by Name: Kubi Tsuru
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Village: Kumogakure
Rank: Jonin (B-Rank)
Title: The Beast, Fist of the Cloud
Clan: N/A
Bloodline: N/A
Element(s): N/A
Skill(s): Taijutsu, Raiton Release
(4 Traded In)
Stats
1,650 EXP starter
- plus 4,000 EXP for B-rank
- plus 2,000 EXP for Trade-in
- total 7,650
Unique Abilities: Burst Strength: Through skill and pure muscular strength, Kubi can pour Chakra through his musculature and add one Rank to his Strength. His usage of this Ability is so refined, there are little to no drawbacks. Aesthetically, this surrounds his muscles in small, yellow lightning. (Freebie)
Burst Speed: Through skill and pure muscular strength, Kubi can pour Chakra through his musculature and add one Rank to his Speed. While active, Burst Speed lowers Constitution by one rank. Aesthetically, Burst Speed surrounds his muscles in small white lightning. Doing so costs 5CP to activate.
One-Handed Hand Signs: Like most experienced Shinobi, Kubi can use hand-signs with only one hand if need be. Due to his proficiency in Taijutsu and physical combat, however, its not quite an ability he is too adept in. Any Jutsu cast with this Ability is considered one Rank lower in Coordination to use when it comes to hand signs required.
Appearance: Reference 1
Reference 2
Reference 3
At first sight, Kubi appears to be a young man, lacking the rigors of daily life and hard-tested mettle of battle. Though incredibly tall, his arrogant attitude and carefree demeanor seems to suggest a person barely out of childhood, soft and lacking steel. And his body seems to prove that; muscled, a tattoo of a bear covering his chest and back, and runic symbols traveling down his arms and legs. Kubi has hardly any scars or damage to his flawless body, something obvious from his choice of attire.
But nothing could be further from the truth.
Kubi is damn near an old man; only good genetics, incredible talent, and massive chakra have kept him in his body from youth. If there’s ever any doubt about his age, one only needs to look into his eyes; the brown orbs are deep and pained, with a wisdom that far belies his physical age. They change by the moment, hardening and softening with each passing whim, but the pain stays; it is ever present, the one part of his carefree attitude he can never change. This pain is often reflected in his appearance, too; when he thinks no one is looking, when he’s alone or simply nursing a drink in a bar, the smirk disappears, to be replaced with a faraway look, like a man lost in better times.
During normal times, however, Kubi is simply an attractive man. His style of dress is what many would consider to be unprofessional, but he doesn’t care. Loose jeans and combat boots are in stark contrast to a tight T-shirt (when he cares to wear one) and a black haori with bronze trim that he wears over everything. When he can get away with it, he wears no shirt, letting the haori cover his shoulder but keeping his torso, the massive bear tattoo, exposed. In addition to the haori, the only static part of his outfit/outfits are the utility belt where he keeps what few ninja tools he uses.
Kubi can clean up good if he needs to, however. The slightly messy, perfectly tousled hair is brushed, slicked back to reveal the piercing brown eyes, and the lazily-thrown together outfit is replaced by official Jonin uniforms or, in particular fanciful occasions, even a full-blown suit. His boots never go anywhere, however, though he will negotiate and at least clean them so he isn’t tracking in mud and grime to a ballroom. The only time he will ever take off his boots for a formal occasion are meetings with formal diplomats or anything honoring dead comrades; even he wouldn’t dishonor them on such occasions.
When it comes to physical attitude, Kubi is cocky. Finding someone more cocky would be difficult, as a matter of fact. He walks like he owns the room, constantly wears a smirk that suggests he finds everything funny, and speaks with an authority and attitude one would only expect from Kage or fools. He is constantly laughing or chuckling, and very rarely lets anything slip through this mask. On the few occasions it does happen, however, the change is immense and one of the reasons he’s earned the name “The Beast”. Ferality and ferocity fight for control in his features as he releases all limits to destroy his opponent.
History: “To suffer in silence is to be dead. To suffer in company is to be a coward. Happiness must be refreshed with blood and confirmed with tears.”
These were the first words he remembered, spoken to him by a man he would come to recognize as father. Not by birth, but what else do you call the man who raised you? The man who sacrificed and fought and raged against a cruel world to provide for the child left in his care? Oh, it was a hard, harsh world he was raised in, but with the help of his father, Karako, he survived; nay, he thrived in the wilds that was his home, learning to fight and learning to love at the hand of Karako. Even now, he thinks on fond memories of the long, cold night spent honing his body, and the days he spent traveling alongside Karako, and often finds himself wishing for the quiet companionship and sense of achievement that came with those hard times.
It’s not something one can easily find within the confines of a city.
Vague memories of a shabby house and a man who he could only assume to be his birth father occasionally flicker through his mind, but he pays them no mind; its a life he barely lived, and all he could remember of a life he never knew. He was only a toddler when his father, in a brilliant flash of inspiration, told the then-five year old to go out in the woods and not come back until he got stronger. Being but a child, this meant Kubi did not return. It rained that night, and the cold and the darkness and, most of all, the fear, consumed him.
