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Old 07-09-2010, 01:15 AM   #1
kyzuko
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Default Yotarou Ouji, SUNA Chuunin



Name: Yotarou Ouji
Age: 19
Sex: M
Height: 5’10”

Character Type: Shinobi

Country/Village: Hidden Sand Village / Wind Country
Rank: Chuunin
Division: SUNA - Soldier

Physical Description:



Ouji stands just about average in height and his body isn’t one of bulk. Athletic in build, it is obvious that he doesn’t make his living standing around trading shots with behemoths. Everything about the chuunin says speed, from his long legs to the lean muscle clinging to them to the sun-darkened olive tone to his skin to his shaved head. Ouji looks fast. No, that doesn’t quite do it. Ouji looks…shifty. The distinction is owed perhaps to the slightly crooked nature of his smile or how he seems to cock his head just so, position his slim frame in a way that makes him look like he is going to change any second, leave whoever is looking holding the bag or, worse, bleeding in an alleyway. His hair is black, though that is all that is able to really be noted about it: Ouji never lets it grow out long enough for it to display any characteristics, shaving it down with a razor before it ever pushes past the quarter-inch mark. There is not much else all that remarkable about his appearance aside from, perhaps, the seven -pointed stars tattooed on the back of each hand and on the cap of each shoulder.

Clothing:

Functionality and comfort are two important things that must be kept in mind and balanced when it comes to operating in the harsh and unforgiving Wind Country. And Ouji, well, he sticks to that principle pretty well; definitely more than some of his peers, that’s for sure. To this note, his pants are a utilitarian pair of cargo pants made of a durable but breathable material in a sandy color, allowing for it to be both cooler in the intense heat of the sun and blend in with any Sand shinobi’s most common surrounding in the field. These are fairly standard issue, as is the desert brown flak jacket, possessing the high, sturdy collar, though lacking the usual button-down shoulder covers, leaving the straps that connect the front and back panels at the top bare, exposing the sleeveless black shirt used to create a barrier between the protective and utilitarian jacket and his skin. Favoring a slightly more sturdy footwear than many shinobi, Ouji combined the more airy nature of the traditional shinobi sandal with the general sturdiness of a boot, resulting in a sandy-colored boot with sections made of a durable mesh, allowing air flow, but granting more protection for his digits, especially when it comes to kicking. Finally, there is the all-too-common gourd on his back, a staple of many Hidden Sand shinobi. His standard-issue headband is usually worn tied around his right bicep, the plate bearing Hidden Sand’s emblem facing outward.

There are non-standard aspects of his attire, however. He wears two bracelets on his left wrist, one consisting of a strand of black prayer beads with a talisman for good luck attached to it, and the other being a band made of thickly braided cords of red silk with a fine piece of jade worked into it given to him by his grandparents when he was promoted to chuunin, as was the tradition among all the Yotarou who became shinobi, a sort of family talisman. Beyond that, embroidered on his flak vest, right above his heart and just clear of the pouches, is another of the seven-pointed stars, his common motif.

Personality:

It would be hard to reconcile the Yotarou Ouji that you’d run into nowadays with the one from just a year ago if it weren’t for that damnable mouth of his—both the crooked smile usually plastered on it and the wicked tongue inside. The chuunin has done a lot of growing up over the past year. A year ago, it seemed Ouji was doomed to be another case of promising young talent with a bad attitude and, worse, doomed to an early death due to his recklessness. Quick-witted, he has always had trouble keeping his mouth shut, having a history of writing checks his ass couldn’t cash. Or his arm. Or his nose. You get the picture. Now that he is finally showing some maturity, well, that tongue is just as sharp, but he is starting to get a leash on it, and honestly, any restraint is a huge improvement over what it used to be. You see, Ouji had a big problem with authority. That is probably the biggest thing that would have held him back professionally beyond a premature death due to his big mouth. And while he still holds contempt for those who abuse their authority, he has comes leaps and bounds towards being a good soldier in that response and just shutting up and following orders. Will he always be happy about it? No, not likely. Does he prefer autonomy? Abso-freakin-lutely. But reality is what it is. Those are the big changes.

What hasn’t changed? Well, he’s still a competitive little brat, willing to turn anything into a challenge if he is bored and practically unable to walk away from a challenge issued. Also unchanged? His sense of right and wrong and that’s a good thing. Despite all his problems, Ouji can’t stomach the villain prevailing and he is willing to go to great lengths to prevent that from happening, often times erring into the field of recklessness. But anybody he has helped would gladly keep his recklessness over a more reserved and cautious manner if it meant them being alive or not.

