Name:
Tomomi Chijimatsu
In Character Rank:
Chuunin
Age:
17 (1/29/19)
Gender:
Female
Tomomi Chijimatsu
In Character Rank:
Chuunin
Age:
17 (1/29/19)
Gender:
Female
Physical Description:
Personality:
History:
Bloodline/Core Ability: Opportunist
Kinjutsu: Jashinism</I>
Chijimatsu stands somewhere around 5’9”, though in the heels she constantly wears she stands at 5’11”. The young woman wears a simple sweater that hangs from her shoulders and covers more than half of her thighs. Her bottoms are made of a simple breathable material, similar to that that most shinobi wear. She carries herself with confidence but it must not be mistaken for arrogance. Her eyes constantly shift, showing that her mind is elsewhere most of the time and her disinterest rests upon every individual who stands before her. White hair travels down her back, though hugs her head snugly in the way it’s been cut for most of her life. Most of the time, small bags line the underside of her thin eyes, which are an abruptly pale blue. Chijimatsu’s nose is small and upturned just slightly, adding to her already arrogant-seeming appearance. She will often be staring into the distance, and most of the time she wouldn’t respond to someone who unexpectedly approaches her. A large axe is often tied around her body, looking menacing but extraordinarily clean.
Personality:
With a great amount of internal thought, Chijimatsu often has conversations with herself. These conversations often concern deliberations and reasoning that pertain to her everyday life and the choices she has to make. Chijimatsu is by no stretch of the word insane, just often lost in thought and a bit spacey. Her ideals reside within the same realm of nearly every person that is considered normal, and she does not hate the structure that is the shinobi world, she only thinks that it does not necessarily suit her. The Kage are not her enemy and she does not wish to be theirs, knowing what the world’s most powerful shinobi may have to offer. Holding a conversation would be considered easy for her, though initiating one is not her strong suit. The values that run through the mind of Chijimatsu are respect, strength, and even honor. Her honor isn’t easily obtained however, and only those that she believes are strong in heart, will, and combat can fit the bill that is Chijimatsu’s approval.
History:
Born in the Iwagakure, Chijimatsu did not necessarily have an easy childhood. She spent her time alone, and tried her hardest to go unnoticed. Most of the time she did, though growing up with the abilities of a shinobi made her agenda a bit more difficult than she thought. Somewhat uninterested in the ways of a shinobi, at around the age of eleven Chijimatsu took her training into her own hands, never really joining up in the ranks of the Earth Country’s shinobi forces. Without parents to push her into the academy, she never learned much ninjutsu and no genjutsu whatsoever. Training alone was never necessarily fun, though Chijimatsu knew that she had to protect herself by any means necessary in this constantly changing and occasionally warring world.
One could say that Chijimatsu was complacent in the world of shinobi, while she was spending all of her time training and honing her skills, academy students across the world were learning nearly the same things as she and maybe even at the same pace. What Chijimatsu never learned was how to be apart of a team or how to form connections with those around her. This pushed her even harder, assuming that without the weakness of relationships on her conscience would make her stronger, more willing to do a job when it needed done and without hesitation. This loneliness guided her down paths less travelled and without much recognition, down the darker paths of life. According to Chijimatsu, everything she’s done in her life is perfectly normal, though according to those who may know her secrets she’s travelled down those paths not chosen very often by those of her age who’ve attended an academy.
Now she finds herself seeking the warm embrace of other people, the Kumogakure her destination. The way Chijimatsu sees it, the further from the Earth she can get is to the clouds, that being really her own sound reasoning to make the trek there with just a few belonging, including a thick steel pole axe which is decorated with various beads and charms, including a tag that hangs off of the end which reads “血液”.
One could say that Chijimatsu was complacent in the world of shinobi, while she was spending all of her time training and honing her skills, academy students across the world were learning nearly the same things as she and maybe even at the same pace. What Chijimatsu never learned was how to be apart of a team or how to form connections with those around her. This pushed her even harder, assuming that without the weakness of relationships on her conscience would make her stronger, more willing to do a job when it needed done and without hesitation. This loneliness guided her down paths less travelled and without much recognition, down the darker paths of life. According to Chijimatsu, everything she’s done in her life is perfectly normal, though according to those who may know her secrets she’s travelled down those paths not chosen very often by those of her age who’ve attended an academy.