It was the closest he’d ever been to death, and Karako saved him.
Since then, he’s owed that man a debt of gratitude and vowed, to his dying breath, to serve and protect him. Bold words from a child, but he lived up to it to the best he could. He worked hard, growing strong under the tutelage of Karako and learning the ways of the Ninja. Karako, a powerful man, left the hierarchy of the Villages long ago, instead making a living among the beautiful wilderness that surrounds the Great Villages. Here, he was king and ruler, eeking out a living among the ferns and fauna. And with him, his dutiful student.
Under the tutelage of Karako, Kubi was taught the ways of the ninja; though he had little to no aptitude for most forms of Ninjutsu or Genjutsu, his physical aptitude and ability to use powerful Raiton at a young age marked him on the path for greatness. Under the careful, gentle hand of his adoptive father, Kubi grew up to be a gentle, kind young man, though with the abrasiveness and lack of social graces his pseudo-father was infamous for. His own massive size soon made him nearly as infamous as his father; but typically, he was more well-known for his boisterous attitude and tendency to get into trouble than any ability of his own.
On the eve of his 16th birthday, however, tragedy struck.
Returning home one day, Kubi found his childhood home burned, cinders filling the forest air with an intensity that threatened the sanctity of the wood. His father - eternal, endearing, always there for him - was nowhere to be found. Only Karako’s Amulet, the bronze seared on one side where the fire caught it, and the burned remnants of what once was a beautiful cottage. A lesser man would break down in tears, and even stronger men would rage and be inconsolable. But Kubi, he quietly took it, gathered the amulet, swore a silent oath to get revenge, and left the only home he’d ever known.
Over the next ten years, the teenager grew into a young man; then, as time and training wore him down, he became a grizzled veteran, in an almost literal sense. Though he never fought in war in the traditional sense, his time spent wandering the world (and seeking out those that killed his master) giving him an inherent sense of combat and honing his abilities to levels beyond even his master. His combination of his physical superiority, cunning intellect, and combination of skill and power soon proved him to be a formidable foe. And yet despite all his power and infamy, all his years of searching and destroying and fighting, there are still several murderers that escaped.
For years, many of them, he lived a life of vengeance, one of battle and blood and rage. He lived many lifetimes during this time, aging beyond his years. His death was inevitable, after all, and facing his own mortality many times hardened him into something less than man. A Beast, if you will. It was in this state, clothes ragged, hair matted, that he first met Misaki. She was beautiful, sunshine in the dark pit of his life. And suddenly, for the first time in what seemed like his entire life, he began to feel again.
Their romance was like everything in his life; as burning hot as a raging wildfire and twice as hot. But unlike many other things his life had brought him, this seemed fated to last forever. It wawa’t long before The Beast joined the newly-founded Kumogakure, the Village Hidden in the Clouds. But Kubi didn’t care if they lived in the swamp and reenacted one of the old fairy tales his father used to tell him about. For one of the very few times in his life, he was happy. Together, he and Misaki established a life together, working alongside each other as Jonin of the fledgeling Village.
That soon came to a tragic end.
An attack, as they outside the Village walls. They shouldn’t have been, Misaki was eight months pregnant, but she was a stubborn one. Sidelined by the Kage, she was frustrated and insisted on gathering herbs. For all intents and purposes, something even a pregnant woman could accomplish. And they split up, with the promise to yell if she was in trouble. Kubi was just out of sight, gathering herbs as quick as he could; something was gnawing at him, something was wrong. He had to get back!
Misaki had never yelled.
Her burnt and twisted body in his arms, the only part of her still moving were her charred and black lips. Tears dripped freely down his face, scoring lines down the body of his love. A single hand, burnt beyond recognition, pressed against his face. Her lips moved, framing the three words he’s always wanted in his life. And with a whisper, and a shuddering gasp, his life crumbled before his eyes.
That was five years ago, and still the pain has burrowed deep into his heart, like a shard of glass that cannot be removed. It is the only thing holding his shattered psyche together. Vengeance, and a desire to do good for the Village, are what lets him wake up in the morning. And most recently, the squad he was assigned.
Personality: Kubi is a man of opposites. He is joy and vengeance, a man filled with enough love to unite a village but enough rage to tear it apart by hand. Oh, he has experienced a lot in his life, several lifetimes of horrors and joys weighing him down, a fact he has quite successfully hid from most everyone who has gotten close to him. He hates the pity, he hates the attention that comes from people that know his past. He’d much rather they know him as a criminal and a traitor than a broken shadow of a man.
And he is; that is to say, he is a broken man. If anyone knew him before, his smile was wider, his laugh broader, his entire demeanor simply … happier. Before he lost his wife, before his entire future burnt to a crisp in his arms, before he started on the path that would eventually lead to the nickname “The Beast.” Though he wears a happy face, there is nothing but rage beneath the surface; not sadness, no, he mourned, he drank his sorrows away, like one should. But revenge was not had, the fires of destruction yet to be clenched in his soul.
