eral ]
Name: Takeru Hiroki
Alias: Â Threadbare
Age: 19
Height: 5'8"
Body Frame: Medium
Gender: Male
Date of Birth: May 7
Blood Type: Â B+
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Gray
Village: Kumogakure
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Rank: S-Rank
Job: ANBU
[ Traits ]
Personality:
Spoiler:
Quiet, Reserved, and Strict
Appearance:
Spoiler:
See Top Image
Biography:
Spoiler:
After escaping from the facility in his home country(See Rev App), and in the attempt to distance himself as far away as possible from the memories there and what he had seen, he traveled. Eventually, at the age of seventeen he made his way to Lightning Country where, once accepted as a resident he joined the military and was sent to Cloud Village under the Kageship of Kagetsu Kiyo. Choosing to join ANBU where he felt his skills could be best applied, he made his way up the ladder from student to AiT to ANBU, with the help of his military training and experience prior to his capture and duration in the facility. And now, two years later, he was finally feeling comfortable.
Consciousness.
A darkness so bleak, he hadn't realized he'd opened his eyes until well after his dreams were over, and his body hurt. An ache that seemed to throb within every layer of his being, a subtle soreness which spread from the tips of his fingers to the backs of his eyes, every joint stiff and swollen, every muscle tense and aching. Lips smacked together dryly, a familiar flavor lurking in his mouth, though he could not yet recall what it was he had eaten, or drank, to have left it. He rolled onto his side and realized his mistake before he could do anything about it; he puked. A thick, viscous vomit rejected by his stomach after hours of paralytic anesthetic forcing his body to accept what had been done to it. Pushing weakly at the ground, tears burning in his eyes as he pushed himself up off the floor one painful inch at a time, he sat up. He sat up, and he cried, sobs stifled only by the pain that wracked his form with every involuntary spasm of his muscles. He wiped his runny nose against his a bicept, and cringed at the feel of his own skin. Thin, the texture of what lay beneath unconsciously recognized and rejected, a sudden revulsion spread through him as he cringed up and dry heaved until a thread of pile fell invisibly onto the floor. His world was pain, darknesss, and fear, an all consuming collection of the things a ninja was trained to resist, a sucker punch thrown at him and still he had yet to remember why. He searched himself countless times, wracked his brain for memories that would not come. How he got here. Where herer was. Why he was here. Whether or not here was even a voluntary place to be or whether he had been imprisoned.
The door opened. His cell revealed in a spill of light, he shut his eyes and cringed, knees drawn up as he pressed his face to crossed arms forgetting the unnatural feel of what lay beneath his skin, unwilling to acknoweledge anything but the simple instinct to protect his face from the new, blinding light until his eyes adjusted. When he'd finally allowed himself time to adjust, peeking at the light until the knee-jerk reaction of shutting his eyes was gone, he saw no one. Whoever had opened the door hadn't stuck around to wait, and so he remained alone. This realization, and the long forlorn look given to the empty space behind the door suddenly became miniscule in comparison to what greeted him when he looked down at himself.
Blood.
Dried crust, copper brown, stained his clothes. A smear on his arm left behind by his runny nose, the pile of fluids left half-congealed where he had purged his stomach thick with the stuff. A smear against the ground where he'd been dragged in, a slap againt the wall, as if with a bloody fist he had beaten the wall in painful writhes. A puddle of half-dried stickiness where he'd finally lay in unconscious slumber, framing where unknown hours of his life had ticked by and his only action was to bleed. A momentary purpose in life.
Blood everywhere.
Suddenly the familiar taste of his mouth, the smell of what he had thought was snot and even the salty taste of his tears as they had dried against his cheeks, an almot insctintive childish reaction causing him to give a probing lick. Suspicions confirmed. Whatever had happened to him, he had bled.
A sudden chill filled him as he realized just how much blood he had lost, a shiver at the guess of time which had passed to have gotten it all back. He didn't have time to marvel that he was alive. With the darkness fled, so did his fear, and he forced himself to get back into control as he came to an aching stand. He stumbled before he could, falling back against the wall and just barely managing to stay upright. Using the wall for support he stood, a glance at his arms showing slices so neat they could only have been surgical, the pattern arrayed againts the length of his arms almost as if he had been flayed open and put back together, only there were no stiches holding the blood encrusted wounds closed. None of that was important now, nor the fact that his muscles weren't moving right. Survival instinct kicking in, the fact that he could move was enough.
