Old Character Name: Tonkon Maki
Old Village/Missing: Leaf
OCR Type: Retiring. Leaving Maki as an NPC under Isaki Hoshirei, and leaving the Isaki clan to her also.
Last Known Where-abouts: Leaf
Old IC Rank: Sennin
New Character Name: Orouro Yuukaze
Preferred Username: Orouro
New Village/Missing: Missing
New BL/CA: Cadency/Wind Valkyrie(Chimera)
Custom Class:
Epic Bard (Vet)
HP: (50+lvl) x stamina
CP: (50+lvl) x chakra control
Class Bonus: +1 Gen DC
High:: Genjutsu DC
Average: Evasion, Melee Accuracy, Genjutsu Save
Low: Ninjutsu Accuracy, Ranged Accuracy[/quote]
Main Branch/ANBU/Med-Nin: ANBU
IC Rank: Mercenary
Character Age: 40
Gender: Male
Sex: Male
Character's Physical Description:
Yuukaze stands at an unassuming 5’10” and weighs a mere 175 pounds. He has gray-blue eyes and black hair. Roughly a quarter of his scalp is covered by an opaque white shield of some sort that hides the extensive scarring done to him in his life. He keeps his facial hair to a mere triangle just under his mouth. He is often seen in well made, quality outfits that clash with his life as a wandering performer.
Character's Mental Description: Yuukaze is a duality mentally. He himself is mostly detached from other people, caring about humanity as a whole but not the person as an individual. Megami has been a positive influence in that at the least he has some social skills. Like many in his particular state, he mostly uses them to try and manipulate people. If he feels it best for humanity, he would wipe out a thousand to save a million. And in a selfish way, he believes his life more important than any other as he wishes to usher the world into greatness for the human race.
Multiple Personality Application: Currently he has Megami. A female of the same age as him, she was a subject in the same experiments he underwent. These experiments linked their minds together, and when she was murdered her consciousness fled into his own mind. She can take control, with his approval, and be able to experience the world again this way.
Character History:
Clan Request: None
Death/Retirement Thread: Post the thread that your character died or retired. If applicable
Old Profile: https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=773&t=56373
Old Training: https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=774&t=52426
Old Dojo: https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=775&t=52425
Special Usergroups: Admin - Keeping that.
Old Stats: Capped, ASP is at 578 per my last training.
Old OOC Rank: S
Stat Cut: None
New Stats: Capped
New OOC Rank: S
Jutsu Mastery Swaps:
I am not swapping anything. Listing them in a post below for future reference/paper trail. List breaks the dang post limit if I don't do that.
My medical jutsu will be locked until I make the swap to a mednin to regain them. I don’t wish to go through a lot of paperwork on masteries, so can we just go “Those are mastered but don’t count until then”?
Other Refunds:
Selling Vengeance Augment, Vanguard Augment, and Lucky Dodge Augment.
Name of any Contract you currently own: None, but I wish to finish my ongoing search and transfer that over afterwards. https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=807&t=56962
Name of any Cursed Seals you currently own: None
Name of Kinjutsu you own: Chimera
Obtaining Chimera, and Ghost Walker ontop of Reckless. And Approval for Hyuuga.
Still actively roleplaying in any other threads? Yes. My contract search and a months old topic I'm going to let the new owner of Maki finish.
Upon death, roleplayers in ANY of your other incomplete thread(s) are to vote whether they can deal with your non-existence from the beginning of these thread(s). Whether you joined these thread(s) before or after you entered the battle that got you killed, you are still considered a part of these thread(s).
- If players vote yes, you get to move on to your next life.
- If players vote no, you must stay in those threads as if you were still alive.
ASP Items:
I didn't see a spot for this but I have the following ASP items that transfer over:
4 Extra RP Slot cards
Half The Time Card
Class Points Card
Ability Slot Card
5 Extra AE Slot Cards
Old Village/Missing: Leaf
OCR Type: Retiring. Leaving Maki as an NPC under Isaki Hoshirei, and leaving the Isaki clan to her also.
