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Old 02-14-2010, 08:57 PM   #1
Oakapea
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Default [Rain Chuunin] - Nanami

Name: Nanami
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Height: 5'9"

Character Type: Shinobi

Country/Village: Amegakure
Rank: Chuunin
Division: Medic


Appearance: More developed than a teenager, yet still not an adult, Nanami hovers on the cusp of maturity. Her shoulders are narrow, her hips even thinner, and what comes between is hardly impressive for a girl her age. The medic's limbs are even more inconsequential: they're arms, they're legs, they're there, they're shapeless. The only accurate indication of Nanami's age is in her face; possibly in defiance of her late blooming, the chuunin's lilac eyes are sharp, slanted, and serious, and her mouth and nose are both equally as severe.

For her part, Nanami hasn't really done anything to distinguish her age. Her platinum blonde hair is cut simply, coming to just below the teenager's chin in a half-assed attempt at style. Loose black pants and a slate-gray tank hardly scream adult, but the snazzy black blazer Nanami usually wears over it makes her seem like she's older—or just a tool. Under this the medic wears a leather shoulder holster, one side clearly holding her scrolls, the other a pouch packed with the rest of her gear. Her black arm guards are also mainly concealed beneath the jacket, but as the chuunin has a tendency to roll up her sleeves, it doesn't tend to make a difference. Nanami usually dons a pair of dog tags scored with Amegakure's symbol instead of her hitai-ate.

Personality: Fearless; Selfless; Sincere: It's hard to imagine how Nanami is such a douchebag when she possesses such admirable virtues. The chuunin tries, really tries to be friendly, but it takes so much effort to overcome a natural predisposition for dickishness, and the medic tends to forget herself. She's easy to offend, easier to frustrate, but Nanami is nearly impossible to discourage once she sets her mind to something. The teenager is almost frightening to behold when she's serious, though luckily, that's not often; despite making it quite clear how much she dislikes annoying people, Nanami is happiest when being antagonized. She looks forward to the competition, and while someone as mature as she could of course never be goaded into petty bets, the chuunin enjoys the thrill of a good argument... even if she doesn't show it.

No, really.

Clan/Bloodline: N/A
Combo Archetype: Miracle Worker
Once per thread for one post, the Miracle Worker is able to generate an aura from the tenketsu in her body by releasing an impressive amount of healing Chakra at once. All those within the aura—excluding the Miracle Worker—are then regenerated by the effect of the Stage Four Chiyute. If the user does not know Chiyute, the aura will simply dull the pain to a slight numbness. The healing aura extends around the user for a diameter of 10 feet.
Healer/Human Battery
+3 Reserves, +2 Intelligence, +1 to Power
-2 Strength, -2 Speed, -2 Willpower

Statistics
Mental
- Intelligence: 1+2+11=14
- Tactics: 1+9+1=11
- Willpower: 1+10+2=13
Chakra
- Power: 1+1+8+5=15
- Control: 1+13+1=15
- Reserves: 1+3+6+1=11
Physical
- Strength: 1-2+2=1
- Speed: 1-2+13=12(+12)
- Stamina: 1-2+9=8(+15)

Jutsu and Techniques
Medical Jutsu
[Stage 1] - Medical Training
[Stage 1] - Caretaker
[Stage 2] - Blood Coagulation
[Stage 2] - Seal Person Frozen to Death
[Stage 3] - Precious Human Sacrifice
[Stage 3] - Medicine Creation
[Stage 3] - Healing Hands
[Stage 3] - Forbidden Technique: Dead Soul One
[Stage 4] - Poison Creation
[Stage 4] - Corpse Organ Transplant
[Stage 4] - Poison Gas

Global Genjutsu
[Stage 1] - Clone
[Stage 2] - Demonic Illusion: Vision of Hell
[Stage 2] - Sly Fellow Mind
[Stage 3] - Chained Mind

Shirou Suiton
[Stage 1] - Water Creation
[Stage 2] - Water Lily
[Stage 3] - Twenty Lashes

