Duty, Loyalty, Honor
Name: Takahashi, TakeshiAge: 15
Gender: Male
Sex: Male
Rank: Academy Student
Physical Description:
"We sleep safely in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence upon those who would do us harm."
Takeshi is a walking mass of oddities all thanks to the foreign blood that runs through his veins. Not as fair as the rest of the village folk, his skin is ruddier, more prone to blemishes, spots and wrinkles and as a result he appears older than his peers, even more so when the patches of soft fuzz begin to grow from his chin. Not quite the beard of a man, but enough to make him fiercely proud of his maturity all the same. It sprinkles itself across a thick square jaw and around a pair of pouty lips before tucking itself under his chin and hanging in a short scraggly mess. From his head sprout limp curls of dark ash brown that tumble around his ears, often tied back to keep them out of the way though left loose during hours of recreation. A heavy brow, large doe-like eyes, and thick eyebrows give him an expression of constant concern, though his pupils, ringed by brown with flecks of honey, often glaze over when he doesn't occupy himself with work or activity, and he retreats into himself in much the same way in times of duress. Smiling is unnatural for the boy, though it comes easy enough when the correct strings are plucked on the social harp, instead he defaults to a sullen frown and changes his facial expression but little, most of his physical articulation coming from his eyes and eyebrows.
Tall, and thick of limb and torso, Takeshi was built for survival, both in and out of combat. Course thick skin keeps him shielded from the elements, honed through hours of exposure and training, while the beginnings of thick black hair begin to sprout on arms, legs, and chest. Scars here and there tell of accidents suffered during training, wounds endured in fights, or mishaps weathered on missions, though none serious enough to stand out as exceptional for a ninja.
Despite leading his classmates by roughly two years Takeshi looks no less the child, though he prefers to think of himself as mature. Wearing black leathers and furs to keep himself warm, high thick boots and long woolen gloves, unintentionally bundling himself up like a baby bear in the off-time. On duty (Sometimes even beneath the furs and leather for ease of access) his uniform follows the standards; sandals and tight fitting clothing to allow for ease of movement, little noise, and less chance of being snagged. The protective headband (Once he earns it) is tied over his left shoulder and under his right arm, like a sash, so that the symbol of his village is prominently displayed against his heart.
Depending on the nature of his mission Takeshi owns pieces of armor: simple pauldrens, gauntlets, and greaves of light and unobtrusive, yet foreign, design made of polished steel for when violence is expected and unavoidable. In addition to this is a longsword, still too large for him to wield effectively at his current age, but heavy and well suited for vicious close quarters combat. A double fuller widens the sword at it's base, closest to the unadorned and simple hilt, but slowly converge until they meet at the tip. Takeshi's upkeep of this weapon is almost religious, using oils and stones to keep it polished and honed at all times.
Personality Description:
"Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word."
A reserved and stalwart young man Takeshi is entirely devoted to the ideals and progression of the Cloud Village, with nothing else in his life really taking priority. Shunned for his dubious genetics, queer mannerisms, and lack of common ground with the younger members of his class, the teachings of the academy are all he really has to give himself purpose. From that has resulted a near fanatical obsession with upholding it's laws and customs and following any and all commands issued to him. Duty above all else is paramount. Far from a lone wolf, however, he has a voice and uses it often to approach those in need, though admittedly with gruff tactlessness. He means well, but his social skills (or lack thereof) have made him a straightforward young man, piercing right to the heart of the issue rather than dancing around it for fear of a clash. Often this approach to people paints him as callous, rude, and lacking empathy, when the truth is that he simply wants to find a solution to the problem as quickly as possible.
When this cold layer of snow is wiped away however Takeshi could bring himself to be warm towards others, protective even of those that would take the time to see beyond his differences and befriend him. Though doing so would be no easy task. While eager to jump into situations where he feels he is needed he maintains a chilly distance, only letting his metaphorical shield down inch by inch until he's ready to open up. When comfortable his dedication to the Cloud Village bleeds into his friendships, until it becomes difficult to gauge which he values more. Loyalty is vital in times of strife, it keeps the group together, strong, whole.
