Hero: Tokugawa Yukio
Name: Tokugawa Yukio
Hair Color: Gold
Eye Color: Azure
Weapon: Skilled in many.
Tokugawa Yukio is a lighthearted man, whose fatal flaw is narcissism; love for the man gazing back at him in the mirror. The heir to a royal family, he inherited all the riches, yet learned of nothing of real importance. Eccentric, bold, and with intelligence that hides behind his proud stride and confident stature...Yukio is not a likely adversary. But the attire he wears, consisting of a coat of pristine white, houses a wide array of weaponry. Money and resources can go a long way for those plagued by a boredom that only the wealthy experience. No toy was too much or too dull for him to handle. His deep pockets had created a master of arms, with skilled knowledge of swords, explosives, chemicals, firearms, knives, you name it, he'll use it. As he grew up in life, his servants, who serves as his only parental figures, tried to shape him into a kind, caring individual, but he was too blind to be what they wanted. He became the overly confident, conceited Royal that many knew him as. But, every pretty face hides a secret, and his secret is the most grave of all. Though his pockets run deep, that money happens to find its way into the pockets of those fighting in the Resistance. Because of his Royal status, Yukio cannot actively participate in the Rebel factions. Yet, through false names and anonymous bank accounts, he is able to wire money to the Resistance Groups brave enough to contact the entity known as 'White Wolf.'
“Young Lord, won't you even consider listening to reason?” There was a kindly gentleman, back bent and eyes observing the young, golden-haired man with scrutiny.“Why should I? My pockets run deeper than the soil this home is built upon. Why not put it to better use?”The older man leaned back, his wrinkled face contorted with evident dismay. “You know the fate that befalls those that oppose---““Don't say it, Ansell. Why must you always worry about me? Why not put a little more faith in me, for once?” The headstrong noble paused for a moment, his warm gaze drifting off, before returning to the worried facade of his most loyal servant. “What is my name, Ansell?” The servant would blink repeatedly, slightly confused by the youth’s inquiry. “Tokugawa Yukio.”“That’s right, Ansell, my name is Yukio. And your name is Ansell.”“Where are you going with this, Young Lord?” “Yukio means ‘The One Favored By God,’ and your name means ‘God’s Protection.’ With you on my side, and with that man in the Heaven’s forcing my hand, directing my righteous action…what is there to fear?” Before Ansell could even respond to the youth’s statement, Yukio was already on his feet and heading, quickly, towards an exit. A real man wasn't ruled by fear, he was ruled by his convictions. And in Yukio’s mind, God was telling him that what he was doing was the right thing.
Against the wishes of his loyal servant and friend, Yukio would find himself, hours later, tracing the streets on the outskirts of town, the pristine white color of his coat making him stand out against his dark, dirty surroundings. He was practically asking to be bait for the more mischievous persons that lurked in the shadows. A cool shiver ran up his spine, as a hint of paranoia began to settle in. He glanced around him, and quickly turned, finding himself in an alley in back of some unused factory. A rich man striding along through these streets at night was a dead man walking.
“’Ey, look what we got ‘ere!” A sudden, raspy voice caught Yukio off guard, and he found himself frozen in place. Before Yukio knew what hit him, there were five men that had thrown themselves at him, hands grabbing, hitting, tearing. “Get off of me!” Yukio shouted, struggling against the muggers that held him down. He was about to grab for one of his weapons, when he felt cold steel pressed against his throat. Not good.“We know what some well-dressed prick like you is doin’ here! ‘Bet you went and ‘vaporized’ some poor sod, didn't ye’?!”Yukio’s eyes were struck wide at the man’s words. How dare they?! Quickly, Yukio’s hands were set in motion, one gripping the blade-wielding wrist, and another slipping into his coat to retrieved one of his most prized possessions, a sawed-off, white, double-barreled shotgun. He swung it in an upward motion, striking the chin of the big-mouthed man. He jumped forward to get away from the other attackers, only for one of them to sneak a boot before his own, and tripping him. Son of a… “Do you really think I'm an Agent!?” Yukio skittered across the ground, managing to finally rise up to his feet, shotgun aimed, and his other one also removed from the hiding place of his coat. He kept one gun trained on that mealy-mouthed man, while the other was pointed in the direction of his other attackers.
“My name is Tokugawa Yukio, the last of the Samurai royal bloodline. I am not, in any way, shape, or form, involved with the Government’s Agents.” Yukio paused to glance down at his outfit…wrinkled, torn, and dirty. He grimaced. He so hated to have his appearance tarnished! “How dare you attack me like that! Get a move on, or I'll blow holes in you wide enough to stick my hands through!” The more verbal of the bunch didn't move a muscle, until Yukio took an angered step towards him, finger stroking the trigger of his gun. A flash of animosity in those azure eyes, and Yukio’s hand was forced…in a sideways motion which struck the barrel of his gun against the man’s face. The man doubled over, stunned, before finding the will in him to speak.“This crazy son of a bitch is gonna shoot us because we got his clothes all dirty. You're just like the rest of ‘em! I hope you rot in Hell, you greedy fuck!” Yukio was seething at this point, eyes alive with a silent rage. The offending goons finally turned tail and ran ahead, leaving the stained and unhappy noble to hang his head, returning his guns back to his coat. Softly, he spoke to himself, aloud.“…And these are the people I risk my life for.”