Tosa's Templates

Age : 30 Posts : 311

Marshmellow?

The wind was irresponsive. Quietly, the air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension that could not be defined. The Eagle wearily looked around, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied the bustling city of Wind Reach. Presently, he was in the company of his fellow Wind Eagles and they were praising the skies under the unexpected, but welcomed presence of Syna. Her bright rays had pierced the smog of winter to deliver a rare day of sunshine to the Inarta and his colony was determined to thank the gods for such a gift. As per usual, Syna merely smiled down on them; their aerodynamic forms twirling as they rode thermal after thermal; dipping and diving, climbing and descending in an intricate tale of connection. For a single moment, these creatures were connected to beings that they could hardly understand or even dream of coming close to in power. Zulrav, although not present, lifted their spirits heaven bound until Wingard knew that if there was nothing else after this moment, he would die happy.

This joyous flight seemed to be hampered, however. An instinctual feeling of wariness had settled into the Kelvic’s bones, niggling at his conscious to escape the rocky mountains of his home. His fellow raptures seemed to carry the same sentiment, he noted, as they soared above Mt. Skyinarta but refused to land, even after spending many chimes exercising. Some of the elder Eagles eventually gave in and settled back to the earth, but Wingard was not certain. Something was off. The winds that usually whispered gossip in a garbled voice to his ears was dead in its silence and the Eagle secretly wondered if something bad was about to happen. Frowning, the Wind Eagle finished his final flight pattern in their collaborative dance and bowed out, his form dipping to the right as he left. It would do him no good to avoid such feelings; perhaps it would be best if he simply returned home and investigated.

Landing at the outcropping of stone that led to his aerie, Wingard seamlessly transformed into his familiar human form, the sensation of cool stone beneath his feet a pleasant reminder of his nakedness. Smiling absently, he recalled the moment that such a thought would not have existed in his mind, Ainyi’s peaked cheeks a pleasant memory. The young Chiet’s embarrassment and then forced detachment over his state of dress was still rather humourous to the Eagle, and he idly contemplated if he should pay her a visit again. She was working from what he recalled, and perhaps the company of another would settle his ill-feelings. Pulling on a pair of bryda and his katinu, the russet-haired man stuffed his feet into his boots and began making the short journey to the Processing Center on foot.

Stepping out onto the path did nothing to ease his growing tension, however. His fellow neighbours were nowhere to be found and his keen ears picked up the distinctive sound of rising voices and skirmishes farther down. Alarmed, the Kelvic spun around and dove back into his aerie, retrieving the lone sword that lay guard at its entry. Strapping it to his body, he worked his legs into a run, aiming to figure out what the petch was going on. Fights often broke out in the winter, so it was hardly an uncommon occurrence that would warrant such expediency from him, but Wingard’s ill-feelings were pushing him forward. The initial sight of three Deks armed with crude weapons harassing two Endal hardly caused him to pause. His neighbours were easily eliminating the threat; their bodies nourished and strong. Letting out a quiet breath he hadn’t really realized he was holding, the Kelvic nodded his head in acknowledgement to the patrol team and continued on his way.

The trepidation was still present in the Eagle’s system, however. Keeping his eyes open for anymore conflict, he absentmindedly was impressed that the Dek had made it that far up the mountain. Generally, they didn’t ever bother coming that high up as it usually just led to ridicule and abuse, but it seemed that the hopelessness they faced was breeding courage – or idiocy. Entering the Processing Center, Wingard raked his eyes over the familiar setting. It seemed empty aside from the workers; the sounds of chains and woodcutting the only sounds he could register. Looking around, he spotted a familiar shade of red hair – a feat that could be considered impressive considering that red hair was practically the only colour that decorated the heads of every Inartan. Cackling inwardly at his enhanced eyesight, the Eagle slowly began making his way over, noting the way his prey was focusing on one thing or another.

A delightful wrinkle was imprinting itself on her skin, her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated. Ensuring the silence of his steps, he shielded his body from her view behind tables and hanging chains, hoping that the movement would obscure his figure. As he skirted behind her, utilizing the creeping shadows as well, he took the final steps towards her and rested his nose a mere centimeter or two from her ear. Until this point, he had been holding his breath, knowing that such a shift of air around her would alert her of his presence. He smiled rather mischievously before saying in a husky, masculine voice, “Boo.”

You wish you could match this.

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TEXT HERE.

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Age : 94 Posts : 369

Gotta say, that's pretty cool

Age : 30 Posts : 311

The bright morning rays of the sun peeked through the curtains. Slowly, the beams of light crept through the darkened room, revealing a rumpled bed. As one drew closer, a distinguishable arm thrown carelessly over the covers seemed to materialize, the tattooed appendage settling rather awkwardly over a relaxed face. Deep in slumber, the aristocratic features of Sai, Tosatsu were lovely. Realistically, if one didn’t factor in his hideous personality, the man was a rather stunning creature. From a shallow perspective, the elegant planes of the man’s face, now relieved from its deprecating smile, were soft and welcoming; and one could only assume that the light violet of his eyes could only match in their softness. For another man observing the sleeping creature, it would be obvious why women flocked to the horrid chūnin, regardless of his less than appealing personality.

But back on track now, the morning light had finally made its way to the bed. Settling directly on the shinobi’s face, Tosatsu let out an agonized groan, the bright light sparking white specks through his closed lids. Rolling slightly to hide from the nagging rays, the man pulled the blankets higher over his shoulders, tucking his head deeply into the comforter before letting out a sigh of relief as he welcomed the darkness. Typically, mornings were a rough start for him; his nights usually long, laborious and full of memorable moments that he often couldn’t remember. In addition, although he was used to his mattress varying weekly, and in some cases daily, it always took him some time to finally relax enough to slumber. In this particular case, he had been up until the early hours of morning, his strenuous pastime literally making the night fly by, thus reinforcing the claim that “time flies when you’re having fun.” So, Tosatsu had probably been asleep for only an hour or so before the sun beckoned his sated body.

There was no fucking way he was getting up yet. Shifting slightly, the man paused his shuffling for a moment as a body rolled into the curve of his. Leaning forward, Tosa tucked his head into the crevice of the person’s neck before he slowly opened his mouth and flicked his tongue against her skin. He wet it saucily, a sly grin gracing his lips as a wispy moan left hers as he continued, resting his mouth against her flesh and sucking. She was slightly louder now, and the man couldn’t help but chuckle. Although his body craved sleep, the idea of pleasing this lovely nymph once more was too tempting. Feeling her body turn now, the man leaned back slightly to give her some room, closing in once again as her eyes lifted to his.

“Morning…” she murmured, her voice soft and husky from sleep.

“Good morning, pet,” he replied, seamlessly winding his arm around her shoulders and dragging her close, her ample body pressingly deliciously against his, “I know you’re tired, but I have the best way to start your day.” Grinning devilishly, the man leaned forward to claim her lips, his kiss hard and demanding as the woman easily gave in, her mouth welcoming and hot. Catching her moan, Tosa moved away from her mouth, a silent trek (or at least on his part) beginning as he kissed her jaw; licking, nipping, sucking, where he knew she wanted it most. It was a wonderful game for him, pleasing a woman. To find out what they craved most without them voicing it was a wickedly fun time and as the night had progressed, he knew what made this little minx scream. Descending now, his lips passed her jaw, skimming wetly over her earlobe where he nibbled the skin, whispering his plans for their morning exercise in her ear. She let out a lengthy sigh at his detailed description, stretching her neck out and silently begging him for more.

Oh, it was too much.

Pressing her back against the mattress, Tosa dominated her, locking her wrists together in a single hand, leaving her utterly defenseless to his ministrations. Dipping below her neck now, he let out a primitive growl for her benefit, enjoying her cries of ‘more, more, more’ (what an over-used phrase), before dipping his head into her bountiful chest to claim what was rightfully his –

“What the fuck?”

Well, damn. This must be the husband.

For a moment, all time seemed to fall still. Here was Tosa, his messy head of hair bowed pleasantly over the ample chest of his sex partner, while her head had previously been thrown back in pleasure. Now, he mused silently, slowly releasing his predatory slouch over the woman, her neck was snapped straight, her rather pretty brown eyes staring in absolute horror at the man she was married to. Well, it was certainly awkward, he rationalized mentally, flipping onto his side easily beside the aghast woman. After all, she was directly caught in the act of adultery with; let’s face it, a devilishly attractive fellow.

Slipping a grin onto his thin lips, the chūnin smiled at the man without batting an eye. The unrepentant twinkle and relaxed body language clearly displayed his feelings over the entire situation. In no way was Tosatsu feeling unsure or fearful as he laid beside another’s wife as she frantically attempted to gather the sheets around her body, forming the piece of fabric into an ill-conceived toga. In fact, even as she started rambling on about how she felt that Fuji (that must be the guy’s name) had been neglecting her needs and leaving her alone far too often, yadayadayada… , Tosa barely blinked. If he was honest with himself, the man was actually getting quite a kick out of the whole situation. Here he was, assisting an obviously beautiful albeit selfish woman completely ruin her marriage, while coming out of the whole thing debt free. There weren’t any costs or consequences for his actions, because really, who’s the guy going to be more upset with? The random man his wife was sleeping with, or his cheating whore of a wife?

To Tosa, it wasn’t really a hard answer. The woman was the one that was spreading her legs for half of Konohagakure’s older population, willingly bringing other men into her bed while her husband ventured away to complete missions in the name of their village and to earn a living. It really actually surprised the white haired panther that this ditz hadn’t be ousted long ago; she obviously wasn’t intelligent enough to know her husband’s schedule so she could plan her escapades behind his back. But even if she wasn’t a complete idiot, Tosatsu still found her actions utterly disgusting. Even now, as he lay beside her, her body hidden by a thin sheet and tears streaming down her face, he half-listened to her ramblings about how it was her husband’s fault that she was unfaithful. It was such utter bullshit to play that card.

Women were always needy. They were harpies behind beautiful faces that could easily find the faults in others, and never themselves. To actually state that it was Fuji’s fault for her adultery, was utterly delicious. It was so fucking insensitive, cad, and whatever other adjective that showed his disgust that Tosatsu couldn’t help but laugh. There was a reason why he viewed women as nothing but a good night with no commitment. In the case with this idiot for example, she was a rocket in bed; sexually appeasing, had a very talented tongue and an adventurous nature that just made his cock hard, but she was a selfish, attention-seeking bitch that beyond the bedroom, Tosatsu could only scorn and laugh at. She was just another pathetic creature that seemed to populate this place. Good for his dick, but nothing else.