Last Known Where-abouts: Leaf
Old IC Rank: Sennin
New Character Name: Orouro Yuukaze
Preferred Username: Orouro
New Village/Missing: Missing
New BL/CA: Cadency/Wind Valkyrie(Chimera)
Custom Class:
Epic Bard (Vet)
HP: (50+lvl) x stamina
CP: (50+lvl) x chakra control
Class Bonus: +1 Gen DC
High:: Genjutsu DC
Average: Evasion, Melee Accuracy, Genjutsu Save
Low: Ninjutsu Accuracy, Ranged Accuracy[/quote]
Main Branch/ANBU/Med-Nin: ANBU
IC Rank: Mercenary
Character Age: 40
Gender: Male
Sex: Male
Character's Physical Description:
Yuukaze stands at an unassuming 5’10” and weighs a mere 175 pounds. He has gray-blue eyes and black hair. Roughly a quarter of his scalp is covered by an opaque white shield of some sort that hides the extensive scarring done to him in his life. He keeps his facial hair to a mere triangle just under his mouth. He is often seen in well made, quality outfits that clash with his life as a wandering performer.
Character's Mental Description: Yuukaze is a duality mentally. He himself is mostly detached from other people, caring about humanity as a whole but not the person as an individual. Megami has been a positive influence in that at the least he has some social skills. Like many in his particular state, he mostly uses them to try and manipulate people. If he feels it best for humanity, he would wipe out a thousand to save a million. And in a selfish way, he believes his life more important than any other as he wishes to usher the world into greatness for the human race.
Multiple Personality Application: Currently he has Megami. A female of the same age as him, she was a subject in the same experiments he underwent. These experiments linked their minds together, and when she was murdered her consciousness fled into his own mind. She can take control, with his approval, and be able to experience the world again this way.
Character History:
White was the color of his world. Born into it, raised in it. White walls, white ceiling, white floor. A white bed and white bathroom. White clothes. White sheets. Even the camera They used to keep an eye on him was white. They were big on cleanliness. This made the black of darkness all the more pleasing. He never had true dark, for there was always some sort of light in his room. Bouncing off the white so much that even a night light could become a beacon. Darkness was his friend. It was the thing that brought him solace.
He never knew his parents. According to the files he took after escaping, he was created in Their lab using donors. Gestated in a piece of equipment and going without a mother’s touch probably had some small part to do with his psychological state. From as far back as he could remember he was an experiment for Them. They would come into his room and force him to memorize things. Force him to do things. It would be years before he heard the word for what he was messing with – Chakra. Apparently, he could do some rather unique things with it.
He could mold the wind to his bidding. Even at a young age he was able to manipulate air on Their command. They seemed pleased with this. He was given nothing to promote such behavior, however. Instead if he acted against Their wishes, he would be shocked. White though they may have been, every surface in his room was made of metal. Even the bed wasn’t safe, if he tried to seek it out for safety it would pitch to the side and dump him on the floor, and the shock would be worse.
When he was a teenager, he had no privacy. A young man with raging hormones whose only glimpse of other humans was Them. They didn’t interest him. He had no idea what to do with himself. Whenever he tried to do anything to release his growing anger and confusion, he would be shocked and told to stop being inappropriate. Everything he did was watched. They knew him better than They did anyone.
It was at 15 that they finished step one of Their experiment. He was asleep, unknowing of the time for in his room there was no day or night, only white. The door opened, as it did when They wanted to poke him or prod him or hook things up to him to check if he was adapting to whatever They put in his body that week. Instead of the gentle awakening They usually gave him, though, there was a sharp pain as straps were throw over him and he was lashed roughly to the bed. He awoke struggling, and more pain came as They began to lash him and scream at him to be still. In the end They injected him with something that brought on the darkness.
He saw the video later, after he stole it. A child of a decade and a half wheeled into the surgical room in that stretcher. And then his head was shaved. A marker made several designs on his head before the whirring of the saw came into play. They were quiet, methodical. It took time, but soon the right side of his skull was exposed, and the saw revved higher, opening the way into the brain itself. For the first time, words could be heard on the video.
“Get the replacement. This might take some time and we don’t have long once its out. I have to be sure to do this properly or we could lose the last 15 years of work. Bring her in.”
