[. Obelisk] - Revamp.
Feb 16, 2014 10:17:33 GMT -7
Post by .Protean. on Feb 16, 2014 10:17:33 GMT -7
Name: [. Obelisk]
Age: [. 21 Years Old]
Height: [. (6 ft 4 in)]
Weight: [. (245 lb.)]
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Good
Birth Country: Water
Village: Non Ninja
Special:
NinJutsu Techniques:
Age: [. 21 Years Old]
Height: [. (6 ft 4 in)]
Weight: [. (245 lb.)]
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Good
Birth Country: Water
Village: Non Ninja
Special:
Secondary Weapons:[ - Taijutsu Master]
-- Clans: 1|1
- Protean [Taijutsu Master]
-- Fighting Styles: 2|8
- Flash Arms [Mastered]
- Boxing
- Chakra Gates 1-4 [Pending]
- Chakra Gates 5-8 [Pending]
- Open
-- Releases: 2|2
- Katon No Jutsu
- Raiton No Jutsu
-- Perceptions: 1|1
- Shadow Perception
-- Miscellaneous Slots: 2|6
- Grand Master [Lightning Release]
- Grand Master [Fire Release]
- Open
- Open
- Open
- Open
[ - Chakra User]
[ » Chakra Gate User]
[. Birthdate: June 15th]
[. Nationality: Japanese]
[. Favorite Food: Sushi]
[. Hobbies: Mountain Climbing, Fishing]
[. Voice Of Ryu: Hideyuki Hori (Japanese), Troy Baker (English)]
Primary Weapon:-- Butt Bag Type 1 -- [15 Slots]
[. 5x Senbon][ - 20 Acquired]
[. 2x Smoke Grenade][ - 4 Acquired]
[. 3x Exploding Tags][ - 12 Acquired]
[.5x Kunai][ - 5 Acquired]
Personality:[. The Dragon Blade]
This weapon possesses no special abilities at this time. It is a family instrument that has been passed down through the Hayabusa family lineage, given to Ryu to protect and use when in servitude of his Clan. Only the utmost skill is acceptable when the fingers are wrapped around its tsuba, swiftly cutting down the opposition of his Clan's goals.
Appearance:[. Loyal]
First and foremost, prodigy is loyal to his clan. He shows no signs of hesitation when operating in their name, oftentimes placing his own ambition to the side in order to pursue a task given by the wise warriors of the Hayabusa name. He will abide by all law and order that they have established, easily denouncing his own morals if the situation should call for such a critical move to be performed. Extremely swift in murderous intent, he lacks the rational thought to spare the greatest assailants of the Shirai Ryu's enemies.
[. Just]
Ryu is a just man. When relieved of his duty to the clan, one will find that he does not participate in acts of unneeded violence or quarrels. Preferring to remain neutral to any situation, he will analyze before jumping to conclusions. The only exception, as noted prior to these records, is his undying loyalty to the Shirai Ryu clan. In the name of his people, he will take up the blade and enact upon any whim that they may desire of him. To consider him a weapon would be only partially correct; he possesses his own mind and the ability to make decisions. However, the influence of the Clan on everything that he has participated in has been deeply rooted into his very existence.
[. Vengeful]
Hayabusa appears to possess a vengeful spirit, often taking up the blade to deal with those who have committed heinous acts against the Shirai Ryu. Any who would do so much as threaten the clan often face a demise shortly after the words have been marked, be it seconds, minutes, hours, days, or weeks after the incident has occurred or being carried out. He applies his own morals to these situations, but will alter his judgement to fit the Clan's wishes. Only in times of extreme injustice will he attempt to find an alternate means to the Clan's decisions, though only if applicable; he will choose to abide by their will should there be too much of a confrontation between his emotions and their desires.
