Let me know if anything else is required, and some advice on what to do next would be very helpful.
Name: Nozomi
Age: 11
Bloodline: Toujigikou
Clan: The Ryuu Clan, possibly? I wasn’t sure how to go about applying but it seemed to be the best fit for me if any at all. I read the bit about Adoption being notable for them and the whole brilliant but on the edge is very much Nozomi. If I’m not allowed, then that’s okay.
Physical Description:
Nozomi is small even for her age, she has a wiry frame built for speed not strength. Pale doll-like skin contrasts with her dark blonde hair. It is unkempt and typically pulled into a messy side ponytail giving off the appearance she tried to comb it but gave up. Her eyes are dark blue and structurally make it seem as if she is always watching with a narrowed glance. Her face would likely be rare amongst people here as she was born with high cheekbones, a curved nose, and thin brows. She can typically be found with a half-smile on her face that can be as concerning as it is welcoming. The most notable thing about her though are the strange mouths nestled within the palm of each of her hands. She typically keeps them hidden beneath fingerless gloves to avoid strange glances from civilians. The rest of her clothing is equally practical; a high-collared sleeveless vest, loose combat pants, and a utility belt of sorts with scrolls and clay capsules. Though she does customize her look a bit with little things like scratched-in patterns, odd straps, and little charms that she has made over time.
Mental Description:
A contradiction in motion; Nozomi is a brilliant, charismatic, and deeply strange girl. She speaks with precision for her age and crafts each sentence like a sculpture before it reaches her tongue. She has the mannerisms of someone rehearsing for a play, except that it is a constant show which never ends. Even when she is alone the show does not stop as she hums to herself a constant mechanical melody. Her mind is razor sharp but beneath the brilliance churns an overwhelming obsession with performance. Her greatest fascination is with the ultimate beauty of self-expression through destruction. Some might even say it borders on mania. The truth isn’t so simple. Nozomi embodies that thin line between genius and madness, willing to walk it barefoot as if it were a tightrope. She is clever enough to be charming and has learned to feign innocence when it best suits her desired outcomes. However, if you were to ask about her favorite thing in this world then she may speak to you about creating a bomb from its birth to the final explosion in the same way an author may speak to you about writing a novel. To sum it up, Nozomi is a prodigy of carnage and a poet of destruction.
History:
Nozomi was not born into a Hidden Village. Her first memories are not of jutsu or training fields, but of rice patties and clay-stained hands. A village that moved with rhythm to slow songs sung while shaping sculptures meant to last for centuries. The village was a reclusive settlement of pacifistic Toujigikou artists who believed the mouths within their palms were a gift from God. A way to shape perfection into this world in a truly intimate way that no-one else could understand.
Unfortunately, Nozomi was born a bit different from most of the others in this village and quickly began to express the signs of an undesirable. An undesirable could be banished from the village and likely left to death. Elders first took notice when she was a toddler that her toy creations would hum or twitch even without chakra. Even then, the creations coming alive to perform brought little Nozomi joy.
Just after her eighth birthday there was a grand festival. Villagers would come together to tackle huge construction projects and show off their completed work once every five years. Nozomi’s parents had been constructing a great granary that they were unveiling at this year’s festival. She had been told to stay away from it but wanted to prove she could help. She crept out during the night and made her own additions: small wings on the sides of the building to help it fly, coiled snakes around the base for protection, and hidden moths tucked into every crevice she could manage before she was exhausted.
Her parents and some others had even gathered first thing in the morning to bask in the completion of the project. As the sun beamed overhead warming the Granary, a flurry of moths burst forth from the structure as snakes coiled up the walls and then…BAM!
It was rubble.
Nozomi stood by wide-eyed and frozen. Not in fear, but in awe of the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life. She smiled at how it all moved, but the others just saw her smiling at the carnage. A child had been injured and one of the village elders nearly died. This was an unforgivable thing, so the conclusion met expectation. The village stripped her name away and banished her from their community of peace.
She wandered alone for days with barely any food or water. At least she had her friends, three twitching clay birds that fluttered along with her as she marched towards certain death. They are truly what kept her sane as she would sing to them and laugh with them. They became the audience for her shows. Though shows were not enough, and she would have likely died if she was not found soon after. A scout patrol from Kumogakure found her surrounded by her handmade clay birds which twitched as she slept. They were cautious at first but when a ranking Jounin spoke up to bring her in, the others did not speak against it. He saw fear, loneliness, and most importantly, talent.
She was brought to the village, given a name, and a home. He called her Nozomi because he believed there was Hope for her still. Here, she was allowed to attend classes with teachers who did not flinch when her birds exploded. They gave her places to practice without destroying meaningful objects and for the first time, her art was not forbidden. She had found a place that gave her permission to find purpose. Yet still, there are times when she misses her old village and would build small statues to keep beside her bed, ones that don’t detonate.
