Nutty Natty
Dec 17, 2015 21:39:00 GMT -7
Post by Natsumi Kamyuja on Dec 17, 2015 21:39:00 GMT -7
 | ||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||
APPEARANCE Natsumi stands in at five foot seven inches and supports sixty kilograms. Her body shape is slim and slender, with rounded curves and hollows all in the right places. Due to being a master in the art of Taijutsu, Natsumi's body is well muscled, although not unattractively so. Her head is heart shaped with black chin length hair and ivory colored skin. Her eyes are almond in shape and are a dark brown in color. Natsumi does not possess high cheekbones, but does have a harsh, dull look about her. She is rarely seen smiling and tends to look uninterested or bored. Her nose is small and lightly curved while her lips and full, lush and are a pale pink in color. Natsumi is not known to wear much make up aside from black mascara, black or dark brown eye-liner and cheery pink lip gloss. Her neck is covered by a simple reddish – brown scarf and is often seen wearing a short brown biker jacket over a plain white blouse. The blouse is buttoned up at the front with see through buttons, with leather straps leading down her sides, just beneath her full, round breasts. The leather straps connect to a brown leather belt with supports a brown cloth which covers her waist and sits above a pair of white jeans. More straps line across her thighs and hooking onto her over-the-knee pair of brown combat boots. On the jacket there are logos sewn in, mostly consisting of swords. Natsumi's butt bag and sword holsters scatter around her waist while her claw sits firmly upon her right hand. During special occasions, Natsumi wears a black colored shift dress with black sling-back heels. Her make up still stays the same, but during these times she appears a little more outgoing, yet still remains the same quiet, withdrawn woman. During this time, she also wears accessories such as four silver bracelets on her right wrist and a thin gold necklace around her neck. Natsumi speaks in a somewhat emotionless tone, her face never giving way to any kind of emotion unless she chooses to smile. Although the dress is quite short, it does show off more curve and muscle than most, and since she is of the Kamyuja Clan, Natsumi's physique is that of a highly athletic woman. If she is sent out on missions that require stealth, Natsumi changes into a pair of black cargo pants covered by a pair of black combat boots. The scarf is thick woven and black, and she wears thin black gloves. A black tank top covers her torso when the brown biker jacket changes into a black colored one. Her black eye-liner becomes dark, almost Gothic like but her lips stay the same color. Due to wearing such dark colored clothing, Natsumi's skin color appears porcelain as no shade of color shows at all, which is the same as her mood: dark. | ||||||||||||
PERSONALITY Disorder: |
Critical:
Ambitious:
Abrasive:
Buttoned-Down:
Solitary:
Aesthetic:
Unsettled:
Pessimistic:
Impassioned:
Introspective:
HISTORY
Dark Past
What was it like being born into a somewhat dysfunctional family? A Mother who treated you right, raised you like a proper child and gave you a happy childhood until you reached the age of nine. A Father who would sneak into your room at night, assuming you were asleep and raping you for four years until your Mother found out. The moment that happens, both parents split up and Mom sends you to see a psychiatrist, but you know that it is far too late for that; the damage has been already done. Several months later, your house get broken into and all you remember is having a sharp pain to the back of your head and seeing nothing but darkness for what seemed like minutes...
I awoke in an abandoned building. Rats and cockroaches scurried everywhere, feeding off carcasses and scraps of food sitting to my right. A dying lamp sitting on a table to the left. The glow it cast was not much, but I was well aware that I was chained to a pillar and covered in cuts, bruises and dirt. My body screamed whenever I attempted to move a muscle; God what did they do to me?! I am in a heap, partially laying on the cold, wet concrete floor and what looked like my own blood was smeared alongside the pillar I was slightly leaning against. Wary and disorientated, I glanced around the room only to find the most gruesome image hanging two meters behind me: my Mother's body hanging by a chain on a ceiling fan.
I find that my hands were bound tightly with duct tape so I wasn't able to cover my mouth. Instead, I roll over and vomit all over myself and the ground. I then hear heart-filled laughter coming from before me which turned my attention away from my Mother; thankfully. A man sat in a chair, watching how shocked and disgusted my face probably wore at the time. He seemed pleased with his work and I wondered if I was going to meet the same fate. But when he began to speak I recognized the voice almost immediately, and a loathing sensation suddenly washed over me like a bad odor. My Father had killed my Mother..
I don't particularly remember what happened then, but as he approached me, his cold hands encasing my ankle. I suddenly began jerking away, raising my legs and literally ripping the duct tape apart, freeing myself in the process. My eyes slammed shut as I rolled over, kicking my Father away and after suddenly looking up and seeing my Mother hanging there, I found myself confused because it looked like I was watching an old movie. The world around me had drained itself of all color, resulting in nothing but black and white. What had happened to me? I could hear myself roaring, screaming as loud as I can and the overwhelming hatred and rage that built up within me surfaced.
Years and years of being raped and beaten by the man whom had supposed to care, protect and love me. And awakening to find out that that very same man had brutally murdered his own wife: my Mother and left her corpse hanging on a ceiling fan behind his only daughter. It had been enough. I got off of the floor and charged him, all blind fury. A broken pipe lay on the floor, among a lot of other objects used by the building. It was the closest thing I could find let lone use. My strength, for a nine year old was monstrous, something that seemed physically impossible to comprehend. I overpowered my Father with such ease, I could have snapped his neck or pulled out his spine with my bare hands.
Instead, he fought against me for a while, my fingers encasing the pipe as I raised it above my head. I straddled my Father still, using my free hand to pin him into submission. Dad's hands were around my neck, squeezing the life out of me. But my strength did not wane. The hand holding the pipe went down, the metal cool in my hands suddenly grew hot and wet with my Father's blood. The glow surrounding him was dimming rapidly, which was something that I did not understand but I continued to hit him. The pipe ripping his face and chest apart, the screams I put into the blows echoed within my head as blood squirted everywhere around me.
I remember continuing to hit him until I suddenly grew exhausted and finally collapsing onto his bloodied corpse until the law enforcement had found us. Three days later, I awake in a cell, chained to a bed with a tray of food sitting on a bedside table to my right. A man stood on the other side of the barred door and asked me if I was alright. My gaze met his, and something about my gaze frightened him terribly, as he found that he could not look away from my face. I continued to stare at him, wondering what he was thinking about, and what confused me further was that I was seeing this man in color.
A laugh suddenly welled up within me. Raising up to the point when I began to laugh out load. It grew louder until more more arrived. My mind was broken as I felt nothing. I had lost my Mother and Father; by my own hand. Yet why was I laughing? It was not funny, I loved my Mother and just the thought of her brought back that horrible memory of her hanging in that building. The laughter stopped then as I suddenly fell silent. And that silence continued to remain that way for another eight years...
I had long since moved to Otogakure where I was immediately put into the Ninja Academy. There the teacher taught me how to mold something that he called chakra. It gave me the ability to walk up walls and trees and walk on water. Such a Godly thing for someone like me. Although I did not speak a word during the time there, I passed with flying colors. And the moment I was handed my headband, I tied it around my left arm, the metallic symbol showing proudly to observers and I waltzed out of the building and into the village itself. What would become of me now?