Now she finds herself seeking the warm embrace of other people, the Kumogakure her destination. The way Chijimatsu sees it, the further from the Earth she can get is to the clouds, that being really her own sound reasoning to make the trek there with just a few belonging, including a thick steel pole axe which is decorated with various beads and charms, including a tag that hangs off of the end which reads “血液”.
Bloodline/Core Ability: Opportunist
Chijimatsu, with the personality that she has often only has herself to rely on. She does not expect a team member to come running, nor does she think that a shinobi will appear out of think air to come to her rescue in a time of need. This being said, she's spent most of her childhood in the outskirts of the Iwagakure, training herself in every situation that she thinks could be possible. This however is difficult, with no one to throw attacks at her she can't prepare for every situation properly.
Knowing that the academy students and genin that usually trained in the forest would laugh in her face if she approached them, she began to follow and watch them. Chijimatsu had to make herself near invisible, to not just hide herself from line of sight but also from the shinobi that would be able to sense her very presence. It was only so long before this practice wasn't enough for her, her body growing restless as she watched them fight, learn from each other, and even critique each other. Chijimatsu began to strike, randomly targeting those students who stood off to the side watching their team members spar. Her strikes had to be quick and she had to further hone her accuracy when attacking from the shadows. Her plan was not to kill these students, just plant moves on them that would render them unable to attack back or follow her back to her hiding places. Many times, the student or genin she decided to attack was the strongest of the three, and sometimes that shinobi standing to the sidelines turned out to be of Chuunin rank.
Around the time that Chijimatsu was twelve years old, she had been watching a small group of shinobi and she had noticed each one of their signature jutsu, her plan this time was not to single out just one shinobi, but to immobilize all three. Two of the shinobi were sparring, a situation that she was used to watching. The third stood by and called out to his friends about how they could do better, and even when they should use particular jutsu. He never saw Chijimatsu coming, and with a swift kick to the back of his head, she dropped him in plain sight of his team, where they stopped their training and eyed the girl that had been randomly attacking teams in this particular area for weeks now. Determined to stop her and drag her back to their team leader, each of them threw the best ninjutsu they had and without any to return, Chijimatsu ran through the attacks, her body feeling the damage, but her mind set on dealing with them. The two reeled as she pounced towards them, one even stumbling as she turned to run in fear. That was her first target, and while Chijimatsu could not see nor sense the girl's chakra network, she had once seen a photo of how most run and hoped that her memory was correct. Her fist was aimed at the girl's chest, just before her neck where she remembered an intersection of chakra pathways, hoping to stop the flow of chakra so that she could turn her attention to the other young shinobi, who was already forming the signs for fireball between the both of his hands. Chijimatsu's eyes scanned the boy, his own eyes focused on molding the perfect amount of chakra into his hands. She hopes to rely on her kicking ability once again, her long leg swinging to literally kick the hands forming the signs. Midway through the kick she had already planned her next move, her leg falling back to the ground at the same time that she used it to move her body to the side of the boy, a hand reaching out for his neck before he could cry out for help. Once her hand made contact, she moves again, wrapping her arm around the boy's throat and sweeping one of his legs so that they would both fall forward and into the dust. "Team four!" Calls a deep voice from the left, Chijimatsu's heart dropping as it echoes among the trees and foliage. She does her best to keep the boy quiet, laying her slim form on top of him so that his hands couldn't make it together and holding her arm around his neck so that he couldn't call back to the assumed Chuunin.
The man never came to look for them, assuming that they had already made it back to the village. Chijimatsu didn't kill the shinobi and still thinks back to the day as an act of training with no malice in her mind. She saw an opportunity to better herself and did just that. This form of training didn't last long after parties of Chuunin were sent to search for the source of the random attacks, her training turning back to taking place alone. She would occasionally attacks small groups over the next few years, though never killed anyone, nor carried these actions out with malice destructive violence.