Noting now that Fuji seemed to be coming into his anger stage at whatever bullshit his wife was yelling at him, Tosatsu idly figured it was time to make his exit. Standing up easily, baring his bare ass to the world, the man efficiently reached around the ground to gather his discarded clothing. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much time before the husband was on him, so Tosa figured he’d throw on the basics and hope for the best. Thus, going commando, the chūnin slipped his pants on quickly, zipping them up with a single hand as he pushed his arms into the white fabric of his embossed jacket, forgoing a t-shirt as well, before reaching down to nab his boots that he had settled by the door. At that point, Fuji seemed to catch onto what was happening, and within moments, Tosatsu found himself ducking low in order to avoid a monstrous punch that was just so eager to knock his jaw out.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat at the concept of a brawl, the man hit the ground hard, jutting his shoulder out to catch the unsuspecting husband, flipping him carelessly over his back before rolling away to gain some distance from the angered man. As he had completed his roll, Tosatsu had nabbed his boots, thus getting to his feet quickly once he completed his maneuver. Stamping his feet into the leather soles, the home wrecker idly contemplated what he was going to have for breakfast after this whole fiasco when once again, Fuji came at him. This time however, the man had drawn weaponry from him pouch, making Tosa question the importance of the walls in his home. Did he really want knife marks as decorations?

Bending low again, the chūnin performed another roll, escaping the sharp knives that his conquest’s obviously skilled husband was wielding. At this point, the woman was yelling the typical ‘Stop, stop! Don’t fight over me!’ line, and without a second glance, let alone a first, Tosatsu tuned her out. He had been in his fair share of brawls, but dealing with an angered spouse in his own bedroom was not one he had yet checked off from his bucket list. Letting out a cackle, the lithe man dipped and dived until he finally made it to his weaponry pouch where he pulled out a kunai just in time to save his ass from a nice hit.

“This jacket is rather expensive. I’d quite prefer if you didn’t sully it with my blood,” he started, smiling keenly at Fuji as he held their blow, “Although… I have sullied your wife, so I guess it can only been seen as a touch for a touch. But then again, if we’re counting touches, I think you’d be hacking at my corpse for a very long time…” Grinning wickedly, Tosatsu winked at his opponent before dipping beneath his guard and performing a skilled punch to the wind pipe. Pulling away quickly to avoid the arms that couldn’t wait to strangle him to death, the shinobi danced away from Fuji with a silly laugh.

Rather quickly, the husband was back on his feet, his lumbering form closing the distance between them at a pace that impressed the younger man. At this point, Tosa still only had a singular kunai draw and he observed with a keen eye as Fuji skillfully withdrew a box of senbon. Without much pause, the angered man was releasing the thin pieces of wood with an elegant flourish of skill that was only tainted by the red hot anger that seeped from his pores to blind his vision like sweat. Hitting the ground hard to dodge the first flurry, the white panther once again found himself rolling on the floor, mentally imagining what would have happened if he was by stairs. ‘It’d have bloody hurt,’ he thought to himself as he dove behind a suddenly uprooted desk (yes, he just flipped the desk). “If this is how you aim, it’s no wonder why your wife needs other people to sleep with her. Can your ‘weapon’ not find its mark in bed either?”

Laughing at his own joke, Tosatsu continued to maneuver around the bedroom, at one point grabbing the poor guy’s wife and using her as a human shield. By this point, he was finally at the door and with a quick kiss to the lady’s cheek to incense the husband even more, Tosa said his goodbyes and in the most basic terms, fucking dipped.

“Fuck. I really liked those briefs.”

Age : 30 Posts : 311

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SQUAD BETA. Sai, Tosatsu Chūnin words: 1004 CP: 115/115 Haiki, Sora Genin words: 1004 CP: 50/50 Yuki, Kurogane Genin words: 1004 CP: 50/50	'Tick Tock' goes the Clock.
	TEXT HERE PLEASE.

Age : 30 Posts : 311

KUROGANE.

“Carpe Diem. Do any of you brats know the meaning of that?”

Glancing around his classroom, the man didn’t bother covering the annoyed growl that slipped from his lips as he stared at the clueless class of students before him. Some were at least attempting to answer his question; their dirty, clumsy fingers flipping through the pages of their text quickly, while others stared stupidly away from him in hopes that by not catching his eyes he wouldn’t bother picking them. One in fact, stared determinedly out the window at the school grounds but Levi had a higher suspicion that the lack of eye contact was purely because the kid had checked out five minutes after class had started rather than to avoid the question.

The flailing arm of Arlet seemed to fill his vision, but Levi didn’t bother to address him. The blonde was one of the few diligent students in his class and he figured that if he continued to ignore him whilst asking questions, the kid would only try harder to earn his approval. The tactic seemed to be working thus far as Arlet seemed to be a constant addition of furniture in his office during his free hours, so he didn’t bother altering the pattern. Walking past him, the shorter man scanned his classroom for his next victim. Jean, a smart but lazy student, seemed to be masticating a piece of gum like the nickname he was often referred to by. Disgusted by such an unsightly sight, Levi smacked him across the back of the head with his text as he passed, enjoying the audible choking and harsh swallow that soon followed.

His eyes drew back to the slouched form of Jaeger and he took a small pleasure in noting that the kid was once again present in his class as he laughed at his school adversary. Levi didn’t know the entire story between Kirstein and Jaeger, partially because he didn’t care enough to look into it, but from what he understood, the two of them had been rivals since the beginning of their high school acquaintanceship and had continued to antagonize one another whenever the opportunity allowed it. In this case, Jaeger was waving off the mothering hands of his adoptive sister and his own distant relative as Mikasa attempted to hush him when it became obvious that he had chosen his victim.

The brunette, as always, seemed oblivious to his presence and ignored the warning glances from his companion in order to take poorly timed jibes at his barely breathing peer.

“Jaeger,” Levi started, a gleam in his eye, “What does ‘Carpe Diem’ mean?”

The boy glanced up in surprise for a moment before eyeing his fellow students for an answer. It was obvious enough that the kid had no clue what it meant.

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Age : 30 Posts : 311

Danger. Danger. Call the ranger.

“Carpe Diem. Do any of you brats know the meaning of that?”

Glancing around his classroom, the man didn’t bother covering the annoyed growl that slipped from his lips as he stared at the clueless class of students before him. Some were at least attempting to answer his question; their dirty, clumsy fingers flipping through the pages of their text quickly, while others stared stupidly away from him in hopes that by not catching his eyes he wouldn’t bother picking them. One in fact, stared determinedly out the window at the school grounds but Levi had a higher suspicion that the lack of eye contact was purely because the kid had checked out five minutes after class had started rather than to avoid the question.

The flailing arm of Arlet seemed to fill his vision, but Levi didn’t bother to address him. The blonde was one of the few diligent students in his class and he figured that if he continued to ignore him whilst asking questions, the kid would only try harder to earn his approval. The tactic seemed to be working thus far as Arlet seemed to be a constant addition of furniture in his office during his free hours, so he didn’t bother altering the pattern. Walking past him, the shorter man scanned his classroom for his next victim. Jean, a smart but lazy student, seemed to be masticating a piece of gum like the nickname he was often referred to by. Disgusted by such an unsightly sight, Levi smacked him across the back of the head with his text as he passed, enjoying the audible choking and harsh swallow that soon followed.

His eyes drew back to the slouched form of Jaeger and he took a small pleasure in noting that the kid was once again present in his class as he laughed at his school adversary. Levi didn’t know the entire story between Kirstein and Jaeger, partially because he didn’t care enough to look into it, but from what he understood, the two of them had been rivals since the beginning of their high school acquaintanceship and had continued to antagonize one another whenever the opportunity allowed it. In this case, Jaeger was waving off the mothering hands of his adoptive sister and his own distant relative as Mikasa attempted to hush him when it became obvious that he had chosen his victim.

The brunette, as always, seemed oblivious to his presence and ignored the warning glances from his companion in order to take poorly timed jibes at his barely breathing peer.

“Jaeger,” Levi started, a gleam in his eye, “What does ‘Carpe Diem’ mean?”

The boy glanced up in surprise for a moment before eyeing his fellow students for an answer. It was obvious enough that the kid had no clue what it meant.

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Age : 30 Posts : 311

Tosatsu liked to win. The active euphoria that flowed through his veins in the form of adrenaline was addictive; thrumming like liquid magic that his body absorbed with ease. It grounded him, but allowed him to fly – reminding him that victory was sweet, but losing was always a possibility. He liked the recklessness that came with the feeling as it hinted at the eventual destruction that he would face. That day, he knew, would be a fuckin’ show. Sure, this point on his scorecard was hardly anything worth celebrating, either, but just like one took great pleasure whilst indulging in a box of chocolates, the panther would lick his chomps at capturing a weak, innocent, baby gazelle.

Mmm, delicious.

Turning to watch the retreating back, the chūnin narrowed his eyes in silent contemplation. He recognized when a man gave up the battle, rather than the war. It piqued his curiosity that this Peg-ninny didn’t stay to inquire about the loss of profit as it simply reeked of a bad business sense. The kid hadn’t seemed intimidated by him either, so the scenario of him being too frightened to ask was not a viable one. No, this was a tactical retreat – a battle that had been weighed, and found wanting on his front. Cocking his head to the side, the panther eyed his disappearing form as it slipped past the door and couldn’t help but wonder who the kid was. He was young, obviously, but a civilian wouldn’t have reacted that well to the boisterous presence of Sumi Auto. Considering the kid seemed to be the type to play regularly at venues, then he should have been fairly well-informed about the current proprietors of the viable locations for his music.

Given the fact that he did not seem to recognize him, Tosatsu had the inkling feeling that the kid wasn’t a civvie. Civilians knew him, regardless of it being because of his infamy, so the squirt should have known that since Sweet Love Tearoom’s conception, Sumi Auto had been exterminating potential musicians that attempted to besmirch his establishment with their quirky, modern tunes, or pathetic musical – or lack thereof - talents. Thus, he was either a shinobi, or an out-of-town performer. Considering the ground that seemed to have been well-versed in his music, Tosatsu doubted that it was the latter. Anyone that had that sort of following in Kumogakure needed to be local, especially if they were willing to listen via a teashop. The conclusion then, was that the kid was a shinobi. It would explain his apathy towards Tosatsu’s veiled words or appearance; what kind of tool would be frightened by a measly civilian?