Fool's Bane
[Stage 1] - Bonuses: +5 Stamina, +4 Speed
[Stage 2] - Bonuses: +5 Stamina, +4 Speed
[Stage 2] - Tabakaru: Super Basic
[Stage 3] - Bonuses: +5 Stamina, +4 Speed
[Stage 3] - Tabakaru: Basic
[Stage 3] - Gokan

Inventory
Antidotes (3)
Zoom Googles (1)
Limb Armor (Arms) (1)
Breathing Apparatus (1)
Hand Weapon (neko-te) (2)
Weapon Points Remaining: 0
Additional Weapon Points Gained: 0

Biography
Nanami knew only distantly what had happened. Oil burned, she knew, and this factory had always been filled with the black sludge. Her mother, her neighbors, the vendors had always said that all it would take to blow the place sky high was a single match. Based on the smell, the flames, the chaos, Nanami guessed that a single match had been enough.

People were everywhere, pointing, shouting, forming bucket chains, but Nanami was ignored. No one had time for a child mid-disaster. But the girl didn't notice. With all the focus the six-year-old could muster, she was staring at the flaming pile of rubble that had been the oil refinery, eyes wide, hands cupped over her ears.

Screaming. She could hear screaming.

There were survivors.

A shudder wracked Nanami's body and she swayed, bile rising to her throat. They had to do something. She had to do something. Couldn't anyone else tell? Pain was rising in waves from the ruin, carried on the voices of the dying. Why was she the only one who could feel it? Wasn't it the brave people who were supposed to help? She wasn't... she couldn't...

She had to do something.

Clutching her eerily aching sides, the girl stumbled forward. Invisible in the commotion, Nanami pushed her way through the crowd; she had to get inside. She had to help them. As the girl staggered closer she could see the oil coating the rubble, knew what was making it burn. The heat grew with every step, becoming nigh unbearable, but the sound, the smell was worse.

Nanami gasped in pain and forced through a gap in the flaming debris. She was terrified. She was burned. She had to do something. She had to help.

The girl could barely see inside the cave caused by the roof's collapse, but still she pushed forward, clawing at the now-raw skin of her shoulders. The desire to find someone, anyone was overwhelming, but the girl could barely move through the rubble and dropped to her hands and knees with a whimper and crawled.

She bumped something soft in the darkness, and it screamed. A person. A survivor. Nanami stared frantically until he came into focus, but instead of seeing just one body, she saw two. Four. Nine... twelve...

Nearly blinded by tears and suffering, Nanami crawled until she was in their midst, feeling, knowing that was what she had to do. Her attempt to stand up was thwarted by a full-body shudder, followed by another, and another and another and she was being torn to pieces, ripped apart from the inside out and what was happening to her it hurt it hurt ithurtithurtithurt—

The screaming stopped.

Squeezed in the center of the carnage, Nanami wavered for a long moment, then passed out.

When she came to, stiff and aching, the girl was ravenous. Hunger was part of life in Sector Two, but never had Nanami been so famished, felt as utterly empty as she did now, lying prostrate on... on... What was she on?

With a small groan of discomfort, the child pushed herself onto her elbows.

"Hey, chibi. Stop moving."

Nanami forced open her eyes—sore, just like the rest of her—to survey her position and her aggressor. She found herself tucked into a bed, a clean bed, with sheets—white sheets—and was stunned to find that it was only one in a row of cots. The girl would have boggled at the extravagance, had her eyes not already been watering from the bright glow of cleanliness in the room. Or... no, that wasn't it. There was a window on one wall, and there was light streaming through the curtains and illuminating the otherwise unlit room.

The child did ogle, then. She had thought drapery was just a myth. Who had that much light outside?

"Christ, didn't you hear me? Lay down," the same annoyed voice growled, and Nanami turned her teary eyes to survey its owner.

"Why should I?" she sniffed, crawling into a sitting position. "My mom tells me not to listen to strangers."

The young man huffed, heaving himself out of his chair—a padded chair, at a desk, with mounds of paper, how did he afford all this?—and trudged over to Nanami's side. "I'm not a stranger," he muttered, grasping one of her arms without so much as asking for permission and starting to probe it, "I'm a civil servant. Hold sti—what the hell!"