Nindo: “Sometimes you got to grow up and get into reality. There are bad people out there and I’m not just going to stand around and let them do whatever they want because of some childish ideas of mine.”

Clan/Bloodline: N/A
Combo Archetype: Enforcer
Special: Once per thread when the Enforcer physically grabs someone, the target's body is instantly paralyzed (though can still speak/breathe/shift eyes) so long as the Enforcer keeps his hold for a maximum of three posts. The Enforcer (including clones)cannot carry out any offensive actions while this special is active. If an ally of the Enforcer were to attack, the adrenaline boost of the victim would be great enough to allow him to instantly break the hold.
Primary Archetype: Cavalier (+2 SPD, +1 PWR; -2 INT, -1 RES)
Secondary Archetype: Quicksilver (+2 SPD, +1 STA; -1 CON, POW, STR)

Statistics

Physical (Primary [30])

Strength: 1 – 1 + 11 = 11 (+12 Kadou-Ken)
Speed: 1 + 4 + 10 + 2(TP) = 17 (+15 PQQ)
Stamina: 1 + 1 + 9 = 11 (+4 PQQ)

Chakra (Secondary [27] + 4 AP)

Power: 1 – 1 + 1 + 9 + 1 = 11
Control: 1 – 1 + 9 + 1 + 4(TP) = 14
Reserves: 1 – 1 + 9 + 2 = 11

Mental (Tertiary [24] + 4 AP)

Intelligence: 1 – 2 + 8 +2 = 9
Tactics: 1 + 8 + 1 = 10
Willpower: 1 + 8 + 1 = 10



Jutsus and Techniques (12 + 3 AP)

Pi Qua Quan
-Stage 3 (+15 Speed, +8 Strength, +4 Stamina) [3 Jutsu]
Requirements: Speed 12, Strength 8, Control 8

Kadou-Ken
-Stage 3 (+15 Speed, +12 Strength) [3 Jutsu]
Requirements: Speed 12, Stamina 8, Control 8
Special techniques:
- Kuuhaku Douryou Atemi [Null Momentum Strike] [1 Jutsu]
- Shunkoku Kyoten Teiryuu [Instant Point Stop]

Futouomeisei Gai Nai No
Stage One
-Maboroshi no Mai (Dance of Illusion) [Req: ower 3, Willpower 2]
Stage Two
-Doujutsu: Senrigan (Eye Technique: All-Seeing Eye) [Req: Intelligence 5, Tactics 4, Willpower 4]
-Ensou (Gathering Point) [Req: Power 6, Control 6, Intelligence 4]

Universal Ninjutsu
Stage One
-Kawarimi No Jutsu (Body Switch Technique) [Req: Intelligence 3, Reserves 3 ]
-Henge No Jutsu (Transformation Technique) [Req: Control 3, Intelligence 2]
Stage Two
-Kinobori no Jutsu (Tree Walking Technique)/Kabenobori no Jutsu (Wall Walking Technique) [Req: Power 6, Control 6, Intelligence 4]

Sand Genjutsu
Stage One
-Akuka (Bad Money) [Req: 2 Willpower, 2 Power]
Stage Two
-Kaze no Totsunyuu (Rushing Winds) [Req: 6 Willpower, 6 Intelligence, 4 Reserves]
Stage Three
-Mougo Shibaku no Jutsu (False Strike Technique) [Req: 8 Willpower, 8 Intelligence, 6 Tactics]

Inventory
-Balisong x2 [(3)6]
-Shuriken [2]
-Strings [1]
-Comm Unit [1]
-Explosive Tags [4]
-Sensitive Contacts [2]

Weapon Points Remaining: 4
Additional Weapon Points Gained: 0

Biography:

The Yotarou have always been competent shinobi of Sand, loyal and obedient. The unofficial family motto had been “Do things right or don’t do them at all.” And, well, it had served them well throughout the decades of service. They had filled numerous roles within the shinobi corps, everything from plain old assassin to police to medical care and research. They weren’t spectacular. They weren’t the shooting stars. If someone wrote a novel or made a film, a Yotarou wouldn’t be the hero. He’d be a supporting character at best, if not just a part of the ambience, a moving portion of the background.

They weren’t the superstars or the heroes. They weren’t the villains, either. They were just shinobi who followed orders, kept their mouths shut, and got by.