His age seemed rather young – foppish if he were one to categorize – and unfamiliar. So he must have recently graduated. The panther supposed he should be thankful that he did not have yet another addition to his current pain in the ass team. Honestly, were those little vagrants trying to make him more waspish than usual? He swore that they went out of their way to aggravate him by not following his instructions or respecting his authority. One day, he was going to have a few words with the sonsofbitches that would, oddly enough, resemble a couple kicks to the head. Hmm. Maybe a spar wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Deciding to mull over the idea at a later date, Tosatsu turned his attention back to the eyesore in his store. It stared back at him vengefully, a smirk upon its absent face as it continued to occupy space and throw off the Feng Shui he had going on at the moment. A cleansing session was definitely in order if he was to get over this aberration that will most definitely haunt his dreams. Biting back a grimace, Tosatsu barked over his shoulder, “Hana!”

His loyal minion would take care of everything. He, on the other hand, was calling it a night.

[EXIT.]

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Age : 30 Posts : 311

The Shinobi.

Name: Sai, Tosatsu.
Age: Twenty seven.
Sex: Tosa's Templates Male_zps1ed5afa7

Rank: Chūnin [Special Jōnin Skill Level]
Profession: Protection Service Ninja.
Origin: Kaminari no Kuni
Affiliation: Kumogakure no Sato.
Specialties: Fūinjutsu, Weaponry
[Main: Close-ranged; Sub: Mid-ranged]
Elemental Affinities: Raiton, Doton.
Current Establishment: Amaikoi Chashitsu - Sweet Love Tearoom.

Aliases:
Sumi Auto, 外に結んで; literally translates to ‘inked out.’ Considering the man is essentially covered in tattoos, the alias seems fitting enough. Unknowingly, this name is the one he utilizes when running his tearoom, 'Amaikoi Chashitsu.' He is seen as an aloof proprietor that is enthusiastic about his trade and often borders on the line of eccentric with his severe case of verbal diarrhea. All patrons recognize that he is not entirely well mentally and thus, brush off his caustic words with warm smiles.

Tosa, 土佐; used in an affectionate manner; few refer to him as such. Preferably, Tosatsu wishes for people to address him using his full name, partially because he finds it humorous that the addition of ‘slaughter’ needs to be inputted into every sentence that someone directs at him, as well as the irony that can be found when a woman screams his name when they’re together in bed. In some ways he recognizes the immaturity of such logic, but he dismisses the childishness of his actions, justifying it as the need to take pleasure in the simplest of things, regardless of what Mill preaches about lesser pleasures: “Better to be a pig satisfied than Socrates dissatisfied.”

Appearance

To go with the typical generalization of most anti-hero characters, Tosatsu is one bad-ass looking fellow. With hair that has its own personality, the undistinguished white or lavender mess of locks are almost never controlled; resembling a severe case of bedhead with gel. And even though they seem to stand at gravity defying heights, no matter how often he cards his fingers through it in frustration, it never seems to falter from its original, disorganized style. On top of his hair that has its own area code, Tosatsu sports lavender irises, a watered out purple that seems to be forever misleading. Rather than smiling slyly with his thin lips, the man is more oft to give away his deviance with his eyes. They are almost always mischievous, thus hiding his intent beyond trouble. Aside from the notable hair and orbs, there is nothing else special about his face; his features aristocratic and angular, but nothing worth mentioning.

Moving forward; Tosatsu stands at an admirable six feet with a bone structure that hints of a scrawny disposition. However, being a shinobi, the man’s muscles are well toned, resulting in him weighing in at one hundred sixty five pounds, creating a vision of a lithe panther ready to strike – albeit a white one. To cover the multitude of tattoos that decorate his body, Tosa wears many layers of clothing. Leisurely when he is not on missions or some other, uninteresting ninja errand, Tosatsu lounges around in what he deems is ‘appropriate wear.’ Never one to wander around without looking put together, the white panther usually dons outfits that don’t necessarily ‘fit with the times’. Garbed in leather or fabric jackets that range from tan to black and then to white, Tosa refrains from showing as much skin as possible, no matter the heat. Having been born with the Daosumi culture imbedded into him about the importance of obscuring their teachings, he hardly ever shows off his skin aside from his hands and face.

Thus, under his jackets, the man sports a variety of coloured spandex shirts that fit snugly to his form and slip into the waistband of his pants. These also are tucked into the dark combat boots he sports upon his feet, regardless of the event he is attending. Hidden within their leathered soles are knives that can be released by activating the seal he has placed on the toe of each boot.

When it comes to actual ninja wear, Tosatsu wears a white, stiff fabric jacket that rests just below his waist. Rather intricate in design, the coat has many snaps and zippers that allow him to open a certain aspect of the fabric in order to give him access to the many tattoos on his body. The collar is high, connected together by two simple snaps that he usually pulls apart before battle. On the shoulders rests two guards that are engraved with the Daosumi Crest. Tosatsu wears nothing beneath this jacket. His legs are garbed in simple navy slacks that are tucked into the aforementioned combat boots, thus completing his look. These pants do have seemingly random slits in them, but these again, provide access to his tattoos.

Tattoo descriptions will be given later on.

Forehead Protector: Not one to wear a gaudy piece of fabric upon his forehead and thus, damaging his do, Tosatsu displays the symbol of his loyalty on the collar of his jacket, the small sign engraved into the fabric with a dark thread. Underneath it, the man has also tattooed his village's strength on his chest, hoping that one day, it'll meld together to form his strongest seal.

Personality
There really isn’t anything special about this man. Outwardly, he comes off as an easy-going fellow with an inclination to be flirtatious and a jack-ass, and in reality, he is. There is no ‘inner Tosatsu’ that is kind and gentle, selfless or self-sacrificing. If there is anything about his personality that is misleading, then it is the fact that he thinks people are even less important than what he makes them appear as outwardly. He is every bit as conniving as a villain and he enjoys playing it off that way as well, partially because it’s easier to be oneself, along with the fact that ladies seem to love the bad boy.

Aside from the fact that he is a complete jack-ass, Tosatsu is also very sarcastic. His humour comes off as both demeaning and honest to the point that people aren’t often sure if he is insulting them or merely joking. He finds it enjoyable confusing those around him, his fake smiles often present when he speaks, belying a personality that is rather nasty beneath the surface. He is generally calculating, which is the reason that he reins in his humor and behavior. In order to be successful in the world, one cannot scare away those that are essential for climbing the figurative ladder of the world, thus, the man resorts to veiled insults and condescending sarcasm to get his point across.

Rather intelligent, the man is known to be a strategist when it comes to battle. He likes to play with people, mentally and physically, often enjoying banter while fighting. He does have a large ego, not believing that he is more intelligent than everyone, but enjoying the fact that he recognizes that he isn’t. He isn’t really prideful as a person, understanding that sometimes, if one really wants something, than they need to drop those distinctions of propriety or supremacy in order to get them. This means that he doesn’t really view any action below him, and has no qualms with cheating in order to win. He’s rather competitive as an individual, which is why winning matters to him, no matter the situation. It is important for him to get the final word in, even if it is an off the shoulder comment about another’s mother. Now, this isn’t to say that he will argue over anything, as he views some topics or people aren’t worth arguing with or about as it’s just about as successful as smashing one’s head off a wall repeatedly, but he does search for those that will put up a good fight.

Respect only rises within him if the person can challenge him intelligently. He enjoys great banter and those that possess self-deprecating wit. Tosatsu doesn’t really count many people as his friends, but sees most in terms of those that are useful to him and those that aren’t. When it comes to his loyalty to his village, however, he is rather on a straight and narrow path. Beyond his selfishness, he views his home as a temple that cannot be disrupted by outside forces, and thus will defend it to his death. On the other hand, he takes great pleasure in political tyranny and therefore enjoys the chaos it can create. If civil war were to ever erupt, the white panther would most likely side with the side he believes would win, not necessarily the side he feels is more correct. For him to get where he needs to go, he needs to be on the winning side.

Tosatsu although driven by his own desires, can get rather comfortable in his position. He doesn’t see a large point in rushing to rank up when he knows that his techniques and strength are already increasing without the extra work and duties he’d get at a higher rank.

Generally, he likes and dislikes the following:

He likes:

Drawing
Incensing others
Intelligent adversaries
Good Banter
Corruption

He dislikes:

Ignorance
Stupidity
Repeating himself
Essentially people in general
Remedial tasks that don’t need any sort of intelligence to complete

Age : 32 Posts : 175

All these kick the shit out of my template, I feel like mine is crap! D:
They're so good!

Age : 30 Posts : 311

Thank you, very much!~ When I have inspiration, I'll open a shop and let you know. Smile

Posts : 288

these are so good! open up a shop. I desire your templates

Age : 94 Posts : 369

I LUVVVV IT!

Age : 31 Posts : 1036

Dayum..........that "danger" one is fucking sick. It even looks like my character, oratleast the one I plan to use. Great freaking job there. I like all of them, but I'm more of an evil prick so that one is my favorite. O.O

Age : 30 Posts : 311

Thanks, Jace! (: xxx

Age : 30 Posts : 311

There was a legitimate reason that she was bored. Chase scenes never ushered much enthusiasm when it was so laborious to retain the location of the hunted. While questing for a man through a convoluted street was one of her favorite past times, hunting for a delinquent in an overcrowded path was rather... unconventional, especially when said derelict meandered about like he was mentally handicapped. Eji flawlessly demonstrated how to avert a stalker without even knowing of his own pursuit. Hira heeded and followed a fade of blue in the distance, and then a rupture of perturbed citizens to her right and then suddenly... nothing. No fur-lined vest, no burly physique or mane of azure. No matter how his unorthodox methods worked, he managed to stealthily evade her into oblivion. Just what the fuck was he doing?