Another stretcher would be brought in, this one with a teenage girl on it, and the saw would be taken her own skull, also on the right side. For himself, the man who spoke was being very patient with what he was doing, his scalpel moving with confidence after the briefest of hesitations to be sure he was in the right spot. He was blocking the camera as he worked, making it near impossible to see what he was doing. Another man similarly begins to work on the girl, but the camera can see just find what was going on there as the scalpel dips into her gray matter, slowly cutting her brain into halves.
It was excruciatingly slow, taking several hours as They had people standing around just to pump chakra into the two teenagers in order to keep their brains from dying from this invasion. Once the men were done, those assistants would be replaced with fresh faces to keep the chakra going, the healing energies keeping those kids alive through whatever this sick science experiment was.
It was unceremonious when it happened. The right half of his brain was put in her head, and the right half of her own was put into his. And then the surgeons were replaced with two new people who, to the untrained eye, weren’t doing much of anything. But a keen observer could see the two brain halves growing together. Once that was done, once more the assistants come up to flood them with healing chakra as the surgeons show up and begin to undo all of the work to get into their skulls in the first place.
He’d burned the tape. And the files. Not only did he not want anyone else to see them and pity him, he nearly vomited at the idea of someone else finding them and trying to recreate what was on them.
All he knew then, however, was waking up with the most intense migraine anyone has ever experienced in the history of ever, and a large white thing covered half of his head. White was the color of his pain. The light in his room was bright, it hurt. He thrashed in his bed before he was once more sedated. This would repeat three more times before he finally woke up and it was tolerable. Tolerable does not mean comfortable, however. It was still a spear being driven into his brain, but at least he could awaken without screaming in torment from it.
They were more active with him after that. He was to try new things. Manipulating the wind no longer did the trick for Them. He was given instruments to play, sheet music to recreate. He was forced to sing. Sing he did, and after a time, weeks at most, he was once more pleasing Them as he matched pitch and note on cue, as he showed a talent with these instruments that he never had before, as he could read the sheets handed to him and improve upon them. He pleased Them by being something different. He could not figure it out on his own. And he would not need to.
“Hey. Are you there?”
Darkness was interrupted, it was diminished. But not destroyed. A voice, a still, small voice in the quiet of his slumber. “Hi. I can feel you’re hearing me.” Once more there was confusion, but he responded. “I….can. Who are you?” Somehow, he could sense elation at the words, and with that sense came a vision. A face. A young woman roughly his own age. Fiery, orange-red hair and deep blue eyes. A smile, small and troubled but present. He smiled, unconsciously.
“I am Megami. Or, that is what They call me. What do they call you?”
He gave his own designation, and soon the conversation would deepen. They spoke like this for hours, somehow bound to each other with this ability to converse without needing words, or even knowing where the other was. At his insistence, Megami agreed not to tell Them they could do this. He learned that she was, like him, raised in a white room. And They did experiments on her also. They noticed in her a knack for performance. Music, showmanship, a memory capable of reciting plays. She mentioned how she too was bound and knocked out, and how after she awoke, They forced her to do new things, to manipulate the winds. To move items with a breeze where before the air was still.
He had no way of knowing how it was done, only that it was. As time passed, they grew closer. It was hard not to when the bond became so powerful they could know each other’s thoughts, so strong it was in effect even when awake. This was how he found love. How he found companionship. This was how he found all of the things he’d never had before. And how he knew when They ripped it from him, violently.
Megami began to speak of how They were growing less happy with her progress. While he himself was constantly getting pleasant smiles and could overhear whispers of how good he was doing, Megami heard only offhand comments about her being a failure. About her being the weaker of them. He told her not to worry. He told her it would be okay. He had no idea what would happen.
They burst into her room in the middle of her sleep period again. Both of them were instantly awake. As she was strapped down, he rose from his bed and began trying to calm her down. Then he felt it as the blows began to rain down. No simple injection now, no worries about harming Their test subject. A few punches and kicks and she was out. It was cheaper that way.
