with a cherry on top.
Mar 21, 2011 2:58:16 GMT -7
Post by Estilo on Mar 21, 2011 2:58:16 GMT -7
"Fathers shall not be put to death for their children,
nor children put to death for their fathers;
each is to die for his own sin."- Deut. 24:16
nor children put to death for their fathers;
each is to die for his own sin."- Deut. 24:16
A T L A S_B U R A B I Y A
ofthe: L Í_C L A N
the red-hot barbeque, with an ice-cold vengeance
My name? at-las |ˈatləs| bu-ra-bi-ya |ˌboŏrəˈbīyə|
I bleed li
I stand at six feet and one inch
I weigh one-hundred and sixty-five pounds
Age is just a number, mine being twenty-seven
I'm a free-spirited man
But I've been known to be a bit chaotic, even when I try to do good
I was born in the land they call kuma no kuni
And, after frequent travel, have become the vigilant 11th kage of amegakure
this is my s t o r y
this is my l e g a c y
the vagabond journey of a c a n c í o n e r o
Power Classification
D - R A N K
"D" Class Characters may learn up to "B" Rank Jutsus. "D" Class Characters may only learn up to "D" Rank Mythical Creature Summons.
freebies:
• water release
• wind release
• glamour perception
Specialties
N I N J U T S U 4.6
free• agua (water)
free• viento (wind)
future• hielo (ice)
future• sonido (sound)
future• lumbre (fire)
future• tierra (earth)
T A I J U T S U 4.6
• senbon taitoku
• kenjutsu
• burēdono kenseijin
• protegra
• enten kobushi
• krav maga
Non-Specialties
G E N J U T S U 2.4
free• glamour
• phantasm
• pattern
• charm
C L A N S 4.4
• li
• yokushin
• yamanaka
• kitateha
Miscellaneous
M U S I C I A N - C R A F T S M A N
B E A S T M A S T E R
G R A N D M A S T E R
• C L A N
• C L A N
f u t u r e_A N B U
• B E A R - D I V I S I O N
Appearance
the face
• atlas wears a porcelain white mask on the right side of his face. its demeanor is similar to that of ballrooms in aristocratic communities, and he wears it casually, hardly ever taking it off unless needed. draped across his neck and hanging off a long silver chain is a pendant; the bust of a horned demon, smiling and sticking its tongue out. it is made of a strange copper-like substance.
the chest
• he's privy to long-sleeved buttoned shirts, typically white, teal, black or navy blue in color. their wrists/cuffs are flared, like a pirate's. beneath these, he wears a plain white muscle t-shirt. if he carries armor or anything of the sort he wears it over his shirt without shame or discomfort. if he finds a tie he likes, he'll wear it around his neck.
the hands
• he wears a silver ring on each hand, on both middle fingers, with the words 'non timebo mala' etched on the surface of each in cursive. an elephant hair bracelet is wrapped around his right wrist. he often covers his hands with smooth black gloves, made of a fabric like cashmere.
the legs
• he wears a pair of black khakis, held up by an old leather belt with a golden buckle. he tends to keep his butt bags on each side of his hips, not very fond of the lagging feeling they give when they hang off his backside.
the feet
• he loves his pair of thick black boots, which cover three fourths of his forelegs and are held together with golden buckles.
overall
• atlas has a slim but muscular build, with light skin and emerald green pupils. his hair is long and tends to be chestnut brown in color, but often seems to change with the season. in fall and winter it is chestnut. in spring and summer, after slowly darkening in its color, it is dark red. he has a small goatee at the end of his oval-shaped face. a charming smile always seems to rest easy upon his lips.
several stab wounds across torso region. any other blemishes or scars on this individual are yet to be discovered or made.
Historia
Chapter One
T H E • S T A R T • O F • S O M E T H I N G • W O R S E
"I hope you understand. That I'm doing this... out of love."
A bloody blade and a gray-laden sky. Tears stream down his wife's cheeks. She gazes down upon him with a strange nonchalance. How could she do this? To their own child? Out of love... love doesn't create this. Love doesn't murder innocent children. Love doesn't... it can't...
"Why?" He whimpers, curled up on the damp soil, soaking in his own blood. Dying.
No answer. Instead, a sword is slowly raised, held by the trembling soft hands of an agonized bride. With a whispered goodbye, the steel is abruptly plunged down and into our protagonist's gut.
The end of a massacre, but the start of something much, much worse.
Chapter Two
Awoken by the pitter-patter of cold rain on one's face, our protagonist returns to the land of the Living. Pain and tears overwhelm him at the sight of her blade sticking out of his gut. It is night time. He can smell the corpses of his party guests only meters away, in the living room of his house. Innocent bystanders, caught by surprise when she had begun her senseless rampage.