He must’ve bolted for it, but without any rationality to do so in the first place. Hira exhaled, slightly agitated at the sudden change of pace, as her legs progressed further down the congested streets. The kid was a screwball – unpredictable, down to the very definition of the word. Facing off against such an erratic person sent a twinge of fervor through her veins, since an opportunity to challenge such... incalculable people was far and in between. But, cockiness was never a factor when her life was on the line, but rather, a tenacity to win.

Observing every street corner and crevice for a literal fish out of water, Hira recognized a smear of gaudy tattoos trailing down a muscular arm deviating from the street and into an alley. Snaking through the throng of people, Hira glanced passed the lane as Eji dashed through it, rolling her eyes at his flamboyancy. While Hira lagged behind the one-man show, she tracked him further down to directly across the street – a bar, and one that she was unfamiliar with. She judgingly scrutinized his entrance into the facility and before she approached the place, radioed Tosatsu her current location, while removing her tool pouch from between her breasts and returned it to her leg, but facing the pouch toward the back.

“Tosatsu, over. Follow the path down the block until you reach the Lucky Dragon Casino and take a right into the alleyway next to it. Take that all the way down until you see an old bar called Reno’s. That’s where we are. Radio me back when you’re close, and I’ll set up a telepathic communication with you. We’ll be able to speak to each other in a close proximity without him even knowing.”

Hira slinked to the side of the shattered entrance, eavesdropping on the one-sided conversation of Eji’s attempted rape. While taking a woman fiercely was always a desirable course into sex, not knowing the other party definitely ruined the moment. But, the kid had the right idea, if not the balls to get whatever he wanted, even if it lead to someone else’s suffering. Even so, Hira had no will to shield the damsel in distress from his obscene manhandling. An unfortunate sacrifice should the circumstances of her death arise, although preventing such a situation was always the best course of action. If she could help it, no one would have to die but Eji.

Awaiting Tosatsu’s reply for no less than a minute, she immediately connected to him through their closer distance. Performing several hand signs, Hira took a deep breath and spoke to her partner calmly before initiating their fight. Be ready, Tosatsu. This boy is a wildcard, so don’t ever let your guard down, not even for a moment. I’m going to attempt a genjutsu on him, and that’s the moment you strike. I’ll let you know when I begin.

Pushing aside large splinters of wood with her boot, Hira leaned against the doorway, staring at the young Eji intimately. She crossed her arms and smiled charmingly, speaking in an inviting tone, with overlying hints all throughout her speech. “Hm, what shame to take a little girl so voraciously... Wouldn’t you prefer a woman, one that was more than willing to appease your every desire? Let the girl go, and I’ll take you on.” The high-noon sun illuminated through the open doorway, encompassing Hira’s curvaceous figure and darkening her more distinct features. Yet, her unmistakeable, violet eyes swirled, gleaming with anxiousness – a tension Eji would recognize as unadulterated desire. Hira disguised her true ambitions well. As the sunlight was blocked by passing clouds, her full form materialized before him again. Biting her lower lip, she raised her arm and motioned him forward with her index finger.

Within the time of her arrival and eye contact, Hira vanished before his eyes and reappeared, while a colossal tree sprout behind him, grasping him with its’ branches. Upon his capture, an immediate Go! would sound through Tosatsu’s mind, signaling the beginning of a battle. Hira approached the young man, a placid smile blatant on her face and a kunai in hand. This would be over soon.

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Age : 30 Posts : 311

There was a legitimate reason that she was bored. Chase scenes never ushered much enthusiasm when it was so laborious to retain the location of the hunted. While questing for a man through a convoluted street was one of her favorite past times, hunting for a delinquent in an overcrowded path was rather... unconventional, especially when said derelict meandered about like he was mentally handicapped. Eji flawlessly demonstrated how to avert a stalker without even knowing of his own pursuit. Hira heeded and followed a fade of blue in the distance, and then a rupture of perturbed citizens to her right and then suddenly... nothing. No fur-lined vest, no burly physique or mane of azure. No matter how his unorthodox methods worked, he managed to stealthily evade her into oblivion. Just what the fuck was he doing?

He must’ve bolted for it, but without any rationality to do so in the first place. Hira exhaled, slightly agitated at the sudden change of pace, as her legs progressed further down the congested streets. The kid was a screwball – unpredictable, down to the very definition of the word. Facing off against such an erratic person sent a twinge of fervor through her veins, since an opportunity to challenge such... incalculable people was far and in between. But, cockiness was never a factor when her life was on the line, but rather, a tenacity to win.

Observing every street corner and crevice for a literal fish out of water, Hira recognized a smear of gaudy tattoos trailing down a muscular arm deviating from the street and into an alley. Snaking through the throng of people, Hira glanced passed the lane as Eji dashed through it, rolling her eyes at his flamboyancy. While Hira lagged behind the one-man show, she tracked him further down to directly across the street – a bar, and one that she was unfamiliar with. She judgingly scrutinized his entrance into the facility and before she approached the place, radioed Tosatsu her current location, while removing her tool pouch from between her breasts and returned it to her leg, but facing the pouch toward the back.

“Tosatsu, over. Follow the path down the block until you reach the Lucky Dragon Casino and take a right into the alleyway next to it. Take that all the way down until you see an old bar called Reno’s. That’s where we are. Radio me back when you’re close, and I’ll set up a telepathic communication with you. We’ll be able to speak to each other in a close proximity without him even knowing.”

Hira slinked to the side of the shattered entrance, eavesdropping on the one-sided conversation of Eji’s attempted rape. While taking a woman fiercely was always a desirable course into sex, not knowing the other party definitely ruined the moment. But, the kid had the right idea, if not the balls to get whatever he wanted, even if it lead to someone else’s suffering. Even so, Hira had no will to shield the damsel in distress from his obscene manhandling. An unfortunate sacrifice should the circumstances of her death arise, although preventing such a situation was always the best course of action. If she could help it, no one would have to die but Eji.

Awaiting Tosatsu’s reply for no less than a minute, she immediately connected to him through their closer distance. Performing several hand signs, Hira took a deep breath and spoke to her partner calmly before initiating their fight. Be ready, Tosatsu. This boy is a wildcard, so don’t ever let your guard down, not even for a moment. I’m going to attempt a genjutsu on him, and that’s the moment you strike. I’ll let you know when I begin.

Pushing aside large splinters of wood with her boot, Hira leaned against the doorway, staring at the young Eji intimately. She crossed her arms and smiled charmingly, speaking in an inviting tone, with overlying hints all throughout her speech. “Hm, what shame to take a little girl so voraciously... Wouldn’t you prefer a woman, one that was more than willing to appease your every desire? Let the girl go, and I’ll take you on.” The high-noon sun illuminated through the open doorway, encompassing Hira’s curvaceous figure and darkening her more distinct features. Yet, her unmistakeable, violet eyes swirled, gleaming with anxiousness – a tension Eji would recognize as unadulterated desire. Hira disguised her true ambitions well. As the sunlight was blocked by passing clouds, her full form materialized before him again. Biting her lower lip, she raised her arm and motioned him forward with her index finger.

Within the time of her arrival and eye contact, Hira vanished before his eyes and reappeared, while a colossal tree sprout behind him, grasping him with its’ branches. Upon his capture, an immediate Go! would sound through Tosatsu’s mind, signaling the beginning of a battle. Hira approached the young man, a placid smile blatant on her face and a kunai in hand. This would be over soon.

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Age : 30 Posts : 311

Name: Sai, Tosatsu.
Age: Twenty seven.
Sex: Tosa's Templates Male_zps1ed5afa7

Rank: Chūnin [Jōnin Skill Level]
Profession: Protection Service Ninja.
Origin: Kaminari no Kuni
Affiliation: Kumogakure no Sato.
Specialties: Fūinjutsu, Weaponry
[Main: Close-ranged; Sub: Mid-ranged]
Elemental Affinities: Raiton, Doton.
Current Establishments: Amaikoi Chashitsu - Sweet Love Tearoom [Kumogakure Location] ; Amaikoi Chashitsu - Sweet Love Tearoom [Konohagakure Location]

Aliases:
Sumi Auto, 外に結んで; literally translates to ‘inked out.’ Considering the man is essentially covered in tattoos, the alias seems fitting enough. Unknowingly, this name is the one he utilizes when running his tearoom, 'Amaikoi Chashitsu.' He is seen as an aloof proprietor that is enthusiastic about his trade and often borders on the line of eccentric with his severe case of verbal diarrhea. All patrons recognize that he is not entirely well mentally and thus, brush off his caustic words with warm smiles.

Tosa, 土佐; used in an affectionate manner; few refer to him as such. Preferably, Tosatsu wishes for people to address him using his full name, partially because he finds it humorous that the addition of ‘slaughter’ needs to be inputted into every sentence that someone directs at him, as well as the irony that can be found when a woman screams his name when they’re together in bed. In some ways he recognizes the immaturity of such logic, but he dismisses the childishness of his actions, justifying it as the need to take pleasure in the simplest of things, regardless of what Mill preaches about lesser pleasures: “Better to be a pig satisfied than Socrates dissatisfied.”

Appearance

To go with the typical generalization of most anti-hero characters, Tosatsu is one bad-ass looking fellow. With hair that has its own personality, the undistinguished white or lavender mess of locks are almost never controlled; resembling a severe case of bedhead with gel. And even though they seem to stand at gravity defying heights, no matter how often he cards his fingers through it in frustration, it never seems to falter from its original, disorganized style. On top of his hair that has its own area code, Tosatsu sports lavender irises, a watered out purple that seems to be forever misleading. Rather than smiling slyly with his thin lips, the man is more oft to give away his deviance with his eyes. They are almost always mischievous, thus hiding his intent beyond trouble. Aside from the notable hair and orbs, there is nothing else special about his face; his features aristocratic and angular, but nothing worth mentioning.

Moving forward; Tosatsu stands at an admirable six feet with a bone structure that hints of a scrawny disposition. However, being a shinobi, the man’s muscles are well toned, resulting in him weighing in at one hundred sixty five pounds, creating a vision of a lithe panther ready to strike – albeit a white one. To cover the multitude of tattoos that decorate his body, Tosa wears many layers of clothing. Leisurely when he is not on missions or some other, uninteresting ninja errand, Tosatsu lounges around in what he deems is ‘appropriate wear.’ Never one to wander around without looking put together, the white panther usually dons outfits that don’t necessarily ‘fit with the times’. Garbed in leather or fabric jackets that range from tan to black and then to white, Tosa refrains from showing as much skin as possible, no matter the heat. Having been born with the Daosumi culture imbedded into him about the importance of obscuring their teachings, he hardly ever shows off his skin aside from his hands and face.

