Name: Isao
Age: 12
Gender: Male
General Description: Isao is a tad on the lanky side for his age. Even despite having hit only the beginning stages of puberty, it's obvious that he's bound to be one tall son of a gun. Standing at about 4' 10", the first thing most people notice about Isao after his height is his winning smile. A constant companion that few have seen him without, Isao's smile is as inspiring as it is heart warming. His brown eyes and closely cropped brown hair hint at his family's origins in the Stone Village, a frequent topic of discussion with new friends. In the warmer months, Isao can be found wearing a light, long sleeved shirt with a white background behind a large red Cloud Village emblem on the front accompanied by a pair of black cotton pants. When temperatures call for something more practical, he dons a thick black jacket.
History: Dum Da Dum Da Dum Dum Dum Dum Dummmmmmmm Da! The sound of the drum was music to Isao's ears. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath of the chill, salty air. He could feel the ship sway to and fro on the current, could smell the approach of lightning on the air. There would be a storm today, and he would help welcome it. Swaying slightly to the beat, Isao crouched down in the traditional stance, clasping his partner's hand in his own as they prepared for the thunder dance. The main mast groaned in the wind as he nodded to the larger, much older man. This would likely be a short dance. Best not to waste time.
The drums quickened as Isao and his partner cartwheeled into the center of the circle. The entire crew had gathered on deck, as was their custom, to meet the storm. There were three drummers standing next to the main mast, and the rest were humming or singing according to each sailor's preference. Isao hopped as his partner threw out a probing sweep. It was slow, meant for a beginning dancer, and Isao avoided it with ease. He'd progressed quickly in the dance in the four years he'd been sailing on The Bolt. When he'd first been taken on by the crew, he'd hardly even known how to cartwheel, but now he could reply to his partner's sweep with a perfectly executed high front kick, leaning back as he extended his leg, hands meeting the deck just as his partner ducked under the kick. Another sweep came, this time closer and aimed at Isao's hands. It was fast, meant to catch him off guard. Of course, Goro was toying with him a bit. He'd been a member of The Bolt's crew for decades and had performed more thunder dances than he could count. Still, he couldn't help but be impressed when Isao transitioned perfectly from high kick to back flip just in time to miss the sweep.
Goro grinned as Isao's back flip transitioned into a front somersault and he leaned to the side, parallel with the waving deck of the ship as Isao's ax kick just missed his head. Yes, this boy would be a fine dancer one day. For now, though, it was time remind the boy of humility. The thunder gods were certainly not a bunch to be treated with arrogance. As Isao leaned into a cartwheel to return to a standing position, he found himself the midst of a flurry of feet. Goro had raised himself into a handstand and was now kicking in rapid succession at Isao's head and torso. The boy's dexterity seemed to be enough as he bobbed and weaved around the kicks, but the instant he though he might be able to return the blows, perhaps with a sliding sweep, Goro played his ace in the hole. As Isao dropped to deliver the sliding sweep, he saw all too late that Goro had anticipated the move, coiling the muscles in his abdomen and legs, and just as Isao's body lowered to the deck of The Bolt, Goro launched himself from his handstand, flying over Isao and landing on his feet behind the boy' shoulders. Isao tried to roll back onto his shoulders and launch to his feet, but Goro was too quick. A light pressure forced Isao's shoulder to the deck as Goro eyed him proudly, winning the dance with a bare foot on the boy's chest.
Dum...Dum...Da Dum! The drums stopped as Isao let out a sigh of mild disappointment. He'd lost yet another dance, despite his years of practice. He knew he shouldn't be upset; Goro had been dancing for decades, but still he would have liked to win just once. Still, though, it had been a great dance. With a smile as wide as the ocean he sailed upon, Isao grasped Goro's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The deck was moving more violently now, and the air nearly bristled with desire to let loose what they were all waiting for. It wouldn't do to let the first thunder crash go un-preceded by prayer, so the crew quickly bent their heads as they prayed to the thunder gods. Hopefully they would be pleased by Isao and Goro's dance. Hopefully they would take the take their prayers to the Wind Lords, and agree to allow The Bolt safe passage to Port Cirrus. A moment passed, and the crew was rewarded with the first smack of thunder and flash of lightning in the distance. Goro smiled at Isao, saying,
"That was a fine dance, Boy. I'm sure the gods will let us through. Now let's get to work!"