Nanami held her arms to her chest, glaring up at the man in the white coat. "Get away from me! I don't care if you're rich, you can't touch me!"

"What the—you're in a hospital, kid." He returned the glare with just as much fervor, doing something weird with his hands. "Hoss-pit-all. Ever heard of one?"

The girl opened her mouth to snap back at him, but before she could his hand was at the back of her neck. Nanami went to swat at him—and kneed herself in the stomach. She flailed blindly for a moment, managed to smack him a few times, managed to smack herself more, before trying to open her mouth and finding her toes wiggling.

"Oof," she managed when she attempted to make a fist, and passed out.

When she came to for the second time she was already sitting, and much of the pain had receded. The hoss-pit-all man was still there, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and hands hovering over Nanami's face.

She blinked at him, once, and screamed.

"Mmggdde!! Bbmmmtrd!!!"

"No. You're not to be trusted with speaking privileges." He gave Nanami a stern look, ignoring her attempts to gnaw through his fingers. "I'm here to help you. I am a doctor. Two days ago you coated your upper body in burning oil, ran into an enclosed space filled with noxious smoke, and used every drop of chakra in your body. You're lucky to be alive, chibi. Now stop drooling on my hand."

Nanami stilled, and the medic drew away before doing those weird hand things again. Feeling much better than earlier—if still freakin' hungry—the girl peered at him with a mixture of curiosity and resentment. "What are you do—what is that?"

The man reached out with his now glowing hand and rested it on the girl's aching belly. She tensed, but what pain remained disappeared and took the emptiness with it. Nanami gaped.

"What the—"

The medic smirked down at the amazed child, drawing his still pulsing hand away. "It's called Chiyute," he drawled. "Healing Hands. I just repaired part of your chakra system. You tore it when you opened your tenketsu all the way up like an idiot, so nothing was regenerating."

Nanami stared at his hand, then at her stomach, then at his smug expression.

"Are you crazy, man? What's chakra?"

By the time her mother arrived, practically frothing at the mouth with worry, Nanami had been thoroughly and grudgingly educated on a side of the world she had never been exposed to. She had tried calling the doctor's bluff several times—you could not make it rain indoors, and he was far too wimpy to be able to cut a bed in half—but had been thwarted, and as such, it was a long moment before anyone spoke.

The medic was the first to move, dashing his soaked bangs from his face. "The hospital technically isn't open to visitors on Sunday, ma'am—"

"What the hell happened?"

Nanami grinned at her mother's profanity and the chagrin painted on the doctor's face, swung her legs over the chunk of missing cot, and announced that she was going to be a shinobi.

When the woman finally accepted the idea, Nanami was already a year into being a genin, and she was in the hospital again.

"I knew I'd find you here," the woman said proudly, trailing after the teenager as she made her rounds. "You always did love to heal."

Nanami glanced at her mother before shrugging, careful not to jostle her hands. Her patient made a little sound of protest, and the teenager scowled at him. "You're drunk enough that someone had to point out that you had put your hand through a window, and you whine like a baby when I take a piece of glass out? Get real. I'm not giving you any pain meds." The girl turned back to her mother, gesturing with her tweezers. "How did you even get in, anyway?"

The Sector Two native waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I told that nice young man that I might mention he lets a genin do his job half the time to his superiors if he didn't let me back here. You don't mind me using you as a bargaining chip, do you?"

On the bed, the drunkard groaned. "You're a genin?"

"Yeah, but you're an idiot. Now stop fidgeting or I'll cut your finger the rest of the way off." Nanami frowned at the blood smeared hand she was working on, obviously distracted. "I don't understand why Rokaku's still afraid of you, Mom. You've been using that threat for years."

"He's not afraid, he's just embarrassed. I'm the actual parent, and he's the parent figure. He probably feels like he's invading."

"...Mom, he's like, twenty-five."

"Yeah. I'd be embarrassed too."

They sat in silence for a while, punctuated only by the tinkle of bloody glass hitting tray and the occasional groan from the patient. It was Nanami's mother who finally spoke up.