Thus, under his jackets, the man sports a variety of coloured spandex shirts that fit snugly to his form and slip into the waistband of his pants. These also are tucked into the dark combat boots he sports upon his feet, regardless of the event he is attending. Hidden within their leathered soles are knives that can be released by activating the seal he has placed on the toe of each boot.

When it comes to actual ninja wear, Tosatsu wears a white, stiff fabric jacket that rests just below his waist. Rather intricate in design, the coat has many snaps and zippers that allow him to open a certain aspect of the fabric in order to give him access to the many tattoos on his body. The collar is high, connected together by two simple snaps that he usually pulls apart before battle. On the shoulders rests two guards that are engraved with the Daosumi Crest. Tosatsu wears nothing beneath this jacket. His legs are garbed in simple navy slacks that are tucked into the aforementioned combat boots, thus completing his look. These pants do have seemingly random slits in them, but these again, provide access to his tattoos.

Tattoo descriptions will be given later on.

Forehead Protector: Not one to wear a gaudy piece of fabric upon his forehead and thus, damaging his do, Tosatsu displays the symbol of his loyalty on the collar of his jacket, the small sign engraved into the fabric with a dark thread. Underneath it, the man has also tattooed his village's strength on his chest, hoping that one day, it'll meld together to form his strongest seal.

Personality

There really isn’t anything special about this man. Outwardly, he comes off as an easy-going fellow with an inclination to be flirtatious and a jack-ass, and in reality, he is. There is no ‘inner Tosatsu’ that is kind and gentle, selfless or self-sacrificing. If there is anything about his personality that is misleading, then it is the fact that he thinks people are even less important than what he makes them appear as outwardly. He is every bit as conniving as a villain and he enjoys playing it off that way as well, partially because it’s easier to be oneself, along with the fact that ladies seem to love the bad boy.

Aside from the fact that he is a complete jack-ass, Tosatsu is also very sarcastic. His humour comes off as both demeaning and honest to the point that people aren’t often sure if he is insulting them or merely joking. He finds it enjoyable confusing those around him, his fake smiles often present when he speaks, belying a personality that is rather nasty beneath the surface. He is generally calculating, which is the reason that he reins in his humor and behavior. In order to be successful in the world, one cannot scare away those that are essential for climbing the figurative ladder of the world, thus, the man resorts to veiled insults and condescending sarcasm to get his point across.

Rather intelligent, the man is known to be a strategist when it comes to battle. He likes to play with people, mentally and physically, often enjoying banter while fighting. He does have a large ego, not believing that he is more intelligent than everyone, but enjoying the fact that he recognizes that he isn’t. He isn’t really prideful as a person, understanding that sometimes, if one really wants something, than they need to drop those distinctions of propriety or supremacy in order to get them. This means that he doesn’t really view any action below him, and has no qualms with cheating in order to win. He’s rather competitive as an individual, which is why winning matters to him, no matter the situation. It is important for him to get the final word in, even if it is an off the shoulder comment about another’s mother. Now, this isn’t to say that he will argue over anything, as he views some topics or people aren’t worth arguing with or about as it’s just about as successful as smashing one’s head off a wall repeatedly, but he does search for those that will put up a good fight.

Respect only rises within him if the person can challenge him intelligently. He enjoys great banter and those that possess self-deprecating wit. Tosatsu doesn’t really count many people as his friends, but sees most in terms of those that are useful to him and those that aren’t. When it comes to his loyalty to his village, however, he is rather on a straight and narrow path. Beyond his selfishness, he views his home as a temple that cannot be disrupted by outside forces, and thus will defend it to his death. On the other hand, he takes great pleasure in political tyranny and therefore enjoys the chaos it can create. If civil war were to ever erupt, the white panther would most likely side with the side he believes would win, not necessarily the side he feels is more correct. For him to get where he needs to go, he needs to be on the winning side.

Tosatsu although driven by his own desires, can get rather comfortable in his position. He doesn’t see a large point in rushing to rank up when he knows that his techniques and strength are already increasing without the extra work and duties he’d get at a higher rank.

Generally, he likes and dislikes the following:

He likes:

Drawing
Incensing others
Intelligent adversaries
Good Banter
Corruption

He dislikes:

Ignorance
Stupidity
Repeating himself
Essentially people in general
Remedial tasks that don’t need any sort of intelligence to complete

A Simple Beginning.

Just like a regular person, Tosatsu was borne from the womb of a woman, and not some spectre of a creature that was never around like some people rant about. This woman was obviously his mother since the idea of surrogate parenting hadn’t existed yet and she was alright at her job. She screwed up occasionally, having once left him in the middle of the woods at the river their people were bathing at, but hey, at least he was by water so he could roll over, drown, and die on his own terms. Heatstroke was utterly overrated. But aside from her occasional flub and theoretical, dropping the ball, she was a good parent. His dad wasn’t around much - that he remembered anyway, since he was a shinobi of Kumogakure and tended to spend his free time going out on missions to make money for his family.

Tosatsu never really held it against him, considering that he was doing it for their benefit, but it was harder growing up without an old man to look up to. Having been raised ninety percent by his mom, Tosatsu was rather close to her and they did typical mother and son things like go to the park, play, eat sweets and one time, she bought him a puppy. Unfortunately, since the family tended to travel often to visit their relatives that resided all over the place, the dog got left behind and since then, the man absolutely detests pets. Yeah, he’s a little bitter about that one.

Back on track now, his mother and father were both members of the Daosumi Clan. It was weird to a child that his parents were second cousins, but the ideas of incest didn’t really appear in his mind until later years. But since both were borne into the family name, they were very strict about the Clan rules and culture. Tosa grew up with a love for travel and the importance of hiding one’s body to protect the sacred sealing techniques of his family.

Academy Days.

It wasn’t until he was ten that his parents admitted him into the academy. To him it was rather early, his personality only beginning to develop. But, to his immense relief, it was here at the academy that Tosatsu lost all belief in humanity that he had previously held onto as a child. All around him, idiotic people congregated, and for once in his life, the child didn’t know what to say or how to deal with it. Promptly after that, his parents removed him from school as he had a little meltdown which resulted in him condemning everyone in the nearby vicinity. When looking back on it, the lavender haired man likes to think he told the school he was leaving, but he was pretty sure his parents said something about being suspended.

Eventually after some time, he ended up going back to that hell-hole to finish his academy time where he soon found out that sometimes, it was better to not call everyone stupid openly, but behind a laughing smile or joke. Soon, people stopped talking horribly about him and merely decided that it was too bad that the Daosumi Clan had a mentally ill child. Tosatsu didn’t really mind the assumption as it allowed him to get away with more, so he continued on with that lie until it came time for his exit examinations from the academy and he prompted blew any idea that he was stupid, mentally ill, or challenged out of the water when he aced them. Yes, he was one of those intelligent children. Unfortunately for him, he knew it, flaunted it, and was promptly beat up for it.

A Genin’s Trials.

Getting placed onto a team with two other genin was a new thing for Tosatsu. At this time, it was becoming obvious that this child did not work well with others, and it was here that he clearly displayed it. After his graduation though, his parents gave him his first tattoo, personally decorating his lower right cheek with the summoning contract that they also held. It was a rather moving moment for the kid, considering it was the biggest gift that his dad had ever given him. Feeling more superior than ever, Tosa brought this attitude to his new team only to come to the realization that if he kept looking down on others or remedial tasks, he wasn’t going to get anywhere with his training. Thus, he grudgingly retracted this view, becoming the teammate that dealt with the most unsavory tasks. As these acts continued, the growing boy soon began to realize how silly and pointless it was to look at these tasks as beneath him. If he continued thinking he was superior to everything, how the hell would he grow?

As he continued on his genin path, Tosatsu took some time for himself in order to train. Often, he would be seen going off on his own in one of those ‘sulky, emo walks’ to dwell over things. Unbeknownst to everyone around him, the child was beginning to plan his future. Around this time, the lavender haired boy gave himself his own first tattoo. Unknown to his parents, the man inked a simple lightning jutsu upon his tongue. It was a big success for him and soon, he began wearing the long sleeves that his conservative clan was known for. Eventually when he showed his parents the ‘badass seal’ he created, his father had merely looked at him and said wickedly, “Don’t use that on the ladies.”

It wasn’t until later that he realized what he meant.

So, as he journeyed along on this character-building quest to become stronger, and attempted to not get killed off all the while, Tosatsu became more in tune with his Clan Techniques. Often, people go off on those rants that tattoos are addictive, and as he went along, he agreed whole heartedly. By the end of his genin days, the young teen had acquired four tattoos. During this time, he continued to learn more about controlling his tongue around others and the finer skills of people manipulation. His team seemed to be easily manipulated and as they went through their examinations, Tosatsu used his new found skills to pass the genin examinations without much trial.

The hardest test was the one on one fighting where he couldn’t hide out and attack when the enemy was distracted, but his clan’s tattoos were wonderful surprises of death that made him proud to carry the Daosumi Name. Since his opponents couldn’t read the seals, his offhanded attacks with them often caught them on their heels, and combined with his sly, deprecating humour, Tosatsu soon became a formidable fighter people didn’t want to face – partially because he never shut up in battle. He purposefully did this, having figured out early on that if his opponent was to listen or even get riled by his comments, he created a distraction that would eventually lead to an opening in battle. Thus, he continued with his dry humor, allowing it to become a part of his combat style.

But back to the point; Tosatsu passed the genin examinations with another member of his team, his parents were proud, he was becoming a bad ass, blah, blah, blah.

Chillin' at Chūnin.

So, after hitting chūnin, the fourteen year old decided that it was time to settle down. He really didn’t see the point in ranking up aggressively considering that the only thing a higher rank brought was more duties and more complaints. So, Tosatsu got into the habit of slinking off on his own to relax, hoping that some time away from the world would allow him to get more in touch with himself. Yeah, he was totally deep, and at one point or another he got into the habit of writing poetry and sketching scenery. However, these items of his ‘passionate’ side are almost always hidden away as he fears people will begin to believe that he’s less of an asshole than he actually is.