Name: Nozomi
Age: 11
Bloodline: Toujigikou
Clan: The Ryuu Clan, possibly? I wasn’t sure how to go about applying but it seemed to be the best fit for me if any at all. I read the bit about Adoption being notable for them and the whole brilliant but on the edge is very much Nozomi. If I’m not allowed, then that’s okay.
Physical Description:
Nozomi is small even for her age, she has a wiry frame built for speed not strength. Pale doll-like skin contrasts with her dark blonde hair. It is unkempt and typically pulled into a messy side ponytail giving off the appearance she tried to comb it but gave up. Her eyes are dark blue and structurally make it seem as if she is always watching with a narrowed glance. Her face would likely be rare amongst people here as she was born with high cheekbones, a curved nose, and thin brows. She can typically be found with a half-smile on her face that can be as concerning as it is welcoming. The most notable thing about her though are the strange mouths nestled within the palm of each of her hands. She typically keeps them hidden beneath fingerless gloves to avoid strange glances from civilians. The rest of her clothing is equally practical; a high-collared sleeveless vest, loose combat pants, and a utility belt of sorts with scrolls and clay capsules. Though she does customize her look a bit with little things like scratched-in patterns, odd straps, and little charms that she has made over time.
Mental Description:
A contradiction in motion; Nozomi is a brilliant, charismatic, and deeply strange girl. She speaks with precision for her age and crafts each sentence like a sculpture before it reaches her tongue. She has the mannerisms of someone rehearsing for a play, except that it is a constant show which never ends. Even when she is alone the show does not stop as she hums to herself a constant mechanical melody. Her mind is razor sharp but beneath the brilliance churns an overwhelming obsession with performance. Her greatest fascination is with the ultimate beauty of self-expression through destruction. Some might even say it borders on mania. The truth isn’t so simple. Nozomi embodies that thin line between genius and madness, willing to walk it barefoot as if it were a tightrope. She is clever enough to be charming and has learned to feign innocence when it best suits her desired outcomes. However, if you were to ask about her favorite thing in this world then she may speak to you about creating a bomb from its birth to the final explosion in the same way an author may speak to you about writing a novel. To sum it up, Nozomi is a prodigy of carnage and a poet of destruction.
History:
Nozomi was not born into a Hidden Village. Her first memories are not of jutsu or training fields, but of rice patties and clay-stained hands. A village that moved with rhythm to slow songs sung while shaping sculptures meant to last for centuries. The village was a reclusive settlement of pacifistic Toujigikou artists who believed the mouths within their palms were a gift from God. A way to shape perfection into this world in a truly intimate way that no-one else could understand.
Unfortunately, Nozomi was born a bit different from most of the others in this village and quickly began to express the signs of an undesirable. An undesirable could be banished from the village and likely left to death. Elders first took notice when she was a toddler that her toy creations would hum or twitch even without chakra. Even then, the creations coming alive to perform brought little Nozomi joy.
Just after her eighth birthday there was a grand festival. Villagers would come together to tackle huge construction projects and show off their completed work once every five years. Nozomi’s parents had been constructing a great granary that they were unveiling at this year’s festival. She had been told to stay away from it but wanted to prove she could help. She crept out during the night and made her own additions: small wings on the sides of the building to help it fly, coiled snakes around the base for protection, and hidden moths tucked into every crevice she could manage before she was exhausted.
Her parents and some others had even gathered first thing in the morning to bask in the completion of the project. As the sun beamed overhead warming the Granary, a flurry of moths burst forth from the structure as snakes coiled up the walls and then…BAM!
It was rubble.
Nozomi stood by wide-eyed and frozen. Not in fear, but in awe of the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life. She smiled at how it all moved, but the others just saw her smiling at the carnage. A child had been injured and one of the village elders nearly died. This was an unforgivable thing, so the conclusion met expectation. The village stripped her name away and banished her from their community of peace.
She wandered alone for days with barely any food or water. At least she had her friends, three twitching clay birds that fluttered along with her as she marched towards certain death. They are truly what kept her sane as she would sing to them and laugh with them. They became the audience for her shows. Though shows were not enough, and she would have likely died if she was not found soon after. A scout patrol from Kumogakure found her surrounded by her handmade clay birds which twitched as she slept. They were cautious at first but when a ranking Jounin spoke up to bring her in, the others did not speak against it. He saw fear, loneliness, and most importantly, talent.
She was brought to the village, given a name, and a home. He called her Nozomi because he believed there was Hope for her still. Here, she was allowed to attend classes with teachers who did not flinch when her birds exploded. They gave her places to practice without destroying meaningful objects and for the first time, her art was not forbidden. She had found a place that gave her permission to find purpose. Yet still, there are times when she misses her old village and would build small statues to keep beside her bed, ones that don’t detonate.
