Hey before we get started, just wanted to say sorry if I posted this in the wrong area, or horribly botched the formatting, thank you in advance.
Old Character Name: Rengo Makoto
Old Village/Missing: Cloud
OCR Type: Not a clue, I disappeared off the radar about two years ago, looking to get back into the game.
Last Known Where-abouts: Same above, I was looking for a reboot
Old IC Rank: Student I think?
New Character Name: Ogami Itto
Preferred Username: Ogami Itto
New Village: Sunagakure
New BL/CA: N/A
Custom Class: N/A
Main Branch/ANBU/Med-Nin: N/A
IC Rank: N/A
Character Age: 41
Gender: Male
Character's Physical Description: Itto is a shattered wreck of a man, his hands a scarred clubface, hair greasy and unkempt. The year’s have not treated him well, with wrinkled skin and deep bags under his eyes, any trace of the man he used to be has been practically erased. His possessions are the clothes on his back, and the wine-vat he emptied twenty years ago. He's dressed simply, wearing a long-sleeved blouse and hakama trousers, with a coarse zupan used to traveling, handkerchief, and jingasa shielding the neck and jaw from the sun and rain, the baggy clothing tied tight to the body at the calf and forearms. A calf length jinbaori marked with the symbols “老山龍”, is worn over the rest, with a daisho at the waist. The swords are a queer design, the longer blade having a shallower curve than most katana, sporting a longer blade and a pair of quillons alongside a figure of eight guard, as opposed to a tsuba. The shorter blade however, lacks any sort of guard, a simple “S” shaped sabre, designed for use in one hand.
Character's Mental Description: As most people have noticed by now, Itto is as close to a dog as any living man could hope to be. He fawns on those who give him anything, he shouts at those who refuse, and sets his teeth in rascals. Rather than taking offense, he’s taken a shine to the comparison, claiming we’d all do well to study the dog. Besides performing natural body functions in public with ease, a dog will eat anything, and make no fuss about where to sleep. Dogs live in the present without anxiety, and have no use for the pretensions of abstract philosophy. Unlike human beings who either are either deceived or are deceivers, dogs will give an honest bark at the truth. Such is Ogami Itto, the Hound of Sunagakure.
Character History: Itto could've had class. He could’ve been a contender. He could’ve been somebody, instead of a bum, living in an empty wine vat. He was born in a brothel, whores raised him, for all he knows his father could have been the Daimyo himself. While he may lack a formal education, there were a few undeniable benefits to his upbringing, he grew up as sharp as the sword on his hip, and as crooked as the sabre that crosses it. Due process and red tape might have their place, but sometimes it's just an obstacle that needs to be slipped under. Even at the rarefied heights he reached in his heyday, he never forgot where he came from, a good slice of his pay always went back to the people that raised him. With little prospects, outside of strong arming for the local criminal elements, and with an admittedly naive dream to reach for the stars, he set his sights on becoming a Ninja.
Entering the academy at the age of twelve, Itto’s prospects looked bleak at first, showing little aptitude for Gen or Ninjutsu, it was looking like curtains for the young firebrand. Until in a fit of anger during a sparring match, he took his kriegsmesser, a trinket left by a foreign client years ago, and sheared three fingers off a student who had held him in contempt since day one. Turns out he was rather good with those queer old swords. The playing field leveled, he went on to excel at his training, willing to fight dirty, to take cheap shots to the groin and throw sand into his enemy's eye. When he graduated as a Genin, it wasn’t long until he was approached by ANBU.
Not long after he was accepted into their ranks, whispers began to spread. An ANBU wearing a broad jingasa, with an affinity for stray cats and dogs. Treacherous and fast, they said his eyes were made of fire, that his muscles were steel cables, that he could kill three men and sheathe his sword before the first drop of their blood hit the ground. They say he ignored direct orders in order to protect those he deemed innocent, or to hunt down the wicked. Of course, people say a lot of silly things, but for quite some time, people were particularly kind to stray animals, just to be safe. There was a little bit of truth to the rumours of course, he had a rather sour relationship with the chain of command.
Regardless of how good he may have been, his career didn’t last long. Colossus of Pardos, Hatori the Wizened, Badstar, Vector H, every major fight he had, he came out a little worse for ware. Broken nose here, tremors in the right hand, damaged cartilage in his knees. By the time he did battle with the Red Wake, an infamous Missing Nin, he was a sad excuse for an ANBU indeed. After three hours of battle, his spine was shattered into thirty pieces, his right leg was almost torn from its socket hanging from a srip of flesh and nothing else, and his body was broken pathetically in a hundred and forty separate locations. The battle ended after Itto gouged Red’s brains out through his eye sockets. Itto’s thumbs, it turned out, were infinitely more useful than three years of experience or his swords.
His dysfunctional relationship with command was the end of him. He was a broken tool now, not worth the investment it would have taken to repair him, not when there were thirty younger, more loyal Shinobi that would have killed for his post. Outside of making sure he didn’t die on site, he was cut loose, officially disavowed and totally deniable. Crippling alcohol, tobacco, and gambling addictions threw him out of house and home. Now he takes up residence in an empty wine vat, which he had emptied himself over the months. Twenty years later, there he remains, having been spat upon by priests, shinobi, and commoners more times than he can count.
When he was a kid, he reached for the stars.