"Why do you do it?" she asked softly.

"Do what?"

"Work like this. They haven't even turned on the tunnel lights on yet, and you've been here for two hours. Why do you always do this?"

"I never know what my schedule during the day is going to be like, Mom. My team doesn't meet every day. I like to get my hours in while I can."

"But... why?"

Nanami didn't answer for a long time. It was only as she was sending the drunkard his way with a warning of how she wasn't going to sew him up again so he better not screw that hand up any more than he already had that the genin spoke up.

"I do it... because I one of the people that can. If I can heal, I have to. It wouldn't be fair, otherwise—people would die, who wouldn't if I was working." Nanami wiped the blood from her hands and shrugged at her mother. "We have to use what we're given, right?"

Nanami wasn't given combat abilities. She had balls—massive ones that he was going to beat out of her if she didn't stop pestering him, Rokaku had pointed out more than once—but all the fearlessness in the world didn't seem to be able to boost the girl's pitiful attacks during her team missions. Instead of trying to pull her own weight with kids her ages, she rented herself out as a field medic to anyone that needed one.

She wracked up an impressive list of assignments as a result, but all the reports read the same thing: the medic was a liability, a burden, and her skill just didn't match up to effort it took to keep her safe. Needless to say, Nanami was pissed. It wasn't like anyone had ever died on a mission because she didn't know Chiyute or anything, so what the hell was holding up her promotion? Why wasn't she a chuunin?

Now sixteen, the teenager set out to heal the fuck out of the masses.

It happened about half a year later, somewhere in the jungle above ground. Her team was hunting a missing-nin, some defector from another country that had been wreaking havoc in Rain's towns. Nanami had been ordered to do what she could for the victims of his latest attack, three families torn almost to pieces, and had been left behind.

"My arm—it h-hurts," one little boy cried, and the medic glanced at his body before shaking her head.

"That's impossible," she muttered, partially because she had numbed the lot of them, but more because his arm wasn't there. He was suffering from phantom pains, but Nanami knew it wouldn't be much longer before it stopped... before he stopped.

She had slowed the bleeding, but he had already lost too much.

"I'm... sleepy," he whispered, and Nanami turned impassively to the next victim as the boy slipped away. It was his mother, keening loudly as she rocked, hands cradling her belly. She chanted as she moved, oh god, oh god, not my baby, not my boy.

"You're going to have to hold still if you want me to heal you," Nanami said tersely, but received no answer. She repeated herself, louder this time, but the woman wouldn't stop moving, wouldn't open her eyes.

Fuck it, then, the medic thought in frustration, and moved on to the next patient as the mother slowly bled out behind her. This new man let her close the gash decorating his chest without protest, speaking only as she made the last stitch.

"He's back," the man whimpered, and outside Nanami's makeshift hospital, someone screamed.

It was a matter of minutes before the medic was cornered in one of the last standing house, surrounded by flames and death and bleeding profusely. Her her leg was ripped open from ankle to thigh, as per the nuke-nin's style, and the reaper himself was at the doorway, leaning casually against the burning wood.

At least there's not oil this time, the genin thought, and choked on a bloody laugh. She was suffocating in the smoke, bleeding to death, and he was watching. He meant for her to suffer, she who had spared the others, made their deaths painless, ended his fun prematurely. Her death would be agonizing.

Nanami tried to be satisfied at her sacrifice, but felt nothing except light-headed.

I didn't do anything, she realized then, remembering the mother's mantra, the boy's fear. In her quest for a resume, for promotion, for the masses, Nanami had forgotten the individual.

She was worthless. She didn't want to die. She was afraid.

Nanami screamed.

At the doorway the m-nin smiled, said something the genin couldn't hear over the flames, and—fell.

Nanami could just barely see one of her teammates panting at the door, a jounin she had never worked with before, whose name she didn't know. His eyes sought her out for a moment, reassuring, confident, before focusing back on the murderer.

"I'm going to kill you both," the nuke-nin laughed, and lunged.