And somewhere in the horrid stench of that tainted house was his child. Cruelly taken from this Earth before he'd even had a chance to live. ... Why?
He begins to sob, gritting and grinding, clutching and tearing, screaming out in agony and pain. And after releasing enough screams to leave his throat dry and his lungs gasping for air, he slowly staggers to his feet. Hands clutching the hilt of her blade, vision bleary and blurred, feet slopping around in the mud.
Fueled by hate and a lust for revenge. But at the same time, trying to understand what had just happened. Why it had happened. To know what had possessed his wife to do such an inconceivable act.
He looks up at the dark sky, and embraces the sensation of cold rain wiping away the streaks of dark blood on his face.
Chapter Three
He stumbled out the front yard of his private home and into the dense, dark forests of Kuma no Kuni. Lost, agonized... dead on his feet with twenty-three inches of steel sticking out of his gut. He'd trudge on until his vision was swept over by an all-consuming darkness. By that time, his feet had given out and he'd fallen back into the mud once more. Unconscious, and steadily bleeding to death.
... Then a sound. The sound of mice scuttling in straw. A blade being sharpened, a fire being fed. A torrent of anguish and physical pain, hitting him all at once like a bag full of bricks. The realization that he is still alive. But why?
There is nothing else to live for, but bitter revenge.
"Or redemption." Adds the Illusive Swordsman, nonchalantly cooking a skinned rabbit over a strong flame.
Chapter Four
Revenge... or redemption? Our protagonist struggles with the conflict of mercy pitted against justice, love against hate, the right and the wrong. But within him, filling the abysmal chasm that tore open that day, a rage burns. Anger, fueled with confusion and sorrow. A fury that brings warm tears to his eyes, a fury that drives him to want to kill the woman he once loved.
All signs point to vengeance. Justice for the sake of his son, a willingness to carry the burden of her life on his shoulders. To sacrifice his being, all that made him human, in order to carry out this one last deed.
The pain would always be there... he was quite aware of that. It'd be there for the rest of his life, slowly biting away at his willpower until there was absolutely nothing left to want to live for. But as long as she still stood. As long as that Death incarnate still walked the Earth... he would have a purpose in life.
TO KILL CHARLETTE.
Chapter Five
Parting from the care of the swordsman who'd healed him, our protagonist walks off with a new resolve. He doesn't know exactly where this path will take him, or how long it's going to take, or even where to begin... but he does know one thing. He's going to pick up his sword again, revamp his skills, and carry out the deed he'd feared to do. And if that meant years of training, of traveling, of anguish... he'd do it. For the sake of his son, he was going to hunt down the retired leaf ninja who called herself Charlette. And he was going to put her down like a dog.
A year would be spent in hiding, picking up his brush and yatake set and learning the ways of his mother's people, the Li. He'd travel as an artist, perfecting his technique on the brush and on the guitar, hurting inside but always searching. Searching for her. Searching for revenge.
Eventually, his travels would take him to Ame no Kuni, the Land of Rain, and the country in which his father the Yokushin resided. News of a powerful swordsman would entice him to stay. The poverty and suffering of said nation would ultimately convince him to join the country and enroll in its shinobi relief program, to help as much as he could, with what little time he had to offer.
Thus, the dreadful story of Atlas Burabiya reaches the present.
A bloody blade and a gray-laden sky. Tears stream down his wife's cheeks. She gazes down upon him with a strange nonchalance. How could she do this? To their own child? Out of love... love doesn't create this. Love doesn't murder innocent children. Love doesn't... it can't...
"Why?" He whimpers, curled up on the damp soil, soaking in his own blood. Dying.
No answer. Instead, a sword is slowly raised, held by the trembling soft hands of an agonized bride. With a whispered goodbye, the steel is abruptly plunged down and into our protagonist's gut.
The end of a massacre, but the start of something much, much worse.
Atlas Burabiya, twenty-five. He'd completed the task his father had set him out to do. His days as a sword-wielding mercenary were over, and with his retirement he gained the luxury of spending time with his newborn son and loving wife. All the violence he'd been through. All the bloodshed. It was all in the past now. He'd return to the Land of Bears, Kuma no Kuni, and live out the rest of his days there as a blacksmith. He rather enjoyed welding. And when his son was old enough, he was adamant that he'd teach him the trade.
His wife Charlette seemed happy enough with his arrival, and pleased with his declaration of retirement from the world of crime. But there were moments when he'd look into her blue-gray eyes and wonder. Did she hate him for his year-long disappearance? Did she hate him for not being there? ... No matter. Everything was going to be different now. Everything was going to get better.