Knowing that the academy students and genin that usually trained in the forest would laugh in her face if she approached them, she began to follow and watch them. Chijimatsu had to make herself near invisible, to not just hide herself from line of sight but also from the shinobi that would be able to sense her very presence. It was only so long before this practice wasn't enough for her, her body growing restless as she watched them fight, learn from each other, and even critique each other. Chijimatsu began to strike, randomly targeting those students who stood off to the side watching their team members spar. Her strikes had to be quick and she had to further hone her accuracy when attacking from the shadows. Her plan was not to kill these students, just plant moves on them that would render them unable to attack back or follow her back to her hiding places. Many times, the student or genin she decided to attack was the strongest of the three, and sometimes that shinobi standing to the sidelines turned out to be of Chuunin rank.
Around the time that Chijimatsu was twelve years old, she had been watching a small group of shinobi and she had noticed each one of their signature jutsu, her plan this time was not to single out just one shinobi, but to immobilize all three. Two of the shinobi were sparring, a situation that she was used to watching. The third stood by and called out to his friends about how they could do better, and even when they should use particular jutsu. He never saw Chijimatsu coming, and with a swift kick to the back of his head, she dropped him in plain sight of his team, where they stopped their training and eyed the girl that had been randomly attacking teams in this particular area for weeks now. Determined to stop her and drag her back to their team leader, each of them threw the best ninjutsu they had and without any to return, Chijimatsu ran through the attacks, her body feeling the damage, but her mind set on dealing with them. The two reeled as she pounced towards them, one even stumbling as she turned to run in fear. That was her first target, and while Chijimatsu could not see nor sense the girl's chakra network, she had once seen a photo of how most run and hoped that her memory was correct. Her fist was aimed at the girl's chest, just before her neck where she remembered an intersection of chakra pathways, hoping to stop the flow of chakra so that she could turn her attention to the other young shinobi, who was already forming the signs for fireball between the both of his hands. Chijimatsu's eyes scanned the boy, his own eyes focused on molding the perfect amount of chakra into his hands. She hopes to rely on her kicking ability once again, her long leg swinging to literally kick the hands forming the signs. Midway through the kick she had already planned her next move, her leg falling back to the ground at the same time that she used it to move her body to the side of the boy, a hand reaching out for his neck before he could cry out for help. Once her hand made contact, she moves again, wrapping her arm around the boy's throat and sweeping one of his legs so that they would both fall forward and into the dust. "Team four!" Calls a deep voice from the left, Chijimatsu's heart dropping as it echoes among the trees and foliage. She does her best to keep the boy quiet, laying her slim form on top of him so that his hands couldn't make it together and holding her arm around his neck so that he couldn't call back to the assumed Chuunin.
The man never came to look for them, assuming that they had already made it back to the village. Chijimatsu didn't kill the shinobi and still thinks back to the day as an act of training with no malice in her mind. She saw an opportunity to better herself and did just that. This form of training didn't last long after parties of Chuunin were sent to search for the source of the random attacks, her training turning back to taking place alone. She would occasionally attacks small groups over the next few years, though never killed anyone, nor carried these actions out with malice destructive violence.
Kinjutsu: Jashinism</I>
<I>Chijimatsu has always seemed to spend her life by herself, having little to no interest in interacting with others, especially those around her own age. That being said, most if not all of her journeys have been solitary. The loneliness, while comforting to her also forces her towards discomfort. With not a soul to speak to, Chijimatsu often finds herself following her own lead, and even the lead of the voices that call out to her, whether in the same room or somewhere in the distance. Her entire life, she has only ever followed the trail of one voice in particular, aside from her own. The voice that coaxed her out of bed in the middle of the night, the voice that pushed her to take her first victim. The night that it happened was like any other, and to this time she’s unable to recall on which day it even happened. When Chijimatsu was just fifteen years old, she found a path where she was anything but alone, accompanied by a kind voice that often calls to her, directing her further down a path darker than she’s ever taken before.