That was, until the day Ouji was born. Things were off to begin with. Such bad omens were present on that day. Ouji’s grandparents were sure that the child would be a stillbirth and feared that their son, Makoto, would bury his wife along with her. What were the omens? Do you really want the laundry list? The Yotarou are not only known for being strictly by-the-books, but also for being extremely superstitious. So when Mizuko not only gave birth to a perfectly healthy little boy, but survived the event herself and, well, with relative ease to be quite honest, Grandfather Yamaro stated that this boy’s triumph over the best efforts of the spirits crowns him with the victory of life. And so, he was named Ouji, for he had earned his place and crown. Or so his relatives had decided.

In the years that would come, Ouji would test that place and crown he had ‘earned’. He was a brat before he could walk. Mobility just made him a brat that could evade discipline. Makoto did not understand how his first-born—and, as the four daughters that followed him would prove, his only—son could be such a departure from the norm for a Yotarou. He and his brothers were most definitely not such terrors. His parents disagreed, but they merely smiled and encouraged their son to keep at it. ‘He’ll come around,’ they said. After all, they knew better. Even though Makoto wouldn’t admit it—as none of his brothers would, either—they had all been terrors for quite awhile. It took some time for them to finally straighten up, to grow up into the fine young men that they were.

As soon as they would accept him, the Academy gladly took young Ouji in for teaching. After all, it was tradition. Besides, more than one person involved in the teaching in the Shinobi Academy of Hidden Sand was related to the Yotarou family. It was only expected. And, almost as soon as they admitted him, they regretted it. Ouji had not yet grown out of his brat stage. And putting him around a bunch of other brats? Oh dear lord, this could only end badly. And it did. Several times. Ouji was a discipline case. The number of times he’d picked fights…especially compared to how often he lost those fights (give the kid a break—he kept picking fights with the bigger kids)…everyone lost count. All that mattered was that he had gotten pegged as a definite troublemaker.

Nonetheless, the Academy instructors saw potential in Ouji. Namely, in that he was fast. And tricky. He wasn’t some tactical genius, no, but what he was was fast and cunning enough to know to take advantage of that and anything else he could take advantage of to improve his chances in any given situation. Given the right tutelage—and a lot of discipline—he could become quite the shinobi.

And so, upon graduation, they set Ouji up with discipline, all right. Hasura Kebori was a battle-hardened jounin of more than some merit. He was just this side of legendary with one of the more prolific service records among active Hidden Sand Shinobi. Of course, that comes with being active so long. At 50 years old, Kebori was looking to slow things down some from his usual high-octane work and when he was given a special request from his old friend and regular shogi partner, Yotarou Yamaro, to help shape his grandson, he ignored all the talk about omens—he long ago got past the point of being amused by the superstitious coot’s beliefs—and listened to the real facts. He promised Yamaro that he’d do his best to whip his grandson into shape and turn him into a fine shinobi.

Ouji’s teammates were not to his liking. He had heard that many genin teams were arranged so that you’d be with friends, or at least people you could get along with. Apparently, he heard wrong. His teammates were two people he’d spent most of his time in the Academy picking fights with: Okusoji Saju, a ‘suck up with more muscle than brains’, and Gokaze Tijiro, a ‘quiet, tricky little smarty-pants’. Honestly, he didn’t know how it could get any worse.

And then, they were introduced to their sensei. Ouji had not hoped to have some old geezer as his sensei. His buddy Junosuke had some smoking hot babe for a sensei and his cousin got some cool ass wind specialist. ‘Why did I get stuck with the geez?’ That wasn’t just a thought, either. That was what Ouji said the first time he met his sensei. And he said it very loudly. How did the ‘geez’ respond?

”You must be Yamaro’s boy. Good. Then I won’t feel bad doing this.”

Before any of the kids knew what was going on, Ouji was flying off to the side, blood filling his mouth and, from the feel of things, from his nose. He had no idea what had happened or how he had gotten into his airborne state, but as he felt himself fall into a set of arms, he turned to look and things became way too clear. The old geez had just moved faster than…well, than anything. He placed a cloth to the boy’s mouth and nose and told him to spit out the blood and hold the cloth down tight until the blood stopped. The boy did as he was told and Kebori let him down all the way, speaking as he did. He said that he will not tolerate disobedience and he will be harsh with punishing it. He did not let it rest on that sour note, however, continuing by stating as fact that, if they listen to him and learn to be obedient, he will make them into great shinobi. He told them of his experiences as a shinobi for the rest of the day, demonstrating his qualifications through fact. The genin began to realize that so many of the stories they had heard over the years involved this old son of a gun. Saju and Tijiro found a respectable teacher. Ouji? Ouji found a hero.

