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Old 02-12-2011, 05:53 PM   #1
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Default Gun Hid'un - KISEO

Name: Gun Hid'un
Age: 30
Sex: Male
Height: 6'5"

Character Type: Shinobi
Country/Village: Kusagakure
Rank: Jounin
Division: KISEO Lieutenant

"The truth is that every intelligent man, as you know, dreams of being a gangster and of ruling over society by force alone. As it is not so easy as the detective novels might lead one to believe, one generally relies on politics and joins the cruelest party.What does it matter, after all, if by humiliating one's mind one succeeds in dominating every one? I discovered in myself sweet dreams of oppression."

Physical Description: At a glance, Hid’un’s appearance says one thing: Don’t fuck with me. The clansman’s tall frame is filled out with massive waves of rippling, sinewy muscle and his distinctive rusty brown skin is littered with a multitude of scars. The most discernibly noticeable of these battle mementos include a large scar across his right cheek and another that runs from under his right eye across the bridge of his nose. Hid’un has a sharp square face and the strong, stern jawline of an action star; it’s usually covered in a gruff layer of dark facial hair. His nose, however, is far from handsome: it sits in the middle of his face with a crunched and jagged crook, the result of numerous breaks and blows to the faces.

On either side of this crooked beak one finds his eyes, those dark and fathomless pits. Like the rest of his clansmen, Hid’un’s eyes are a deep, dark, animal black. While these raven orbs ordinarily hold a look of austerity and would seem customarily predisposed to expressions of frenzied anger and ire, they are nonetheless quite capable of conveying the normal range of human emotion. Over his eyes extends a prominent brow on which grow frizzy, dark eyebrows. Hid’un prefers to keep his wild and rough black hair either cut short, tied back and out of the way.

Clothing: Hid’un’s wardrobe is a simple one. He normally wears a red-orange or charcoal gi with the sleeves ripped off and a large Gun clan symbol adorning the back. When on duty or trying to be less conspicuous, he often wears a long, gray trench coat over his gi complete with a matching gray hat. Hid’un's forehead protector is used as a buckle on his rope belt which in turn holds up his matching red-orange pants and carries a small pouch or two. He sports the usual shinobi sandals but is also fond of going barefoot.

Hid'un's forearms and shins are always wrapped - as a Gun, you never know when the next fight might break out. These wraps not only provide more protection than one might expect, but also hide an extendable pair of spikes that the Jounin enjoys employing in hand-to-hand combat. The detective's other favorite weapon is a returning bola with the ability to morph into other items; he usually wears it around his neck as an oversized bead necklace.

Personality: Hid’un is a proud man. He takes great pride in being a Gun: the culture and traditions of his people resonate throughout the core of his being. Hid’un also has a great sense of personal pride - he takes his work seriously and places great value upon honor. That being said, Hid’un doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially anyone insulting the Gun. Someone who plans to do so better have extensive medical coverage.

Hid’un is a confident man. Hid’un has a seemingly never ending supply of self-confidence that borders somewhere between dauntlessness and arrogance. Hid'un is never one to back down from a challenge, even if grossly disadvantaged. Like they say, the Gun never retreat.

Hid'un is a brash man. He never hesitates in giving his profanity-filled opinion; though ever since becoming a father, he tries to hold back a few of the obscenities. Hid’un is characteristically short-tempered and all but immune to the frustrations of living in a bureaucratic and political world. Despite his brazen attitude, Hid'un retains a noticeable degree of rationality and recognizes that his fists cannot solve all problems (though they've proved rather effective thus far).

Hid’un is a caring man. Just because he is a Gun doesn’t mean Hid’un can be reduced to a two-dimensional caricature of brutish anger. Though he usually comes across as gruff and possibly standoffish, the Jounin loves his clan members dearly and little else is as dear to him as his wife and daughter. This capacity for adoration can also lend itself to those outside the clan, given that they have proved themselves worthy. Hid’un has a soft spot for children and nothing grinds his gears more than a child who refuses to stand up for themself.

Hid’un is an orderly man. Though they frequently frustrate him, he understands the importance of rules, routine, and traditions whether they be those of his clan or those of Kusagakure. With Hid’un, discipline is expected. Those below him who step out of line are met with a death stare and if need be, a few bruises.