He clapped on hand on Isao's shoulder and rushed off to man his place at the main mast. Isao's role in the crew seemed much more mundane than hoisting and trimming the sails, but it was just as crucial. He would be sitting in the crow's nest watching for treacherous water ahead. It was for this reason that he had been invited to dance for this storm. How could the thunder gods strike down one who had danced in their honor, after all? Isao scrambled up to the crows nest, eyes searching for signs trouble. The sky rumbled once again, a flash of lighting passing, this time a little closer than before. He smiled as he watched the thunder gods put on their show. A truly powerful bunch they were to throw flashes of yellow death around like that. One of the men below yelled up to Isao, asking if he saw anything. A crack of thunder obscured Isao's reply. He took a deep breath, and was just about to yell back "All clear!" when he was cut off by the a flash of heat and light, a deafening boom resounding above him. Isao's scream was lost to the crew of The Bolt as their main mast, and Isao with it, came crashing down. The lighting had struck the mast just above the boy's head, causing the mast to split in two, one side carrying Isao into the waters below, the other falling, burning to the deck of The Bolt. Men rushed to extinguish the fire, some of them diving into the water after their youngest crew member.
Isao's shock was complimented by that of the freezing water as he plunged into the depths of the North Sea. He felt his mind begin to slip for a split second before he pulled himself back to reality. It may have been years of being told what to do in case he ever found himself overboard, and perhaps it was simply a youthful desire to live. Whatever the reason, Isao's mind came back to him and he swam toward the direction his body wanted to float, passing by the splintered remains of the mast as he went. His head broke the surface of the water with a gasp. He looked around frantically, trying to make sense of his situation, and was greeted by the yells of his crew mates swimming to meet him. He smiled briefly, though the relief was short lived as his gaze moved to The Bolt and the fire blazing on her deck. The other half of the mast had proven in-extinguishable, thwarting the crew's best attempts to put it out. Realizing their plight, some of the crew had already dove into the sea, grabbing on to pieces of the shattered mast for support. Isao did the same as his friends swam out to meet him. One them was moving his lips but Isao couldn't quite make out what he was saying. A confused expression on the boy's face prompted the crew member to grab Isao by the arm and drag him over to a floating plank.
It must have been hours before The Bolt stopped burning, a blackened shadow of what it had been just a short while before. Isao had taken to silently floating, shivering with the rest of the crew. He still couldn't quite hear what the others were saying, but he could occasionally make out the sound of thunder above, or the approach of a particularly large wave for which he had only to brace himself and hope he wouldn't be pulled too far under. All he could think about, all he had thought about for the past few hours, was why in the world would the thunder gods punish them so? They danced for every storm, and danced well at that. Why would the thunder gods punish them and not the crew of a ship that didn't dance at all. It seemed his entire world had come crashing down with the mast of that ship. Everything the crew had taught him from the time he'd joined them at 9 years old had turned out to be flawed somehow, but he couldn't even seem to make out how. Even worse, he couldn't even ask them why the would be punished this way as he wouldn't even be able to hear their answer. All he could do was float on and watch the destruction of his home, hoping he would live long enough to float to Port Cirrus.
6 Months Later...
Isao woke with a pounding headache. He'd had one for months and it never seemed to get much better. He sighed as he slipped on his boots and swung his legs to the side of his bed. He stretched, catlike as he stood from the small cot, looking around the small wooden room that had been his home for the past 6 months. The rest of the crew, or what was left of it anyway, still slept soundly, storing up energy to work at the Port Cirrus docks. Isao slipped his shirt on and carefully crept down the wooden ladder, careful not to wake his hosts. The old couple had taken in The Bolt's crew after they'd washed ashore that day, giving them beds and a roof over the heads but not much more. What more could they do, really? The crew wouldn't be happy again until they'd saved up the money for another ship, but Isao knew that was unlikely to ever happen. The storm had reduced the crew to fewer than half their original numbers, and work at the docks barely paid enough to keep each man fed, let alone buy a ship. Isao opened the door to the cottage, sighing as he started down the road. He'd catch a cart into the Cloud Village today. It would be his first of many long, early morning rides into town now that he'd started school. School in the Cloud Village, it seemed, would be a little different from the tutoring sessions Goro had given Isao on The Bolt. The crew hadn't talked about hit much, but it seemed to have something to do with the "ninja" Isao had heard about occasionally whenever they'd stopped in to port. It seemed a silly notion that children Isao's age would attend school to become one of those god-men he'd heard about, yet that was the implication of the brief snippets of conversation Isao had heard. Nonetheless, seeing as he was too young to work the docks, all Isao could do was make the best of the situation the old couple had so graciously arranged for him, and see what this "academy" was really all about.
