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Old 03-17-2014, 12:08 PM   #1
darkbeauty
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Default [Nukenin] Kuroki Miyuki


Name: Kuroki Miyuki
aka "The Lynx"
Age: 24
Sex: Female
Height: 5'7

Character Type: Nukenin

Country/Village: Yukigakure
Rank: Jounin
Division: Refugee

Physical Description: Miyuki's hair is a flowing, thick avalanche. As white as fresh snow, the strands are usually tied back by a dark ribbon with only her bangs remaining free. Her eyes are a ghostly violet, beginning with a dark purple in the outer ring that fades into a paler purple slightly blue. Sometimes, they may appear red but it is merely a trick by the light. The environment of her homeland has conditioned her skin to lack color. She is purely pale. But when surrounded by the cold, her cheeks and nose fade to a delicate pink that resembles her lips. She has a beautiful smile but has abandoned it since the destruction of her village. Miyuki rarely offers sincere smiles. Instead, she will imitate happiness until her mouth shakes. Her teeth are shown, but the light in her eyes has vanished. Instead, her purple irises carry the sadness of the world. She has learned how to perfectly manipulate her facial muscles to emulate any feeling. Normally, though, she wears a strange, listless expression.

She was always a small, thin girl. However the grief and loss of her home upset her so violently that she has been working to become stronger. Muscles that were formerly ignored are now regularly trained. Miyuki will never be a woman with a bulging physique, but she is trying her hardest. Her body may be thick with muscle however her feminine curves are a great contrast. They are more subtle, something that Miyuki is privately embarrassed of.

Clothing: Because she travels often, Miyuki does not own much clothing. She is an admirer of dresses thus the majority of her apparel is such. A short sleeveless, violet dress with slight lace detailing at the hem is her frequent attire. Delicately draping over her legs, the dress touches her knees at its full length. It is the first purchase she made after leaving Yukigakure; it is her favorite. A black bolero jacket with full length sleeves rests over her torso. Although she is a refugee, Miyuki refuses to dress in simplicity. Sometimes she will add black tights, sometimes she will ignore them. She owns a single pair of shoes, though. Black, ankle boots comfortable enough for easy mobility however not gaudy enough for attention.

Miyuki effortlessly sinks into a crowd despite the sophisticated costume. However, she owns other disguises as well. In more extreme winter climates, she will wear a long, black jacket that buttons to her nose. Her petite frame makes the coat look somewhat silly and even cute on her. Whilst residing in hotter climates, she owns some lighter dresses that bare skin. Upon entering a new region, she will search for appropriate clothing if necessary. She carries no clothing from her home and every new village is a unique character.


Personality: Miyuki's formality is usually confused with either courtesy or hostility. While her speech may be refined and polite, she is cold with honesty. Often times, she will come off as rude and insulting without intending. It is simply how she expresses herself; her language is not coated with flattery and kindness. She is typically accepting of people although it is not always illustrated through her speech.

Despite her words and often harsh delivery, she is a compassionate person. Her actions are genuine and she means well. When given a responsibility, she will place all of her heart and effort into it. Unfortunately, she hides her heart most of the time. Miyuki will not let her emotions carelessly slip. Her sentiments are locked away, only viewed by those she trusts. But usually, she acts rather nonchalant and withdrawn. She is calm even whilst confronting conflict. However in the pit of her soul is something so pure that it twists knots into her stomach. Since the destruction of Yukigakure, her rage has been burgeoning.

This anger has made her selfish, fearless, and incredibly motivated. It is almost frightening to confront Miyuki when she is absolutely serious, and quite difficult to discourage her when she is determined. She is absolutely greedy for happiness, willing to take it from wherever she can find it.

Nindo: I refuse to be a fragile bird.

Primary Archetype: [V]irtuoso
Stat Merit: +1 to Intelligence, +1 to Tactics, +1 to Control
Stat Flaw: -1 to Stamina, -1 to Willpower, -1 to Power

-----------------------------------

Statistics

Physical [Tertiary]

Strength: 1+15[F] = 16 [+9 SK Bonus]
Speed: 1+12[F] = 13
Stamina: 1-1[V]+13[F] = 13

Mental [Secondary]

Intelligence: 1+1[V]+16[F] = 18
Tactics: 1+1[V]+16[F] = 18
Willpower: 1-1[V]+18[F] +3[TP] = 22

Chakra [Primary]

Power: 1-1[V]+20[F]+2[TP] = 22
Control: 1+1[V]+20[F]+2[TP] = 24
Reserves: 1+20[F] = 21