-- The Protean Infection --
Ia. Personality
[. Aloof]
No longer the proud member that his Clan remembers, Ryu is quite possibly an "empty shell" personified. The shadows are now his home, more than they had ever been. Beckoned by the discovery of the virus that plagues his veins, he spends an almost religious amount of time in whatever dark recesses will give his physicality a blanket of solitude. It is unclear whether or not his emotions are intact, as he is seemingly indifferent to even the harshest conditions - very little bothers him, and little more is capable of rousing him from his perpetual apathy. Circumstances are ever changing. This fact strikes fear into Ryu's heart. Could his decision be the correct one? Will he be responsible for calamity? His departure from the Shirai Ryu has come with a heavy price, and his entire life and mindset reflect that truth when not all is in black and white. He still retains his sense of fulfillment. But without the confidence to back his ambition, he is little more than a walking bag of dreams.
[. Contemplative]
The level of thought that goes into possible outcomes is one of Ryu's major downfalls. Leaving the Shirai Ryu behind and living a life of isolation, not even the impressive feats of his discovered heritage are enough to sate his appetite for accomplishment. Ryu thinks everything over with a straight face, and consequently he finds himself thankful that he has chosen to don the clothing and armor pieces that he does. With his visage almost always shrouded from human sight, he doesn't have to be questioned about the valley's worth of distance in those pools of brilliant gray. Even the simplest of life's choices is a maze of lifelines. Easily cut by forgotten detail, he is hesitant to accept or deny the myriad of choices at his fingertips. It has almost turned him into a creature of habit, something he had despised before.
[. Vindictive]
While Ryu may be less than a man of initiative, it has not changed his mindset when it comes to those who would seek to do him harm. In fact, it can be said that his hesitance is a further catalyst for the vengeance he proudly wears on his sleeve. The moral highroad is of little concern to a man who is now considered a "demon" by his own standards. Relinquishing mortal coil, he has chosen a life of self-service. Even if he were to don a headband, the passion of his spirit is e'er eternal. Cross him once, and you will watch over your shoulder until you have drawn your last breath. Ryu's nickname, "Obelisk", is a reflection of such a new edifice of grudge. While he won't move into harm's way for the sake of minuscule gain, he will double his efforts to give back to those who have negatively given to him.
[. Pensive]
The differences between being contemplative and pensive are seldom many. But in the case of Obelisk, it is quite clear that he actively engages his thoughts while performing his daily duties. As a result of the Shirai Ryu's training, he has honed his mental fortitude. This has created a conundrum of sorts; Ryu may take much time to have prolonged thought, but his active state of being allows him to multitask with great efficiency. To the normal patron, he is a statue of obsidian proportion. But to the trained eye, he is merely conserving his energy and allowing the world to continue on its course before he has to intervene.
Bloodlimit: [. Protean - Freed From Shirai Ryu Clan][. Analysis]
The patron, at first glance, is physically fit. His body is moderately toned, though most information that is granted to any are limited due to his choice of attire. He dons what appears to be a specialized suit with custom holsters for secondary weapons, securing his pouch to his back where his right hand may access it easily. The abdomen and appendages are all finely crafted, lines of definition spanning out over whatever epidermis and flesh lay exposed to the mundane eye.
The patron's eyes appear to be a mixture of colors, best described as a brilliant gray that houses different hues of the spectrum depending on the lighting or his mood. Oddly enough, this is only a cosmetic effect that holds no effect on his physical or mental traits. A sterling silver headpiece of intricate design and appearance is worn to conceal his forehead, accentuated by a fabric woven and fit onto the attire to perfectly mask the nose down to the chin. Various other customizations have been made to his attire, though none that are truly note-worthy at this time.
For a man of his stature, he is surprisingly able to maneuver extremely well. Athleticism and various arts of rigorous training at young ages has allowed him to hone his abilities, able to easily contort his body to slight degrees to enable better evasive maneuvers. They are only within the realm of human capability, but his Clan's training to release the tension from the body has enabled him to outfit his evasive, defensive, and offensive capabilities with a plethora of feasible counters and motions. Needless to say, he is a force to be reckoned with when strategically analyzing his opponent before action is taken.
Most noteworthy is the appearance of his eyes, being the only revealed aspect of his countenance to any who would cross his path. He appears to possess a stern gaze, though sometimes sharp or piercing should he choose to take up such a look toward a particular entity.