He held them back from the chuunin exams for a year with the promise that, once they were entered, they would succeed without a problem. This was hard to swallow for some—especially Ouji who had an inflated sense of his abilities that Kebori was more than glad to put in check. Repeatedly. And with extreme prejudice. And, no, it didn’t always result in violence. Sometimes there were pushups involved, other times digging holes just to fill them up later.

Eventually, discipline did come to Ouji. Or, at least, it was there whenever Kebori-sensei was within earshot. See, Ouji didn’t so much start growing up as he just started growing craftier and craftier. He became very good at putting up an acceptable version of himself when his sensei was in range for the swift beatings to rain down upon him, but his mouth was as loose as ever, his head as hot as ever. He was just…smarter about it so as to avoid most of the smacks to the mouth and extra hours of creative workouts.

Kebori did more than give Ouji some sort of discipline, though. He molded the three boys he was put in charge of into the best he could with their natural talents and predispositions. For Saju, tough as nails and strong as hell, the veteran jounin guided him towards using that body to break any opponents he met in combat, not just outlasting, but getting him to think and strategize so that he didn’t have to outlast them—even though he would. After all, shinobi aren’t usually a prolonged combat force. They are meant for getting in and breaking up the joint and getting out. He made sure that Saju would be very good at breaking up a wide variety of joints. As for Tijiro, this kid was an out and out strategist. He watched and planned for everything. Kebori was impressed with his tactical intelligence and found as many ways as possible to nurture it so that the genin would practically have prescience when running into any situation, any foe, as to what would happen next and what he had to do to make sure he came out on top. It would take years of study for it to become perfect, but for his age, the little brat was pretty damn good, boasting quite the varied toolbox of genjutsu and ninjutsu to make him extremely adaptable and effective.

As for Ouji, he had two real things going for him: cunning and speed. Kebori-sensei saw any number of directions he could develop that at base, but after really watching the boy in spars with his teammates and his actions and the slick ass grin that came across his face, it struck him. ”Ouji, my boy, do you know what you remind me of? You remind me of the wind. Swift, yet gentle. But the wind is also tricky. It is untrustworthy, for it is always shifting. It is kind and gentle on moment, cooling the sweat from your skin, and the next, it is raging and destructive, uprooting buildings and destroying whatever stands against it. So, that is how you will be.”

Kebori himself was a well-versed student of Pi Qua Quan—among other styles—and took to teaching the boy that as his primary go to in combat, reinforcing the graceful and precise movements to bring in more discipline. It was very much a style that fell back on forms and stances. It was frustrating at first for the genin because, well, everyone else’s seemed so much more interesting. ‘Punch this post until you can’t feel your hands anymore.’ ‘Make these seals and focus on this.’ Not ‘put this foot here and this foot there and place your hands like this. Good, now, repeat.’ But he stuck with it and the brat started to get it. By the end of the first six months under Kebori’s tutelage—with a good handful of missions under his belt, each always seeming to drive home another of his hero’s lessons into practicality—Ouji was coming along quite well.

And that was when Kebori shifted the training into high gear. Though he had told his pupils he didn’t intend to put them forward into the Chuunin Exams until he had been teaching them for two years, he had lied. He was going to put them into the mix in six more months. And they were going to be successful. And that meant that he himself had to step up his game. His boys were getting there, but there was both far off and approaching faster than they’d know.

And so, Kebori-sensei flipped the script. Days off? There was no such thing. He drilled them harder, took them on more missions, and twisted their lessons. Tijiro’s watchful and strategic mind was plied to a peculiar fighting style that centered on the very prescience that his teacher was trying to instill in him. It required him to draw on every tool in his toolbox and to be watchful, to always be watchful. Saju was challenged to not only be strong and tough, but to become tricky. He did not have much speed, but what he did have was a fledgling and until then ignored talent for genjutsu. And so, this talent was drawn out. ”Deceive your foe, lure them in, and then destroy them. Utterly and completely.”

As for Ouji, Kebori needed to finish his transformation into the embodiment of wind as he saw it. He could be swift and graceful as the breeze while being deceptively damaging, but in order to fully finish his style, he needed to embrace another part: the Tempest. And so came Kadou-Ken, the vortex style. It was very much like being a tornado or hurricane, drawing your foe in and breaking them, neutralizing them in a number of ways in that close-quarters style. Trick them from a mid-range. Draw them cose, to the eye of the storm. And then? Neutralize.