They were both too powerful for it to last long. Nanami had dragged herself after them, dodging falling beams and fresh corpses, and had finally found the nuke-nin among their number. She would have collapsed then, uncaring, wanted to, but she had to find her teammate, had to thank him, had to—

Her eyes fixed on the body propped up against a charred foundation. No.

No.

The genin limped to the jounin's side, legs crumpling practically before she was there. His eyes opened—good, so he wasn't dead, not yet—and the man fixed the teenager with a weary smile.

"You're alive," he said, sounding genuinely happy, and something inside of the medic broke.

"W-we have to get you patched up so the others can get you home." It took several tries to get through one set of a handseals, but when she finally managed it, nothing happened. She tried again, and again, but there was nothing to draw from, nothing left that she hadn't already spent on the villagers.

Give me a miracle, the teenager prayed, and opened her tenketsu.

"Shit," Nanami gasped, clutching her stomach as her body convulsed. "Shit, shit shit come on don't do this come on—" She gagged on blood and bile, head spinning, pushing out chakra she didn't have.

Why was she the only one here? Wasn't it the brave people who were supposed to help? She wasn't... she couldn't...

She had to do something.

"I-I can't," she choked, still trying. "Christ, I can't—"

"It's okay," the shinobi murmured, moving one bloodied hand to rest on Nanami's good knee. "I've had worse. You're completely drained, kid. Stop trying."

"You haven't had worse," she snapped, fumbling for something, anything she had that might help. "You're dying."

The jounin smiled, still calm, and gently squeezed Nanami's knee. "Don't cry, kid. Mission accomplished, right?"

"I'm not crying," she snarled, but he was dead.
-+-

A year passed that Nanami didn't venture above ground. The teenager spent hours working in the various sectors' clinics, taking local missions, even tutoring those children brave enough to ask for help. Both her mother and mentor started noticing changes in the teenager: some of her brusqueness faded, she occasionally made hints that maybe they weren't as annoying as she had previously thought, and despite the girl's hoss-pit-all hours going up, her patient quota did not.

Rokaku was the first one to realize it, and he called the girl's mother immediately in spite of his still-acute embarrassment.

"She's trying to be personable," he whispered, and the two had spent a half hour in mutually stunned silence.

The ever-amiable teenager wasn't just making friends, either—well, actually, she wasn't really nice enough to make friends yet, anyway—she was learning. Training.

The first above-ground-mission report filed with the genin's name in it after her sabbatical listed the Nanami as tragically under-ranked, and after her next ten came in with the same description, the girl was promoted.

Thread Log
[04/26/10] - Accident Prone
[08/16/10] - Hefty Hefty Hefty [Stage One Fool's Bane]
[04/08/14] - I Scream Social [Stage Two Fool's Bane], +1 Willpower
[08/15/14] - Slicing Showers [Twenty Lashes], +1 Willpower
[08/21/14] - Downpour [Corpse Organ Transplant], +1 Tactics, +1 Power
[09/14/14] - Toxic Clouds [Stage Three Fool's Bane]
[09/16/14] - A Passing Storm [Tabakaru: Super Basic], +1 Power
[09/20/14] - Sugar Rush [Medicine Creation], +1 Power
[09/26/14] - Come Hail or High Water [Dead Soul One], [Poison Gas], +1 Reserves, +1 Control
[11/08/14] - Purple Rain [Seal Person Frozen to Death], [Tabakaru: Basic], +1 Power
[07/19/15] - Spinal Tap [Gokan], +1 Power

Last edited by Hitoko; 10-07-2015 at 03:26 PM..
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Old 02-20-2010, 08:59 PM   #2
Juushichi
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*Eyes narrow*

I've already had to pick at this bio a few times before, Oak. So you're supposed to know what I expect. I only have two words for you.

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Last edited by Juushichi; 02-21-2010 at 12:24 AM..
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Old 02-20-2010, 09:37 PM   #3
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Gotta love dat strength.

Approved/2.
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Old 02-21-2010, 04:50 PM   #4
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Well. Everything checks out.

Approved.
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Old 02-21-2010, 04:56 PM   #5
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Looks fine Missy. Half Approved. Try not to suck too much, 'k? :3
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