Age: 12
Gender: Male
General Description: Isao is a tad on the lanky side for his age. Even despite having hit only the beginning stages of puberty, it's obvious that he's bound to be one tall son of a gun. Standing at about 4' 10", the first thing most people notice about Isao after his height is his winning smile. A constant companion that few have seen him without, Isao's smile is as inspiring as it is heart warming. His brown eyes and closely cropped brown hair hint at his family's origins in the Stone Village, a frequent topic of discussion with new friends. In the warmer months, Isao can be found wearing a light, long sleeved shirt with a white background behind a large red Cloud Village emblem on the front accompanied by a pair of black cotton pants. When temperatures call for something more practical, he dons a thick black jacket.
History: Dum Da Dum Da Dum Dum Dum Dum Dummmmmmmm Da! The sound of the drum was music to Isao's ears. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath of the chill, salty air. He could feel the ship sway to and fro on the current, could smell the approach of lightning on the air. There would be a storm today, and he would help welcome it. Swaying slightly to the beat, Isao crouched down in the traditional stance, clasping his partner's hand in his own as they prepared for the thunder dance. The main mast groaned in the wind as he nodded to the larger, much older man. This would likely be a short dance. Best not to waste time.
The drums quickened as Isao and his partner cartwheeled into the center of the circle. The entire crew had gathered on deck, as was their custom, to meet the storm. There were three drummers standing next to the main mast, and the rest were humming or singing according to each sailor's preference. Isao hopped as his partner threw out a probing sweep. It was slow, meant for a beginning dancer, and Isao avoided it with ease. He'd progressed quickly in the dance in the four years he'd been sailing on The Bolt. When he'd first been taken on by the crew, he'd hardly even known how to cartwheel, but now he could reply to his partner's sweep with a perfectly executed high front kick, leaning back as he extended his leg, hands meeting the deck just as his partner ducked under the kick. Another sweep came, this time closer and aimed at Isao's hands. It was fast, meant to catch him off guard. Of course, Goro was toying with him a bit. He'd been a member of The Bolt's crew for decades and had performed more thunder dances than he could count. Still, he couldn't help but be impressed when Isao transitioned perfectly from high kick to back flip just in time to miss the sweep.
Goro grinned as Isao's back flip transitioned into a front somersault and he leaned to the side, parallel with the waving deck of the ship as Isao's ax kick just missed his head. Yes, this boy would be a fine dancer one day. For now, though, it was time remind the boy of humility. The thunder gods were certainly not a bunch to be treated with arrogance. As Isao leaned into a cartwheel to return to a standing position, he found himself the midst of a flurry of feet. Goro had raised himself into a handstand and was now kicking in rapid succession at Isao's head and torso. The boy's dexterity seemed to be enough as he bobbed and weaved around the kicks, but the instant he though he might be able to return the blows, perhaps with a sliding sweep, Goro played his ace in the hole. As Isao dropped to deliver the sliding sweep, he saw all too late that Goro had anticipated the move, coiling the muscles in his abdomen and legs, and just as Isao's body lowered to the deck of The Bolt, Goro launched himself from his handstand, flying over Isao and landing on his feet behind the boy' shoulders. Isao tried to roll back onto his shoulders and launch to his feet, but Goro was too quick. A light pressure forced Isao's shoulder to the deck as Goro eyed him proudly, winning the dance with a bare foot on the boy's chest.
Dum...Dum...Da Dum! The drums stopped as Isao let out a sigh of mild disappointment. He'd lost yet another dance, despite his years of practice. He knew he shouldn't be upset; Goro had been dancing for decades, but still he would have liked to win just once. Still, though, it had been a great dance. With a smile as wide as the ocean he sailed upon, Isao grasped Goro's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The deck was moving more violently now, and the air nearly bristled with desire to let loose what they were all waiting for. It wouldn't do to let the first thunder crash go un-preceded by prayer, so the crew quickly bent their heads as they prayed to the thunder gods. Hopefully they would be pleased by Isao and Goro's dance. Hopefully they would take the take their prayers to the Wind Lords, and agree to allow The Bolt safe passage to Port Cirrus. A moment passed, and the crew was rewarded with the first smack of thunder and flash of lightning in the distance. Goro smiled at Isao, saying,
"That was a fine dance, Boy. I'm sure the gods will let us through. Now let's get to work!"