Of course, there were other lessons as well. Teamwork and camaraderie among a group that often spent most of its times in scuffles behind their instructor’s back didn’t come easy, but with punishments for the deeds of one being meted out equally to all three, they soon came to respect each other. Trust came from working in the field, when dangerous missions that seemed beyond their skill levels pushed them to rely on each other. Classic stuff that was tried and true for team-building. And it worked. God damn, did it ever work. They went from, at best, ignoring each other and, at worst, trying to kill each other to, well, something resembling brothers. Were there still spats? Oh, definitely. More than once, there were downright vicious fights, but at the end of the day, they knew that the other two of them would go to bat for them no matter what. And that they would do the same.

Of course, when they found out about their sensei’s plan, there were mixed feelings. After all, how would you react to finding out that you were about to go into the ultimate testing of your capabilities starting the next day? Kebori-sensei gave his students as little notice as possible, and he did it on purpose. He wanted to up the ante all that much more, making them feel as if they were suddenly at the point of giving it all or nothing because, well, that’s what it was, after all. They were excited. They were anxious. And they were a little scared that they weren’t ready. They asked Kebori-sensei if he was sure they were ready.

”I have never been surer in my life.”

And with a roguish smile of his own, that marked the beginning of the team’s one and only experience with the Chuunin Exams. The details are standard enough to any chuunin exam. There were multiple parts, each pressing the participants to demonstrate key abilities expected of shinobi regardless of specialization, such as cunning, strategy, and teamwork. Ultimately, as is traditional, the final exam was in the form of a tournament. That one came down to a double elimination (in that they were both incapacitated by the other) between Ouji and Tijiro, Tijiro barely defeating Saju the round before. They impressed the crowd of on-lookers so much that a very rare thing happened, in that all three of them were promoted to chuunin. This is something that happened very rarely and, given the rarity, an increase in business for Hidden Sand followed, those who tend to hire out shinobi generally impressed by Sunagakure’s showing. Hell, impressed didn’t really begin to explain it. To be quite honest, the viewing public was blown away. Historians would remind that this can happen, just rarely, especially with them all being first year genin and being all from the same team. But that didn’t stop the shinobi-contracting public from being amazed and swayed towards Sand when making their next offer.

The genin themselves were overjoyed with the news. It was beyond what they expected, that’s for sure. And they had Kebori-sensei to thank for it. He had pushed them and molded them to be lean, mean, shinobi machines. That night, they celebrated with their sensei and their families.

And the next morning, they stopped the celebration and set themselves to the rest of their lives. They were still kept pretty tightly assigned due to their overall cohesiveness as a team. It impressed people. Plus, they were often enough requested due to the impression they made during the Chuunin Exams, so it just seemed to work out that way. Things were going swell for the rookie chuunin.

Perhaps too swell. Out from underneath the humbling eye of Kebori-sensei, the three of them began to let their prominence go to their head. For Saju andTijiro, this really just amounted to getting mighty full of themselves. For Ouji, however, this meant that that devilish tongue of his came back to reign. A sense of entitlement and too much bombast for his own good combined for him to normally talk himself into situations he couldn’t really hang in, though his teammates always stood by him, no matter how bad. They’d either all be standing or all be beat down. They were like brothers, even if one of their brothers didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

And for two years, that was the status quo. Ouji’d right the step and they’d either all pay up or the check would bounce them to the ground, all the while their mission log slowly taking a downturn as they became old news with big mouths in comparison to the next rising stars of Sunagakure’s Shinobi Corps, let alone the shinobi of the other hidden villages. The demand for them as a team had been waning, though the experiences they had gained through all their high profile work could not be dismissed. Their skills had matured, even if, in Ouji’s case in particular, their attitudes had not. Saju was a beast, plain and simple, breaking minds and bones with similar ease. Tijiro boasted a catalog of techniques that made him invaluable as a role-player in any situation. And Ouji? His speed was even more impressive, both physically and mentally. The speed of his tongue was no match for that of his hands and feet, and that deviously cunning mind had stepped up its game, particularly when it came to upping the lethality of his fighting styles, incorporating a pair of balisong knives his father gave him upon his promotion into the graceful, swift movements of Pi Qua Quan in particular.