--------------------------------------------------

Jutsu and Techniques:

Those Lacking Opacity
Stage One
[F] Maboroshi no Mai (Dance of Illusion)
Requirements: Power 3, Willpower 2
[F] Bougyou (Sabotage)
Requirements: Power 4, Control 4
Stage Two
[F] Ensou (Gathering Point)
Requirements: Power 6, Control 6, Intelligence 4
Stage Three
[F] Kagetegakari no Jutsu (Shadow Trace)
Requirements: Intelligence 9, Tactics 9, Control 7

Ice Ninjutsu
Stage One
[F] Hyouton: Kioko no Nanda (Ice Element: Tears of Memory)
Requirements: 3 Reserves, 2 Tactics
Stage Two
[F] Hyouton: Reinigiri (Ice Element: Zero Grip)
Requirements: 6 Reserves, 6 Power, 4 Willpower
[F] Hyouton: Tsubame Fubuki (Ice Element: Swallow Snow Storm)
Requirements: 5 Reserves, 4 Power, 4 Control
Stage Three
[F] Hyouton: Tsubetai Murasuzume (Freezing Flock)
Requirements: 10 Reserves, 10 Power, 8 Tactics
Stage Four
[F] Hyouton: Gimou Chiyu (Ice Element: False Healing)
Requirements: 14 Willpower, 13 Intelligence, 11 Tactics, 10 Power
Stage Five
[TP] Hyouton: Boufuu (Ice Element: Storm)
Requirements: 18 Willpower, 17 Intelligence, 17 Tactics, 14 Power
[TP] Hyouton: Kori Bunshin (Ice Element: Ice Clone)
Requirements: 17 Willpower, 16 Intelligence, 16 Tactics, 15 Reserves

Global Genjutsu
Stage One
[F] Fukushi no Jutsu (Double Vision Technique)
Requirements: Power 3, Willpower 2
Stage Two
[AP] Snowblind
Swapping Out: Senro Ue Fuku no Jutsu (Track Covering Technique)
Requirements: Willpower 6, Intelligence 5, Power 5
[AP] Burn
Swapping Out: Meisai no Jutsu (Camouflage Technique)
Requirements: Willpower 7, Intelligence 7, Power
Stage Three
[AP] Ikamono Chikara no Chakra (Fake Chakra Power)
Requirement: Willpower 9, Intelligence 9, Power 7
Stage Four
[V: Special] Father's Voice
Swapping Out: Nise Shookanjoo No Jutsu (False Summons Technique)
Requirements: Control 14, Power 13, Reserves 11, Intelligence 10

Precision Fist
[2F] Stage One: Control 5, Power 3
[2F] Stage Two: Control 8, Power 6, Strength 6
[F] Transfer
[2F] Stage Three: Control 12, Power 8, Strength 8
[F] Spike

Inventory:
Shinobi Kit [0]

Weapon Points Remaining: [8/8]


Biography: I wonder how many thousands of words I wrote every day when I was younger. I would scribble random thoughts in my journals, as if I was struck by the odd strangeness of everything every time I picked up my pen. I recorded the details of common flora, unimpressive geology, and local people as if they were rarities. Life was unique, bizarre, and incredibly fascinating. But if I had the chance to read back my writings, I shudder to imagine how I enjoyed such childish ideas and presumptuous rhetoric. The world is not oddly beautiful. It is cruel, destructive, and repulsive.

I am sitting adjacent to Shiro right now. They have finished loading the coal into the ship. A group of card players have settled in on my right. Shiro is asleep. We are moving now. His head fell on my shoulder.

I have learned how depressing this transient life can be. I am aware of the fallibility of humans, of the faults in even the strongest shinobi. In particular, I realize what a weak person I am. And perhaps by writing again, I can atone for my actions.

I am thankful for my very attentive father, Kuroki Hideaki. Because of him, my life lacked nothing despite losing my mother at an early age. I was born when our village was approaching the summer season. The days would grow longer however summer in Yukigakure was simply a short interruption between the blizzards and snowfalls. My father and mother loved me as much as their hearts would allow. We were a happy, simple family.

At the tender age of seven, my mother's heart began decaying. I remember feeling intense guilt, as if I had been somehow responsible for her condition. It took my father many years to convince me that I was not a murderer. I wonder how many more years it will take me to believe his words.

