Crew positions:
Captain/Navigator: Claimed
Swordsman: Claimed
Cook: Vacant
Doctor: Vacant
Shipwright: Claimed
Gunner/Marksman/Sniper: Vacant
Musician/Entertainer: Vacant
Archeologist: Claimed
Helmsman: Vacant
[CHAR] One Piece: The Romance of Blackfin (OPEN)
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Zeroth
Captain/Navigator: Claimed
Swordsman: Claimed
Cook: Vacant
Doctor: Vacant
Shipwright: Claimed
Gunner/Marksman/Sniper: Vacant
Musician/Entertainer: Vacant
Archeologist: Claimed
Helmsman: Vacant
Name: Kailani
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Species: Human
Height: 5’4’’
Weight: 123 lbs
Devil Fruit: None
Weapons
Bone-tooth Dagger: This little dagger has a silver of metal running along the edge of bone and dotting the point to give it that extra bite.
Carving Knife: A short blade of metal set into a bleached-bone handle.
Skills
Background
The island of Pekelo. Lonesome, except for the closely knit tribe that webbed out over the land. Secluded, except for the crash of broken ships and bodies against the shores. Quiet, except for the rolling thunder that ruled the skies without end.
The crescent island of Pekelo made its home in West Blue, but remained a stranger to its neighbours for generations. Nestled in the eye of the Ka Li’Ai, a storm that raged without end, nothing left the island and nothing arrived - in one piece, anyway. While the island and its inhabitants were self-sufficient, they were also ignorant of the outside, except for the information obtained by those who cared to scrape out of the broken hulls of ships unlucky enough to get too close to the Ka Li’Ai, cracked open on the shores. Of course, most Pekelians were far more interested in the feast of flesh offered to them by the great storm, breaking up the monotony of their staples. It made no difference to them after all, no one survived the storm.
Yet there were always oddities.
Most of those who lived on Pekelo accepted this was their place in life, none could fight against Ka Li’Ai. Kailani, daughter of the village chief, didn’t. From a young age she took delight in exploring the rotting carcasses of the great wooden and metal ships, seeing how everything was put together, and her mind seemed to have an innate understanding in grasping how everything worked. Whenever a new vessel washed ashore, a splintered coffin for the crew contained within, Kailani was always eager to begin stripping the inside of anything useful, dragging her best friend Mella along while the other tribe members were more interested in retrieving any corpses that weren’t too water logged.
At first, it was amusing watching them being so interested. It was always believed that she would grow out of it, like many children curious of the great man-made beasts. Yet as she grew older Kailani’s interest never faltered. Her obsession became manic. Mella had never held the same desire to tinker with the ships, her sharp eyes instead picking up any information about that outside world, and musign adventure must lay out there. In time the two girls began to try to repair the more intact ships. That’s when it was no longer a joke, no longer an adorable little quirk. It didn’t stop them.
The first few attempts to get the ships into working order varied in success. Sometimes her parents found out what she was doing and set the nearly repaired vessel ablaze, sometimes it was trial and error rebuilding it - the very first one Kailani pushed back into the water, she didn’t think to anchor it and the thing drifted right back into the storm. Oops.
It came to a head when finally, finally Kailani had a ship she was willing to brave the storm with. Mella was all too eager to join her, trusting her friend’s ‘expertise’ with the ship and the thought of the unknown thrilling. There were so many ships that had broken upon Ka Li’Ai, but this, this was the one.
It wasn’t.
Flashes of thunder, rocking waves, the crack of wood.
Crimson mixing in the water.
Mella’s screaming, cut off as her head disappeared beneath the waves.
The grain of wood beneath Kailani’s fingers, clutching to this single life line as long as she could.
It all came back in flashes, dreams and nightmares. The last intact memory Kailani had before waking up was Mella grinning to her as they pushed the boat off the shores. Then the roof of her bedroom, the particular stink of the island’s disinfectant, her father’s angry, sad eyes watching her, and her mother’s voice yelling. A pain that burned across her torso.
Kailani bore the mark of her failure, wicked scars that tore across her front from shoulder to hip. The healer had suggested she had hit one of the sharp reefs surrounding the island as she was pulled back to shore. Mella didn’t even have that - Mella didn’t have anything.
Mella was swallowed whole by the storm, and never returned..
As soon as she could move again Kailani returned to her ships - or what was left after her mother set them ablaze in a fury - to try and to figure out how to make them better, stronger. Perhaps it was this unfaltering attitude that made it seem she didn’t care about her best friend’s death, which made Mella’s family incensed. Even the strongest cries for justice went unheard however - the Chieftain’s word was law, and though Kailani suffered punishment for her actions it wasn’t nearly as harsh had her and Mella’s fates been reversed. Unrest grew, which was why the Chieftain suggested the Tournament.