When he was a shinobi, he reached for the top ranks
Now, he reaches for whatever he can find in a jug, and costs less than 800 yen
Old Character Name: Rengo Makoto
Old Village/Missing: Cloud
OCR Type: Not a clue, I disappeared off the radar about two years ago, looking to get back into the game.
Last Known Where-abouts: Same above, I was looking for a reboot
Old IC Rank: Student I think?
New Character Name: Ogami Itto
Preferred Username: Ogami Itto
New Village: Sunagakure
New BL/CA: N/A
Custom Class: N/A
Main Branch/ANBU/Med-Nin: N/A
IC Rank: N/A
Character Age: 41
Gender: Male
Character's Physical Description: Itto is a shattered wreck of a man, his hands a scarred clubface, hair greasy and unkempt. The year’s have not treated him well, with wrinkled skin and deep bags under his eyes, any trace of the man he used to be has been practically erased. His possessions are the clothes on his back, and the wine-vat he emptied twenty years ago. He's dressed simply, wearing a long-sleeved blouse and hakama trousers, with a coarse zupan used to traveling, handkerchief, and jingasa shielding the neck and jaw from the sun and rain, the baggy clothing tied tight to the body at the calf and forearms. A calf length jinbaori marked with the symbols “老山龍”, is worn over the rest, with a daisho at the waist. The swords are a queer design, the longer blade having a shallower curve than most katana, sporting a longer blade and a pair of quillons alongside a figure of eight guard, as opposed to a tsuba. The shorter blade however, lacks any sort of guard, a simple “S” shaped sabre, designed for use in one hand.
Character's Mental Description: As most people have noticed by now, Itto is as close to a dog as any living man could hope to be. He fawns on those who give him anything, he shouts at those who refuse, and sets his teeth in rascals. Rather than taking offense, he’s taken a shine to the comparison, claiming we’d all do well to study the dog. Besides performing natural body functions in public with ease, a dog will eat anything, and make no fuss about where to sleep. Dogs live in the present without anxiety, and have no use for the pretensions of abstract philosophy. Unlike human beings who either are either deceived or are deceivers, dogs will give an honest bark at the truth. Such is Ogami Itto, the Hound of Sunagakure.
Character History: Itto could've had class. He could’ve been a contender. He could’ve been somebody, instead of a bum, living in an empty wine vat. He was born in a brothel, whores raised him, for all he knows his father could have been the Daimyo himself. While he may lack a formal education, there were a few undeniable benefits to his upbringing, he grew up as sharp as the sword on his hip, and as crooked as the sabre that crosses it. Due process and red tape might have their place, but sometimes it's just an obstacle that needs to be slipped under. Even at the rarefied heights he reached in his heyday, he never forgot where he came from, a good slice of his pay always went back to the people that raised him. With little prospects, outside of strong arming for the local criminal elements, and with an admittedly naive dream to reach for the stars, he set his sights on becoming a Ninja.
Entering the academy at the age of twelve, Itto’s prospects looked bleak at first, showing little aptitude for Gen or Ninjutsu, it was looking like curtains for the young firebrand. Until in a fit of anger during a sparring match, he took his kriegsmesser, a trinket left by a foreign client years ago, and sheared three fingers off a student who had held him in contempt since day one. Turns out he was rather good with those queer old swords. The playing field leveled, he went on to excel at his training, willing to fight dirty, to take cheap shots to the groin and throw sand into his enemy's eye. When he graduated as a Genin, it wasn’t long until he was approached by ANBU.
Not long after he was accepted into their ranks, whispers began to spread. An ANBU wearing a broad jingasa, with an affinity for stray cats and dogs. Treacherous and fast, they said his eyes were made of fire, that his muscles were steel cables, that he could kill three men and sheathe his sword before the first drop of their blood hit the ground. They say he ignored direct orders in order to protect those he deemed innocent, or to hunt down the wicked. Of course, people say a lot of silly things, but for quite some time, people were particularly kind to stray animals, just to be safe. There was a little bit of truth to the rumours of course, he had a rather sour relationship with the chain of command.
Regardless of how good he may have been, his career didn’t last long. Colossus of Pardos, Hatori the Wizened, Badstar, Vector H, every major fight he had, he came out a little worse for ware. Broken nose here, tremors in the right hand, damaged cartilage in his knees. By the time he did battle with the Red Wake, an infamous Missing Nin, he was a sad excuse for an ANBU indeed. After three hours of battle, his spine was shattered into thirty pieces, his right leg was almost torn from its socket hanging from a srip of flesh and nothing else, and his body was broken pathetically in a hundred and forty separate locations. The battle ended after Itto gouged Red’s brains out through his eye sockets. Itto’s thumbs, it turned out, were infinitely more useful than three years of experience or his swords.
His dysfunctional relationship with command was the end of him. He was a broken tool now, not worth the investment it would have taken to repair him, not when there were thirty younger, more loyal Shinobi that would have killed for his post. Outside of making sure he didn’t die on site, he was cut loose, officially disavowed and totally deniable. Crippling alcohol, tobacco, and gambling addictions threw him out of house and home. Now he takes up residence in an empty wine vat, which he had emptied himself over the months. Twenty years later, there he remains, having been spat upon by priests, shinobi, and commoners more times than he can count.
When he was a kid, he reached for the stars.
When he was a shinobi, he reached for the top ranks
Now, he reaches for whatever he can find in a jug, and costs less than 800 yen
