(Alright. I guess I'm first up to present an OC.)
Name: Ezgo
Gender: Male
Species: Grey Fox (Anthro Variant)
Height: 5'9" / 1.75 Metres
Weight: 1.5 tons.
The fox looked across the rickety, semi-rotten-wood table, upon which flickered the flame of a single wax candle. Its light was really only enough to illuminate the fox, and his metallic parts. His right eye had been replaced with a bright red lens that stuck about about an inch off his face, with a few knobs on it for view adjustment. Upon his wrists were two gauntlets, the right of the pair actually having a clicking, mechanical hand and matching arm. On the outer sides of each gauntlet was a blade, with two extendable, smaller blades, which at the base had a hinge and tubing, allowing large quantities of steam to be blow out of it, like a scalding flamethrower minus the fire. Across his chest was a large metal plate, with an open shirt covering the sides, but leaving the metal chest exposed. It was a needed opening, as various gauges and valves were placed there, along with many complicated tubes that led to every place that seemed to need energy. Two fully artificial arms loomed over his back, an exact copy of his normal pair, with one over each shoulder. They were jointed, so they could bend like normal arms, but also able to swerve under his arms if need be. They also had heavy plating that could be used as shielding, and openings on the palms, where small blasting chargers were constantly loaded by an internal reloading mechanism. He also wore a large black duster, which went down to his ankles, and had a large steam pump on his back, reinforced of course.
Speaking of his legs, the left one had a metallic frame around it, with hinges and joints placed at intervals to allow the leg normal movement. This was necessary, due to his right being entirely made of metal, looking much like a leg of plate armor, only welding and hinged, with a bit of tubing to provide fuel for it. He wore there, a pair of green work pants, and a thick leather boot on his left footpaw, although it looked to have some sort of device on its sole. At his waist was a toolbelt, from which hug a small pouch, which he would keep tools in, a holster for a blackpowder six-shot revolver, and various attachments for his secondary arms, as well as a machete, which he referred to as his 'surgical knife'. (And a spare hand for his primary right arm.) His tail twitched.
He put his fingers together, an odd contrast of the dull leather of the glove on his left hand to the almost copper color of the metal of his right. "So, you wish to know of me? What is there to know? How I function? Ha!" He threw his hands into the air. "It is simple! You see, through years of fighting and experimenting, the latter having been the reason for all of these glorious steel on me, I have acquired quite the taste for.... bettering... myself. At first, I didn't know if it was a safe procedure, so I experimented on a few people who would pass me by on the streets, raising her hands at me in some odd gesture that means who knows what! How dare they! They might be insulting me! So they were perfect subjects as I went through the testing. Did you know that you shouldn't mix skin with steam? My second subject found that out the hard way! Ha! But then... everyone fell asleep for some reason.. And people started to hate me... So I experimented on those who came to hate me, too! And I learned such fascinating things! Like that a blade made of exactly 56.3% pure silver, 24% iron, and 19.7% bone is the best for cutting through heavy armors? So intriguing! But enough about me, what about you?" He pointed a finger at his partner in conversation.
The wall remained silent.