It was my mother's last wish that I became a shinobi. My father, a man of loyalty, a shinobi as well, took her dying words sincerely and registered me at the shinobi academy precisely after her funeral. To be quite honest, I don't remember what I learned at the academy. Years of experience have taught me more than I could have studied from a book. I possessed a diary throughout my childhood but those books have burned. All I have are vague memories of my naïve self fantasizing a fairytale where I would save the world. And my father let me believe it. It was my mother's wish after all.

When I was a Genin, terms such as prodigy and brilliant were never used. I was good, but I was not special. I knew what had to be done, so I did it. Perhaps my emotionless countenance scared my teammates and bestowed me with the role of team leader, but I was never an extraordinary shinobi. This is not modesty; this is truth. My proud father, a sensei of another team, showered me in praise. And after a few years of scrubbing foreign blood off my clothing, I was promoted to a Chuunin. In retrospect, maybe it was my imagination, but I saw my father deliberately distancing himself from me.

One day, I discovered that he was dedicating himself to another shinobi more promising than me. Hatsuyuki Shiro. I remained silent of my envy.

As years often do, they changed me. I grew faster and stronger. I learned patience and diplomacy, authority and brutality. I learned to love my people and honor my career. Some months I traveled across the snow mountains alone, others times I followed men and women with experience years ahead of me. And I learned from them, too. It would all end the same way, though. Someone would die, someone would live.

I wish I could forget the years I spent angry at Kuroki Hideaki. However it was this spirit that drove me to my Jounin promotion. I cringe when I think about the evils my hands have committed.

Yukigakure was flourishing, it was a blossoming winter flower. I began to believe I was as well. It was between those years that I began pushing myself to be better. I wanted to be special; I wanted glory. I wanted my father to look at me the same way he did when he mentioned Shiro. My mission success rates increased to perfection. I killed enough people to fill a village of my own. It did not matter to me whether they were old, young, men, women. I stole, hunted, betrayed, assassinated, and carved a resolve that suited my needs. Eventually, my father's words stopped reaching me. It was the Snow village that finally took notice and gave me the approval I yearned. Terms such as prodigy and brilliant were not used. My entire career was summed up by another word: Jounin.

The Snow village was grand; we were strong. We thought we were unstoppable. I was assigned to instruct academy students, lead Chuunin into combat, and there was even discussion of collaborating with the Tetsudai. I was not a waste of space in the ever-growing, constantly changing Yukigakure. I was proud of myself. Perhaps that stubborn pride was my downfall.

As I write this transcript of my life, my father is dying in a war he will not win. Tears prevent me from continuing my story, but I will hasten before I lose total control. Kuroki Hideaki appeared at my door earlier today for breakfast. We rekindled our relationship earlier this year; nonetheless it was still a wounded bond. I should have never assumed we had more time to improve it.

“Miyuki-chan.” He dragged me into his arms, into a tight embrace and squeezed me. “I am so...”

His body began to shake softly, the convulsions rippled into me. He was quietly crying.

“Your mother and I are very proud of you.”

I wanted to ask why he was speaking these kind words. I wanted to understand the softness in his eyes and melancholy frown on his face.

“You have grown into a strong woman. Brave. Fearless. Utterly amazing.”

His tears were contagious, but I suppressed mine. I could not articulate a word; I did not know what to say either. My father just spoke to me the words I was waiting years to hear, and yet I had no coherent response. So I laughed instead. Small chuckles fled my lips and gradually erupted into a hearty laughter. I laughed at myself, at my father, at my stupid envy for Shiro, at the village, at my future. I laughed at everything. He started to laugh too. We laughed in harmony, and then he left. That was the last time I saw Kuroki Hideaki.

That was the day Yukigakure was conquered by Konohagakure. Rather than pardoning at least our civilians, Konohagakure annihilated everything. They destroyed our technology, our shinobi, our homes, and our nation. We were always in conflict with them, but the fire and leaf shinobi wanted a resolution that my people were not prepared for. A renewed pain moves into my body as I reflect the occurrence on these pages. This ache is so deeply etched upon my heart that I feel it is impossible I will feel anything else again; however I will continue moving my pen.

A dog barked in the distance as the sun dipped into the horizon. We were at war immediately. Calling it a war is sympathy; it was an extermination of my people. Yukigakure was facing an apocalypse and not a single person could stop it. I was prepared to fight with my people, defend the village I promised my life to, and die alongside my father. As I was equipping myself, taking a final glance at my life, Hatsuyuki Shiro appeared with my father’s coat and two boat tickets for Iron. Bruised and battered and bleeding, he held me against my will and forced me out of the village.