Not only was he getting in touch with his emotional side, but Tosatsu began spending more time creating personalized tattoos for himself. In some ways, he deviated away from his parents’ teaching when it came to the construction of their craft. Tosa began writing seals that were visible to the eye that followed some of the Daosumi’s universal lines. His family incensed, attempted to force him to get rid of his symbols, but the teen refused. He was proud of their lineage and wished to flaunt their seal. He didn’t really see the problem with it either, considering that their style of seal was deeply encrypted, but his family felt different and with that, Tosatsu broke the umbilical epical cord between his family and him.

The sudden distance between them wasn’t something he really mulled over. They had a spat that was pointless in his eyes, where he recognized that they wouldn’t ever agree with his decisions, so instead of being stuck in a stalemate with them, he said good-bye. If there was anything the growing man disliked, it was unmoving feelings, and thus, he pushed them away. This moment was essential in Tosatsu’s growth as it showed his ability to throw away anything that he felt hindered him. To deal with the sudden bastardization, Tosatsu slandered the final remembrance of his parents; he made their first gift visible.

Tosatsu’s combat style is rather reminiscent to his personality. It is calculative, deprecating and full of conversation. Noting the importance of distractions, Tosatsu enjoys inserting dry humor and sarcastic commentary into his fighting in order to create an opening. Often, he gets swept up into his speech, tying in his jutsu into what he’s speaking about in order to activate wryly named seals. Most if his jutsu combinations and names work in unison to both insult, and damage the user by focusing on creating opportunities for simple mistakes. The more the opponent angers, the better a fight is for Tosa. Focusing more on close-ranged combat, the user likes to be handsy – erm, hands on when it comes to battle, thus he likes to draw his opponent’s closer with typical fuuinjutsu techniques that occur at a large distance. These jutsu he deems as distractions and often they are weaker than his go to ones.

By drawing them in, he waits until they are in the perfect distance for him to play to the strengths of his tattoos. When this occurs, he tries to efficiently put down his opponents, thus wasting little time and chakra. In addition to his fuuinjutsu, the user enjoys interceding weapon use into his battles, choosing equipment that is both pretty, and deadly. However, most of his weaponry works hand in hand with his fuuinjutsu, resulting in tattooed or previously sealed weapons to pop up when the opportunity arises. Typically when fighting Tosa, one needs to constantly be watching for simple actions as something that looks so innocent, really isn't. This style plays with what one perceives to be usually safe and makes it dangerous. One's surroundings are always important to watch as well, as Tosa uses them to his benefit in order to masterfully, and slyly, place his seals whichever what way he wishes. Essentially, like a fisherman, he waits patiently for the bite but once it comes, he yanks hard and attempts to reel in his catch.

Code:: [center]<img src="http://i536.photobucket.com/albums/ff323/Callmelover/Tosa6_zps23cd732f.png" title="Property of Becks & Trey" alt="Property of Becks & Trey" style="margin-bottom: 0px;"><table style="padding-left: 50px; background: #7d7d7d; width: 480px; cellspacing="0"><tr><td style="border-left: 0px solid #dae1e8; border-right: 1px solid #dae1e8;"><a href="#1" style="text-decoration:none; color:#dae1e8;"> The Shinobi.</a></td><td style="border-right: 1px solid #dae1e8; padding-left:5px;"><a href="#2" style="text-decoration:none; color:#dae1e8;">Appearance.</a></td><td style="border-right: 1px solid #dae1e8;padding-left:5px;"><a href="#3" style="text-decoration:none; color:#dae1e8;">Personality.</a></td><td style="border-right: 1px solid #dae1e8; padding-left:5px;"><a href="#4" style="text-decoration:none; color:#dae1e8;">History.</a></td><td style="border-right: 0px solid #dae1e8; padding-left:5px;"><a href="#5" style="text-decoration:none; color:#dae1e8;">Combat Style.</a></td></tr></table><div style="padding-top: -5px; border-style: solid; border-width: 0px; border-color:black; width: 480px; height: 450px; margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;"><a name="1"></a>
[table style="width: 480px; font-size:12px;"][tr][td][font=calibri][color=#7b7b7b][b]Name:[/b] Sai, Tosatsu.
[b]Age:[/b] Twenty seven.
[b]Sex:[/b] [img]http://i536.photobucket.com/albums/ff323/Callmelover/Male_zps1ed5afa7.gif[/img]
[b]Rank:[/b] Chūnin [Jōnin Skill Level]
[b]Profession:[/b] [url=http://www.ultimateshinobi.org/t6023-protection-service-ninja-saboteur]Protection Service Ninja.[/url]
[b]Origin:[/b] Kaminari no Kuni
[b]Affiliation:[/b] Kumogakure no Sato.
[b]Specialties:[/b] Fūinjutsu, Weaponry
[Main: Close-ranged; Sub: Mid-ranged]
[b]Elemental Affinities:[/b] Raiton, Doton.
[b]Current Establishments:[/b] [url=http://www.ultimateshinobi.org/f164-shopping-strip]Amaikoi Chashitsu - Sweet Love Tearoom [Kumogakure Location][/url] ; [url=http://www.ultimateshinobi.org/f103-cherry-blossom-creek] Amaikoi Chashitsu - Sweet Love Tearoom [Konohagakure Location][/url][/color][/font][/td]
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[b]Aliases:[/b]
[i]Sumi Auto[/i], [b]外に結んで[/b]; literally translates to ‘inked out.’ Considering the man is essentially covered in tattoos, the alias seems fitting enough. Unknowingly, this name is the one he utilizes when running his tearoom, 'Amaikoi Chashitsu.' He is seen as an aloof proprietor that is enthusiastic about his trade and often borders on the line of eccentric with his severe case of verbal diarrhea. All patrons recognize that he is not entirely well mentally and thus, brush off his caustic words with warm smiles.

[i]Tosa[/i], [b]土佐[/b]; used in an affectionate manner; few refer to him as such. Preferably, Tosatsu wishes for people to address him using his full name, partially because he finds it humorous that the addition of ‘slaughter’ needs to be inputted into every sentence that someone directs at him, as well as the irony that can be found when a woman screams his name when they’re together in bed. In some ways he recognizes the immaturity of such logic, but he dismisses the childishness of his actions, justifying it as the need to take pleasure in the simplest of things, regardless of what Mill preaches about lesser pleasures: “[i]Better to be a pig satisfied than Socrates dissatisfied[/i].”</div>[/td]
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[center][b][u]Appearance[/u][/b][/center]

To go with the typical generalization of most anti-hero characters, Tosatsu is one bad-ass looking fellow. With hair that has its own personality, the undistinguished white or lavender mess of locks are almost never controlled; resembling a severe case of bedhead with gel. And even though they seem to stand at gravity defying heights, no matter how often he cards his fingers through it in frustration, it never seems to falter from its original, disorganized style. On top of his hair that has its own area code, Tosatsu sports lavender irises, a watered out purple that seems to be forever misleading. Rather than smiling slyly with his thin lips, the man is more oft to give away his deviance with his eyes. They are almost always mischievous, thus hiding his intent beyond trouble. Aside from the notable hair and orbs, there is nothing else special about his face; his features aristocratic and angular, but nothing worth mentioning.

Moving forward; Tosatsu stands at an admirable six feet with a bone structure that hints of a scrawny disposition. However, being a shinobi, the man’s muscles are well toned, resulting in him weighing in at one hundred sixty five pounds, creating a vision of a lithe panther ready to strike – albeit a white one. To cover the multitude of tattoos that decorate his body, Tosa wears many layers of clothing. Leisurely when he is not on missions or some other, uninteresting ninja errand, Tosatsu lounges around in what he deems is ‘appropriate wear.’ Never one to wander around without looking put together, the white panther usually dons outfits that don’t necessarily ‘fit with the times’. Garbed in leather or fabric jackets that range from tan to black and then to white, Tosa refrains from showing as much skin as possible, no matter the heat. Having been born with the Daosumi culture imbedded into him about the importance of obscuring their teachings, he hardly ever shows off his skin aside from his hands and face.

Thus, under his jackets, the man sports a variety of coloured spandex shirts that fit snugly to his form and slip into the waistband of his pants. These also are tucked into the dark combat boots he sports upon his feet, regardless of the event he is attending. Hidden within their leathered soles are knives that can be released by activating the seal he has placed on the toe of each boot.

When it comes to actual ninja wear, Tosatsu wears a white, stiff fabric jacket that rests just below his waist. Rather intricate in design, the coat has many snaps and zippers that allow him to open a certain aspect of the fabric in order to give him access to the many tattoos on his body. The collar is high, connected together by two simple snaps that he usually pulls apart before battle. On the shoulders rests two guards that are engraved with the Daosumi Crest. Tosatsu wears nothing beneath this jacket. His legs are garbed in simple navy slacks that are tucked into the aforementioned combat boots, thus completing his look. These pants do have seemingly random slits in them, but these again, provide access to his tattoos.

[i]Tattoo descriptions will be given later on.[/i]

[b]Forehead Protector:[/b] Not one to wear a gaudy piece of fabric upon his forehead and thus, damaging his do, Tosatsu displays the symbol of his loyalty on the collar of his jacket, the small sign engraved into the fabric with a dark thread. Underneath it, the man has also tattooed his village's strength on his chest, hoping that one day, it'll meld together to form his strongest seal. </div></center>[/td]
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[center][b][u]Personality[/u][/b][/center]

There really isn’t anything special about this man. Outwardly, he comes off as an easy-going fellow with an inclination to be flirtatious and a jack-ass, and in reality, he is. There is no ‘inner Tosatsu’ that is kind and gentle, selfless or self-sacrificing. If there is anything about his personality that is misleading, then it is the fact that he thinks people are even less important than what he makes them appear as outwardly. He is every bit as conniving as a villain and he enjoys playing it off that way as well, partially because it’s easier to be oneself, along with the fact that ladies seem to love the bad boy.

Aside from the fact that he is a complete jack-ass, Tosatsu is also very sarcastic. His humour comes off as both demeaning and honest to the point that people aren’t often sure if he is insulting them or merely joking. He finds it enjoyable confusing those around him, his fake smiles often present when he speaks, belying a personality that is rather nasty beneath the surface. He is generally calculating, which is the reason that he reins in his humor and behavior. In order to be successful in the world, one cannot scare away those that are essential for climbing the figurative ladder of the world, thus, the man resorts to veiled insults and condescending sarcasm to get his point across.