Hid’un is a human. He may be a powerful, high-ranking and seemingly unwavering Gun shinobi, but this doesn’t mean he is devoid of fear, worry, sorrow, insecurity or regret. The future and well-being of his clan is a constant worry. Additionally, every once and a while, there creeps lingering self-doubt; the doubt that, in the face of the world, he may not have what it takes to ensure his clan a prosperous future. Nothing unnerves him more than the idea that his fate may not rest in his own two powerful hands.

Nindo: My scars are those of my clan; a Gun never dies without any scars.

Clan/Bloodline: Gun, Bloodline Clan of Grass

Primary Archetype:

Secondary Archetype:

Uncanny Smell
It is physically impossible for a human being to track by scent, which makes the user such a puzzle to the medical community. They can smell poison in food and identify others within arms length by their scent. The user can also detect when something becomes off in an area they are familiar with, whether through the faint scent of smoke from a fire or the smell of deadly poison floating down through the vents.



[x] = Archetype merits/flaws
[x] = Pool Points
[x] = Taijutsu Bonuses

Physical (Primary)

Strength: 1 + 1 + 23 = 25+ [22 = 47]
Speed: 1 - 1 + 17 = 17 + [5 = 22]
Stamina: 1 + 2 + 1 + 20 = 25 + [23 = 48]

Chakra (Secondary)

Power: 1 + 17 = 18
Control: 1 - 1 + 17 = 17
Reserves: 1 + 1 + 16 = 18

Mental (Tertiary)

Intelligence: 1 - 1 - 1 + 13 = 12
Tactics: 1 - 1 - 1 + 12 = 11
Willpower: 1 + 15 = 16


Jutsus and Techniques:

Tenchu, Gun Clan Bloodline Limit
[F1] - Stage 1 (5 Stamina, 4 Strength, 4 Speed)
[F2] - Ma-Gun I
[F3] - Ma-Joutou
[F4] - Stage 2 (12 Stamina, 11 Strength, 10 Speed, 12 Power)
[F5] - Teidouku I
[F6] - Ma-Gun II

Chou Jin Genkotsu (The Decaying Fist)
[F7] - Stage One (Stamina 5, Strength 3)
[F8] - Stage Two (Stamina 8, Strength 6, Willpower 6)
[F9] - Stage Three (Stamina 12, Strength 8, Willpower 8)
[F10] - Special Technique: Masochism
[F11] - Stage Four (Stamina 21, Strength 18, Willpower 14, Speed 3)
[F12] - Special Technique: Mukuuken
[F13] - Stage Five (Stamina 25, Strength 25, Willpower 16, Speed 6)
[F14] - Special Technique: A Crown of Thorns
Accumulated Bonuses: 23 Stamina, 22 Strength

Kadou-Ken (Vortex Fist)
[TP] - Stage One (Speed 5, Stamina 3)
Accumulated Bonuses: 5 Speed, 4 Strength

Global Ninjutsu
[F15] - Kawarimi No Jutsu (Intelligence 3, Reserves 3)
[F16] - Kinobori no Jutsu (Power 6, Control 6, Intelligence 4)
[F17] - Suimen Hokou no Gyou (Power 10, Control 10, Willpower 8)
[F18] - Shunshin no Jutsu (Intelligence 12, Tactics 11, Willpower 10, Power 12)


- Standard Shinobi Kit [0]
- Hand and Shin Wraps (Limb Armor; 1) + Armor Spikes (Small Blade; 1) + Hidden (1) = [3]
- Bola (Restraints; 2) + Morph (1) + Returning (2) = [5]

Weapon Points Remaining: 0
Additional Weapon Points Gained: 0



It is a rather humorous thing to behold, the sight of Gun Hid’un at his desk.

His office is not particularly small, but the man himself particularly large and thus his presence dominates the room. The massive, bear of a man sits at an almost comically undersized desk with his broad shoulders hunched over his work, a grit expression on his face. One can barely make out the small pencil clutched unadroitly in his oafish fingers as he writes and reviews a seemingly endless stream of documents, performing work ergonomically intended for more delicate hands.