His wife Charlette seemed happy enough with his arrival, and pleased with his declaration of retirement from the world of crime. But there were moments when he'd look into her blue-gray eyes and wonder. Did she hate him for his year-long disappearance? Did she hate him for not being there? ... No matter. Everything was going to be different now. Everything was going to get better.
Chapter Two
D E A T H • P R O O FIf Death had a face... it'd have been Charlette.
Awoken by the pitter-patter of cold rain on one's face, our protagonist returns to the land of the Living. Pain and tears overwhelm him at the sight of her blade sticking out of his gut. It is night time. He can smell the corpses of his party guests only meters away, in the living room of his house. Innocent bystanders, caught by surprise when she had begun her senseless rampage.
And somewhere in the horrid stench of that tainted house was his child. Cruelly taken from this Earth before he'd even had a chance to live. ... Why?
He begins to sob, gritting and grinding, clutching and tearing, screaming out in agony and pain. And after releasing enough screams to leave his throat dry and his lungs gasping for air, he slowly staggers to his feet. Hands clutching the hilt of her blade, vision bleary and blurred, feet slopping around in the mud.
Fueled by hate and a lust for revenge. But at the same time, trying to understand what had just happened. Why it had happened. To know what had possessed his wife to do such an inconceivable act.
He looks up at the dark sky, and embraces the sensation of cold rain wiping away the streaks of dark blood on his face.
The mission was simple, his father, an influential corporate executive in the Yokushin clan of Ame no Kuni, had said. It required stealth, working undercover, building trust and, ultimately, extraction. The extraction of information. Important information. Powerful information. His mother, the Li, had protested at first, even going as far as threatening to tell Charlette of his plan. She didn't want her son participating in such a dirty business, especially when it involved her good-for-nothing ex-husband.
But he had eventually persuaded her to keep the whole thing secret. After all, the old man, his father, had offered him a vast amount of money to do the job in question. Enough to spend the rest of his days on a sunny beach, sipping Piña Coladas and spending time with his lady. He had to do it, and he was confident that he had both the skills and experience to pull it off. But it required abandoning everything and becoming someone else until the job was done. That meant he'd have to part from Charlette for some time... and he couldn't find the courage to tell her. To make her understand that this was his last job. To convince her like he'd done with his mother.
So he'd left without a word and disappeared in the night.
But he had eventually persuaded her to keep the whole thing secret. After all, the old man, his father, had offered him a vast amount of money to do the job in question. Enough to spend the rest of his days on a sunny beach, sipping Piña Coladas and spending time with his lady. He had to do it, and he was confident that he had both the skills and experience to pull it off. But it required abandoning everything and becoming someone else until the job was done. That meant he'd have to part from Charlette for some time... and he couldn't find the courage to tell her. To make her understand that this was his last job. To convince her like he'd done with his mother.
So he'd left without a word and disappeared in the night.
Chapter Three
T H E • I L L U S I V E • S W O R D S M A NA dead man knows no bounds.
He stumbled out the front yard of his private home and into the dense, dark forests of Kuma no Kuni. Lost, agonized... dead on his feet with twenty-three inches of steel sticking out of his gut. He'd trudge on until his vision was swept over by an all-consuming darkness. By that time, his feet had given out and he'd fallen back into the mud once more. Unconscious, and steadily bleeding to death.
... Then a sound. The sound of mice scuttling in straw. A blade being sharpened, a fire being fed. A torrent of anguish and physical pain, hitting him all at once like a bag full of bricks. The realization that he is still alive. But why?
There is nothing else to live for, but bitter revenge.
"Or redemption." Adds the Illusive Swordsman, nonchalantly cooking a skinned rabbit over a strong flame.
He'd met her on a job in Hi no Kuni, the Land of Fire. Charming, she'd said he was. And cute. She didn't know anything about him, but had no qualms about sharing a drink. Prided herself on being a 'good judge of character' and laughed when he'd given her a look.
Long brown hair framed her appealing oval face. She was all bright green eyes and sexy good looks. And she was quite cute herself when she wanted to be. Her name was Charlette.
He’d see her again. And it wouldn’t be long before they’d fall in love.
Long brown hair framed her appealing oval face. She was all bright green eyes and sexy good looks. And she was quite cute herself when she wanted to be. Her name was Charlette.
He’d see her again. And it wouldn’t be long before they’d fall in love.
Chapter Four
B I T T E R • S W E E T • S U R V I V A LThe wound that never heals eventually bleeds a man to death.
Revenge... or redemption? Our protagonist struggles with the conflict of mercy pitted against justice, love against hate, the right and the wrong. But within him, filling the abysmal chasm that tore open that day, a rage burns. Anger, fueled with confusion and sorrow. A fury that brings warm tears to his eyes, a fury that drives him to want to kill the woman he once loved.
