ozone is sprayed off from within the chambers of the titanic temple of a helmet. The violet-rivaled visor remains curved ahead in a jeering narrow of interest, yet with a slight distaste upon the approach of the elvish. The colossus' cowl slithers vigorously beneath the breeches of it's lengthy leggings, whilst the helmet above is jolted aside. The helmet's chin remains hoisted upon an upper-acute angle, yet the pupils above hang downwards with the thrilling of stalactites. The beast's posture holds firmed as sends a singular-stepped approach towards Addison. Yet, the eyes remain bramble themselves upon the elf, with a predatory piercing spreading throughout the irises. Another spasm of ozone follows briefly before a presumption of oration, however, the tongue becomes of a more taunting terror than of satire. "Shall another ounce of nobility's nihilistic barbarians arrive... once more amongst such an hour of the drunken? Well.. well... twig of the doleful aristocracy, I've simply arrived upon a peaking of information... and traversing among another realm for the garrisons..." The "Duck's" erratic eyes hold firm upon Luca momentarily, before switching a briefed glancing upon Anna. It's eyes remain nonchalant for the previous amounts of wheat-heaved merchandising it managed to collect. The absolution of it's eyes hold in a moment of both tension and seeking. Swiftly, the peepers roll around the angular edges of it's visor, as though to take a gander around for anymore discernible facades. The eyes widen themselves slightly upon the crowding of figures, yet with only a second's sparing to be drawn. Another rasping riot of ozone is spouted forth as the beast's visor returns back upon the sight of Addison. The eyes firm themselves back into a more deriding deal as the goliath's stepping concludes. The talons crackle down against the flooring beneath. The gauntlets aside remain crunched into a pairing of paranoiac palms. Another inching of the chin is driven ahead as the beast's pupils loom downwards upon the knight of masters. The "Duck's" cowl brushes leisurely along it's rightward shoulder, as though to barricade it's pupils from the sight of Luca. The felted fabric of the canopied cowl courses alongside the armory, as though a static torrent. The mountain's pace ceases yet again as it's mechanical motions fidget down into a slight-bending of sorts. The eyes pierce ahead with an interest of inquisition. The armory's posture fixes down as though a leaning crane. The duo of pointed, spiking shoulders rivet around before rolling into a swung dance of motion. The smoggy mirages of both of the skylines above and the beast loom ahead as it proceeds to proclaim. "Now... then... I've taken an assumption.. that thy futile civilization of a disgusting creed... shall remain standing upon this horrid hour? Perchance... yet, such negotiations amongst the drunken shalln't bring anything of fruit nor triumph... knight... shall thou understand of an arrival's truest bargains?" @Phoebe @Lucinda Valentine @PrettyCuteAnna
  2. The "Duck" tumultuously tramps through the entrance of the legendary tavern. A feverish and raucous rumbling of ozone is beckoned off from within the duo hollowed respirators along it's humongous helmet. The beast's colossal cowl crashes pompously alongside it's thunderous tracks, with the interlaced hooks of the felt scraping upon the flooring beneath. Ahead of the hooks, lies the bountiful boots of the beast. The boots are clad with a leathery burnishing as they plod their vulture-like soles across the pathway. Above the boots are seated leggings, with a pocket-plundered belt weaved into their waist. In a subsequent sight, an armor atop remains a distant, alienated obstruction of metal upon the colossus' appearance. A pairing of vivid, violet peepers lurk beneath the catacombs of a visor, dug into the helmet's facade. The entranced and mechanical motions of the mountain plow