An irritated grunt or resentful sigh occasionally break the monotony of the pencil’s incessant scratching.

And this is how he sits now, toiling away at reports in a KISEO headquarters.

Hid’un glanced up at the clock – it was almost six. Fucking finally. Hid’un hated office work and today had been unusually slow. As he returned to the report he was working on, the tip of the pencil broke off with a snap. And at this, Hid’un snapped too; a squeeze from his hand pulverized the pencil into bits of lead and a cloud of sawdust. The lieutenant growled and raised his fist, intending to slam it upon the desk’s surface, but he promptly stopped himself: the desk was only a week old, having demolished his previous one during a similar fit of rage.

Fuck it.

The shinobi stood up, slipped on his gauntlets and collected his things. Sometimes he regretted applying to KISEO over the more action-oriented MOED, but this post had the advantage of keeping him close to his family and clansmen. And after everything that had happened in Kusagakure recently, he felt more secure being able to keep his hand on the pulse of the city.

He made his way through the chaotic office, navigating between boxes, filing cabinets and what might possibly be desks hidden under mounds of paper. A disapproving frown formed on his face. KISEO was a new department, a result of the recent shake-up in Kusagakure leadership, and Hid’un had known things would be disorganized when he requested the position. But now the disorder was trying his patience: it had been many months and the precinct still looked as though a small monsoon had blown through it.

He left the precinct without a word and headed out into the streets. Hid’un turned towards home and soon came upon the bridge that crossed over to the suburbs of the clan estates. The sinking sun sat low in the sky, bathing the village in a saccharine orange hue. Its aging light danced and frolicked upon the river’s shifting currents; an amber vein shone through the skin of a green forest.

As the Gun crossed the bridge onto the main street, the corner of his mouths withdrew, forming an expression some might describe as a smile. He was in familiar territory.

Hid’un was five. He had been playing in the street outside of the Gun estate when an older cousin snatched the ball Hid’un had been playing with.

“What the hell? Give it back, ya’ jerk!” exclaimed the aggravated little boy. In actuality, Hid’un was not all that upset: he liked brawling more than kicking a ball around and this theft had provided a perfect opportunity.

He flew at his cousin with all the rage his five-year-old frame could muster, but it was to no avail. The older boy was significantly larger and all Hid’un received for his efforts were multiple blows to his face; the fifth connected with his nose, producing a loud cracking sound.

But it had always taken more than a little pain and blood to discourage Hid’un – he was a Gun, after all. He picked himself up off the ground and continued his futile attempts.

This continued for a short while until a young girl with wild black hair came across the scene.

“The fuck is going on here?!” she demanded shrilly.

In a matter of seconds she was raining a flurry of heavy-handed fists down upon the older boy, who, after a few choice strikes to the face, swiftly retreated into the Gun estate, leaving the ball behind.

“Thanks, sis,” Hid’un chirped.

The older girl, whose name was Rin’in, looked down at Hid’un’s bleeding face. “Get your shit together. I can’t always be around to save your ass.” With a quick smile and a wink, she turned and walked away, leaving the bloody boy and his ball in the street.

That was the first time Gun Hid’un broke his nose.

Hid’un was in the kitchen, cooking. Hid’un hated cooking. But his wife, Sur’in, who was pregnant with their second child, had fallen asleep on the couch and he didn’t dare wake her. Sur’in was a firecracker as it was, but pregnancy hormones made her capable of all-out nuclear warfare – something Hid’un did not feel like dealing with after a long day filling out reports. A pot on the stove began to boil over.

“Son of a fucking bitch, fucking sh–“

His volley of curse words was cut short by the sound of the door and the entrance of his daughter, Ri’na.

“Daddy, I’m bleeding,” she stated matter-of-factly, holding up her crimson-smeared knuckles for Hid’un to inspect. They were slightly gashed, assumedly from punching something or more likely, someone.

“You been fighting ag’in?”

“Yep,” she replied unabashedly, “some boy was callin’ me names so I hit him.”