-- The Protean Shift --
Ib. Appearance
The discovery of the Protean blood within Ryu has caused him to undergo a dramatic change. While his exterior remains ultimately unchanged, it was the sheer shock of his unique ability that pushed him to take on a more darkened physicality. Relinquishing his shinobi garb, the being known as "Obelisk" is truly imposing to those who would look upon him. His musculature is fit snug against what looks to be a comfortable spandex, even his countenance and hair trapped within its confines. Those same eyes of brilliant gray and shifting spectrum are evident, though narrowed eyes seem to be the Protean's favored expression. Small chains line his form to represent his former captivity. Lastly, a single streak of pristine white flows upward from the center of his "suit". This is obviously homage to the life and death of the Shirai Ryu, though Obelisk would find it difficult for one to ascertain such facts without inquiring.
Of special note is a rather elongated cape of scarlet that flows easily against the breeze. A somewhat high collar sits up upon broad shoulders, a set of gauntlets and greaves lining the male's right arm and leg. Spikes of varying size serve aesthetic purpose, though they offer little resistance to outside weaponry; they are merely icons of hardship, "binding" him to the memories of his Clansmen and forever being brandished as the black sheep of his time. If necessary, Obelisk is easily able to pull the fabric of his head's covering back. But beyond this veil, even the mask that veils his mouth and nose will keep a satisfactory detachment from his "comrades".
Every shift is grotesque. Like a mass bulk that seeks to devour those who happen upon it, every appendage of Ryu's person seems to hold a secret of sorts. Unlocking their true potential has escaped him, but the few scars that line his body for a short time are proof that he does not hallucinate such drastic and unheard of changes.
NinJutsu Techniques:
[. Below]GenJutsu Techniques:
[. Below]TaiJutsu Techniques:
[. Below]History:
I remember it so vividly...the blade shoved into my hand without my consent, fingers instinctively grasping the handle as I was pushed into the darkness that awaited me. How quickly my innocence had been stripped from me. The combat simulations..the constant honing of my skill..the everlasting smell and taste of blood as I slew animals and the like in the fields under the watch of my superiors. The Dragon Blade was an ornament which represented the sanguine thirst that I could not grasp with full acceptance...but a necessary extension of my capabilities as a warrior. And in that moment of silent glory, I held it with such resolve that the metal rattled betwixt the walls of my digits and my palm. I would claim my adulthood..and I would sit at the right hand of the greatest of my Clan.Henceforth, I knew no limitation as a child. My naivities were cast away, the virginity of a fresh human kill was ready to be torn apart at the seams and stripped away..and my facade would ascend into an adamant expression of determination. My feet lead me forward and onto the mud, rain having cast itself heavily against the area as lightning struck true in the distance. I was veiled by the darkness clutching me to her bosom, only the streaks of light seldomly appearing revealing my frame expertly searching for the source of my blade's withdrawal from its abode. It yearned for the flesh of my target..as did my heart thirst for the freedom that I could claim as mine own should I have succeeded.I approached the resting place of my intended target, the sacrificial lamb whose vitae I would consume if I so chose to prove my worth to my clansmen. They were ever watchful, sets of cold and unforgiving occuli falling upon my every footfall. I was almost certain that they would have slain me there in my very valor had I hesitated, but no...my stride was absolute..it reigned with an unrivaled supremacy. Such was graphed onto my cerebral as if a second layer of skin..and my foot resounding with a loud bang against the apex of the door sealed my every gluttonous wish.My prey would lure me into the need to destroy the senses, upon which I would create my perch among the oblivion that rested only meters above where the sudden ruckus had made itself known. My speed was too great to have been categorized at that interval..and I was meticulous with my locations, sealing off every angle of mundane sight so that I may pierce the stealth requirement of my task with only the sharpest razor's edge.And there, as my victim reared its head out and stuck the neck out so foolishly, I would serve my Clan by further creating a diversion. Thus, I used rocks..jagged pieces of rooftop..all that I was capable of to lure him to a sound that would allow paranoia to heighten. Like the moth to the flame he followed..and there, on that night where the rain seemed to rinse clean my iniquities of no servitude to the Shirai Ryu...I descended from the Heavens with grace divine and struck the neck with the intent to completely decapitate