[col3]
[col3]
Izanagi stands at a very tall height of six feet, three inches, an arrogantly self-titled model of physical perfection. His build adheres to the figure of a budding athlete, slim-muscled but not quite lanky; not anywhere near bulky, either. The boy's movements are fluid and calculated, with his sharp, elegant visage exhibiting a common expression of firm indifference. His caramel-colored skin is devoid of obvious markings, tattoos or scarring or otherwise. In stark contrast, Izanagi's platinum-blonde hair is long and flowing, seeming more at home with his incredibly bright emerald eyes than his brown-toned skin.
[ A G I L I T Y ] 100/175
[ S T A M I N A ] 100/175
[ T A I J U T S U ] 100/175
[ N I N J U T S U ] 82/175
[ G E N J U T S U ] 100/175
[ C H A K R A - C O N T R O L ] 100%/175%
[ P O W E R - L E V E L ] 582
[ R A N K ]
Academy Student
C-Rank|
[ O B L I T E R A T I O N ]
HP (60+6+lvl) x stamina
CP (30+lvl) x chakra control
Class Bonus +1 Accuracy and +5% Taijutsu Melee Damage, +0.5 Accuracy
High Melee Accuracy
Average Evasion, Genjutsu Save, Ninjutsu Accuracy, Ranged Accuracy
Low Puppet Accuracy, Genjutsu Difficulty
[ HP ] 6900
[ CP ] 3300|
"Izanagi, come." A powerful voice basically shattered the small boy's intense concentration, trying dearly not to blink and lose what he and his friends called the Ultimate No Blinking Contest of the World, where he was only the second-best. They were all breaking records today, having trained in earnest for nearly a week to win the small pot of money they'd all contributed to.
A yelp and a blink was his first reaction, before sighing somewhat sadly as he got up and ran to his father; a giant of a man, standing over seven feet tall and covered in bulging muscle. He'd always felt incredibly small next to his father, even more so when he was being glared at, like he was now.
"Izanagi, why are spending your time doing foolish things? Why are you not training as I told you to weeks ago?" His father basically yelled, causing the young boy to wring his hands in what had long been an uncomfortable tick. He didn't answer, as he already knew he wasn't supposed to. He just looked at his feet, waiting until he was sent on his way to abuse more tree trunks for hours on end, punching and throwing projectiles and even more punching.
He stumbled slightly as he felt his father's giant hand nearly envelope the back of his head, guiding him firmly but not in a manner that hurt back home, Izanagi's dread growing with each step.
Years later, the once happy, carefree, and wild boy known as Izanagi (Nagi by friends) entered the Academy notably later than most, grown beyond his years thanks to the tutelage of his father. There'd been rumors about him, mostly spread by his old friends, as they'd barely seen him after that day in years past. Glimpses and hints, sure, but he rarely left his home, instead sticking to his fenced backyard to train relentlessly, something that had been beaten into him so much he learned to love it in a simple manner.
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[ N A M E ]
Mizushima Izanagi
|[ A G E ]
12
|[ G E N D E R ]
Male
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[ P H Y S I C A L - D E S C R I P T I O N ]
Izanagi stands at a very tall height of six feet, three inches, an arrogantly self-titled model of physical perfection. His build adheres to the figure of a budding athlete, slim-muscled but not quite lanky; not anywhere near bulky, either. The boy's movements are fluid and calculated, with his sharp, elegant visage exhibiting a common expression of firm indifference. His caramel-colored skin is devoid of obvious markings, tattoos or scarring or otherwise. In stark contrast, Izanagi's platinum-blonde hair is long and flowing, seeming more at home with his incredibly bright emerald eyes than his brown-toned skin.[ A G I L I T Y ] 100/175
[ S T A M I N A ] 100/175
[ T A I J U T S U ] 100/175
[ N I N J U T S U ] 82/175
[ G E N J U T S U ] 100/175
[ C H A K R A - C O N T R O L ] 100%/175%
[ P O W E R - L E V E L ] 582
[ R A N K ]
Academy Student
C-Rank|
[ M E N T A L - D E S C R I P T I O N ]
Izanagi can easily be defined as an uncaring, arrogant, sarcastic, insensitive asshole. Towards most people, anyway. If you're deemed anything other than an unattractive female or an interesting male, then that's exactly how he'll act towards you. The only things he shows passion towards is combat training, sleeping, combat training, and (rather surprisingly) cooking. Otherwise, he doesn't care and will say as much. Also leads him to a horde of negative social interactions, but as he'll say.... He doesn't care if he's liked or not.
[ O B L I T E R A T I O N ]
HP (60+6+lvl) x stamina
CP (30+lvl) x chakra control
Class Bonus +1 Accuracy and +5% Taijutsu Melee Damage, +0.5 Accuracy
High Melee Accuracy
Average Evasion, Genjutsu Save, Ninjutsu Accuracy, Ranged Accuracy
Low Puppet Accuracy, Genjutsu Difficulty
[ HP ] 6900
[ CP ] 3300|
[ H I S T O R Y ]
A yelp and a blink was his first reaction, before sighing somewhat sadly as he got up and ran to his father; a giant of a man, standing over seven feet tall and covered in bulging muscle. He'd always felt incredibly small next to his father, even more so when he was being glared at, like he was now.
"Izanagi, why are spending your time doing foolish things? Why are you not training as I told you to weeks ago?" His father basically yelled, causing the young boy to wring his hands in what had long been an uncomfortable tick. He didn't answer, as he already knew he wasn't supposed to. He just looked at his feet, waiting until he was sent on his way to abuse more tree trunks for hours on end, punching and throwing projectiles and even more punching.
He stumbled slightly as he felt his father's giant hand nearly envelope the back of his head, guiding him firmly but not in a manner that hurt back home, Izanagi's dread growing with each step.
Years later, the once happy, carefree, and wild boy known as Izanagi (Nagi by friends) entered the Academy notably later than most, grown beyond his years thanks to the tutelage of his father. There'd been rumors about him, mostly spread by his old friends, as they'd barely seen him after that day in years past. Glimpses and hints, sure, but he rarely left his home, instead sticking to his fenced backyard to train relentlessly, something that had been beaten into him so much he learned to love it in a simple manner.