Hid’un did his best to mask his smile as he disinfected his daughter’s knuckles. He was glad for his daughter’s rambunctiousness – a dress-wearing, girly-girl of a daughter would have been a disappointment for the gruff Gun Jounin.

“Well, I hope you didn’t beat him up too badly,” he jested.

“His nose was real bloody,” replied a proud Ri’na.

Shit. I hope she didn’t break it. Dealing with upset parents was one of Hid’un’s least favorite activities. He finished attending to his daughter’s hands and stood up to his full height, towering over his tiny five-year-old daughter.

“You’re staying at grandpa’s this weekend,” he informed Ri’na, “so go pack your things, I’ll take you over there after dinner.”

“Ok!” She raced off to her room with fresh white bandages on her knuckles and her long black hair trailing behind her. She reminded him more of Rin’in every day.

“Hey, don’t be too long taking her over there,” sounded Sur’in’s voice from the living room, “I wanna get some before I go to bed tonight.”

In reality, grandpa’s house wasn’t much of distance from Hid’un’s, lying just on the opposite side of the Gun estate. Hid’un entered the house of his childhood ushering the ever-energetic Ri’na in front of him; his father got up off the couch to greet them. He looked down at Ri’na and smiled, noticing the fresh bandages on her hands.

“She’s more like Rin’in everyday, ain’t she?”

“Yep,” replied Hid’un trying to avoid conversation. As a shinobi, Rin’in had been involved in Grass’ recent conflicts with Bear country while Batsu had been in charge. She had gone missing and most presumed her to be dead. Hid’un didn’t want to think about her right now, but it’s hard not to remember in a place so filled with memories.

Hid’un was eight. He had just received the Shindou-Inpan, the seal that transformed his clan’s curse into a powerful weapon. And as tradition dictates, he needed to experience First Conflict which meant fighting with a close family member.

Unfortunately for Hid’un, he had played a rather nasty prank on his sister only a week before. In fact, Hid’un made regular habit of playing pranks on his sister and the good-natured Rin’in usually took it in stride, giving her younger brother only a light beating. But this time he had gone too far. Hid’un had mixed a bleach solution into Rin’in’s shampoo turning her hair a bright blonde. A blonde Gun is a funny thing indeed, and Rin’in was fuming.

Consequently, when Rin’in volunteered to be the one to fight Hid’un, no one objected. What resulted was one of the most brutal beatings of Hid’un’s life; he barely had the chance to throw a single punch. Afterward, Rin’in reverted to her cheerful self, but Hid’un was moody for the rest of the night: it was embarrassing to have your sister beat the shit out of you in front of everyone you knew.

That was the second time Gun Hid’un broke his nose.

On his way home, Hid’un lingered at the Gun Tencho Dojo.

Harvest-colored Field Country flags flapped gently against the crack-ridden walls, and the evening’s early stars peeked out from an ever-darkening horizon. Very few from outside the clan ever entered under these gates, but it always seemed to be bustling with activity as the Dojo was truly the nucleus of the Gun estate.

But tonight, surprisingly, there was no one around; just Hid’un and the twilight and his memories.

Hid’un was eleven. It was a winter evening and the entire Gun clan was gathered at a large bonfire near the Dojo in order to celebrate Burning Blades, a cultural tribute to Field Country and the clan’s history.

As he moved towards puberty, Hid’un began to take more and more notice of Gun girl named Sur’in. She was a few years younger than him, but Hid’un found himself inexplicably attracted to the strange pairing of her delicate features and devil-may-care attitude. However, nothing substantial had really developed between the two: the feelings were there and an inkling of a relationship had taken hold, but that was about it. Hid’un had also recently graduated the academy and become a Genin; he was feeling rather confident about his place in the world.

So it wasn't surprising that when another young Gun appeared to be making a move on Sur’in, Hi’dun beat him to a pulp right then and there. Sur’in, however, did not seem too pleased. Out of nowhere, she hit Hid’un square in the face.

“I can handle my own shit, thank you very much!”

She stomped off, leaving a confused Hid’un with a hand on his face, wondering why all the women in his life were so goddam violent.

That was the third time Gun Hid’un broke his nose.

Hid’un slid open the door of the Dojo and walked inside.