He felt his rage welling up inside. They denied him so much in his life. And now they were hurting the only good thing he had. Without conscious thought he began to build the wind in his room. As she began to regain consciousness, through her he heard Them begin panicking at the fact that “Patient Alpha” was behaving erratically. The winds kept forming, their force beginning to vibrate his small living space. As the door finally broke free, he heard it clear as day.
“Just fucking shoot her.”
It was as if the cosmos opened up. A bright flash, a brief moment of agony, and then stars. And once more her voice, in his head. Asking what happened. Asking why she felt different. He couldn’t tell her yet, as he stared out of his now open door and saw, across a hallway, her form in the room across from his own. The blood, the corpse. And Them, standing around her as someone put a gun away and looked at him with a mix of fear and outrage.
“Am I….is that me? I am…..dead?”
He released a howl then. Waves of sound coming from his form that ripped the wall clean and bowled Them all over. Security guards arrived, he would later find out they were trained shinobi whose job was to contain the subjects. They were shredded before his rage, paper in a thunderstorm. Sound and wind flew about the facility on that day, and none were spared. The entire time, Megami pleaded with him to calm down. But his anger was boundless as each time he was reminded that his only friend, his only family, his only love was dead. And while she, somehow, lived on in his mind, he could never touch her. Never hold her. Never be with her.
Only after all of them were dead was he able to bring calm back to himself. Megami was the one doing the thinking now. She had him go find the files. Find the tapes. Everything was packed that looked important. Into a large rolling back they’d found, a suitcase one of Them had used to move into this place. With that in tow, he left. But not before collapsing the entire building in on itself and then pummeling the remains with sound and wind until it was rubble. And even then, he felt it was not enough.
A day of travel brought them to the most beautiful sight either had ever seen up to then. A sprawling city that seemed to epitomize the idea of symbolism. The buildings went from stocky squared to flowing pagodas. From no-nonsense gray to bright and colorful homes of the rich. Tsukigakure, the city of the moon ran by a religion. Megami was ecstatic. He was the one who suggested they leave quickly. After all, what were the odds that the leaders of this place had no idea of the entire facility only a day’s walk from their base?
Megami had the idea to make a living by performing. He would let her take control when she wanted, and she was a showman above any other. Singing and storytelling got them enough money to buy some instruments. This led to a covered wagon for storage. This led to a bigger wagon that would be used to hold clothes, instruments, and set pieces if need be.
He had the idea to begin using the other part of her talent, the part where her singing could not only move people, but confuse their minds. The set pieces slowly dwindled as her singing could create those set pieces in the minds of the viewers. The clothes also began going down, the wagon once more moved to a smaller one. Then that too was sold for simply a good horse.
For his own part, being able to manipulate the winds was a boon when they needed to travel by water. Favorable winds got them work on ships when they needed to travel, being the only passengers on board who could demand not only free passage, but money from the captain was a treat in itself. And if that failed, pirates always wanted a wind mage who would be able to help them catch up to those same captains who denied their help earlier. Megami was displeased with this, but he pointed out sometimes one must sacrifice in order to move forward.
The passing years were not easy, but they weren’t overly hard. He became known as the Bard. A man who would visit, entertain and amaze, and then move on. And if they needed to supplement their meager income with less savory acts such as robbery or burglary, then that was a necessity. Megami never truly got used to that, but he could reason with her often enough.
He began to see the world as it was. While Megami was happy to feel the breeze and see the sun, he could only see how unjust this world was. How the majority was held back by the few elite. How humanity could be better. Much as he hated Them, he knew They were correct that reaching one’s full potential was the path to greatness.
The files they kept, were important to them. They were the only subjects who survived, it seemed. Alpha, himself. Gamma, Megami. Beta and Iota didn’t make it through the surgery. Delta and Theta did, but They noted that a mental connection formed and put them down to keep them from communicating. It made him grimly happy that he convinced Megami to keep this a secret.
Subject Epsilon was special, however. There was a note that she did not survive, but that her dna was “integrating nicely into Alpha’s body”. They couldn’t find any other information on this Epsilon but knew it wasn’t a good thing not to know what was going on. Megami wanted to go back. She wanted to know what Epsilon was like.