He clapped on hand on Isao's shoulder and rushed off to man his place at the main mast. Isao's role in the crew seemed much more mundane than hoisting and trimming the sails, but it was just as crucial. He would be sitting in the crow's nest watching for treacherous water ahead. It was for this reason that he had been invited to dance for this storm. How could the thunder gods strike down one who had danced in their honor, after all? Isao scrambled up to the crows nest, eyes searching for signs trouble. The sky rumbled once again, a flash of lighting passing, this time a little closer than before. He smiled as he watched the thunder gods put on their show. A truly powerful bunch they were to throw flashes of yellow death around like that. One of the men below yelled up to Isao, asking if he saw anything. A crack of thunder obscured Isao's reply. He took a deep breath, and was just about to yell back "All clear!" when he was cut off by the a flash of heat and light, a deafening boom resounding above him. Isao's scream was lost to the crew of The Bolt as their main mast, and Isao with it, came crashing down. The lighting had struck the mast just above the boy's head, causing the mast to split in two, one side carrying Isao into the waters below, the other falling, burning to the deck of The Bolt. Men rushed to extinguish the fire, some of them diving into the water after their youngest crew member.
Isao's shock was complimented by that of the freezing water as he plunged into the depths of the North Sea. He felt his mind begin to slip for a split second before he pulled himself back to reality. It may have been years of being told what to do in case he ever found himself overboard, and perhaps it was simply a youthful desire to live. Whatever the reason, Isao's mind came back to him and he swam toward the direction his body wanted to float, passing by the splintered remains of the mast as he went. His head broke the surface of the water with a gasp. He looked around frantically, trying to make sense of his situation, and was greeted by the yells of his crew mates swimming to meet him. He smiled briefly, though the relief was short lived as his gaze moved to The Bolt and the fire blazing on her deck. The other half of the mast had proven in-extinguishable, thwarting the crew's best attempts to put it out. Realizing their plight, some of the crew had already dove into the sea, grabbing on to pieces of the shattered mast for support. Isao did the same as his friends swam out to meet him. One them was moving his lips but Isao couldn't quite make out what he was saying. A confused expression on the boy's face prompted the crew member to grab Isao by the arm and drag him over to a floating plank.
It must have been hours before The Bolt stopped burning, a blackened shadow of what it had been just a short while before. Isao had taken to silently floating, shivering with the rest of the crew. He still couldn't quite hear what the others were saying, but he could occasionally make out the sound of thunder above, or the approach of a particularly large wave for which he had only to brace himself and hope he wouldn't be pulled too far under. All he could think about, all he had thought about for the past few hours, was why in the world would the thunder gods punish them so? They danced for every storm, and danced well at that. Why would the thunder gods punish them and not the crew of a ship that didn't dance at all. It seemed his entire world had come crashing down with the mast of that ship. Everything the crew had taught him from the time he'd joined them at 9 years old had turned out to be flawed somehow, but he couldn't even seem to make out how. Even worse, he couldn't even ask them why the would be punished this way as he wouldn't even be able to hear their answer. All he could do was float on and watch the destruction of his home, hoping he would live long enough to float to Port Cirrus.
6 Months Later...
Isao woke with a pounding headache. He'd had one for months and it never seemed to get much better. He sighed as he slipped on his boots and swung his legs to the side of his bed. He stretched, catlike as he stood from the small cot, looking around the small wooden room that had been his home for the past 6 months. The rest of the crew, or what was left of it anyway, still slept soundly, storing up energy to work at the Port Cirrus docks. Isao slipped his shirt on and carefully crept down the wooden ladder, careful not to wake his hosts. The old couple had taken in The Bolt's crew after they'd washed ashore that day, giving them beds and a roof over the heads but not much more. What more could they do, really? The crew wouldn't be happy again until they'd saved up the money for another ship, but Isao knew that was unlikely to ever happen. The storm had reduced the crew to fewer than half their original numbers, and work at the docks barely paid enough to keep each man fed, let alone buy a ship. Isao opened the door to the cottage, sighing as he started down the road. He'd catch a cart into the Cloud Village today. It would be his first of many long, early morning rides into town now that he'd started school. School in the Cloud Village, it seemed, would be a little different from the tutoring sessions Goro had given Isao on The Bolt. The crew hadn't talked about hit much, but it seemed to have something to do with the "ninja" Isao had heard about occasionally whenever they'd stopped in to port. It seemed a silly notion that children Isao's age would attend school to become one of those god-men he'd heard about, yet that was the implication of the brief snippets of conversation Isao had heard. Nonetheless, seeing as he was too young to work the docks, all Isao could do was make the best of the situation the old couple had so graciously arranged for him, and see what this "academy" was really all about.