All signs point to vengeance. Justice for the sake of his son, a willingness to carry the burden of her life on his shoulders. To sacrifice his being, all that made him human, in order to carry out this one last deed.
The pain would always be there... he was quite aware of that. It'd be there for the rest of his life, slowly biting away at his willpower until there was absolutely nothing left to want to live for. But as long as she still stood. As long as that Death incarnate still walked the Earth... he would have a purpose in life.
TO KILL CHARLETTE.
It was around the time his parents split, that Atlas Burabiya decided he wanted to be a mercenary. He didn’t want to waste his days away painting like his mother and wasn’t as good a businessman as his old man had hoped. But money was something he needed. Fame was something he yearned for. And he needed to find some way of achieving that.
So at the overweening age of twenty, he jumped into a life of crime and violence.
So at the overweening age of twenty, he jumped into a life of crime and violence.
Chapter Five
W A R • R I D E S • A • H O R S EThe path to revenge is littered with strife.
Parting from the care of the swordsman who'd healed him, our protagonist walks off with a new resolve. He doesn't know exactly where this path will take him, or how long it's going to take, or even where to begin... but he does know one thing. He's going to pick up his sword again, revamp his skills, and carry out the deed he'd feared to do. And if that meant years of training, of traveling, of anguish... he'd do it. For the sake of his son, he was going to hunt down the retired leaf ninja who called herself Charlette. And he was going to put her down like a dog.
A year would be spent in hiding, picking up his brush and yatake set and learning the ways of his mother's people, the Li. He'd travel as an artist, perfecting his technique on the brush and on the guitar, hurting inside but always searching. Searching for her. Searching for revenge.
Eventually, his travels would take him to Ame no Kuni, the Land of Rain, and the country in which his father the Yokushin resided. News of a powerful swordsman would entice him to stay. The poverty and suffering of said nation would ultimately convince him to join the country and enroll in its shinobi relief program, to help as much as he could, with what little time he had to offer.
Thus, the dreadful story of Atlas Burabiya reaches the present.
Iapetus Burabiya was born into a family that consisted mostly of Yokushin businessmen and politicians. He was the oldest of three brothers. His first sibling, Paiken, had died in war when he was seventeen. And his youngest brother, Kato, had become a shinobi of Kaminari no Kuni- only to be banished from the country and hunted down as a missing-nin. Needless to say, his parents expected a lot out of him and kept a strict household. And like them, he tended to be rigid and stubborn.
So it came to everyone’s surprise when he married Tempest Li, a free-spirited and cheerful young woman from Kuma no Kuni who was very much attuned to the arts.
And out of a love they swore would last forever, Atlas Burabiya was born.
So it came to everyone’s surprise when he married Tempest Li, a free-spirited and cheerful young woman from Kuma no Kuni who was very much attuned to the arts.
And out of a love they swore would last forever, Atlas Burabiya was born.
Personality
T H E • A L T E R • E G O
The perfect charmer, a man with a silver-tongue and polite etiquette. A lover of laughter and joy, friendship and bonds. Happy-go-lucky, some might call him. Just a plain optimist when it comes to overcoming problems and the like, but a bit rough around the edges when it comes to solving these problems with little to no collateral damage. He follows his own way, treads down his own path and respects those who do the same. He'll make friends, but he won't let them interfere in his one goal, his one secret agenda. The same goes for government or officials... even family. He makes his own decisions. And he executes them without regret or pause. A loyal ally when needed, and a free spirit of travel.
T H E • T R U E • S E L F
This man is dead inside. Hollow, dry and filled with sorrow. He is unsure whether he can really, truly feel anything but rage and despair. The alter ego he exhibits everyday in public, that was him in the past. That was who he used to be, before Charlette's betrayal. But this is who he is now. Dead inside, a personality that rarely ever sees daylight, save for some battles, lonely nights and reminiscence. A cold and calculating being when it emerges, demonic and relentless. He wished he wasn't... but he is. An entity with only one thing in its mind- RETRIBUTION.
T H E • R E D • H O T • B A R B E Q U E
The way of the sword, the art of combat... it spawns a new personality in the man, a different alter ego. Filling the emptiness that resides within, whenever confronted with typical combat, is the Red Hot Barbeque. He is disciplined, but playful with his words. Observant yet relaxed. A valiant warrior who fights with mercy and compassion, but doesn't shun the fact that he also enjoys the thrill. He'll help the weak, execute his own form of justice, and do it in style with his flaming red hair. Taunting is just another form of combat, another tool to be used when facing a particularly ill-tempered opponent. He, on the other hand, is quite patient and level-headed. Focused, determined and courageous. But even he knows that shtick will end when he faces off against Charlette, or any other person involved with her treachery and disappearance. At that point, he'll resort to his True Self. Then all Hell will break loose.
• • •
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