He took in a deep breath through the nose and let out a relaxed sigh. The Kusa-nin felt more at home here than just about anywhere else. He had spent the majority of his adolescent free time in this Dojo brawling with fellow Gun and receiving instruction from the more experienced clansmen, like his father.

Hid’un had always been one of the better fighters amongst his peers and for the most part, these walls held pleasant memories of victory. But, in his mind, another memory possessed greater prominence.

Hid’un was nineteen. He had recently been promoted to Chuunin along with the rest of his team. They had assisted in the capture of a dangerous missing-nin and were promoted for their success. It had been rather trying and Hid’un himself had taken the brunt of the missing-nin’s assaults, but this only served to further his ego.

It was a somewhat troubled time in Hid’un’s life. Success in his shinobi endeavors and a budding relationship with Sur’in had made him arrogant. It wasn’t long until he ran into trouble with the authorities of Kusagakure for unnecessarily provoking fights and causing heaps of collateral damage.

When Hid’un’s father received an official letter from the authorities concerning the matter, he was furious. He immediately grabbed the unruly Chuunin and dragged him to the Dojo. Hid’un did not bother to protest, he knew what was coming.

Once inside the Dojo, Hid’un’s father did not waste any time. Despite his youth and robust body, Hid’un proved no match for his father’s fifty-plus years of experience and was beaten almost to the point of Uetosshin.

“You’re not a god, son; you’re a man. And it’s about damn time you start acting like one.”

That was the fourth time Gun Hid’un broke his nose.

Hid’un couldn’t sleep. He glanced over at his wife. Sur’in, now satisfied, was curled up next to him lightly snoring. He smiled.

They had married when he was twenty-three; Ri’na was born two years later. Around the same time Hid’un had been promoted to Jounin due to his continued excellence in service. Having run with a rough crowd in his teenage years, Hid’dun had developed a nose for sniffing out local crime; he garnered a notable reputation for shutting down prominent drug and smuggling rings in and around Kusagakure. This eventually led to his promotion.

And now, following Fukumen’s rise to power, he held a comfortable, albeit boring, position as a KISEO Lieutenant. But, the recent coups had left Hid’un slightly troubled – he realized that a certain degree of stability in Grass was necessary to ensure a prosperous future for his clan and family.

Staring at the ceiling, it was these types of thoughts and worries which now plagued the shinobi’s sleepless mind. Hid’un gave his head a light shake as if to scatter the thoughts from his consciousness.

Fuck, I’ll think about this shit later.

He turned over and closed his eyes.

Writing Example: Not required

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03/22/11 Engiversary 7.0 Thread Point: Stage 1 Kadou-Ken (Vortex Fist)

04/16/11: Uncanny Smell

Last edited by Based Kiba; 08-23-2017 at 04:29 AM.. Reason: edited in line for Kadou-Ken
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Old 02-15-2011, 06:33 PM   #2
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Alright, I believe this to be finished. If somebody could kindly move it to Clan Character Registration, that'd be great.
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Old 02-28-2011, 05:11 PM   #3
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Bumping this one for the sake of showing a continued interest.

Last edited by Break; 03-01-2011 at 10:04 AM..
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Old 03-06-2011, 08:23 PM   #4
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“I wanna to get some before I go to bed tonight.”
Sorta like a faked italian accent ova here.

Ri’na in from of him
In from of where?

All this bumping, all this bumping, kids and their bumping.

Everything here seems legit, make the small writing changes I recommended and I will give you the approvals it deserves.
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Old 03-07-2011, 02:18 PM   #5
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Thanks for catching those merdle. Edits have been made.
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Old 03-10-2011, 12:48 AM   #6
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If you split up the appearance description (Clothing and appearance), then this Approval is yours.
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Old 03-10-2011, 09:25 AM   #7
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Done as requested, good sir.
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Old 03-10-2011, 04:40 PM   #8
So fragile yet so devious
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Dunno why I didn't see this before :x Oops

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Old 03-15-2011, 07:35 AM   #9
35th highest post count? NOO
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half approving my gun.

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Old 03-21-2011, 12:52 PM   #10
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I'll throw my Half Approval on this Gun. :P

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