The sun had set some time ago, Chijimatsu sleeping peacefully in her small home that sat three stories above the now quiet streets. The night is an average one, the moon not even full and just barely illuminating the night sky. A vivid dream, fueled by the imagination of the young girl forces her to toss and turn, throwing the blankets off of each her limbs. Until suddenly, a voice booms throughout the impossible scenario, calling for her to wake up. Chijimatsu forces herself awake, sitting up and gasping loudly. A single droplet of sweat rolls along her right temple, her heart quickly pounding in her chest. “Hello?” She calls, her voice hoarse and almost silent. Her eyes dart towards the street, where she doesn’t see a single person, only darkness and a soft layer of glistening water droplets sitting atop the pavement. The voice doesn’t respond to her call, her weak little call. She gazes around her room now, hoping that she can find the source somewhere in this realm, the realm separate from the place where her dream took place. Not willing to face that side of her imagination again, Chijimatsu completely throws her blankets to the side of the bed and stands, giving a long stretch before changing into clothes that’d be more suitable for a walk in the middle of the night than sleeping. Arming herself with a small pouch of shuriken and an overcoat.
Now walking down the damp street, the young woman continuously looks over her shoulders, her eyes scanning the distance in front of her. She doesn’t have a destination or any sort of semblance of an idea of where she may be headed. Chijimatsu runs her fingers through her hair, the hood over her coat coming off with the careful gesture. A strong gust of wind rolls through the air, not kicking up any leaves or foliage, just calling for Chijimatsu to stop, her hair flowing and her stature waivering just slightly. The gust does its duty in halting her in her tracks, her eyes even widening at the rush it has to offer. She gulps, twisting her head from side to side before calling out to whomever may be playing tricks on her. “Who are you?” Her voice echoes dully, it still quiet and even still slightly hoarse. No voice echoes in return, though a deep, gentle voice fills her head, causing her slim figure to shudder. “Do you smell that?” The voice asks, the metallic scent of blood following the dying gust, causing Chijimatsu’s pupils to dilate like those of a shark. The scent grows so strong that she can almost taste the red liquid of whichever fellow human being may be bleeding nearby. The voice doesn’t deserve a response for making her feel this way, but regardless, she nods as if its coming from a towering man that stands just before her. “Down the alley, go on child.” It booms once more, compelling her to take a turn to her right, where her eyes fall on the distant figures of two young men, sparring against a backdrop of cinder blocks and garbage. The source of the blood is now apparent to Chijimatsu, each man’s face smeared with each other’s blood and even more likely, their own. The smell to her only grew stronger, beads of sweat beginning to cover her soft visage. “Don’t you see, their lives are full of pain, they suffer everyday just to live. Won’t you show them mercy, Chijimatsu?” The voice asks, even softer this time. “Won’t you put them out of their misery, child?”
Two tears finally decide to roll out of the young woman’s eyelids, assuming that she’s slowly going insane. Avoiding voices all of her life has pushed her to the point of hearing them, and this one… this one is murderous! Chijimatsu shakes her head, though she can’t take her eyes off of the battling men. The scent of their blood is now more than apparent to Chijimatsu, her own blood feeling hot as her heart pumps faster and stronger. “Do it.” commands the voice, propelling the young woman to march down the alley, her strong hands closing into tight fists as she approaches the men, whom are completely oblivious of any aspect of her existence. She grits her teeth, her tongue wiggling nervously within its prison made of grinding bone. She watches them fighting as she nears, the larger of the two swinging a massive fist into the side of the other’s head. She watches the lesser of the two crumple to the ground, knockout. The larger exhales and places his hands on his knees, near exhausted from his own personal fight. Silence fills the alley, Chijimatsu’s footsteps finally the only thing resounding against the grimy walls of the alley. The man stands, his head turning to her. A laugh bellows from the bottom of his gut and he rubs at the greasy hair that sits upon his meaty head, “Coming to congratulate me?” the hoarse voice calls to her, his gut even bouncing slightly as he begins to laugh. “This must be a dream!” He calls out, laughing even more maniacally now. She takes three quick steps towards him, landing on her right foot just before the cackling man, using her momentum she quickly leaps upward, leading with her right fist. The man can’t even come close to reacting, her speed impeccable and her punch flying at what feels like nearly mach speed. The punch connects, shattering the jaw of the large man and sending him backwards and into the pile of trash that acted as a backdrop to his earlier fight. The man, his face still covered in blood coughs wetly the red liquid thickly rolling from each corner of his lips. Chijimatsu can’t help but to gulp her fear back down her throat and stare at the man, the voice not propelling her any further though her mind pushes her to show these men mercy, to free them from the horror that is their everyday life.