But with the hype no longer bringing much attention, the trio’s superiors decided it was time to separate them. They figured that the fifteen year olds, though showing an admirable devotion to each other, needed to be challenged separately to become fully actualized shinobi and be at their most valuable state as field assets. Saju and Tijiro each had their weaknesses and Ouji? Well, that one was obvious. They needed to curb his attitude. And without his brothers-in-arms around to stand with him at every occasion, maybe that would finally happen. Or so Kebori-sensei believed. After all, he was the prime supporter of separating his three star pupils, actively advocating it for the past year. As much as Ouji thought he was sneaking his bad attitude and behavior problems past his hero’s awareness, the jounin was too salty for Ouji to sneak much of anything past him. And so, it would be back to the days of firm ass-kicking for Ouji and that mouth of his. That was the only way to fix it—and that was exactly how Kebori put it forward to the powers-that-be.

And so, that was what happened. The first mission that Ouji was assigned on by himself was completed, but he came back with one broken jaw and three broken ribs. And they had been handed down to him by the jounin leading that team. And that would be something of a recurring instance for the next three years, though it got a little less common as the years dragged on. But that’s not to say his mouth got that much tamer, though it did, just not nearly as much as people would like. It was more that he got better at being able to back up what he said.

As time went, his attitude soured towards authority, though not so much as to take real action on it. Ouji’s anti-authority tendencies amounted more to talking back and not taking people as seriously as he should have. This attitude was pretty quickly putting him on the shelf as far as his career went. Despite such high hopes and such talent, Ouji was now earning the label of ‘disappointment’ and doing a damn fine job at it.

The same could not be said for his ‘brothers’. Saju and Tijiro had both done quite well for themselves, rising to prominence on their own such that the flag on their files that prevented their working together had been removed, though they still worked separately with a variety of other shinobi quite well, melding their strong teamwork into whatever grouping they were assorted into just as well as if they were with Ouji. They tried to talk to their spiraling friend, to persuade him to stop screwing around and get on board with the leadership so that maybe they could work together again someday. But faking it until he could make it wasn’t an option for the Yotarou. He didn’t want to become just another shinobi. That is all Yotarou’s had ever been: standard-issue, placeholder shinobi. He wanted to be something spectacular and he wanted to do it on his terms.

So it was, on his eighteenth birthday, that Ouji was invited to a sit-down with his hero, Kebori-sensei. Kebori-sensei was, after all, the source of his maverick hero obsession. After hearing the stories of his teacher’s youth and rise to prominence after their first meeting, it engendered within him a desire to follow in Kebori’s footsteps. Ouji accepted, of course, eager to speak with his former teacher. And so it was that the two found themselves in a tea shop in the back alleys of Sunagakure. It was a favorite of Kebori’s and his genin had come here before. And over the years, there had been occasional meetings between all of them, though they had diminished in recent years.

The jounin instructed his student to sit down and Ouji quickly obeyed. There was some small talk to make the atmosphere casual before Kebori got down to brass tacks. He told his student that he knew all about everything and that he always had. He let him know that whenever the chuunin thought he was slipping something past his teacher, he knew. The chuunin rolled his eyes and went to stand up, but his mentor told him to sit down.

And Ouji obeyed.

Kebori opened up about a lot more of the truth of his rise to prominence. About the atmosphere of hidden Sand at the time. About how lucky he was to have gotten away with some of his more outlandish behavior. He said that if he had colored inside the lines a bit more, he could have avoided a lot of heartache and a lot of pain over the years. He told Ouji about his ex-wife who hadn’t spoken to him for fifteen years. He told him about his son who hadn’t spoken to him in longer. He told him about all the things his recklessness had cost him.

And finally, he rested, his features suddenly seeming that much more world-weary than they had before to the chuunin. Ouji took it in as they spent the next several minutes in mutual silence. When he finally spoke, Ouji bore his own issues. He opened up with his concerns in full honesty, more than he had ever even had with himself. He told his mentor of his fear of ending up as just another Yotarou, like every Yotarou before him. He conceded that they had been good enough, but he didn’t want to be just good enough. He wanted to be great. He knew he had the talent and he had the mind. But he didn’t want to go along just to get along. He wanted to make his own way. To blaze his own path, so that one day, some young kid would want to follow in the footsteps of THE Yotarou Ouji. He wanted to leave a legacy that was worth aspiring to and worthy of note to future generations.

