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Darren McCallahan

Unlike your typical rogue, Darren has no love for sneaking around. Often seen duking it out with the best of them, he enjoys his personal game of dodging blows as closely as possible.

0 · 411 views · located in The Arena

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Tetrino

Description

It's easy to underestimate Darren, when taking into account his somewhat childlike face, with short messy hair and expressive features. Even during those rare moments of silence, it's easy to tell what's on his mind just by reading his facial features. His unusual walking gait, involving an exaggerated swinging of the arms, alongside his flowing attire, further accentuate his seemingly prepubescent personality. In sharp contrast are the numerous scratches and scars adorning his body, as well as telltale rips, cuts and tears on his attire, indicative of a man who relishes and thrives in the chaos of battle.

Carrying a personal dislike for any kind of armor, which he complains "just doesn't flow with me", Darren wears an assortment of multiple mostly brown loose shirts and leggings, with bandages wrapped over them at his left forearm, left shoulder, both thighs, and right leg, all of which are haphazardly applied, their ends flapping about their knots with the wind. Over this are draped a few mishmashed scarves and cloaks, which serve to keep him warm, and also happen to make him look bigger. Most of these clothes being stolen, the one thing he can confidently name his own is the belt and holster around his waist, keeping his leggings in place and holding his weapons when they're not in use. Sans belt, all his clothes are cut in various areas; he doesn't bother getting them stitched.

Personality

Most likely thanks to his... colorful history, to say the least, Darren doesn't differentiate between speech and thoughts. As such, he's always speaking his mind, no matter how mundane the subject matter. Combined with his penchant for rapidly changing the subject, this often leads to irritation among his companions. This quirk doesn't let up during battle, and he can often be seen engaging in combat, just barely avoiding blows of all sorts while babbling about why some people prefer their eggs boiled and others prefer omelettes. Unlike your typical rogue, Darren isn't suited to working in the shadows; his tendency to talk too much puts him at a disadvantage in covert missions. He enjoys fighting right in the midst of it, dodging and weaving right under the opponent's nose and simultaneously slashing away of his own accord, all in a flurry of motion. Making a sport out of getting as close to the weapons he's dodging only serves to improve his reflexes, though at the cost of earning him numerous otherwise unnecessary injuries.

Equipment

Until recently, Darren had relied on the simple combination of a short sword and a dagger in combat. That was until he partook in an escort mission for a weapons merchant, and had to fend off some bandits. The merchant, while cowering in his caravan holding onto the biggest blade in his inventory, took note of Darren's approach to combat, and decided to reward him with a bonus; a set of bladed tonfas in addition to the coinage initially promised. No one else had wanted to buy the tonfas anyways, so the merchant had figured to help Darren obtain weapons that complemented his fighting style, and free up precious inventory space. Since then, Darren has been practicing avidly with the exotic blades, now keeping the short sword and dagger as backup weapons.

History

Even as a mere toddler in an orphanage, Darren was of a particularly vocal nature. It wasn't uncommon for the caretakers to rapidly lose their patience with him, which may or may not have resulted in one too many blows to the head. As he grew, he made it a game to dodge as many impending blows as he could at the last second, often angering his guardians further and earning more retribution in return. As his evasive skills improved, it soon reached the point where he could avoid his punishment for hours at a time, until the caretakers simply grew tired and relented. Full of youthful energy as he was (and heaven forbid if he managed to get into the pantry beforehand), he resorted to attacking them of his own accord, for the sole purpose of prolonging his entertainment.

Needless to say, he was thrown out of the orphanage the moment he was of age. Without a shred of currency to his name, Darren sought a living by doing what he did best: being a royal pain in the ass and stealing money off whoever was foolish enough to tire themselves trying to teach him a lesson. His childish demeanor also helped him receive the occasional free lunch or spare change by those naivete types who refused to acknowledge his shenanigans. Through sheer perseverance, he gradually hoarded enough to purchase his own weapons, allowing him to engage in actual adventures.

So begins...

Darren McCallahan's Story

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#, as written by Tetrino
Darren McCallahan shuffles his feet along the dusty floor, kicking up clouds as he draws a myriad of absolute nonsense along the rim of the arena. Twirling a dagger absentmindedly, the small figure yawns, drawing it out for good effect and hearing its echoes reverberate at him from the walls. God, he's bored. "Hey, is anyone up for a game?! S'about as dead as a headless zombie in here!" he yells out in frustration and boredom.

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#, as written by Tetrino
Darren McCallahan blinks, then grins, then cackles wildly, sheathing his dagger and in turn drawing his bladed tonfas from their place at his convoluted belt. "Yesssssssshahahahahaha! You just made my day, mister, I owe you a pie or three after this!" he calls out, his new opponent's question completely forgotten as he rushes forward into engagement range, whirling his right hand weapon around its handle in a circle.

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#, as written by Tetrino
Darren McCallahan has the look of a child in a candy shop as his opening blow is parried right as he shifts his weight on his right foot and his momentum into his right shoulder, causing him to move to his opponent's left in what would have undoubtedly been an elaborate move, had the parry not forced his own weapon back towards him, resulting in his side impacting the blunt edge of the tonfa and forcing him back with staggered steps. In the disorganized flurry, the man's dagger just barely scrapes against the left side of one of his cloaks. "What just happened?" he asks, as he regains his footing.