Taking a few, careful steps, he moved. As if learning how to walk again, he took step after akward step until he reached the thick, ironbound door. And thats when it moved. The sudden, though small, shift made by the door startled him. As if acknoweledging his existence by the touch of the door, lights turned on in his four walled, windowless room. Nothing but the marks he'd left, the door, and his imagination stood out against the white paint of the floor, walls, and ceiling. If he stared long enough, he could almost see himself, as if his memory were visual rather than experienced, thrashing against the wall in mindless pain... The doors shift broke him from his trance-like reverie, and he remembered why he'd walked this far in the first place despite the pain of even breathing at this point.
To live.
The ultimate goal, and the door seemed to want otherwise. It began to shut with enthusiasm, and he gripped the edge first in one hand, then with both in an attempt to halt or slow it long enough to slip through. The harder he tried, the harder the door fought back. It slowed, but not enough. Not enough momentum lost for him to lessen his own, oppositional force to slide through. He leaned back, away from the door, adding the weight of his body in addition to the force of his arms, one foot brought up to press against the wall. With clenched, grinding teeth, one thought dominated his mental state.
He could not let the door close. He would not.
Past the point of pain, past the breaking point of what should have, by now, been pulled muscles or popped joints, he strained with eyes shut against the ever-slowly closing door. After what felt like a pain-flooded eternity, the door finally stopped. The force remained, but he'd seemed to, finally, achieved an equal counter-balance to the doors mechanical strength. He took a moment to simply breathe, eyes opened as he looked at the door.
And screamed.
The door was inches from being closed, a crack so small he'd not have been able to slip his arms through. He had not moved, his feet positioned where he'd left them, his stance away from the door unbudged. And still he screamed, for as he stared down at his arms, as he felt the pain flooding through them so rich he as almost unconscious, he didn't recognize them. They stretched a good foot longer than they should have been, the skin of his arms peeled apart away from those aforementioned seams, blood coated thickness of bundles upon bundled bundles of black, blood and grime coated thread replaced what should have been dislocated joined, stretched and torn muscle and sinew. Remnant of what had been were recognizeable amongst what was there now, trash tissue left behind already assimilated by the bundles, which even now spawned tiny, probing tendrils bursting from what was left of the tissue to join the motherload of theads already a part of his 'system'.
He released the doors from fingers almost flat in their state of stretched resistance, his bloodcaked arms oddly lacking any fresh blood from te more than open wounds created by his struggle, as if the strands of string generated from his own internal tissue took the place of both organs, muscles, internal tissue and even veins. His arms returned to their previous state, and unless closely examined would simply stand out as not looking quite right, as if the memory of what his body had been was emulated as accurately as possible by those threads.
Fallen on the floor and spread eagle, as if he were trying to reject that which now made him up, he screamed. He fell into unconsciousness after a time, dragged into a world of shapeless black, sinking in the well of his own despair.
And still, he screamed.
Consciousness.
Once again, pain-blurred vision cleared slowly to reveal that all too familiar room. There were some new additions, puddles of blood left over from fetal spasms as his body continued its new twisted evolution. Large smears where he'd slammed himself for hours on end against the walls in an attempt to get someone, anyone's attention, throat shredded and bloody from the ferocity of his screams. And always, when that door would open only to shut before he could leave, there would be no one. No silhouette, no sound. Hell, there weren't even any new smells that wafted into the room. Just the same, stale air. The same, unexplained event that, the first two times, he had, quite literally pulled himself apart trying to prevent. The closer he came to the door, the faster it would shut. The harder he would struggle, the further from his body his limbs were slowly pulled, layers of flesh peeled back like a uniform sunburn. New scars created where old ones remained, a pattern which seemed to have some sort of uniformity, a constant point of break and rebreak.
And it was becoming common. He was getting used to it. Used to the pattern. Used to the routine of pain and blood, blood and pain. The coppery taste burnt against his tongue as an ever presence backround flavor to whatever he ate.
And he did eat.
More often than not he came to only to find a plate of food, or plates of food, before him. Never a table. Never utensils. Subject to the barest courtesy of sustenence.