But he isn’t an angry person; that is, he isn’t liable to off and punch a young Genin simply for mouthing offf. His anger and lust for revenge are internalized, focused on bettering himself and becoming the strongest he could be so that when the day comes he can sate his revenge, he’ll be more than qualified to do so. It is this dedication, and almost psychological need to stay busy, that is the reason he became a teacher in the first place. Without something to do, he simply stews on his rage and is eaten by it, and if something stews long enough, it becomes bitter.
When it comes to everyday interactions, Kubi is typically crass and as rude as one can imagine, assigning less-than-flattering nicknames to everybody he works with and interacts with on a daily basis. He is also an incredible flirt, to both sexes, so long as they are of age and breathing. He really isn’t picky, though on that note, he is quite respectful, keeping his hands free and to himself and will, in fact, come to the defense of those that are wrongly treated. He hates people who bully for no reason, particularly the weak and helpless, such as women and children.
Kubi is a misogynist in that regard; not that he thinks women are helpless, far from it. It’s actually quite a bit of an idolization. Women are the future, far too important and capable to be in the line of fire. They deserve, above all things, to be treated with the dignity and respect the future deserves. This idolization transfers into the way he fights; against a girl, he will pull his punches, never fully delivering, and try to flirt or gamble his way out of it; it is these kinds of fights he would be more than happy to lose. This same idolization applies to children; he loves children, and will outright commit treason if it went against the better interests of women or children.
In combat, the happy-go-lucky demeanor is mostly gone; though he still makes jokes and insults people to the best of his rather prodigious ability, this is to enrage the opponent, make them let down their guard so that he can take advantage of their lapse in temper. When in a real fight, not a spar or a training session, his punches are deadly, each one designed and honed by decades of fighting to deliver the most deadly force imaginable. And he doesn’t hold back; something is danger if he’s fighting, be it life or limb or the sanctity of the village his wife died defending, so he will give it his all to defend it as well.
Kubi isn’t perfect; though fearless in nearly all occasions, he does have a few, unique, fears. He despises the dark due to his traumatic past, and unless he’ with someone, will even go so far as to not sleep; in dark situations, Kubi will lash out, destroying everything in his path if he can’t get some light going. Darkened streets are fine for him, as is the subtle darkness of the wood; but the smothering darkness that comes with being indoors with no company, this just terrifies him. In addition to the dark, Kubi hates anything that is too pale for a human, either artificially or otherwise. And though not a proper fear, he also despises Katon, as it was a Katon user that killed his wife and set him on his current path in life.
Roleplay Sample: The first thing she noticed was the faint taste of alcohol on her lips, always a sign of regret. The rancid taste of old wine laid in her mouth like a blanket of blurry memories, and as she opened her bleary eyes and smacked her lips, she made the oath made a thousand times; I’m never drinking again. The light streaming through the windows felt like daggers in her eyes and she winced, bringing a hand up to block the dreaded beams from wreaking carnage on her mind. Already, things were a blur, last night’s events presenting itself only in occasional flashes of embarrassing insight.
The second thing she noticed was her nudity, which was odd in itself. She never slept in the nude, that was a surefire way to be taken by surprise. And she hated being taken by surprise. The sheet curved around her form, blankets long discarded on the ground, and her long legs exposed to the cold air streaming in through the window. As her eyes adjusted to the bright light beaming down through the bay window behind the bed, she noticed a rather curious bruise on her hip. A groan broke through her lips, bringing with it the taste of bile and old wine. She clasped a hand over her mouth and in an instant was out of the bed, bare feet pattering on the cold marble to the bathroom.
The third thing she noticed was the pain. There was a soreness in her core, altogether unfamiliar, something she hadn’t felt in years. Each movement brought with it a pounding in her head and intensified the pain in her midsection, but somehow, she made it to the toilet, ejecting the contents of last night's dinner and undigested wine. With a groan, she leaned against the toilet seat, the cool porcelain soothing to her pounding head, at least. By Ala’khir, she felt awful. A soreness presented itself in her neck, and with a wince, she twisted her muscles, exposing the injured skin. Using the nearby sink, she pulled herself up to look in the mirror. A curious-shaped bruise seemed to be the source, and as she wracked her mind for the source, a quick flash came to her, of hot lips against her neck and a hand on her-
Her head snapped upwards and a curse leapt from her lips. She did not. She couldn’t. It would be crass, completely against protocol. She slightly shivered as a cold wind blew across her skin, but she ignored the sensation, instead focusing on what was going to be one of the most humiliating moments of her life; confronting the mistakes of last night. Ala’khir, what was she going to say? ‘Sorry, I get whorish when drunk?’ Thankfully, Kitty was still asleep so she couldn’t mock her for that particular thought.