Chijimatsu doesn’t remember killing the men, and she doesn’t remember what happened afterwards. Her life has been changed forever and she blacked out during her transition. Awakening when the sun hangs the highest in the sky isn’t normal for Chijimatsu, but on this day her eyes creak open, her entirety coated with blood and her body even sorer than it would be after her longest days of training. The young woman groans, though fights through the pain to sit up, around her sits less than five people, but to her it seems to be more than fifteen. Her vision plays tricks on her and she’s sure that the people in front of her are doing the same. Not a single one of the figures before her opens their mouth, the voice that felt like just a dream ringing in her ears, “I’ve chosen to spare you so that you will follow me, child. One day, you will play an importance as a disciple of Jashin.” Chijimatsu closes her eyes, her fingers dragging trails through the thick blood that covers her face. Tears begin to flow and her body grows hot, she doesn’t understand a thing that has happened or even what any of this actually means, her unworldly young mind highly susceptible to the coercion of Jashin, therefore putting him in control of her fate.
Now Chijimatsu, while occasionally hearing Jashin, fights the urges he has to offer, the bloodlust that he wants to inflict upon her. She cannot always control these urges and when the control is lost she chooses her victims carefully, as not to be noticed or to be caught in the act. Many that follow the same religion as Chijimatsu tend to target the most powerful of opponents, wanting to make a scene in the name of the being they worship. She refuses to do this, too loving of her own life to give it away in the name of Jashin, the one who turned her into a murderer.
WC: 1535
The sun had set some time ago, Chijimatsu sleeping peacefully in her small home that sat three stories above the now quiet streets. The night is an average one, the moon not even full and just barely illuminating the night sky. A vivid dream, fueled by the imagination of the young girl forces her to toss and turn, throwing the blankets off of each her limbs. Until suddenly, a voice booms throughout the impossible scenario, calling for her to wake up. Chijimatsu forces herself awake, sitting up and gasping loudly. A single droplet of sweat rolls along her right temple, her heart quickly pounding in her chest. “Hello?” She calls, her voice hoarse and almost silent. Her eyes dart towards the street, where she doesn’t see a single person, only darkness and a soft layer of glistening water droplets sitting atop the pavement. The voice doesn’t respond to her call, her weak little call. She gazes around her room now, hoping that she can find the source somewhere in this realm, the realm separate from the place where her dream took place. Not willing to face that side of her imagination again, Chijimatsu completely throws her blankets to the side of the bed and stands, giving a long stretch before changing into clothes that’d be more suitable for a walk in the middle of the night than sleeping. Arming herself with a small pouch of shuriken and an overcoat.
Now walking down the damp street, the young woman continuously looks over her shoulders, her eyes scanning the distance in front of her. She doesn’t have a destination or any sort of semblance of an idea of where she may be headed. Chijimatsu runs her fingers through her hair, the hood over her coat coming off with the careful gesture. A strong gust of wind rolls through the air, not kicking up any leaves or foliage, just calling for Chijimatsu to stop, her hair flowing and her stature waivering just slightly. The gust does its duty in halting her in her tracks, her eyes even widening at the rush it has to offer. She gulps, twisting her head from side to side before calling out to whomever may be playing tricks on her. “Who are you?” Her voice echoes dully, it still quiet and even still slightly hoarse. No voice echoes in return, though a deep, gentle voice fills her head, causing her slim figure to shudder. “Do you smell that?” The voice asks, the metallic scent of blood following the dying gust, causing Chijimatsu’s pupils to dilate like those of a shark. The scent grows so strong that she can almost taste the red liquid of whichever fellow human being may be bleeding nearby. The voice doesn’t deserve a response for making her feel this way, but regardless, she nods as if its coming from a towering man that stands just before her. “Down the alley, go on child.” It booms once more, compelling her to take a turn to her right, where her eyes fall on the distant figures of two young men, sparring against a backdrop of cinder blocks and garbage. The source of the blood is now apparent to Chijimatsu, each man’s face smeared with each other’s blood and even more likely, their own. The smell to her only grew stronger, beads of sweat beginning to cover her soft visage. “Don’t you see, their lives are full of pain, they suffer everyday just to live. Won’t you show them mercy, Chijimatsu?” The voice asks, even softer this time. “Won’t you put them out of their misery, child?”
