Tipu of Zakuji
Mar 19, 2015 16:07:24 GMT -7
Post by Tipu no Zakuji on Mar 19, 2015 16:07:24 GMT -7
T I P U
Of Zakuji, Capital of Tsuki no Kuni
Tipu of Zakuji
Bloodlimitless
14 Years
5'5"
134 lbs.
Neutral Good
Born in Tsuki no Kuni
Genin of Kirigakure
Nonmoulding Taijutsu Master
La Rapière des Saint-Didier
Burēdono Kenseijin
Capoeira
Fighting Style 4
Fighting Style 5
Fighting Style 6
Fighting Style 7
Fighting Style 8
Minor Slot 1
Minor Slot 2
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Of Zakuji, Capital of Tsuki no Kuni
Tipu of Zakuji
Bloodlimitless
14 Years
5'5"
134 lbs.
Neutral Good
Born in Tsuki no Kuni
Genin of Kirigakure
Nonmoulding Taijutsu Master
La Rapière des Saint-Didier
Burēdono Kenseijin
Capoeira
Fighting Style 4
Fighting Style 5
Fighting Style 6
Fighting Style 7
Fighting Style 8
Minor Slot 1
Minor Slot 2
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Jack of All Trades - Universal Taijutsu
Personality Traits
Even Tipu's father once considered that "perhaps, more than anything, Tipu is bold." The boy does not believe in the boundaries set by man's preconceptions and is even skeptical of those placed by nature itself. Is this what makes a man bold? The drive to pull down the gods so that they walk equally among man? The refusal to listen to another's opinion of the limits of those who dare to be something great? The imperceptible shift in perspective where one gradually begins to believe that the boy will never give up. Every time he falls he will be expected to rise again. And if he does not rise then fear begins to creep into his heart because the only way that boy doesn't rise is if he's dead. And maybe death isn't even enough to stop the bold ones. How far does he spread his message after he passes? How many are inspired by the bold to go out and reach their dreams regardless of those who refuse to believe in them? That is the destiny of the bold. And if that destiny is not in Tipu's future, then he will carve his own path to reach what fate had refused him.
There are those who hesitate before putting their plan into action, who let doubt fester. And then there are the confident. Tipu is not unsure about his future nor the challenges he knows that he will face. He may underestimate them, and in fact often underestimates them, and might even be afraid of them. But the shinobi who is confident is not afraid of him or herself. They believe, regardless of what others might believe, in themselves.
Great men are not those who fight in for their own interests but for the interests of other people. That's what his father had taught him. And to Tipu, his father was a great man. Striving to be like him, Tipu has made an objective to be selfless. It can be argued that he might not always put others before him, as he is still having trouble understanding what being selfless is in his young age, but bouts of good still shine through the rough exterior.
Young minds are still being molded to fit the Earth. Even the resolute are still impressionable. Ideas of all sorts, from any source, of any message, may take sudden root in a young person's mind and influence the decisions for the rest of his life. Tipu, still being of this young sort, is still growing in response to the stimuli around him. Who is to say what will take hold over his malleable mind? As of currently, however, his father's achievements hold the greatest sway.
Appearance
Tipu stands tall for his rather young age, giving an idea for how he'll grow in the coming years. His build is a defined and lithe frame, which gives him a weight of 134 pounds at 5 feet and 5 inches, with an erect stance and domineering posture. His young face is made evident by his dark complexion. He has a broad chest and rounded shoulders with well defined traps and a muscular back.
His face would be almost completely oval if not for his cheekbones. They are high and round, and protrude somewhat out of the top of his cheeks. His forehead seems large because his hairline is comparatively high. He has dark, thick eyebrows that stand over dark, almond eyes. He has a large, wide nose and a large mouth with thick, dark lips. His ears nearly resemble the wings of a butterfly and are without lobes. His hair is dark and is kept buzzed.
He has a variety of dress from which he uses as his wardrobe, ranging from odd Zakuji headdresses and standard ninja field gear. Often he can be seen with the many regalia he wears to remind him of his family and of his home. The feathered necklace, for example, is something that his father is noteworthy for and wears it in his honor and pride of his lineage. The jeweled necklace is that of a traditional Zakuji make, glittering with dark pearls and well-cut rubies.
History
Part 1
For the first time, the Legendary Swordsman, Darius of Zakuji, held his child in his arms. It had been seven months since he had left and three months since the birth of his son and he knew it had been far too long. He silently swore to himself to stay with his family, no matter the cost. They had talked about this, he and his wife. When the baby came it was time to put the sword down. The city needed to learn how to cope without its hero. His duties were not to last forever, they had concluded, and it was time to pay attention to his family and not the life of an adventurer. Darius knew he was going to have trouble coming to terms with it. He had told agreed with his wife but he knew that his spirit was going to yearn for the freedoms that he had given up. In his mind he had been terrified of himself and how he would react. Would he leave his family for adventure? He might, he was unsure of himself. He had left his family before, his parents abandoned in the mountains where he had grown up, to pursue a life of glory. He was afraid of doing it again.