They talked and talked, speaking for hours about various issues before elevating it back to lighter topics. Finally, they each paid their tabs and rose to leave. Ouji thanked his sensei for the talk and Kebori thanked him for listening. They shook hands as men and left, each walking their own way out of the alley with plans to do this as a regular thing starting the next Monday.

The next day, the Kazekage was dead. It struck everyone differently, but even the stauncher anti-authority folks, such as Ouji, were struck with a measure of grief over it. It brought about uncertain times, and that worried many. There were so many questions about how it had happened, who was responsible, and who would step up to fill the role. In time, responsibility was attributed to the Suna no Soushouku and, after a vote, Arisugawa Nayoko’s son, Enzan, stepped into his mother’s position of Kazekage. Ouji was one of the majority who voted him in, hoping that his ideas for change would come to fruition.

And the changes came. The Shinobi Corps of Sand was divided into three new branches, with new assignments either offered or assigned, depending on performance record and rank and who knows what else. They shuffled Ouji into SUNA, the main military division of Hidden Sand, which suited him just fine. Saju and Tijiro were SUNA as well and they all hoped that maybe they would be working together again after all these years.

That hope lasted about as long as they were divided up into either ‘recruits’ or ‘soldiers’ and given squad assignments. Saju and Tijiro? Ranked as ‘Soldiers’ and put together. Ouji? Ranked as ‘Recruit’ and stuck with mostly genin and a few other young chuunin and a jounin in charge of them. Slap in the face? Ouji thought so. He felt completely humiliated. He felt like telling everyone in earshot what a crock this all was.

But he didn’t. He kept his mouth shut. Who cared that he was the oldest shinobi in this particular flight of recruits by three years? Who cared that he was actually ranked right alongside genin? Well, Ouji did. But he grit his teeth and stood at attention. He’d earn his stripes.

And earn them he did. Assignments, whether voluntary or more directly assigned came and went, and Ouji did his best to keep his head down and do work. It impressed people to see the hotheaded Yotarou suddenly become a compliant role-player, even if he didn’t like the roles he was always being stuck with. He played them and he played them damn well.

After the dust had settled and not only the threat from the priests had been quelled, but also the existence of a rogue black ops organization named Sasori Ryodan—the party truly responsible for Nayoko-sama’s assassination—had been utterly ended, things were able to shift to a more stable model, meaning chances for advancement. Ouji was given his chance and, along with a handful of other recruits from his flight, faced the trials slated out for graduation to soldier from recruit.

Ouji performed well enough in the tests to be promoted to a full-on soldier instead of a recruit which did loads to help his overall state of mind. He had proven himself and he had earned his place. He may not be back with his ‘brothers’, but at least he could look keep looking his hero in the eyes at their weekly tea and talk.

Things were looking up. They weren’t perfect, of course. Ouji still smarted off more than he should and he still wasn’t taken as seriously as he should have been, but they were much better than they had been. He was even starting to get friends aside from Saju and Tijiro, which was stunning. He had always ended up pushing his peers away due to his behavior, but now that he was curbing it some, Ouji was deemed bearable and, to some, entertaining.

When things went pear-shaped and the worst of the worst that Sand had taken down over the years came out to play, Ouji was playing a game of Spades with a couple of these new-fangled peers of his that didn’t despise him. He was working on going nil when the alert went out over their comm. units. Numerous dangerous persons loose in streets. The order was to secure and neutralize. The four put their cards down and sped off in different directions, each with their own object to ‘secure’ in mind.

At first, the threat wasn’t obvious. But eventually, the reports started coming in over the comm units. Countless injuries and far too many casualties. Ouji had one destination in mind as he rushed to his family’s neighborhood. That’s when he started coming across bodies. Children. Women. Whoever had done this had no regard for the victims. They were just killing indiscriminately. He had stopped at the bodies, shifting gears, so to speak. He felt his muscles drawing tighter as his heart started beating faster. Adrenaline had started to rush through his body and he was fighting that whole fight-or-flight thing as he tried to simultaneously use the sharpening of his senses to his advantage. And then someone came out of the house carrying a bloody butcher’s knife and the body of a small child by the throat. Ouji’s reaction was too fast for the murderer to react much further than turning his head in time to see the chuunin drive his fingers deep into his windpipe, quickly following up by seizing the knife as the convict dropped it and driving it into his heart. He wrenched the dying man’s hands off the child’s throat and was relieved to find her still alive, even if just barely. He knew he couldn’t risk leaving her here, but he had to get home. He needed to make sure his family was safe. So he slung her over his shoulder and sprinted home, passing more bodies and burning buildings. It killed him to go past, but he had to get somewhere safe and he had to get the girl to safety. Then…then he could go back and do his part.

