Name:
Motoko Eirei
Age:
13
Physical Description:
Male. He wears a white hooded poncho even on hot days. Underneath, he has paper cloth armor to defend from slashing weapons. His skin is almost albino white and prone to being sunburned. His hands are covered in white boxing wrap. Shielding his calloused skin from the sun and fractures. Under his hood Quinn has long deep red hair like late autumn leaves. The red waves go just past his shoulders. And behind them shine his sad orange eyes. For his age, he has a slim muscular build. On his sternum he has a long slash scar starting from his collarbone, ending midway across his ribs. It is from an encounter with a bandit, where he had been grazed by a shuriken as they robbed his parent's merchant cart on their way between villages. 150cm tall 60kg.
Mental Description: He has a zen like clam to him and smiles easily. Though even with it he carries a sad undercurrent with him. Usually, he is in thought about something. And a secretive altruist. Enjoying giving to or helping others without connecting himself with the deed. He is honest, though often falls silent to personal questions. He has severe PTSD and while he can often overcome his stress and flashbacks, he has forgotten most of his past due to the trauma.
History:
He grew up without any particular village to call home. Instead the word took on a meaning that applied more to an internal state and the people around him than a place. His parents were travelling merchants. And were rather successful as a small scale mom and pop import export operation. As they travelled from land to land he would sit inside the cart. Smitten by the exotic items they hauled. From regional fashion to the latest invention in military arms. Though as often as they travelled, and with the value of their wares, eventually they became an alluring target for bandits. Those of which did not want any witnesses, though they couldn't bring themselves to kill him along with his parents as they found him distraught and cut from a stray shuriken. The one who had thrown it took responsibility for him and raised him half a heart to atone for his seperated a child from his parents right in front of him. All he had was anger for him and the other bandits who saw more value in his parent's possession than their lives. The men were physically stronger than his parents and armed with deadly weapons. Ones that crushed, slashed, pierced, and exploded. He came to hate those as much as the men wielding them. Maybe if it hadn't been for those weapons his parents would've had a chance to escape. Between appeasing his captors, he planned to kill as many of them as he could. One night, he had his courage and strategety built up to act on his anger without regard for his life as he would without doubt be unable to overpower all of the men. As fate would have it, moments before he were to act the Anbu Black Ops overtook the camp swiftly and seemingly without effort. They had been following the trail of the bandits closely as they were diguising their robberies as the actions of warring villages. Creating tensions between the delicate politics. As he saw the masked ninjas dispatch the objects of his hatred in an instant behind their cold, unexpressive masks he felt a calm overtake him that never quite left. The injustice that consumed his mind was ended without passion or seemingly any feeling. His hatred for those men and those weapons were overtaken by the strength of the ninja. He hadn't seen jutsu very often, especially not such deadly ones. He realized that even without weapons, these ninja had power far beyond the bandits. To him it was a profound moment where he realized two things. If he killed against all odds killed these men he would feel just as empty as he did in that moment. And that to these masked ninja, his unasailable conflict was their everyday staircase to ascend. Though he had extended family that would care for him, he begged to join the leaf village as a ninja. Wanting to have strength like the Anbu who saved him from himself. After a lengthy process, he found himself at the Konoha Academy. As he walked those grounds, more at peace more than anyone should be after the death of their old life. His life consumed with becoming more capable than any weapon could be. And wishing to continue his imagined legacy he assigned to the Anbu. Invisible benifactors never needing recognition.
(dramatic, but I thought given some of the Naruto back stories why not give it that daytime drama spice)
Motoko Eirei
Age:
13
Physical Description:
Male. He wears a white hooded poncho even on hot days. Underneath, he has paper cloth armor to defend from slashing weapons. His skin is almost albino white and prone to being sunburned. His hands are covered in white boxing wrap. Shielding his calloused skin from the sun and fractures. Under his hood Quinn has long deep red hair like late autumn leaves. The red waves go just past his shoulders. And behind them shine his sad orange eyes. For his age, he has a slim muscular build. On his sternum he has a long slash scar starting from his collarbone, ending midway across his ribs. It is from an encounter with a bandit, where he had been grazed by a shuriken as they robbed his parent's merchant cart on their way between villages. 150cm tall 60kg.
Mental Description: He has a zen like clam to him and smiles easily. Though even with it he carries a sad undercurrent with him. Usually, he is in thought about something. And a secretive altruist. Enjoying giving to or helping others without connecting himself with the deed. He is honest, though often falls silent to personal questions. He has severe PTSD and while he can often overcome his stress and flashbacks, he has forgotten most of his past due to the trauma.
History:
He grew up without any particular village to call home. Instead the word took on a meaning that applied more to an internal state and the people around him than a place. His parents were travelling merchants. And were rather successful as a small scale mom and pop import export operation. As they travelled from land to land he would sit inside the cart. Smitten by the exotic items they hauled. From regional fashion to the latest invention in military arms. Though as often as they travelled, and with the value of their wares, eventually they became an alluring target for bandits. Those of which did not want any witnesses, though they couldn't bring themselves to kill him along with his parents as they found him distraught and cut from a stray shuriken. The one who had thrown it took responsibility for him and raised him half a heart to atone for his seperated a child from his parents right in front of him. All he had was anger for him and the other bandits who saw more value in his parent's possession than their lives. The men were physically stronger than his parents and armed with deadly weapons. Ones that crushed, slashed, pierced, and exploded. He came to hate those as much as the men wielding them. Maybe if it hadn't been for those weapons his parents would've had a chance to escape. Between appeasing his captors, he planned to kill as many of them as he could. One night, he had his courage and strategety built up to act on his anger without regard for his life as he would without doubt be unable to overpower all of the men. As fate would have it, moments before he were to act the Anbu Black Ops overtook the camp swiftly and seemingly without effort. They had been following the trail of the bandits closely as they were diguising their robberies as the actions of warring villages. Creating tensions between the delicate politics. As he saw the masked ninjas dispatch the objects of his hatred in an instant behind their cold, unexpressive masks he felt a calm overtake him that never quite left. The injustice that consumed his mind was ended without passion or seemingly any feeling. His hatred for those men and those weapons were overtaken by the strength of the ninja. He hadn't seen jutsu very often, especially not such deadly ones. He realized that even without weapons, these ninja had power far beyond the bandits. To him it was a profound moment where he realized two things. If he killed against all odds killed these men he would feel just as empty as he did in that moment. And that to these masked ninja, his unasailable conflict was their everyday staircase to ascend. Though he had extended family that would care for him, he begged to join the leaf village as a ninja. Wanting to have strength like the Anbu who saved him from himself. After a lengthy process, he found himself at the Konoha Academy. As he walked those grounds, more at peace more than anyone should be after the death of their old life. His life consumed with becoming more capable than any weapon could be. And wishing to continue his imagined legacy he assigned to the Anbu. Invisible benifactors never needing recognition.
(dramatic, but I thought given some of the Naruto back stories why not give it that daytime drama spice)