But now that he held his son in his arms, and with his smiling wife standing across from him, his fears seemed to melt away. His son, Tipu, opened his large brown eyes and looked at him. At that moment, the Legendary Swordsman retired from a life of danger.
Part 2
Darius had taken up plenty of hobbies since his retirement. None took up his time more than the rearing of his single son. Before the child, he and his wife had talked about perhaps having up to two or three children. But it became an unsaid agreement after the birth of Tipu that this was to be their only child. And, he admitted, the boy was spoiled as a result. Tipu was vivacious, curious, but perhaps more than anything he was bold. Children often spoke their mind, Darius managed to convince himself, but Tipu had been one to speak his mind often. He had spoken to Tipu in hopes that he would be able to curve the boldness that had seemed to grow within him. But, only time would tell, and he it did not diminish the love he had for his child. Even now the boy watched him as Darius sat at his easel, a novice drawing upon the canvas, and he could not help but smile.
"Why do you paint, daddy?" Tifu asked. Darius smiled at his son as he prepared his answer.
"I want to make something beautiful, Tipu."
"Beautiful like mommy?" he asked in an innocent but knowing voice.
"If I could make something as beautiful as mommy then I would be a great painter, Tipu."
"Daddy did you kill people?"
"Tipu, what did we talk about?"
"But that's not a bad question!"
Darius sat at his easel, unsure of how to proceed. He was going to have to have this talk eventually, that was obvious enough, but he had not found a way to say it that would make his life seek the same life he had. He did not want to put his son into danger; he wanted Tipu to have a life of love and prosperity, not one of violence and danger. That was not just his decision, that was both what he and his wife had decided long ago.
"I will tell you one day, Tipu, but that day is not today."
"Okay, daddy."
"Now, where is your mother? Go get her and we'll go have supper in town."
Part 3
Darius had been able to afford a nice villa in the countryside of Zakuji. It commanded a pleasent view of the sea while also retaining a respectable amount of land. While he was happy that he was able to spend time here with his family he had found the last few years of retirement to be difficult. He had not yet come to terms with the idea of getting old and he was often anxious. To add to matters his boy had taken to liking the blade, which did not bode well with him at all. One evening he was sitting out on his porch, watching his son, the tender age of 8, hold a wooden blade in poor form. His wife, Alina, stepped out from the house beside him. Her beauty was still glowed radiantly, defying age.
"He is practicing the blade again. He refuses to listen to me!"
"You have tried for years to stop him from pursuing that dream. Maybe it is time to take another approach."
"What approach do you mean?"
"Go help him, Darius."
"I do not want my boy to become a fighter, Alina. You know this."
"He just wants to be like you."
"He should not want to be like me. There is nothing good about what I did."
"You need to learn to live with yourself, Darius! What are you afraid of? You look at your son and you see yourself! And you are afraid of yourself! If you do not raise this boy, then who will be his father?"
"Alina! Do not speak to me that way! ... No, I am sorry. You are right. This ... isn't what I thought it would be Alina. Being a father has been the hardest battle of my life."
"Then you cannot give up, Darius. You never have."
"Alina, thank you. I love you.
"Boy! Tipu! Let your father show you how to handle that sword!"
Part 4
Darius had found it difficult to sleep the past few nights. He could not shake the feeling that the time with his boy was coming to a close. Not that either of them would pass on, but that Tipu would follow in his father's footsteps and leave his family to pursue a dream of adventure. The potential he was showing with the blade at young age was now blossoming into what Darius believed would be a serious talent in the field. Perhaps as good as his old man. Fiery pride filled him at the thought, but at the same time he knew that it was what was dragging his son away from him. He had discussed the feeling with Alina, who had broken into tears at the mention of it. She, too, felt like the path could not be changed. One night at dinner, Tipu made an announcement.
"Father, mother, I would like to say some words." Darius and Aliya exchanged a nervous glance.
"You can tell us anything, my son." Aliya said.
"I want...to leave. To go and fulfill my dreams." he said, shooting a glance to his father. Aliya gave him the same glance. The glance said the dream is to be like you. Darius looked at his son as tears began to well up in his eyes.
"You will always have a home here." he said, his voice breaking. "I love you son." Aliya began to cry, and tears trickled down Darius' cheeks as he shared a final meal with his son.
Part 5
Darius was in his room one quiet evening, painting when Aliya walked into the room. Even now, her beauty was unmatched by anyone in town and Darius felt unworthy of her love. In her hand she held a folded piece of parchment.
"Darius, this is a letter from Tipu. He is in Kirigakure, he is-- well I'll let you read it yourself." Darius took the letter, reading it.Mother, Father,
I have come a long ways and am finally in Kirigakure. It reminds me of home; I love it here. I have made friends in the village and have decided to become a shinobi here. I am writing to tell you that I have graduated from the academy and will begin my life as a professional shinobi. I look forward to the places that this will take me.
Love, Tipu.
Darius held the letter long after he finished reading it. He could not help but smile at it.
"I hope he is getting his sleep and is being careful." he muttered.
"I hope so too." Aliya said. Darius got back to his painting, but could not stop thinking of his son for many, many weeks.