He had no intention of going back. That place of pain. That place of nightmares. That place whose foundations lay white, bleached in the sun of Moon. White was the color of his pain, after all.
He never knew his parents. According to the files he took after escaping, he was created in Their lab using donors. Gestated in a piece of equipment and going without a mother’s touch probably had some small part to do with his psychological state. From as far back as he could remember he was an experiment for Them. They would come into his room and force him to memorize things. Force him to do things. It would be years before he heard the word for what he was messing with – Chakra. Apparently, he could do some rather unique things with it.
He could mold the wind to his bidding. Even at a young age he was able to manipulate air on Their command. They seemed pleased with this. He was given nothing to promote such behavior, however. Instead if he acted against Their wishes, he would be shocked. White though they may have been, every surface in his room was made of metal. Even the bed wasn’t safe, if he tried to seek it out for safety it would pitch to the side and dump him on the floor, and the shock would be worse.
When he was a teenager, he had no privacy. A young man with raging hormones whose only glimpse of other humans was Them. They didn’t interest him. He had no idea what to do with himself. Whenever he tried to do anything to release his growing anger and confusion, he would be shocked and told to stop being inappropriate. Everything he did was watched. They knew him better than They did anyone.
It was at 15 that they finished step one of Their experiment. He was asleep, unknowing of the time for in his room there was no day or night, only white. The door opened, as it did when They wanted to poke him or prod him or hook things up to him to check if he was adapting to whatever They put in his body that week. Instead of the gentle awakening They usually gave him, though, there was a sharp pain as straps were throw over him and he was lashed roughly to the bed. He awoke struggling, and more pain came as They began to lash him and scream at him to be still. In the end They injected him with something that brought on the darkness.
He saw the video later, after he stole it. A child of a decade and a half wheeled into the surgical room in that stretcher. And then his head was shaved. A marker made several designs on his head before the whirring of the saw came into play. They were quiet, methodical. It took time, but soon the right side of his skull was exposed, and the saw revved higher, opening the way into the brain itself. For the first time, words could be heard on the video.
“Get the replacement. This might take some time and we don’t have long once its out. I have to be sure to do this properly or we could lose the last 15 years of work. Bring her in.”
Another stretcher would be brought in, this one with a teenage girl on it, and the saw would be taken her own skull, also on the right side. For himself, the man who spoke was being very patient with what he was doing, his scalpel moving with confidence after the briefest of hesitations to be sure he was in the right spot. He was blocking the camera as he worked, making it near impossible to see what he was doing. Another man similarly begins to work on the girl, but the camera can see just find what was going on there as the scalpel dips into her gray matter, slowly cutting her brain into halves.
It was excruciatingly slow, taking several hours as They had people standing around just to pump chakra into the two teenagers in order to keep their brains from dying from this invasion. Once the men were done, those assistants would be replaced with fresh faces to keep the chakra going, the healing energies keeping those kids alive through whatever this sick science experiment was.
It was unceremonious when it happened. The right half of his brain was put in her head, and the right half of her own was put into his. And then the surgeons were replaced with two new people who, to the untrained eye, weren’t doing much of anything. But a keen observer could see the two brain halves growing together. Once that was done, once more the assistants come up to flood them with healing chakra as the surgeons show up and begin to undo all of the work to get into their skulls in the first place.
He’d burned the tape. And the files. Not only did he not want anyone else to see them and pity him, he nearly vomited at the idea of someone else finding them and trying to recreate what was on them.
All he knew then, however, was waking up with the most intense migraine anyone has ever experienced in the history of ever, and a large white thing covered half of his head. White was the color of his pain. The light in his room was bright, it hurt. He thrashed in his bed before he was once more sedated. This would repeat three more times before he finally woke up and it was tolerable. Tolerable does not mean comfortable, however. It was still a spear being driven into his brain, but at least he could awaken without screaming in torment from it.
They were more active with him after that. He was to try new things. Manipulating the wind no longer did the trick for Them. He was given instruments to play, sheet music to recreate. He was forced to sing. Sing he did, and after a time, weeks at most, he was once more pleasing Them as he matched pitch and note on cue, as he showed a talent with these instruments that he never had before, as he could read the sheets handed to him and improve upon them. He pleased Them by being something different. He could not figure it out on his own. And he would not need to.