forth beneath the quagmire of the caliginous cowl. Yet, without the hinting of such designs, lies only the searing oration of the gauntlets. The gauntlets' wrists rivet around as feathery fumes of ozone spout off from their plates. The fingers chime forth as their pincer-like pads hold back along the cowl. The "Duck's" eyes dash around the scene's crowding, with a spastic gander of each eye being peeled around. The violet sears searchingly around, as though a python seeking a puny parrot. A series of clanking-clicks proceed from the beast's helmet, with the plates contorting around into a tightened narrow of the visor. The peepers hoist forth upon sight of Addison, with a splash of intriguing rising into their gallows. Swiftly, the beast outstretches it's rightward and gargantuan gauntlet from beneath the brambles of it's mired cowl. The gauntlet's fingers elevate outwards, with their knuckles drawn towards the myriads of mirages above. The needles along the knuckles hold firm throughout the fortitude of the gauntlet's plate plateau, as though a satirical salute. The caped canopy behind brushes backwards along the armored ramparts below, as well. The "Duck's" crunching chin lowers slightly as the mountain proceeds towards the duo of it's finding. It's shoulders are slumped downwards into a hunting hunch. It's eyes weld themselves downwards into a punctuated searing. It's visor curves off a glimmering of oiled-polish from within the crevices of it's caught plates. Succeeding around a minute, the metallic mountain's tracks cease. The goliath's gaze transfixes down upon the woman as another hoarse, wheezy exhaust of ozone is pronounced from the jawline. Only the monotone, though jeering, articulation follows. "Ah... shall the misfortunes of a befallen creed of chivalry lead among... the drunken desires of such a governance's foolery... interesting such thou proclaim? Yes... yes... quite interesting.. indeed..."
  3. The D-Squad's leadership would swiftly salute off a wedged gauntlet of steel into the breezy and brisk airs. The fingers would spread apart as though a curtaining arachnid, with the joints of metallic gloving running down against one another's own rough. The joints crackle off with a bust of a booming crunch, signalling the formation of the ironed salute. The salute hangs hurriedly along the phantasms of air splashing across the squad's luster. The silence remains hung within the vessel of the soldier without a tongue nor taste for the airy speech that could be pronounced. The soldier's stance as well, being as though a spear sprung from the grizzled grounds beneath, holds firm as though a stone. The armor is stiffened with a stress riding down across the profuse patches of plates. The tension rises as the squad leader's eyes, though with the texture of persuading peepers, hold themselves towards Rex. A bustling gasp of breath, with a raspy though diligent fumbling tone, is expelled from the breeches of the soldier's course lips. The man's salute lessens slightly as the winds pass by, wearing the fingers into a feathery bend. The breeze rumbles onward as another gaseous plume of breath is buzzed off from the soldier's minute mouth. A tightened and tense glance is driven back upon the band of brawlers behind. The brawlers of soldiers are clad down as though a ravaging pack of hounds, wishing for a taste of combat. Their weapons of cutlery, spears, and shielding placards are raised. However, only the breeze passes by across the crowding of a phantom's plume. The squad's leadership turns his gaze back upon Rex. His gruff and muddled voice preaches a whispering wilt of voice off. The soldiers behind tremble slightly as the man's eyes widen with a drunken hollow. "D Squad Leader reporting in, my men're awaiting your commands. We've got our weapons'a readied for the hour, got some weaponry off from'a wheezer. Probably'll be good, ain't haven't seen nothing."
  4. DocterDuck