And then it all changed.
They fucked it all up. The regularity. The uniformity. The almost peace he found in what had become his entire, twelve by twelve toiletless world. Wiping the drool from his mouth, he came to a stand and began to walk towards the door.
The door stayed open.
What he thought of as his heart, what should have been his heart, began to thump heavily within his head. Faster and faster, fingers suddenly covered in sweat as they shook with the slightest trepidation.
And the door stayed open.
Before he knew it, he was out.
Well. Not quite out. But out of that room. Out of that self contained hell. A shudder ran through his spine as a short, brief sense of elation overcame him. He was almost free.
Ready to cry, he began to walk, and actually walk, versus the slow, nervous shuffle he had become so accustomed to as he tried so hard to get nearer that door without it shutting. Down the tunnel, feet making little sticking noises as the moisture of his skin stuck for just a moment to the sanitized tile surface. He didn't know where he was going, and the walls throughout were unmarked but for a single band of black which he followed along the wall to his right. Eventually, he found a door, and with shakey hands, pushed himself free of the prison which had been but a vessel for the prison they had stuck him in; the complex without was massive. And burning.
What could only be descibed as other wings of the building, peppered by doors much like the one he had just pushed through, were topped by billowing clouds of a thick, almost oily smoke. The sound of what could only be a raging inferno hidden by walls still standing from the side he stood. What struck him, though, was that in his windswept little corner of the complex - the air mercifully blew the smoke and what would only be smells of burnt inhabitants(he wasn't the only one, right?) away in a cool breeze - everything seemed.. clean. Almost creepy. The walkway before him neatly swept, the walls of the building looking almost as if they had been painted but yesterday, guardposts where no damage was evident yet, clearly, something had happened. His eyes followed the road which past the guard post, and he realized with what could only be an epiphany of freedom, were such a thing to exist, that he really, truly could be free.
And there wasn't another living soul he could see there to stop him.
So.
One step at a time, he walked. Past the sidewalk so neatly swpt, bare feet at first uncomfortable to the now nearly alien feel of rough, hard-packed pathway gravel, past the guardpost so wholly empty, and into the valley beyond with naught but the clothes upon his back. And then, just a few hundreds yards after the first short, rolling hill which lay just outside the walls of the facility, he found someone.
More like, he stumbled upon them. And god, he wished he hadn't. If not for his own experience with his 'transformation', he would have been broken by the sight of what could only be another inmate, another test subject standing before the body of what might have, at once, been a guard, but now simply consisted of a chest which looked to be blown outward from within, half of a skull hanging loose against a shoulder, lower torso ending abruptly at the intestine.
But back to the test subject.
Standing at what should have been roughly five feet, the subject had expanded, for lack of a saner term. Arms spread in almost alien glee, fingers unrecognizeable as anything but hundreds of tendrils spread in what, condensed, would actually resemble the proper appendages, vibrating against the air as if tuning itself to the world around it. The head of the subject, lifted nearly three feet higher than the shoulders by a neck thick with corded thread that closely resemlbed an almost liquid-like muscle, a solid throbbing mass which bled black glop onto the still-human collarbone and shoulders. A look of twisted exstacy upon the face of the still human head held aloft.
Unable to tear his gaze away at what another person had become, at what he could have become, he watched as the torn shirt still draped over the subjects' chest was torn further at the right breast as a fist of thread - fist being the only way to describe the reaching, bundled mass of nature-perverting organic thread as it writhed like an awakening snake from the mans ribcage - descended upon the blown-out chest of the poor, dead guard. Gingerly, it slid between the organic mess of what could have been a lung, prying it away as the thread found its mark; the heart of the corpse, which was wrenched from the cadaver with a sickening squalch of blood, meat and bone all torn asunder in such a violent manner.
That dead heart, pulled back into the body of the twisted experiment that had spawned its captor-fist.
Well.
Fuck that.
He ran.