“Hey. Are you there?”
Darkness was interrupted, it was diminished. But not destroyed. A voice, a still, small voice in the quiet of his slumber. “Hi. I can feel you’re hearing me.” Once more there was confusion, but he responded. “I….can. Who are you?” Somehow, he could sense elation at the words, and with that sense came a vision. A face. A young woman roughly his own age. Fiery, orange-red hair and deep blue eyes. A smile, small and troubled but present. He smiled, unconsciously.
“I am Megami. Or, that is what They call me. What do they call you?”
He gave his own designation, and soon the conversation would deepen. They spoke like this for hours, somehow bound to each other with this ability to converse without needing words, or even knowing where the other was. At his insistence, Megami agreed not to tell Them they could do this. He learned that she was, like him, raised in a white room. And They did experiments on her also. They noticed in her a knack for performance. Music, showmanship, a memory capable of reciting plays. She mentioned how she too was bound and knocked out, and how after she awoke, They forced her to do new things, to manipulate the winds. To move items with a breeze where before the air was still.
He had no way of knowing how it was done, only that it was. As time passed, they grew closer. It was hard not to when the bond became so powerful they could know each other’s thoughts, so strong it was in effect even when awake. This was how he found love. How he found companionship. This was how he found all of the things he’d never had before. And how he knew when They ripped it from him, violently.
Megami began to speak of how They were growing less happy with her progress. While he himself was constantly getting pleasant smiles and could overhear whispers of how good he was doing, Megami heard only offhand comments about her being a failure. About her being the weaker of them. He told her not to worry. He told her it would be okay. He had no idea what would happen.
They burst into her room in the middle of her sleep period again. Both of them were instantly awake. As she was strapped down, he rose from his bed and began trying to calm her down. Then he felt it as the blows began to rain down. No simple injection now, no worries about harming Their test subject. A few punches and kicks and she was out. It was cheaper that way.
He felt his rage welling up inside. They denied him so much in his life. And now they were hurting the only good thing he had. Without conscious thought he began to build the wind in his room. As she began to regain consciousness, through her he heard Them begin panicking at the fact that “Patient Alpha” was behaving erratically. The winds kept forming, their force beginning to vibrate his small living space. As the door finally broke free, he heard it clear as day.
“Just fucking shoot her.”
It was as if the cosmos opened up. A bright flash, a brief moment of agony, and then stars. And once more her voice, in his head. Asking what happened. Asking why she felt different. He couldn’t tell her yet, as he stared out of his now open door and saw, across a hallway, her form in the room across from his own. The blood, the corpse. And Them, standing around her as someone put a gun away and looked at him with a mix of fear and outrage.
“Am I….is that me? I am…..dead?”
He released a howl then. Waves of sound coming from his form that ripped the wall clean and bowled Them all over. Security guards arrived, he would later find out they were trained shinobi whose job was to contain the subjects. They were shredded before his rage, paper in a thunderstorm. Sound and wind flew about the facility on that day, and none were spared. The entire time, Megami pleaded with him to calm down. But his anger was boundless as each time he was reminded that his only friend, his only family, his only love was dead. And while she, somehow, lived on in his mind, he could never touch her. Never hold her. Never be with her.
Only after all of them were dead was he able to bring calm back to himself. Megami was the one doing the thinking now. She had him go find the files. Find the tapes. Everything was packed that looked important. Into a large rolling back they’d found, a suitcase one of Them had used to move into this place. With that in tow, he left. But not before collapsing the entire building in on itself and then pummeling the remains with sound and wind until it was rubble. And even then, he felt it was not enough.
A day of travel brought them to the most beautiful sight either had ever seen up to then. A sprawling city that seemed to epitomize the idea of symbolism. The buildings went from stocky squared to flowing pagodas. From no-nonsense gray to bright and colorful homes of the rich. Tsukigakure, the city of the moon ran by a religion. Megami was ecstatic. He was the one who suggested they leave quickly. After all, what were the odds that the leaders of this place had no idea of the entire facility only a day’s walk from their base?