    The "Duck"

    Basic Information: Cognomen: The “Duck” Titles: Founder of the Confederacy Over Monarchies (C.O.M.), President of Anarchopolis. Moniker Age: It has been actively seen for around two years. Moniker Birthplace: It’s first appearances were generally found in more arid regions with mountainous dunes of silt. Physiology: Eye Colorization: A fervent and searing violet. Armored Body Height: Around 7′8′. Armored Weight: Around 7.8 tonnes. Composition: “Mucus”. Race: Anything of a race was replaced by the substance of “mucus”. Voice: Raucous and stentorian, though with an alienated wheezing. It’s accent is a combination between that of Russian and Arabic. Appearance: The "Duck's" physique is as though a mountainous, metallic beast. A colossal cowl, coated down in a deepened hue of navy blue, cascades down across the goliath’s back. The cowl wraps overhead and around the plates marking the mammoth’s jittering facade. The facade is constructed into the catacombs of a visor-held helmet. The visor is curved around as though a pugnacious chromosome. Within the visor, a pair of piercing peepers gaze forth. The peepers are alienated and distant, with a nonchalant vehemence for radicalized liberty. A series of stocky tendrils of metal are wrapped around the edges of the helmet’s base, exhausting a fervor of ozone gas. Above the tendrils, lies a duo of metallic gills, exhaust too with a bundle of ozone gas. Following the gills, two horns of a metallized goliath-beetle are found. Above the rest of the helmet, including most of the armored torso, rests the catacombed canopy of the beast’s cowl. A duo of rigid, peaked shoulders are raised from the colossus’ overall posture. The plates along the torso below, are wedged and curved around on the crustacean-like armory. Yet, the plates are plastered down in a thickened paste of polish, leaving only a greyed silhouette presented at far-distanced views of the armor. The caped cowl also claims most of the armory in the mixing of an obscured visage throughout the bundles of ozone smoldering around. A duet of thunderous boots rest beneath the breeches of the cowl, with their soles being cleansed down with vulture-like talons. The talons are rigid and hooked, with trumpeteering joints of ozone. These brassy joints act as exhaust-ports throughout the behemoth’s composure. Moreover, such joints are commonly found nearby the gauntlets, which are as if a duo of sledgehammers. Their fingers are bony and pincerish, with a leathery gloving of darkened azure wrapped around. The arms behind the gauntlets hoist a duo of metal-woven crossbows, each with piston-like springs that run across the beast’s overall internal-filtration and structuring systems. Concluding upon the beast’s sight, rests a belt, sewn firmly into it’s waist. The belt includes a gallery of utensils and parchments, all sealed inside of pronounced pockets. A duo of holsters rest along the pockets, housing whatever means of firearms the beast would bring. The “Duck” is comprised solely of a cytoplasm-like substance, defined as “mucus” by it. The “mucus” has been shown to act similarly to it’s given title, yet an extensive roadway of liquified nerves and chloroplasts are aligned around the gel. Moreover, the “mucus” is shown to be a blueish indigo. Assembled from the “mucus”, the beast’s duo of eyes are seen as bountiful patches of nerves, eyesight, and speech. The peepers are quite similar to the nuclei of a cell. On the contrary, the beast’s psyche and consciousness seems to have been meshed into the “mucus” itself, and the surrounding properties of ozone gas. Personality: The “Duck” has been profusely pronounced to a frigid, poetic orator of its own radicalized philosophies on the concept of civilization liberation. These radical methods of liberation have inquired a series callous mannerisms towards those who would disagree with its actions. Besides the singular psyche of an sempiternal crusade against any manners of tyranny, hence the ideals of liberty, the beast’s personality consists of an ego. The ego has been shown to stir the metallic mountain to commit theatrical actions, in both speech and agenda. Moreover, these fashions of theatrics are complemented by the goliath’s verbose vocabulary. Beneath most of the mountain’s oration and Shakespearean motions, lies the pugnaciously political psyche of a madman. An acquired knowledge of nations, foreign relationships, engineering, several degrees in biology, and chemistry has fueled most of the beast’s intelligence. Towards many, the “Duck” is seen as a vile terrorist. Towards it’s devised alliances and other means of entertainment, it is a presidential and philosophic freedom-fighter. Towards its own psyche, the “Duck” believes only in the liberty of which it shall slaughter any means of tyranny. Anarchopolis: Anarchopolis is a recently founded metropolis of both copper and spectacle, formed by the “Duck”. The metropolis has been set on the marshlands of a coastal continent. Sounding tempests of the beast’s own mechanical machinations, mostly derived from it’s own “mucus”, have been shown to lurk around the boundaries of Anarchopolis’ grounds. Hundreds of chimney-like geysers are spread around the marshlands. These geysers produce surpluses of the beast’s own philosophical diseases, leading towards the marsh’s ultimate collapse into an egotistical inferno. Beyond the marshlands, lies the core regions of Anarchopolis. A stranded and militaristic amusement park was constructed as the first, and only, metropolis of Anarchopolis. The organism of the more civilized Anarchopolis are composed of wolfish hounds, indoctrinated in the “Duck’s” beliefs of radicalized liberty. Alongside the mutts, a series of underground factories have begun production on a series of automatons, formed solely from tonnes upon tonnes of copper. Anarachopolis is set as the manifestation of the “Duck’s” ego, and it’s primordial sense of power over domesticated civilization. The acts of the beast have led to Anarchopolis’ ultimate political state, a totalitarian theocracy. “Duck” Disease: The “Duck’s” disease is a commonly used substance by the beast. The disease is comprised of the beast’s own “mucus”, with a few varying ingredients in formulas for causing different forms of matter and such. The forms of matter range from the conversions of liquids to gases and so forth. "Duck Disease '', as pronounced by the beast and many of the disease’s spectators, is considered a psychological phage. The phages are shown to spread mostly through airways, such as the nasal-cavity and throat, to enter into a victim. The disease is shown to cause severe asthma-like assaults against the victim’s internal body, along with the mentality of being on a violet variant of psychological intoxication. Moreover, higher concentrations of the disease have been viewed to be more physically altering and sometimes fatal. The disease has come in several different variants, such as the “Dog Bog” and the “Fuming Fever”. The “Dog Bog” has mostly been used over the wildlife of present-day Anarchopolis, and is titled from it’s monumental success over canines. The “Fuming Fever” however, is mostly used as a biological alternative for processing energy in machinery. The “Duck’s” Artist Depiction: "Duck" Drawing Depiction Professional Artist’s Depiction
  5. Welcome to Valucre!

    1. supernal
    2. DocterDuck


      Hello also.


    3. Phoebe


      Perchance... Tyranny, liberty and cowl ;>

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