my victim.His life's essence lay jutting forth from exposed veins as the heap of flesh dropped before mine eyes, the audible distractions vanishing as I dropped the rest of my makeshift secondary weapons into the murky substance below. I tore the head from what veins remained attached, skin cleanly cut at the point of the stroke so that I could commend my own perfection with the kissaki.Basking in such an accomplishment was short-lived, however, as I had no place to tuck the newly claimed skull. To what end would I need to conceal it? My task was accomplished..so why was I not greeted? I sat there upon the ground in the midst of the thunderous booms appearing behind me, watching as a large pool of blood began to stain my sandals. I had no choice but to hide the object of my obsession in the only place I knew that I could retrieve it later.....my stomach.I began to devour the cranium and all that composed it. The slave's body twitched here and there as I time and again cut pieces from the flesh, swallowing them slowly without chewing or true digestion so that I could regurgitate the most important parts of the evidence. Once I was comforted by the arms of my brethren..I would immediately confess my sins, and result to vomiting the entire head that I had eaten.It took time, but each piece was placed together as I lay bent over a bucket, constantly wreaking physical substances that not even I, in my wisdom, could name. To no end would any who stood there that night forget my necessary actions...nor would they forget the grotesquities of my youthful mind's thought processes.I would become a man..and I would ultimately claim my place among the great figures that stood with chins held high amongst the Shirai Ryu's prowess in battle. To this day, as my blade claims the innocence of any who would dare come into opposition of the Shirai Ryu...I still vow to erradicate every possible threat before I could lay myself down to sleep and forfeit my own life.[. Odo]We are rivals. I remember an expedition of mine that I took up during my course of training, straying away but for a moment to explore the terrain. I became a part of a small shinobi group, and there I would meet the object of my ever-constant uprising in power: Odo. Our abilities as shinobi far surpassed the rest, but in the midst...the thirst for strength was high and naught but an obsession that we both indulged in freely. My Clan was first and foremost..I would never claim a headband, nor would I ally myself as a shinobi of any village. Only the Shirai Ryu were my family...but I would take up the blade to better gain experience. Upon my return, I did not speak of Odo's existence....Should I cross paths with the valiant warrior again..only the present moment will decide the fate of our bond.-- Assimilation --
No matter how hard my struggle, I simply could not ignore the events that were beginning to unfold. Deep within the pit of my stomach, there had been a welling up the likes of which I could not have described with proper words. There was only the twisting and grinding of my internal organs, every inch of my physical being seemingly focused on that one point of contact. The night had fallen as my Clansmen were preparing to patrol the immediate vicinity. As the hour drew closer, so did an inexplicable hunger. The insatiable desire was so strong that I had fallen to my knees no sooner than when my arms had wrapped themselves around my person. The pain I felt was other-worldly. But what would happen next was far more reason for disbelief to settle in.
Without warning, that same feeling immediately penetrated my right shoulder and coursed the length of my appendage. My flesh crawled and snapped, even the sound of it disturbing my senses; bone and sinew were replacing one the other, until finally a sick and mangled limb tore through my sleeve and revealed itself to me. To have mutated against my will, and yet I had felt a momentary relief as I knelt forward. Just as soon as it had come, however, the limb was beginning to retract and morph back into what I had once known. I took to the outskirts of the encampment immediately. All at once, I began to search every memory that had settled for the notion that perhaps one of my own had done the same thing before. But no such memory would come - only the realization that I had done something akin to this when I had eaten my quarry. Was this some kind of punishment? Was I damned?
Eventually, I would have to admit my finding. Those who had watched over me for years could only cast a blind eye as I was told of my true nature....of my true heritage. The only word that I received was "Protean", and the only comfort I was given was that I had proven myself worthy on a battlefield where few could have done the same in foreign wisdom. I was released into the world without a single hesitation. And now, all that I can do is move forward with the question of where my entire life had placed me. I was alone. I was different. I was...
Ignorant.
Someone would give me answers. Someone....would tell me where I had come from.