Two tears finally decide to roll out of the young woman’s eyelids, assuming that she’s slowly going insane. Avoiding voices all of her life has pushed her to the point of hearing them, and this one… this one is murderous! Chijimatsu shakes her head, though she can’t take her eyes off of the battling men. The scent of their blood is now more than apparent to Chijimatsu, her own blood feeling hot as her heart pumps faster and stronger. “Do it.” commands the voice, propelling the young woman to march down the alley, her strong hands closing into tight fists as she approaches the men, whom are completely oblivious of any aspect of her existence. She grits her teeth, her tongue wiggling nervously within its prison made of grinding bone. She watches them fighting as she nears, the larger of the two swinging a massive fist into the side of the other’s head. She watches the lesser of the two crumple to the ground, knockout. The larger exhales and places his hands on his knees, near exhausted from his own personal fight. Silence fills the alley, Chijimatsu’s footsteps finally the only thing resounding against the grimy walls of the alley. The man stands, his head turning to her. A laugh bellows from the bottom of his gut and he rubs at the greasy hair that sits upon his meaty head, “Coming to congratulate me?” the hoarse voice calls to her, his gut even bouncing slightly as he begins to laugh. “This must be a dream!” He calls out, laughing even more maniacally now. She takes three quick steps towards him, landing on her right foot just before the cackling man, using her momentum she quickly leaps upward, leading with her right fist. The man can’t even come close to reacting, her speed impeccable and her punch flying at what feels like nearly mach speed. The punch connects, shattering the jaw of the large man and sending him backwards and into the pile of trash that acted as a backdrop to his earlier fight. The man, his face still covered in blood coughs wetly the red liquid thickly rolling from each corner of his lips. Chijimatsu can’t help but to gulp her fear back down her throat and stare at the man, the voice not propelling her any further though her mind pushes her to show these men mercy, to free them from the horror that is their everyday life.
Chijimatsu doesn’t remember killing the men, and she doesn’t remember what happened afterwards. Her life has been changed forever and she blacked out during her transition. Awakening when the sun hangs the highest in the sky isn’t normal for Chijimatsu, but on this day her eyes creak open, her entirety coated with blood and her body even sorer than it would be after her longest days of training. The young woman groans, though fights through the pain to sit up, around her sits less than five people, but to her it seems to be more than fifteen. Her vision plays tricks on her and she’s sure that the people in front of her are doing the same. Not a single one of the figures before her opens their mouth, the voice that felt like just a dream ringing in her ears, “I’ve chosen to spare you so that you will follow me, child. One day, you will play an importance as a disciple of Jashin.” Chijimatsu closes her eyes, her fingers dragging trails through the thick blood that covers her face. Tears begin to flow and her body grows hot, she doesn’t understand a thing that has happened or even what any of this actually means, her unworldly young mind highly susceptible to the coercion of Jashin, therefore putting him in control of her fate.
Now Chijimatsu, while occasionally hearing Jashin, fights the urges he has to offer, the bloodlust that he wants to inflict upon her. She cannot always control these urges and when the control is lost she chooses her victims carefully, as not to be noticed or to be caught in the act. Many that follow the same religion as Chijimatsu tend to target the most powerful of opponents, wanting to make a scene in the name of the being they worship. She refuses to do this, too loving of her own life to give it away in the name of Jashin, the one who turned her into a murderer.
WC: 1535