As a young man however Takeshi is not without his follies, seeking to do justice to the greatness of his village and earn a name for himself as one of it's greatest protectors, the private fantasy of a child. He hungers for glory, always eager to prove himself, greedy for recognition. He stops short of underhanded tactics, choosing to struggle fairly and earn his reputation in the purest way possible. Honor is the bread and butter of any man, it keeps him strong, makes him mighty, makes him admirable.
For all of this he is sensitive, aware of what makes him different, and angry. Secretly harboring disdain for his parents who gave him away so readily, for the other children for not accepting him as he was. Angry at the fact that he can't understand why. This anger simmers beneath the ice and bursts only when certain buttons are pushed, buttons labelled "Family." and "Outcast." and "Pride." to name a few.
In short, Takeshi is your typical moody teenager.
Kumo:
“If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. ”
An akita puppy that bounds around in the shadow of it's master, given to Takeshi shortly before he himself was given to the academy. Over the years the tiny little black and white bear cub of a dog has grown into something much more impressive, nearly half the size of Takeshi himself while standing. The two are inseparable, to the point that they sleep in the same bed and often eat from the same bowl. Unlike his master Kumo is friendlier, approaching strangers with a great amount of affection, possibly to make up for the lack of such from Takeshi. In almost all things they are polar opposites, Kumo a rambunctious dog who loves to rough-house and play and isn't quite finished being a puppy yet, while Takeshi is a stony young man, ready to be the adult he knows he's supposed to be, but not quite hitting the mark all of the time. This doesn't hamper their relationship in any way, in fact each of them seems to appreciate the other for making up for what they lack.
History:
“You wear your honor like a suit of armor... You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move.”
Neither parent was a native of the Lightning lands, a foreign father and a mother that had wandered from the Fire country and settled with him near the Cloud village. Unbeknownst to Takeshi his occupation as a ninja was negotiated before he was born, as payment for his mother and father settling in lands they weren't born in. His life and freedom, for their stability and prosperity. Because of this he was trained from an early age by his father, who had been his own sort of ninja in his faraway home, wearing clothes of steel from head to toe and wielding huge blades of heavy metal from behind giant shields. Conditioned to protect both himself and others, Takeshi's personality began to develop alongside his training as that of a boy who wanted to keep both himself and the things he valued safe. Slow, sure footed, powerful, stalwart. Coupled with rigorous physical exercises were the teachings of what had been described to him as a code of conduct. His father claimed to live by this code and every action he made was somehow in reverence of it; Duty, Loyalty, Honor. Those three words were snatched up by the small boy with a stick-sword in his fist, clutched tightly and respected as a family heirloom might be respected. His father was passing this knowledge to him, and Takeshi was going to make him proud by living up to his fathers expectations and making sure his every action also spawned from this code.
At the age of eleven they took him. Overripe compared to the children they usually claimed, but Takeshi's worth was in the training he had that other children didn't. He was different, and being different could mean everything in the heat of battle. One surprise, one unexpected maneuver was all it took to win. Takeshi was that move. More of an experiment, really, but one that came with little risk. At worst one child would be lost among the dozens of other children that failed to survive the academy. The boy went with the strangers all but happily, dragging a longsword three times his size in one hand and clutching the puppy that had been his mothers one and only contribution to his training in the other. The dog, Kumo, was sold to him as a way to remind him of home, to de-stress, to have a companion. In truth it was just another part of the weapon he was being molded into.
Seclusion waited for him at the academy and greeted him with greedy open arms. He was older than the other children, spoke differently, looked different, acted different. Kumo didn't help. They could tell there was none of the Lightning lands within him simply by how deep the connection between he and his dog went. Were it just age that separated him from his peers he might have been able to integrate into the fold, but all the little things piled up into a wall that he couldn't penetrate, and eventually he lost the will to try. He took classes with the other kids, trained with them, ate with them, slept in the same dorms, but he never once connected with them, at least no more than was required of him. Cold pleasantries were exchanged over meals, icy courtesy when comparing notes, freezing feedback while training. Over the years the distance turned him to ice, the indoctrination of the Cloud Village and his fathers code were all he had, and eventually they began to blend into one another. The code was the law of the Cloud Village, his father was not just the man that he had left behind but the organization that told him which classes to attend, where to train, how to train, when to sleep and eat. He was becoming exactly what the academy had wanted; another soldier for the ranks.