Her reflection seemed to reveal her inner turmoil. She was paler than normal, likely a result of the hangover currently making it hard to think, and her long black hair, typically pin straight, was messy, knotted at the top and twisted at the back. As she fought in vain with the knot, another image presented itself, of a strong-handed individual yanking her back by the hair and of sheer, unadulterated pleasure. Ugh. Not something she wanted to feel right now, it’s only gonna make it harder to kick the guy out.
She gripped the edge of the sink briefly, closing her sapphire eyes for a brief second before pushing away. Well, she had to get this over with eventually; may as well do it quickly so she can rectify whatever damage she caused the day before. She retraced her steps from earlier, back into the mess of a bedroom; she had to say one thing, it certainly looked as if it wasn’t restricted to the bed. She sighed at this; the maids were going to have a field day. She shouldn’t be so nervous; this wasn’t nearly the most terrifying thing she’s ever done. It was as if something was holding her back, as if some small part of her knew what was happening before she did.
“Hey.”
Her voice rang out across the bedroom she called her own, the surprisingly feminine decorations doing little to absorb the sound. It did rouse the man in the bed, though, who turned to face the sound, though still asleep. It was as if she had been struck by a livewire, freezing her body in place in shock. Nearby, the slightly-transparent form of her lesser half stirred, the white dress clinging to her form much in the way the sheets did before, but even as Kitty stood up and joined Katrina in shock, she didn’t move. For the face staring up at them was plastered across a dozen countries, most wanted in several more, the subject of a thousand crimes.
It was …
”Jack.”
The voice came from the shadows of his apartment outside New York City. All her sources had told him he would be here, something required since she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since that fateful day three months ago, almost exactly on the dot. The slight breeze of an open window signalled her entrance point, but that was quickly eclipsed by a sudden and irrepressibly angry scream. Katrina sighed as Kitty once again tried to injure her lover - or ex-lover, whatever their relationship status is - by throwing punches at him, failing to conclude in her addled mind that her transparent form simply cannot connect with even an Archadian body. This was tough. Over the next few days since the “Incident’, as she called it, the details of the night came back to her, though slightly blurred at the edges and tinted the color of red wine.
He was standing there, looking charming, dashing in a suit, radiating the power he rarely failed to hide. Katrina could sense it, and though Kitty begged to take over her body to greet her boyfriend, they were both inebriated, the latter agreeing with a drunken giggle. The party was a success, of course, the dozen or so individuals there trusting their leader to take care of this party crasher. But instead, her hair down and curled into waves, ignorant of her similarity to her dimensional sister, she asked him to dance. The feeling of his power so close, his strong hands on her hips, sent flurries of heat down her body-
She shook her head, taking herself out of the memory. Now simply wasn’t the time to be thinking about this. With another sigh, Katrina leaped down from the windowsill, landing without a sound. A flare of orange lit up her body and suddenly Kitty was wrapped in a similarly-colored circlet, her body forced to the ground by Katrina’s hand. Her massless form could easily be stopped for several hours at this point if she so desired … hopefully, this wouldn’t take that long. She didn’t think she could handle such a long conversation.
Katrina was dressed for combat; swords strapped to her side, black cloth masking her form. The only difference would be the cloth typically hiding her face was pulled down around her neck. Well, that, and the lack of her utility belt. The golden, multi-pocketed belt was Katrina’s pride and joy, and in the vast majority of cases, would never leave home without it. But more than that, as she moved into the light, she seemed … ill, almost. Deep shadows were under her eyes, no make-up on her lips or nails, and her hair, though straight, was unbrushed, causing it to fall in crazy wrinkles around her face.
Katrina couldn’t do this; she just couldn’t! This was an … well, an evil man. How, by Ala’khir’s many legs, is she supposed to tell him she was … but she couldn’t even process the thought. Even now, it seemed impossible, but the slowly growing thing inside her told a different story. Unbidden, her hand flew to her stomach; she knew it was there, so perhaps that’s why she felt a small bump through the thin material, as if this child was as eager to get out of her as she was unwilling to have this conversation. Her legs almost gave out, and she collapsed onto the nearest surface, holding her hands. She was so tired … sleep had been a hard thing to come by these days. The morning sickness, and Kitty constantly screaming and yelling yet unable to do anything …
Katrina took a steadying breath and looked up, tears shining bright in her sapphire eyes. Tears. How embarrassing, but she had found herself so damn emotional lately. A dainty finger wiped away one small droplet, flinging it to the ground without a thought. There was nothing to it but to leap in, both feet forward.
”Jack, I …” She looked at him, wherever he may be; there was no sign of the typical arrogance or pretentious condescension she normally addressed him with. Her tone was almost pleading, as if begging him to do ... something, she didn’t know what. Forgive her for telling him? For sleeping with him? She didn’t know.. ”Oh by Ala’khir, I’m pregnant with your child, Jack!”
