Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-32663439-20150320071751/@comment-29458028-20150320095618

Raytheon laughed as he flicked his hair out of his eye. He really, really enjoyed beating people up. He stood outside a bar, three drunks already fallen at his feet, as he had knocked them out with simple punches.

It began like any other fight he was in, except not with so many people. The drunks had mistaken him for a girl and tried to violate him. He replied in kind, of course. He was going to ignore them till one guy scratched his flawless face...

Cue the kicking, punching and headlocks, as Raytheon beat his opponents up one after another. six of them, all burly guys. Three were out cold by the time they got out of the bar. Raytheon didn't even get hit in the process.

The remainder indicated to have a go together. Raytheon easily sent the fourth to thr ground with a windpipe punch that might result in fatality for all he cared, before he slapped the fifth so hard, his slap drew blood, without his icy claws forming.

The last man, a burly orc, entered a berserker's rage, leaping at Raytheon in a downward smash with his two hands. His body was stopped when Raytheon extended one hand, stopping him midair, his palm on the orc's chest. An icy blast emanated from his hand soon after, encasing the orc in a block of ice, which fell over.

"Annoying twats. Scratching my face brings you nowhere" said Raytheon as he walked off, the cut on his face closing from a healing spell.