The Yotarou’s were one of the lucky families on that day. They didn’t lose anybody. On the contrary, they did as many good Sand ninja did that day: they saved their village. But, despite the best efforts of the village, the damage was done. Bodies littered the streets and many of the most dangerous criminals escaped. The Kazekage was hospitalized. The world had gotten a lot more dangerous and uncertain all of a sudden.

But to Ouji, it was a call to duty. He suddenly decided it was time to grow the hell up and do his part. He kicked himself for all those years he squandered his talent, his gifts, and swore that he would not make that same mistake again. It was time to stop trying to figure out how to become great, and start being great.


Other Info:

-Seven-pointed Star: a traditional symbol for warding off evil; often used in law enforcement badges for this evil-warding symbolism.

Thread Log
[12/19/10] Inside Information [Best Served Cold]: 2 GMAP: +2 Control
[04/17/14] White Noise: Shunkoku Kyoten Teiryuu [Instant Point Stop], +1 Control
[01/17/14 A Watched Pot Talks Too Much: Henge no Jutsu, +2 Speed. 1 GMAP: +1 Control
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||Co-GM, Shoda Bloodline Clan of Cloud||
\\Shoda Hoshihana, Cloud Jounin//
//Arechihana Sasori, Spartoi\\
||Yotarou Ouji, SUNA chuunin||Koike Kano, ANBU||
||Hasami Kuma, the Iron Devil of Sound||Tsubasa Kinoshita, Rain Jounin||
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Last edited by Will of Fire; 04-17-2014 at 09:07 PM..
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Old 07-09-2010, 03:00 AM   #2
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If I'm doing my math right, your Power should be at 11, not ten. As should your Control, but I think part of the issue is that there's a +1 at the beginning of Control that I don't think is attached to any of your Archetypes. Your Reserves should also equal eleven. And your Intelligence should be nine.

Only characters who were part of the Raid on the Priest's hideout themselves can call themselves members of that particular group. It's like a status thing, earned through roleplay. Which I should probably put down somewhere so people don't go putting that in their biographies. My fault, not yours.

Other than that, though, this character is perfect. I like what you did, and actually get a sense of his flaws and how he overcame them in the end. All and all . . . good job. After that's fixed I'll slap my Approval on this guy.
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Old 07-09-2010, 09:35 AM   #3
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Stats fixed per your notes. Fixed.

Didn't know about that raid thing. Fixed.
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\\Shoda Hoshihana, Cloud Jounin//
//Arechihana Sasori, Spartoi\\
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Old 07-09-2010, 03:18 PM   #4
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And Sand GM Approved.
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Last edited by Kaen; 07-09-2010 at 05:47 PM..
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Old 07-09-2010, 04:38 PM   #5
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Looks good sir...glad to have you back. Half Approved
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Old 07-09-2010, 04:47 PM   #6
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Welcome back <3

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Old 07-09-2010, 06:17 PM   #7
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Edited in cost for Balisong so that that is all completed.
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||Co-GM, Shoda Bloodline Clan of Cloud||
\\Shoda Hoshihana, Cloud Jounin//
//Arechihana Sasori, Spartoi\\
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Old 07-09-2010, 08:46 PM   #8
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Quote:
Strength: 1 – 1 + 11 = 11 (+15 PQQ)
Speed: 1 + 4 + 10 = 15 (+12 Kadou-Ken)
You have +15 speed available as bonuses from both of your tai styles. There's a +12 bonus to strength from Kadou-ken, so I imagine that you've just got your bonuses switched around there.

My life would be so much easier if requirements were listed.
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Old 07-09-2010, 09:19 PM   #9
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Bonus confusion should be unconfused now.

Requirements presented in italics.
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||GM, Arechihana Bloodline Clan of Sand||
||Co-GM, Shoda Bloodline Clan of Cloud||
\\Shoda Hoshihana, Cloud Jounin//
//Arechihana Sasori, Spartoi\\
||Yotarou Ouji, SUNA chuunin||Koike Kano, ANBU||
||Hasami Kuma, the Iron Devil of Sound||Tsubasa Kinoshita, Rain Jounin||
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Old 07-09-2010, 09:34 PM   #10
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Approval for that creepy lookin' mofo.
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