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Village: Kumogakure
Rank: Jonin (B-Rank)
Title: The Beast, Fist of the Cloud
Clan: N/A
Bloodline: N/A
Element(s): N/A
Skill(s): Taijutsu, Raiton Release
(4 Traded In)
Stats
- Strength: B [950]
- Constitution: B [950]
- Stamina: B [950]
- Speed: B [950]
- Coordination: B [950]
- Intelligence: B [950]
- Perception: A [1,650]
- 300 XP unspent
1,650 EXP starter
- plus 4,000 EXP for B-rank
- plus 2,000 EXP for Trade-in
- total 7,650
Unique Abilities: Burst Strength: Through skill and pure muscular strength, Kubi can pour Chakra through his musculature and add one Rank to his Strength. His usage of this Ability is so refined, there are little to no drawbacks. Aesthetically, this surrounds his muscles in small, yellow lightning. (Freebie)
Burst Speed: Through skill and pure muscular strength, Kubi can pour Chakra through his musculature and add one Rank to his Speed. While active, Burst Speed lowers Constitution by one rank. Aesthetically, Burst Speed surrounds his muscles in small white lightning. Doing so costs 5CP to activate.
One-Handed Hand Signs: Like most experienced Shinobi, Kubi can use hand-signs with only one hand if need be. Due to his proficiency in Taijutsu and physical combat, however, its not quite an ability he is too adept in. Any Jutsu cast with this Ability is considered one Rank lower in Coordination to use when it comes to hand signs required.
Appearance: Reference 1
Reference 2
Reference 3
At first sight, Kubi appears to be a young man, lacking the rigors of daily life and hard-tested mettle of battle. Though incredibly tall, his arrogant attitude and carefree demeanor seems to suggest a person barely out of childhood, soft and lacking steel. And his body seems to prove that; muscled, a tattoo of a bear covering his chest and back, and runic symbols traveling down his arms and legs. Kubi has hardly any scars or damage to his flawless body, something obvious from his choice of attire.
But nothing could be further from the truth.
Kubi is damn near an old man; only good genetics, incredible talent, and massive chakra have kept him in his body from youth. If there’s ever any doubt about his age, one only needs to look into his eyes; the brown orbs are deep and pained, with a wisdom that far belies his physical age. They change by the moment, hardening and softening with each passing whim, but the pain stays; it is ever present, the one part of his carefree attitude he can never change. This pain is often reflected in his appearance, too; when he thinks no one is looking, when he’s alone or simply nursing a drink in a bar, the smirk disappears, to be replaced with a faraway look, like a man lost in better times.
During normal times, however, Kubi is simply an attractive man. His style of dress is what many would consider to be unprofessional, but he doesn’t care. Loose jeans and combat boots are in stark contrast to a tight T-shirt (when he cares to wear one) and a black haori with bronze trim that he wears over everything. When he can get away with it, he wears no shirt, letting the haori cover his shoulder but keeping his torso, the massive bear tattoo, exposed. In addition to the haori, the only static part of his outfit/outfits are the utility belt where he keeps what few ninja tools he uses.
Kubi can clean up good if he needs to, however. The slightly messy, perfectly tousled hair is brushed, slicked back to reveal the piercing brown eyes, and the lazily-thrown together outfit is replaced by official Jonin uniforms or, in particular fanciful occasions, even a full-blown suit. His boots never go anywhere, however, though he will negotiate and at least clean them so he isn’t tracking in mud and grime to a ballroom. The only time he will ever take off his boots for a formal occasion are meetings with formal diplomats or anything honoring dead comrades; even he wouldn’t dishonor them on such occasions.
When it comes to physical attitude, Kubi is cocky. Finding someone more cocky would be difficult, as a matter of fact. He walks like he owns the room, constantly wears a smirk that suggests he finds everything funny, and speaks with an authority and attitude one would only expect from Kage or fools. He is constantly laughing or chuckling, and very rarely lets anything slip through this mask. On the few occasions it does happen, however, the change is immense and one of the reasons he’s earned the name “The Beast”. Ferality and ferocity fight for control in his features as he releases all limits to destroy his opponent.
History: “To suffer in silence is to be dead. To suffer in company is to be a coward. Happiness must be refreshed with blood and confirmed with tears.”
These were the first words he remembered, spoken to him by a man he would come to recognize as father. Not by birth, but what else do you call the man who raised you? The man who sacrificed and fought and raged against a cruel world to provide for the child left in his care? Oh, it was a hard, harsh world he was raised in, but with the help of his father, Karako, he survived; nay, he thrived in the wilds that was his home, learning to fight and learning to love at the hand of Karako. Even now, he thinks on fond memories of the long, cold night spent honing his body, and the days he spent traveling alongside Karako, and often finds himself wishing for the quiet companionship and sense of achievement that came with those hard times.
It’s not something one can easily find within the confines of a city.
Vague memories of a shabby house and a man who he could only assume to be his birth father occasionally flicker through his mind, but he pays them no mind; its a life he barely lived, and all he could remember of a life he never knew. He was only a toddler when his father, in a brilliant flash of inspiration, told the then-five year old to go out in the woods and not come back until he got stronger. Being but a child, this meant Kubi did not return. It rained that night, and the cold and the darkness and, most of all, the fear, consumed him.