"You bastard, you bastard!" I screamed at him with tears in my eyes, struggling to shove him out of my way. But he would not let me pass. “I hate you.” My lips trembled, I was sobbing and whimpering into the front of his coat—my father's coat. It smelled the same as it had that morning. “Just let me die with them. You bastard.”

It was my father’s last wish that Shiro took me away. Kuroki Hideaki wanted me to survive and Shiro would not betray his dying words. I could not break his grip so I succumbed to it and fell into his arms. We escaped and took the path my father intended for us.

That was mere hours ago. I have not stopped crying since, but what is the purpose of my tears? They will not recover my fallen village or bring my father from the grave. Men like Hatsuyuki Shiro are rare indeed and to this very moment, my entire being loathes his existence.


It has been roughly over a year since I fled Yukigakure with Shiro.

I do not touch this journal other than to write my poetry and occasional thoughts. My father was a poet; I have adopted the role as well.

At first, I did not want to this life. I despised being a refugee. The first months of this exiled existence were spent struggling to settle my feelings. I was a monster for abandoning my village. I was a coward for allowing my father to die. I was a weakling for staying alive while my people were frozen corpses. But I also learned that I was a survivor.

After arriving in Iron, Shiro and I moved to the Bear mountains. We hid. We waited. We had to pause until things subsided. It was still not safe for us. Along the way, we realized we were lost. Arguing was useless, we were all we had. Although I hated Shiro, he is the only piece of Yukigakure left. When I am around him, I do not feel so alone. I hold a deep regard for him. He has been loyal to my father's word since the moment they were spoken. It is a valuable trait and for that I admire him, I suppose.

As we continued our voyage, we reached the foreign Fire Country. Within the land of my enemies, I discarded my entire life as a shinobi and became a civilian. Sometimes Shiro and I posed as a couple, other times we were siblings, but we passed through the world which only grew bigger the more we traveled. We were quiet; we were ignored. Yet, we could never find a place we considered home. Sometimes I believe I do not belong in this world anymore. Shiro's presence is the only thing that allows me to remember my existence. I may be a phantom to the world, but I am someone to him. How romantic it is to think so.

We are traveling to the River Country right now. I have considered visiting Yukigakure. I understand that my village has not survived, however I cannot help but feel an obligation to it. I am certain Shiro feels the same way as me. I must see Yukigakure once more. I must pay my respects.

Before I conclude this entry, I would like to share a haiku:

Like snow melts in spring,
My eyes shut and free cold tears,
Winter is coming.

Other Info:
- Miyuki writes haikus. She finds solace in them and even believes that they will bring her luck. Haikus represent the communion between her and her understanding of the world. Often, she will try to resolve or evaluate her emotions through them. Sometimes she recites them before a battle, sometimes as soon as she awakes.
- Often, she wonders how much longer Shiro will stay. Although she knows she does not need him to protect her, she enjoys his company. If he left, Miyuki would be upset perhaps even heartbroken. But she does not expect him to stay with her forever and is still trying to come to terms with this thought.
- Although her village was annihilated and she wanted to die with her people, she has secretly learned to be thankful of her life. She is happy to be alive. Survivor's guilt occasionally lingers, but less every day.
- Her blood type is A-. (Strong on accepting and carrying out responsibilities, often remain silent if they are bothered by something in order to avoid argument. A hard worker, but kind and is willing to be led by O types.)
- In her head, she occasionally has conversations with her father as if he is in the room with her. She does not speak aloud of it ever.
- Although she has grown to be friends with Shiro, she is still incredibly envious that her father left his jacket to him instead of her.

Thread Ratings:
Character Creation: 3 AP on Jutsu
05/02/14 [River] Jovian Winds - +1 Willpower, Hyouton: Boufuu
05/17/14 [Snow] Cosmonaut - +2 Power, +2 Control
07/11/15 [Iron] Dark Matters - +2 Willpower, Hyouton: Kori Bunshin
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Old 03-17-2014, 09:36 PM   #2
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Old 03-18-2014, 06:31 PM   #3
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Old 03-18-2014, 08:37 PM   #4
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Is that stupid jacket really a plot point? It's not going to like, be made of life fibers and revive as her dead dad at some point, right?

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Old 03-22-2014, 07:09 PM   #5
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Half-approved, mon amie (or whatever, I don't speak european).
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Old 03-22-2014, 08:21 PM   #6
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