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Darren McCallahan shrugs nonchalantly. "That's a rather boring way of putting it," he notes, as he squats on one foot under the oncoming slash, the sword shaving a few strands off of his tangled hair. "Why not say it was an earthquake? Oh, oh, or a rogue elephant!" With that stupid grin on his face again, he somersaults to his right, lashing out with his left hand weapon at the man's shin in the process.

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Darren McCallahan completes his somersault, rolling back onto his feet and standing on tiptoes, arms spread wide like a conductor receiving his standing ovation, except looking back over his shoulder at his opponent.. "Ooo, you have a wife? What about children?" he rambles, while sweeping his left arm downwards in an arc, bringing it back up to parry the sword, as his right side swivels about, tonfa blade in an arching slash aimed for the throat.

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#, as written by Tetrino
Darren McCallahan loses a bit of his grin, his eyes widening as he catches a glimpse of the mystic orb. "That looks unhealthy," he comments, and, noting its destination, cleverly chooses to let go of his left tonfa, purposely unbalancing himself to fall backwards to his right, his remaining tonfa nicking along Drakus' shoulder rather than its intended target.. As the manifestation of arcane energy speeds towards the now abandoned blade, Darren curls his back, springing it back as it hits the ground and performing a flourishing backflip.

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Darren McCallahan didn't actually realize the nature of the spell that was cast. That is, until he completed his backflip only to be greeted by several icicles to the torso and face. Though he managed to deflect one with his tonfa, and dodge two others that would have otherwise stabbed him, a number still left stinging cold cuts along his left side, arm and cheek. "See, now that's just uncalled for," he complained, drawing his dagger in his left hand.

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Darren McCallahan nods furiously, a mock frown etched on his face. "Well, it's unfair for me to do this as well." With a quick flick of his wrist, he tosses the dagger up, catching it as it completes half a revolution and flicking his hand once more to send it barreling through the air, straight for Drakus' neck. "So I guess we're even," he shrugs.

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#, as written by Tetrino
Darren McCallahan vaguely wonders why he just threw his dagger away for no good reason, before shrugging again. Deftly, he tosses his tonfa to his left hand, then with his now freed right hand draws his short sword. An unusual combination, but what the heck. "Sure, tricks are fun to watch!" he exclaims, raising the sword in front of him, slightly slanted to his left, while the tonfa swivels with a buzzing noise in his left hand.

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#, as written by Tetrino
Testing.

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Leave it to Darren to not parry a blow in the usual fashion. Instead, he chooses to jump forward, smacking Drakus' sword upwards to the right with his own, and flaring up his layers of cloaks like a demented giant cobra head bearing down on its succulent rodent meal. Rodents don't typically carry daggers that shoot out from their handles, though, so he is understandably caught by surprise when the blade nicks him in his side, inches away from the earlier wound caused from the spell. Everything turns to darkness, and he falls upon Drakus in a tangled mess of fabric and flailing limbs. "Hey, who turned out the lights?! I mean sun?! I mean-- I don't even remember!" he yells frantically, slashing here and there with his tonfa.

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Darren McCallahan

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Darren McCallahan continues to attack wildly, even going so far as to perform a pirouette with his weapons outstretched. "This is why I hate daylight savings ti-whoa!" Tirade interrupted by a kick to his legs, he falls forward, instinctively using his sword arm to break his fall, then roll away to his right. The odd darkness alleviates as he rises to his feet. "Oh hey, I can see again. Did you go blind for a while there, too?" he asks casually. Not like he's in a fight or anything.

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Darren McCallahan carries a look of disappointment as response. "But you haven't even showed me any tricks yet! I want my money back," he declares, and brandishes his sword, lunging forward aggressively only to lean backwards into a slide, his leading foot aimed straight at his opponent's right foot.

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Darren McCallahan blanches as his opponent simply steps back, and quickly tries to halt his momentum by cycling his feet backwards, to no avail given how dusty the floor is. All he succeeds in doing is kicking up a huge chocking cloud of dust around the both of them. Realizing his folly, he rolls to his left, a smidgen too late to avoid the sword carving a nice gash along his back. A mixture of a cry and a cough left his mouth, and he raised his hands in defeat. "Monkey uncle! I give! You can keep my money! Compliments to the chef! Geez, that smarts," he winces, tentatively getting onto his feet.

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Darren McCallahan grins wearily, waving him away with one hand while relocating one of his cloaks to bandage around his torso. "Cheers, I'll be hale as hail by the coming moon," he says, while giving his challenger a thumbs up. "Thanks for the show."

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Darren McCallahan barks out a laugh, immediately regretting it as pain flares up his back. "Honorable my arse, you tried to freeze my balls off. Won't deny it was a good fight, though," he grins (again), moving over to his frozen tonfa and chipping away at it with his sword.

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"Eh, no worries," Darren quips, hacking away at the block of ice a few more times. As inspiration strikes, he delivers a powerful kick to the barely exposed tip of the tonfa handle, resulting in... bupkis.

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"I'll just wait for 'er to melt, then."

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Darren McCallahan waves cheerily. "Darren McCallahan, pleased to make your acquaintance."