It was the closest he’d ever been to death, and Karako saved him.
Since then, he’s owed that man a debt of gratitude and vowed, to his dying breath, to serve and protect him. Bold words from a child, but he lived up to it to the best he could. He worked hard, growing strong under the tutelage of Karako and learning the ways of the Ninja. Karako, a powerful man, left the hierarchy of the Villages long ago, instead making a living among the beautiful wilderness that surrounds the Great Villages. Here, he was king and ruler, eeking out a living among the ferns and fauna. And with him, his dutiful student.
Under the tutelage of Karako, Kubi was taught the ways of the ninja; though he had little to no aptitude for most forms of Ninjutsu or Genjutsu, his physical aptitude and ability to use powerful Raiton at a young age marked him on the path for greatness. Under the careful, gentle hand of his adoptive father, Kubi grew up to be a gentle, kind young man, though with the abrasiveness and lack of social graces his pseudo-father was infamous for. His own massive size soon made him nearly as infamous as his father; but typically, he was more well-known for his boisterous attitude and tendency to get into trouble than any ability of his own.
On the eve of his 16th birthday, however, tragedy struck.
Returning home one day, Kubi found his childhood home burned, cinders filling the forest air with an intensity that threatened the sanctity of the wood. His father - eternal, endearing, always there for him - was nowhere to be found. Only Karako’s Amulet, the bronze seared on one side where the fire caught it, and the burned remnants of what once was a beautiful cottage. A lesser man would break down in tears, and even stronger men would rage and be inconsolable. But Kubi, he quietly took it, gathered the amulet, swore a silent oath to get revenge, and left the only home he’d ever known.
Over the next ten years, the teenager grew into a young man; then, as time and training wore him down, he became a grizzled veteran, in an almost literal sense. Though he never fought in war in the traditional sense, his time spent wandering the world (and seeking out those that killed his master) giving him an inherent sense of combat and honing his abilities to levels beyond even his master. His combination of his physical superiority, cunning intellect, and combination of skill and power soon proved him to be a formidable foe. And yet despite all his power and infamy, all his years of searching and destroying and fighting, there are still several murderers that escaped.
For years, many of them, he lived a life of vengeance, one of battle and blood and rage. He lived many lifetimes during this time, aging beyond his years. His death was inevitable, after all, and facing his own mortality many times hardened him into something less than man. A Beast, if you will. It was in this state, clothes ragged, hair matted, that he first met Misaki. She was beautiful, sunshine in the dark pit of his life. And suddenly, for the first time in what seemed like his entire life, he began to feel again.
Their romance was like everything in his life; as burning hot as a raging wildfire and twice as hot. But unlike many other things his life had brought him, this seemed fated to last forever. It wawa’t long before The Beast joined the newly-founded Kumogakure, the Village Hidden in the Clouds. But Kubi didn’t care if they lived in the swamp and reenacted one of the old fairy tales his father used to tell him about. For one of the very few times in his life, he was happy. Together, he and Misaki established a life together, working alongside each other as Jonin of the fledgeling Village.
That soon came to a tragic end.
An attack, as they outside the Village walls. They shouldn’t have been, Misaki was eight months pregnant, but she was a stubborn one. Sidelined by the Kage, she was frustrated and insisted on gathering herbs. For all intents and purposes, something even a pregnant woman could accomplish. And they split up, with the promise to yell if she was in trouble. Kubi was just out of sight, gathering herbs as quick as he could; something was gnawing at him, something was wrong. He had to get back!
Misaki had never yelled.
Her burnt and twisted body in his arms, the only part of her still moving were her charred and black lips. Tears dripped freely down his face, scoring lines down the body of his love. A single hand, burnt beyond recognition, pressed against his face. Her lips moved, framing the three words he’s always wanted in his life. And with a whisper, and a shuddering gasp, his life crumbled before his eyes.
That was five years ago, and still the pain has burrowed deep into his heart, like a shard of glass that cannot be removed. It is the only thing holding his shattered psyche together. Vengeance, and a desire to do good for the Village, are what lets him wake up in the morning. And most recently, the squad he was assigned.
Personality: Kubi is a man of opposites. He is joy and vengeance, a man filled with enough love to unite a village but enough rage to tear it apart by hand. Oh, he has experienced a lot in his life, several lifetimes of horrors and joys weighing him down, a fact he has quite successfully hid from most everyone who has gotten close to him. He hates the pity, he hates the attention that comes from people that know his past. He’d much rather they know him as a criminal and a traitor than a broken shadow of a man.
And he is; that is to say, he is a broken man. If anyone knew him before, his smile was wider, his laugh broader, his entire demeanor simply … happier. Before he lost his wife, before his entire future burnt to a crisp in his arms, before he started on the path that would eventually lead to the nickname “The Beast.” Though he wears a happy face, there is nothing but rage beneath the surface; not sadness, no, he mourned, he drank his sorrows away, like one should. But revenge was not had, the fires of destruction yet to be clenched in his soul.