Megami had the idea to make a living by performing. He would let her take control when she wanted, and she was a showman above any other. Singing and storytelling got them enough money to buy some instruments. This led to a covered wagon for storage. This led to a bigger wagon that would be used to hold clothes, instruments, and set pieces if need be.
He had the idea to begin using the other part of her talent, the part where her singing could not only move people, but confuse their minds. The set pieces slowly dwindled as her singing could create those set pieces in the minds of the viewers. The clothes also began going down, the wagon once more moved to a smaller one. Then that too was sold for simply a good horse.
For his own part, being able to manipulate the winds was a boon when they needed to travel by water. Favorable winds got them work on ships when they needed to travel, being the only passengers on board who could demand not only free passage, but money from the captain was a treat in itself. And if that failed, pirates always wanted a wind mage who would be able to help them catch up to those same captains who denied their help earlier. Megami was displeased with this, but he pointed out sometimes one must sacrifice in order to move forward.
The passing years were not easy, but they weren’t overly hard. He became known as the Bard. A man who would visit, entertain and amaze, and then move on. And if they needed to supplement their meager income with less savory acts such as robbery or burglary, then that was a necessity. Megami never truly got used to that, but he could reason with her often enough.
He began to see the world as it was. While Megami was happy to feel the breeze and see the sun, he could only see how unjust this world was. How the majority was held back by the few elite. How humanity could be better. Much as he hated Them, he knew They were correct that reaching one’s full potential was the path to greatness.
The files they kept, were important to them. They were the only subjects who survived, it seemed. Alpha, himself. Gamma, Megami. Beta and Iota didn’t make it through the surgery. Delta and Theta did, but They noted that a mental connection formed and put them down to keep them from communicating. It made him grimly happy that he convinced Megami to keep this a secret.
Subject Epsilon was special, however. There was a note that she did not survive, but that her dna was “integrating nicely into Alpha’s body”. They couldn’t find any other information on this Epsilon but knew it wasn’t a good thing not to know what was going on. Megami wanted to go back. She wanted to know what Epsilon was like.
He had no intention of going back. That place of pain. That place of nightmares. That place whose foundations lay white, bleached in the sun of Moon. White was the color of his pain, after all.
Clan Request: None
Death/Retirement Thread: Post the thread that your character died or retired. If applicable
Old Profile: https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=773&t=56373
Old Training: https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=774&t=52426
Old Dojo: https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=775&t=52425
Special Usergroups: Admin - Keeping that.
Old Stats: Capped, ASP is at 578 per my last training.
Old OOC Rank: S
Stat Cut: None
New Stats: Capped
New OOC Rank: S
Jutsu Mastery Swaps:
I am not swapping anything. Listing them in a post below for future reference/paper trail. List breaks the dang post limit if I don't do that.
My medical jutsu will be locked until I make the swap to a mednin to regain them. I don’t wish to go through a lot of paperwork on masteries, so can we just go “Those are mastered but don’t count until then”?
Other Refunds:
Selling Vengeance Augment, Vanguard Augment, and Lucky Dodge Augment.
Name of any Contract you currently own: None, but I wish to finish my ongoing search and transfer that over afterwards. https://www.ninpocho.com/viewtopic.php?f=807&t=56962
Name of any Cursed Seals you currently own: None
Name of Kinjutsu you own: Chimera
Obtaining Chimera, and Ghost Walker ontop of Reckless. And Approval for Hyuuga.
Still actively roleplaying in any other threads? Yes. My contract search and a months old topic I'm going to let the new owner of Maki finish.
Upon death, roleplayers in ANY of your other incomplete thread(s) are to vote whether they can deal with your non-existence from the beginning of these thread(s). Whether you joined these thread(s) before or after you entered the battle that got you killed, you are still considered a part of these thread(s).
- If players vote yes, you get to move on to your next life.
- If players vote no, you must stay in those threads as if you were still alive.
ASP Items:
I didn't see a spot for this but I have the following ASP items that transfer over:
4 Extra RP Slot cards
Half The Time Card
Class Points Card
Ability Slot Card
5 Extra AE Slot Cards