[ Chigokai ]
Spoiler:
[ Statistics ]
HP: 42,000
CP: 42,000
Agility: 600
Stamina: 600
Ninjutsu: 600
Taijutsu: 600
Genjutsu: 554
Chakra Control: 600
Power Level: Â 3554
Bloodline Control: 294%
Capped Points: 0
CP Spent: 0
[ Armsword Mk.1 ]
Armsword Mk. 1
HP: 50+lvl
CP: 50+lvl
Class Feature: Kinjutsu Option
High: Ranged Accuracy
Average: Evasion, Genjutsu Save, Ninjutsu Accuracy
Low: Genjutsu Difficulty, Melee Accuracy
[ Character Level ]
Spoiler:
1. 1-56 (56 from last level)
2. 57-126 (69)
3. 127-208 (82)
4. 209-304 (95)
5. 305-412 (108)
6. 413-534 (121)
7. 535-668 (134)
8. 669-816 (147)
9. 817-976 (160)
10. 977-1150 (173)
11. 1151-1336 (186)
12. 1337-1536 (199)
13. 1537-1748 (212)
14. 1749-1974 (225)
15. 1975-2212 (238)
16. 2213-2464 (251)
17. 2465-2728 (264)
18. 2729-3006 (277)
19. 3007-3296 (290)
20. 3297-3600 (313)
[ Revenant ]
Spoiler:
[ Normal Equipment ]
Spoiler:
Slot 1 >>> Chaos Katana
Slot 2 >>> Kawarimi Target
Slot 3 >>>
Slot 4 >>>
Slot 5 >>>
[ Weapon Stats ]
Spoiler:
Chaos Katana
Type: Sword (Slashing, Piercing)
Weight: Medium
Range: Melee
Damage: 250
Accuracy: +0
Special 1: This weapon has 1 Poison Slot which may be used to hold poison prior to battle, however may only take effect three times.
Special 2: +15% Bleed Chance.
Augments:
Tri-Blade - -2 Accuracy, +10% Bleed Chance, +10% Bleeding Damage. +5% Damage.
Jagged - +10% Bleeding Damage.
Water Composition - - Counts as water in terms of receiving elemental buffs.
</tb>
TAIJUTSU
Weapon
Spoiler:
Level 1
Stab Rank 2
Level 2
Strength Slash Rank 2
Level 3
Cross Slash Rank 2
Impale Mastered
Level 4
Power Lunge Rank 2
Feint Slash Mastered
Level 5
Ascending the Tower Rank 2
Piercing Rain Mastered
Level 6
Descending the Tower Rank 2
Hi-Lo Strike Mastered
Level 7
Spin Attack Mastered
Iaijutsu Mastered
Level 8
Higuma Mastered
Unarmed
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Buff
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
GENJUTSU
Will
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Kinetic
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Audial
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Visual
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Spoiler:
Six Here
Level 7
Spoiler:
Seven Here
Level 8
Spoiler:
Eight Here
NINJUTSU
Fire
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Water
Spoiler:
Level 1
Douse Mastered
Splash Mastered
Level 2
Level 3
Water Prison Mastered
Aqua Fang Mastered
Level 4
Hidden Mist Rank 2
Aqua Twin Fang Mastered
Level 5
Grand Waterfall Mastered
Level 6
Rain Dance Rank 2
Water Shark Bomb Mastered
Level 7
Mystical Pond Mastered
Hydro Tidal Shockwave Mastered
Level 8
Grand Hydra Excavation Mastered
Scorn of Aquarius Mastered
Sand
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Wind
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Lightning
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Sound
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Ice
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Earth
Spoiler:
Level 1
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Non-Elemental
Spoiler:
Level 1
Body Switch Mastered
Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
Cancel Mastered
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
Medical
Spoiler:
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
ANBU
Spoiler:
Level 5
Level 6
Level 7
Level 8
[ Custom Jutsus ]
Spoiler:
[ Abilities ]
Spoiler:
Liquid Style
Razor Edge
Water Channeling
Bulls Strength
Insight
Martial Artist
Strategist
[ Classes & Missions ]
Spoiler:
[ Missions/Battles ]
Missions Completed: 0
Missions Passed: 0
Missions Failed: 0
S: 0
A: 0
B: 0
C: 0
D: 0
E: 0
Battles Completed: 0
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
Opponents:
[ Training ]
Spoiler:
Training Here
Relationships
- Acquaintance
- Friend
- Good Friend
- Best Friends; Crush
- Family; Deep Crush (Close to love)
- Full Blown Love
-----
- Here
- Here
- Here
- Here
- Here
- Here