But he isn’t an angry person; that is, he isn’t liable to off and punch a young Genin simply for mouthing offf. His anger and lust for revenge are internalized, focused on bettering himself and becoming the strongest he could be so that when the day comes he can sate his revenge, he’ll be more than qualified to do so. It is this dedication, and almost psychological need to stay busy, that is the reason he became a teacher in the first place. Without something to do, he simply stews on his rage and is eaten by it, and if something stews long enough, it becomes bitter.
When it comes to everyday interactions, Kubi is typically crass and as rude as one can imagine, assigning less-than-flattering nicknames to everybody he works with and interacts with on a daily basis. He is also an incredible flirt, to both sexes, so long as they are of age and breathing. He really isn’t picky, though on that note, he is quite respectful, keeping his hands free and to himself and will, in fact, come to the defense of those that are wrongly treated. He hates people who bully for no reason, particularly the weak and helpless, such as women and children.
Kubi is a misogynist in that regard; not that he thinks women are helpless, far from it. It’s actually quite a bit of an idolization. Women are the future, far too important and capable to be in the line of fire. They deserve, above all things, to be treated with the dignity and respect the future deserves. This idolization transfers into the way he fights; against a girl, he will pull his punches, never fully delivering, and try to flirt or gamble his way out of it; it is these kinds of fights he would be more than happy to lose. This same idolization applies to children; he loves children, and will outright commit treason if it went against the better interests of women or children.
In combat, the happy-go-lucky demeanor is mostly gone; though he still makes jokes and insults people to the best of his rather prodigious ability, this is to enrage the opponent, make them let down their guard so that he can take advantage of their lapse in temper. When in a real fight, not a spar or a training session, his punches are deadly, each one designed and honed by decades of fighting to deliver the most deadly force imaginable. And he doesn’t hold back; something is danger if he’s fighting, be it life or limb or the sanctity of the village his wife died defending, so he will give it his all to defend it as well.
Kubi isn’t perfect; though fearless in nearly all occasions, he does have a few, unique, fears. He despises the dark due to his traumatic past, and unless he’ with someone, will even go so far as to not sleep; in dark situations, Kubi will lash out, destroying everything in his path if he can’t get some light going. Darkened streets are fine for him, as is the subtle darkness of the wood; but the smothering darkness that comes with being indoors with no company, this just terrifies him. In addition to the dark, Kubi hates anything that is too pale for a human, either artificially or otherwise. And though not a proper fear, he also despises Katon, as it was a Katon user that killed his wife and set him on his current path in life.
Roleplay Sample: The first thing she noticed was the faint taste of alcohol on her lips, always a sign of regret. The rancid taste of old wine laid in her mouth like a blanket of blurry memories, and as she opened her bleary eyes and smacked her lips, she made the oath made a thousand times; I’m never drinking again. The light streaming through the windows felt like daggers in her eyes and she winced, bringing a hand up to block the dreaded beams from wreaking carnage on her mind. Already, things were a blur, last night’s events presenting itself only in occasional flashes of embarrassing insight.
The second thing she noticed was her nudity, which was odd in itself. She never slept in the nude, that was a surefire way to be taken by surprise. And she hated being taken by surprise. The sheet curved around her form, blankets long discarded on the ground, and her long legs exposed to the cold air streaming in through the window. As her eyes adjusted to the bright light beaming down through the bay window behind the bed, she noticed a rather curious bruise on her hip. A groan broke through her lips, bringing with it the taste of bile and old wine. She clasped a hand over her mouth and in an instant was out of the bed, bare feet pattering on the cold marble to the bathroom.
The third thing she noticed was the pain. There was a soreness in her core, altogether unfamiliar, something she hadn’t felt in years. Each movement brought with it a pounding in her head and intensified the pain in her midsection, but somehow, she made it to the toilet, ejecting the contents of last night's dinner and undigested wine. With a groan, she leaned against the toilet seat, the cool porcelain soothing to her pounding head, at least. By Ala’khir, she felt awful. A soreness presented itself in her neck, and with a wince, she twisted her muscles, exposing the injured skin. Using the nearby sink, she pulled herself up to look in the mirror. A curious-shaped bruise seemed to be the source, and as she wracked her mind for the source, a quick flash came to her, of hot lips against her neck and a hand on her-
Her head snapped upwards and a curse leapt from her lips. She did not. She couldn’t. It would be crass, completely against protocol. She slightly shivered as a cold wind blew across her skin, but she ignored the sensation, instead focusing on what was going to be one of the most humiliating moments of her life; confronting the mistakes of last night. Ala’khir, what was she going to say? ‘Sorry, I get whorish when drunk?’ Thankfully, Kitty was still asleep so she couldn’t mock her for that particular thought.