Rather intelligent, the man is known to be a strategist when it comes to battle. He likes to play with people, mentally and physically, often enjoying banter while fighting. He does have a large ego, not believing that he is more intelligent than everyone, but enjoying the fact that he recognizes that he isn’t. He isn’t really prideful as a person, understanding that sometimes, if one really wants something, than they need to drop those distinctions of propriety or supremacy in order to get them. This means that he doesn’t really view any action below him, and has no qualms with cheating in order to win. He’s rather competitive as an individual, which is why winning matters to him, no matter the situation. It is important for him to get the final word in, even if it is an off the shoulder comment about another’s mother. Now, this isn’t to say that he will argue over anything, as he views some topics or people aren’t worth arguing with or about as it’s just about as successful as smashing one’s head off a wall repeatedly, but he does search for those that will put up a good fight.

Respect only rises within him if the person can challenge him intelligently. He enjoys great banter and those that possess self-deprecating wit. Tosatsu doesn’t really count many people as his friends, but sees most in terms of those that are useful to him and those that aren’t. When it comes to his loyalty to his village, however, he is rather on a straight and narrow path. Beyond his selfishness, he views his home as a temple that cannot be disrupted by outside forces, and thus will defend it to his death. On the other hand, he takes great pleasure in political tyranny and therefore enjoys the chaos it can create. If civil war were to ever erupt, the white panther would most likely side with the side he believes would win, not necessarily the side he feels is more correct. For him to get where he needs to go, he needs to be on the winning side.

Tosatsu although driven by his own desires, can get rather comfortable in his position. He doesn’t see a large point in rushing to rank up when he knows that his techniques and strength are already increasing without the extra work and duties he’d get at a higher rank.

Generally, he likes and dislikes the following:

[u]He likes[/u]:
[list]
[*]Drawing
[*]Incensing others
[*]Intelligent adversaries
[*]Good Banter
[*]Corruption
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[u]He dislikes[/u]:
[list]
[*]Ignorance
[*]Stupidity
[*]Repeating himself
[*]Essentially people in general
[*]Remedial tasks that don’t need any sort of intelligence to complete
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[center][b][u]A Simple Beginning.[/u][/b][/center]

Just like a regular person, Tosatsu was borne from the womb of a woman, and not some spectre of a creature that was never around like some people rant about. This woman was obviously his mother since the idea of surrogate parenting hadn’t existed yet and she was alright at her job. She screwed up occasionally, having once left him in the middle of the woods at the river their people were bathing at, but hey, at least he was by water so he could roll over, drown, and die on his own terms. Heatstroke was utterly overrated. But aside from her occasional flub and theoretical, dropping the ball, she was a good parent. His dad wasn’t around much - that he remembered anyway, since he was a shinobi of Kumogakure and tended to spend his free time going out on missions to make money for his family.

Tosatsu never really held it against him, considering that he was doing it for their benefit, but it was harder growing up without an old man to look up to. Having been raised ninety percent by his mom, Tosatsu was rather close to her and they did typical mother and son things like go to the park, play, eat sweets and one time, she bought him a puppy. Unfortunately, since the family tended to travel often to visit their relatives that resided all over the place, the dog got left behind and since then, the man absolutely detests pets. Yeah, he’s a little bitter about that one.

Back on track now, his mother and father were both members of the Daosumi Clan. It was weird to a child that his parents were second cousins, but the ideas of incest didn’t really appear in his mind until later years. But since both were borne into the family name, they were very strict about the Clan rules and culture. Tosa grew up with a love for travel and the importance of hiding one’s body to protect the sacred sealing techniques of his family.

[center][b][u]Academy Days.[/u][/b][/center]

It wasn’t until he was ten that his parents admitted him into the academy. To him it was rather early, his personality only beginning to develop. But, to his immense relief, it was here at the academy that Tosatsu lost all belief in humanity that he had previously held onto as a child. All around him, idiotic people congregated, and for once in his life, the child didn’t know what to say or how to deal with it. Promptly after that, his parents removed him from school as he had a little meltdown which resulted in him condemning everyone in the nearby vicinity. When looking back on it, the lavender haired man likes to think he told the school he was leaving, but he was pretty sure his parents said something about being suspended.

Eventually after some time, he ended up going back to that hell-hole to finish his academy time where he soon found out that sometimes, it was better to not call everyone stupid openly, but behind a laughing smile or joke. Soon, people stopped talking horribly about him and merely decided that it was too bad that the Daosumi Clan had a mentally ill child. Tosatsu didn’t really mind the assumption as it allowed him to get away with more, so he continued on with that lie until it came time for his exit examinations from the academy and he prompted blew any idea that he was stupid, mentally ill, or challenged out of the water when he aced them. Yes, he was one of those intelligent children. Unfortunately for him, he knew it, flaunted it, and was promptly beat up for it.

[center][u][b]A Genin’s Trials.[/b][/u][/center]

Getting placed onto a team with two other genin was a new thing for Tosatsu. At this time, it was becoming obvious that this child did not work well with others, and it was here that he clearly displayed it. After his graduation though, his parents gave him his first tattoo, personally decorating his lower right cheek with the summoning contract that they also held. It was a rather moving moment for the kid, considering it was the biggest gift that his dad had ever given him. Feeling more superior than ever, Tosa brought this attitude to his new team only to come to the realization that if he kept looking down on others or remedial tasks, he wasn’t going to get anywhere with his training. Thus, he grudgingly retracted this view, becoming the teammate that dealt with the most unsavory tasks. As these acts continued, the growing boy soon began to realize how silly and pointless it was to look at these tasks as beneath him. If he continued thinking he was superior to everything, how the hell would he grow?

As he continued on his genin path, Tosatsu took some time for himself in order to train. Often, he would be seen going off on his own in one of those ‘sulky, emo walks’ to dwell over things. Unbeknownst to everyone around him, the child was beginning to plan his future. Around this time, the lavender haired boy gave himself his own first tattoo. Unknown to his parents, the man inked a simple lightning jutsu upon his tongue. It was a big success for him and soon, he began wearing the long sleeves that his conservative clan was known for. Eventually when he showed his parents the ‘badass seal’ he created, his father had merely looked at him and said wickedly, “Don’t use that on the ladies.”

It wasn’t until later that he realized what he meant.

So, as he journeyed along on this character-building quest to become stronger, and attempted to not get killed off all the while, Tosatsu became more in tune with his Clan Techniques. Often, people go off on those rants that tattoos are addictive, and as he went along, he agreed whole heartedly. By the end of his genin days, the young teen had acquired four tattoos. During this time, he continued to learn more about controlling his tongue around others and the finer skills of people manipulation. His team seemed to be easily manipulated and as they went through their examinations, Tosatsu used his new found skills to pass the genin examinations without much trial.

The hardest test was the one on one fighting where he couldn’t hide out and attack when the enemy was distracted, but his clan’s tattoos were wonderful surprises of death that made him proud to carry the Daosumi Name. Since his opponents couldn’t read the seals, his offhanded attacks with them often caught them on their heels, and combined with his sly, deprecating humour, Tosatsu soon became a formidable fighter people didn’t want to face – partially because he never shut up in battle. He purposefully did this, having figured out early on that if his opponent was to listen or even get riled by his comments, he created a distraction that would eventually lead to an opening in battle. Thus, he continued with his dry humor, allowing it to become a part of his combat style.

But back to the point; Tosatsu passed the genin examinations with another member of his team, his parents were proud, he was becoming a bad ass, blah, blah, blah.

[center][b][u]Chillin' at Chūnin.[/u][/b][/center]

So, after hitting chūnin, the fourteen year old decided that it was time to settle down. He really didn’t see the point in ranking up aggressively considering that the only thing a higher rank brought was more duties and more complaints. So, Tosatsu got into the habit of slinking off on his own to relax, hoping that some time away from the world would allow him to get more in touch with himself. Yeah, he was totally deep, and at one point or another he got into the habit of writing poetry and sketching scenery. However, these items of his ‘passionate’ side are almost always hidden away as he fears people will begin to believe that he’s less of an asshole than he actually is.

Not only was he getting in touch with his emotional side, but Tosatsu began spending more time creating personalized tattoos for himself. In some ways, he deviated away from his parents’ teaching when it came to the construction of their craft. Tosa began writing seals that were visible to the eye that followed some of the Daosumi’s universal lines. His family incensed, attempted to force him to get rid of his symbols, but the teen refused. He was proud of their lineage and wished to flaunt their seal. He didn’t really see the problem with it either, considering that their style of seal was deeply encrypted, but his family felt different and with that, Tosatsu broke the umbilical epical cord between his family and him.

The sudden distance between them wasn’t something he really mulled over. They had a spat that was pointless in his eyes, where he recognized that they wouldn’t ever agree with his decisions, so instead of being stuck in a stalemate with them, he said good-bye. If there was anything the growing man disliked, it was unmoving feelings, and thus, he pushed them away. This moment was essential in Tosatsu’s growth as it showed his ability to throw away anything that he felt hindered him. To deal with the sudden bastardization, Tosatsu slandered the final remembrance of his parents; he made their first gift visible.</div>[/td]
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By drawing them in, he waits until they are in the perfect distance for him to play to the strengths of his tattoos. When this occurs, he tries to efficiently put down his opponents, thus wasting little time and chakra. In addition to his fuuinjutsu, the user enjoys interceding weapon use into his battles, choosing equipment that is both pretty, and deadly. However, most of his weaponry works hand in hand with his fuuinjutsu, resulting in tattooed or previously sealed weapons to pop up when the opportunity arises. Typically when fighting Tosa, one needs to constantly be watching for simple actions as something that looks so innocent, really isn't. This style plays with what one perceives to be usually safe and makes it dangerous. One's surroundings are always important to watch as well, as Tosa uses them to his benefit in order to masterfully, and slyly, place his seals whichever what way he wishes. Essentially, like a fisherman, he waits patiently for the bite but once it comes, he yanks hard and attempts to reel in his catch.
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Last edited by Persy on Mon 16 Feb 2015, 10:27 am; edited 2 times in total

Age : 94 Posts : 369

STAP IT! THERE SO COOOL Tosa's Templates 287405

I freaking love your templates

Age : 33 Posts : 510

I would love to update mines but i dont know how.... i love these... its pure awesomeness

Age : 30 Posts : 311

Just a couple of notes as I am putting these codes out:

All codes are property of Becks. They may be used for skeletons without permission, but it would be appreciated if the creator is credited. Please respect the rite to creativity.