Her reflection seemed to reveal her inner turmoil. She was paler than normal, likely a result of the hangover currently making it hard to think, and her long black hair, typically pin straight, was messy, knotted at the top and twisted at the back. As she fought in vain with the knot, another image presented itself, of a strong-handed individual yanking her back by the hair and of sheer, unadulterated pleasure. Ugh. Not something she wanted to feel right now, it’s only gonna make it harder to kick the guy out.
She gripped the edge of the sink briefly, closing her sapphire eyes for a brief second before pushing away. Well, she had to get this over with eventually; may as well do it quickly so she can rectify whatever damage she caused the day before. She retraced her steps from earlier, back into the mess of a bedroom; she had to say one thing, it certainly looked as if it wasn’t restricted to the bed. She sighed at this; the maids were going to have a field day. She shouldn’t be so nervous; this wasn’t nearly the most terrifying thing she’s ever done. It was as if something was holding her back, as if some small part of her knew what was happening before she did.
“Hey.”
Her voice rang out across the bedroom she called her own, the surprisingly feminine decorations doing little to absorb the sound. It did rouse the man in the bed, though, who turned to face the sound, though still asleep. It was as if she had been struck by a livewire, freezing her body in place in shock. Nearby, the slightly-transparent form of her lesser half stirred, the white dress clinging to her form much in the way the sheets did before, but even as Kitty stood up and joined Katrina in shock, she didn’t move. For the face staring up at them was plastered across a dozen countries, most wanted in several more, the subject of a thousand crimes.
It was …
”Jack.”
The voice came from the shadows of his apartment outside New York City. All her sources had told him he would be here, something required since she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since that fateful day three months ago, almost exactly on the dot. The slight breeze of an open window signalled her entrance point, but that was quickly eclipsed by a sudden and irrepressibly angry scream. Katrina sighed as Kitty once again tried to injure her lover - or ex-lover, whatever their relationship status is - by throwing punches at him, failing to conclude in her addled mind that her transparent form simply cannot connect with even an Archadian body. This was tough. Over the next few days since the “Incident’, as she called it, the details of the night came back to her, though slightly blurred at the edges and tinted the color of red wine.
He was standing there, looking charming, dashing in a suit, radiating the power he rarely failed to hide. Katrina could sense it, and though Kitty begged to take over her body to greet her boyfriend, they were both inebriated, the latter agreeing with a drunken giggle. The party was a success, of course, the dozen or so individuals there trusting their leader to take care of this party crasher. But instead, her hair down and curled into waves, ignorant of her similarity to her dimensional sister, she asked him to dance. The feeling of his power so close, his strong hands on her hips, sent flurries of heat down her body-
She shook her head, taking herself out of the memory. Now simply wasn’t the time to be thinking about this. With another sigh, Katrina leaped down from the windowsill, landing without a sound. A flare of orange lit up her body and suddenly Kitty was wrapped in a similarly-colored circlet, her body forced to the ground by Katrina’s hand. Her massless form could easily be stopped for several hours at this point if she so desired … hopefully, this wouldn’t take that long. She didn’t think she could handle such a long conversation.
Katrina was dressed for combat; swords strapped to her side, black cloth masking her form. The only difference would be the cloth typically hiding her face was pulled down around her neck. Well, that, and the lack of her utility belt. The golden, multi-pocketed belt was Katrina’s pride and joy, and in the vast majority of cases, would never leave home without it. But more than that, as she moved into the light, she seemed … ill, almost. Deep shadows were under her eyes, no make-up on her lips or nails, and her hair, though straight, was unbrushed, causing it to fall in crazy wrinkles around her face.
Katrina couldn’t do this; she just couldn’t! This was an … well, an evil man. How, by Ala’khir’s many legs, is she supposed to tell him she was … but she couldn’t even process the thought. Even now, it seemed impossible, but the slowly growing thing inside her told a different story. Unbidden, her hand flew to her stomach; she knew it was there, so perhaps that’s why she felt a small bump through the thin material, as if this child was as eager to get out of her as she was unwilling to have this conversation. Her legs almost gave out, and she collapsed onto the nearest surface, holding her hands. She was so tired … sleep had been a hard thing to come by these days. The morning sickness, and Kitty constantly screaming and yelling yet unable to do anything …
Katrina took a steadying breath and looked up, tears shining bright in her sapphire eyes. Tears. How embarrassing, but she had found herself so damn emotional lately. A dainty finger wiped away one small droplet, flinging it to the ground without a thought. There was nothing to it but to leap in, both feet forward.
”Jack, I …” She looked at him, wherever he may be; there was no sign of the typical arrogance or pretentious condescension she normally addressed him with. Her tone was almost pleading, as if begging him to do ... something, she didn’t know what. Forgive her for telling him? For sleeping with him? She didn’t know.. ”Oh by Ala’khir, I’m pregnant with your child, Jack!”
Last edited by Kubi Tsuru on Fri Mar 12, 2021 7:54 pm; edited 3 times in total (Reason for editing : Fixing XP numbers)