Tier III Speed:

Tier III Evasion:

Master of Seals:

Enormous Chakra Capacity:

Strategist:

Street Smarts:

Fūinjutsu Tattoos:

Custom Fūinjutsu:

Canon Fūinjutsu:

Custom Bukijutsu:

Canon Bukijutsu:

Academy Jutsu:

Ninjutsu:

Custom Weaponry:

Canon Weaponry:

Kits:

Custom Items:

Items:

Age : 30 Posts : 311

Second Edition for the Day:

Tosa's Templates Template6_zpsvyvk4fyf

All codes are property of Becks. They may be used for skeletons without permission, but it would be appreciated if the creator is credited. Please respect the rite to creativity.

Code:: [center][img]http://i536.photobucket.com/albums/ff323/Callmelover/Template6_zpsvyvk4fyf.png[/img]<table border="0"><tr><td><div style="font-size: 12px; font-family: calibri; text-align: justify; line-height: 10pt; padding: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; color: #1f1f1f; background: #00000; width: 450px;">All codes are property of Becks. They may be used for skeletons without permission, but it would be appreciated if the creator is credited. Please respect the rite to creativity.</div></center></td>
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Age : 31 Posts : 1836

"Hot, wet, and makes me groan - that's how I like my tea." <--- I'm almost ashamed to admit that this made me laugh.

On a side note, these are some fantastic templates. I be jealousy. Very jealousy.

Age : 30 Posts : 311

Keos' Template.
If there is anything you are not happy with, please PM me. If I can fix it, I will.

The wind was irresponsive. Quietly, the air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension that could not be defined. The Eagle wearily looked around, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied the bustling city of Wind Reach. Presently, he was in the company of his fellow Wind Eagles and they were praising the skies under the unexpected, but welcomed presence of Syna. Her bright rays had pierced the smog of winter to deliver a rare day of sunshine to the Inarta and his colony was determined to thank the gods for such a gift. As per usual, Syna merely smiled down on them; their aerodynamic forms twirling as they rode thermal after thermal; dipping and diving, climbing and descending in an intricate tale of connection. For a single moment, these creatures were connected to beings that they could hardly understand or even dream of coming close to in power. Zulrav, although not present, lifted their spirits heaven bound until Wingard knew that if there was nothing else after this moment, he would die happy.

This joyous flight seemed to be hampered, however. An instinctual feeling of wariness had settled into the Kelvic’s bones, niggling at his conscious to escape the rocky mountains of his home. His fellow raptures seemed to carry the same sentiment, he noted, as they soared above Mt. Skyinarta but refused to land, even after spending many chimes exercising. Some of the elder Eagles eventually gave in and settled back to the earth, but Wingard was not certain. Something was off. The winds that usually whispered gossip in a garbled voice to his ears was dead in its silence and the Eagle secretly wondered if something bad was about to happen. Frowning, the Wind Eagle finished his final flight pattern in their collaborative dance and bowed out, his form dipping to the right as he left. It would do him no good to avoid such feelings; perhaps it would be best if he simply returned home and investigated.

Landing at the outcropping of stone that led to his aerie, Wingard seamlessly transformed into his familiar human form, the sensation of cool stone beneath his feet a pleasant reminder of his nakedness. Smiling absently, he recalled the moment that such a thought would not have existed in his mind, Ainyi’s peaked cheeks a pleasant memory. The young Chiet’s embarrassment and then forced detachment over his state of dress was still rather humourous to the Eagle, and he idly contemplated if he should pay her a visit again. She was working from what he recalled, and perhaps the company of another would settle his ill-feelings. Pulling on a pair of bryda and his katinu, the russet-haired man stuffed his feet into his boots and began making the short journey to the Processing Center on foot.

Stepping out onto the path did nothing to ease his growing tension, however. His fellow neighbours were nowhere to be found and his keen ears picked up the distinctive sound of rising voices and skirmishes farther down. Alarmed, the Kelvic spun around and dove back into his aerie, retrieving the lone sword that lay guard at its entry. Strapping it to his body, he worked his legs into a run, aiming to figure out what the petch was going on. Fights often broke out in the winter, so it was hardly an uncommon occurrence that would warrant such expediency from him, but Wingard’s ill-feelings were pushing him forward. The initial sight of three Deks armed with crude weapons harassing two Endal hardly caused him to pause. His neighbours were easily eliminating the threat; their bodies nourished and strong. Letting out a quiet breath he hadn’t really realized he was holding, the Kelvic nodded his head in acknowledgement to the patrol team and continued on his way.

The trepidation was still present in the Eagle’s system, however. Keeping his eyes open for anymore conflict, he absentmindedly was impressed that the Dek had made it that far up the mountain. Generally, they didn’t ever bother coming that high up as it usually just led to ridicule and abuse, but it seemed that the hopelessness they faced was breeding courage – or idiocy. Entering the Processing Center, Wingard raked his eyes over the familiar setting. It seemed empty aside from the workers; the sounds of chains and woodcutting the only sounds he could register. Looking around, he spotted a familiar shade of red hair – a feat that could be considered impressive considering that red hair was practically the only colour that decorated the heads of every Inartan. Cackling inwardly at his enhanced eyesight, the Eagle slowly began making his way over, noting the way his prey was focusing on one thing or another.

A delightful wrinkle was imprinting itself on her skin, her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated. Ensuring the silence of his steps, he shielded his body from her view behind tables and hanging chains, hoping that the movement would obscure his figure. As he skirted behind her, utilizing the creeping shadows as well, he took the final steps towards her and rested his nose a mere centimeter or two from her ear. Until this point, he had been holding his breath, knowing that such a shift of air around her would alert her of his presence. He smiled rather mischievously before saying in a husky, masculine voice, “Boo.”

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Age : 30 Posts : 311

Mugen's Template.

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The wind was irresponsive. Quietly, the air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension that could not be defined. The Eagle wearily looked around, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied the bustling city of Wind Reach. Presently, he was in the company of his fellow Wind Eagles and they were praising the skies under the unexpected, but welcomed presence of Syna. Her bright rays had pierced the smog of winter to deliver a rare day of sunshine to the Inarta and his colony was determined to thank the gods for such a gift. As per usual, Syna merely smiled down on them; their aerodynamic forms twirling as they rode thermal after thermal; dipping and diving, climbing and descending in an intricate tale of connection. For a single moment, these creatures were connected to beings that they could hardly understand or even dream of coming close to in power. Zulrav, although not present, lifted their spirits heaven bound until Wingard knew that if there was nothing else after this moment, he would die happy.

This joyous flight seemed to be hampered, however. An instinctual feeling of wariness had settled into the Kelvic’s bones, niggling at his conscious to escape the rocky mountains of his home. His fellow raptures seemed to carry the same sentiment, he noted, as they soared above Mt. Skyinarta but refused to land, even after spending many chimes exercising. Some of the elder Eagles eventually gave in and settled back to the earth, but Wingard was not certain. Something was off. The winds that usually whispered gossip in a garbled voice to his ears was dead in its silence and the Eagle secretly wondered if something bad was about to happen. Frowning, the Wind Eagle finished his final flight pattern in their collaborative dance and bowed out, his form dipping to the right as he left. It would do him no good to avoid such feelings; perhaps it would be best if he simply returned home and investigated.

Landing at the outcropping of stone that led to his aerie, Wingard seamlessly transformed into his familiar human form, the sensation of cool stone beneath his feet a pleasant reminder of his nakedness. Smiling absently, he recalled the moment that such a thought would not have existed in his mind, Ainyi’s peaked cheeks a pleasant memory. The young Chiet’s embarrassment and then forced detachment over his state of dress was still rather humourous to the Eagle, and he idly contemplated if he should pay her a visit again. She was working from what he recalled, and perhaps the company of another would settle his ill-feelings. Pulling on a pair of bryda and his katinu, the russet-haired man stuffed his feet into his boots and began making the short journey to the Processing Center on foot.

Stepping out onto the path did nothing to ease his growing tension, however. His fellow neighbours were nowhere to be found and his keen ears picked up the distinctive sound of rising voices and skirmishes farther down. Alarmed, the Kelvic spun around and dove back into his aerie, retrieving the lone sword that lay guard at its entry. Strapping it to his body, he worked his legs into a run, aiming to figure out what the petch was going on. Fights often broke out in the winter, so it was hardly an uncommon occurrence that would warrant such expediency from him, but Wingard’s ill-feelings were pushing him forward. The initial sight of three Deks armed with crude weapons harassing two Endal hardly caused him to pause. His neighbours were easily eliminating the threat; their bodies nourished and strong. Letting out a quiet breath he hadn’t really realized he was holding, the Kelvic nodded his head in acknowledgement to the patrol team and continued on his way.

The trepidation was still present in the Eagle’s system, however. Keeping his eyes open for anymore conflict, he absentmindedly was impressed that the Dek had made it that far up the mountain. Generally, they didn’t ever bother coming that high up as it usually just led to ridicule and abuse, but it seemed that the hopelessness they faced was breeding courage – or idiocy. Entering the Processing Center, Wingard raked his eyes over the familiar setting. It seemed empty aside from the workers; the sounds of chains and woodcutting the only sounds he could register. Looking around, he spotted a familiar shade of red hair – a feat that could be considered impressive considering that red hair was practically the only colour that decorated the heads of every Inartan. Cackling inwardly at his enhanced eyesight, the Eagle slowly began making his way over, noting the way his prey was focusing on one thing or another.

A delightful wrinkle was imprinting itself on her skin, her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated. Ensuring the silence of his steps, he shielded his body from her view behind tables and hanging chains, hoping that the movement would obscure his figure. As he skirted behind her, utilizing the creeping shadows as well, he took the final steps towards her and rested his nose a mere centimeter or two from her ear. Until this point, he had been holding his breath, knowing that such a shift of air around her would alert her of his presence. He smiled rather mischievously before saying in a husky, masculine voice, “Boo.”

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