In the past, when a Chieftain’s child couldn’t pick or outright refused a suitable partner, it was decided via a tournament of skill and strength. Simple and to the point: a fight. The only rule was to not cripple or kill the other competitors. Otherwise, it was a free for all of strength, of wits, of cunning.
With her impending bond to another fast approaching, Kailani could only put her nose to the grindstone for one last chance, one last attempt at leaving the island. Repairing another ship didn’t work, and only shards remained of the great beasts, leaving her one option. She would build her own.
She owed it to her friend to see what was out there, after all.
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Species: Human
Height: 5’4’’
Weight: 123 lbs
Devil Fruit: None
Weapons
Bone-tooth Dagger: This little dagger has a silver of metal running along the edge of bone and dotting the point to give it that extra bite.
Carving Knife: A short blade of metal set into a bleached-bone handle.
Skills
- (Are You Really an) Expert Shipwright: Having been afforded the opportunity to pick apart and examine nearly all but the largest of ships sailing the seas, Kailani not only has years of experience with them, but a seemingly innate understanding. The former has afforded her hands-on know-how, the latter an almost ravenous absorption of knowledge she couldn’t find on the island. Well, except for one thing. Although she tore through whatever teachings she could find off the possessions of dead sailors, Kailani is largely self-taught. As such, when discussing ships she has her own terminology, which often makes it seem as though she has no idea what she’s talking about. Who calls the Fin a ‘rudder’? What a stupid name.
- Constructive Hands: Living on an island that was completely self-sufficient, everyone had to pull their weight - even the daughter of the Chieftain. Kailani is quite adept at either jury-rigging parts or outright crafting them herself, and not just when it comes to ships! She can have an operable shelter up within minutes if the necessary supplies are within reach, and can whittle a replacement part just as quick.
- Iron Can(nibal) Stomach: Although Kailani’s tribe never killed anyone who came to the island, they never had to - Ka Li’Ai never left a survivor. It was often seen as a gift of flesh when a body or entire crew would wash ashore, breaking up the monotony of their island staples. Though respect was paid to the body by always burning the heart, the rest of it was fair game. As Chieftain’s daughter, she’s had her fair share of delicacies. As such not only can she stomach actual odd meals, but Kailani is also quite adept at seeing bodies in a detached way and is never made queasy by death.
Background
The island of Pekelo. Lonesome, except for the closely knit tribe that webbed out over the land. Secluded, except for the crash of broken ships and bodies against the shores. Quiet, except for the rolling thunder that ruled the skies without end.
The crescent island of Pekelo made its home in West Blue, but remained a stranger to its neighbours for generations. Nestled in the eye of the Ka Li’Ai, a storm that raged without end, nothing left the island and nothing arrived - in one piece, anyway. While the island and its inhabitants were self-sufficient, they were also ignorant of the outside, except for the information obtained by those who cared to scrape out of the broken hulls of ships unlucky enough to get too close to the Ka Li’Ai, cracked open on the shores. Of course, most Pekelians were far more interested in the feast of flesh offered to them by the great storm, breaking up the monotony of their staples. It made no difference to them after all, no one survived the storm.
Yet there were always oddities.
Most of those who lived on Pekelo accepted this was their place in life, none could fight against Ka Li’Ai. Kailani, daughter of the village chief, didn’t. From a young age she took delight in exploring the rotting carcasses of the great wooden and metal ships, seeing how everything was put together, and her mind seemed to have an innate understanding in grasping how everything worked. Whenever a new vessel washed ashore, a splintered coffin for the crew contained within, Kailani was always eager to begin stripping the inside of anything useful, dragging her best friend Mella along while the other tribe members were more interested in retrieving any corpses that weren’t too water logged.
At first, it was amusing watching them being so interested. It was always believed that she would grow out of it, like many children curious of the great man-made beasts. Yet as she grew older Kailani’s interest never faltered. Her obsession became manic. Mella had never held the same desire to tinker with the ships, her sharp eyes instead picking up any information about that outside world, and musign adventure must lay out there. In time the two girls began to try to repair the more intact ships. That’s when it was no longer a joke, no longer an adorable little quirk. It didn’t stop them.
The first few attempts to get the ships into working order varied in success. Sometimes her parents found out what she was doing and set the nearly repaired vessel ablaze, sometimes it was trial and error rebuilding it - the very first one Kailani pushed back into the water, she didn’t think to anchor it and the thing drifted right back into the storm. Oops.
It came to a head when finally, finally Kailani had a ship she was willing to brave the storm with. Mella was all too eager to join her, trusting her friend’s ‘expertise’ with the ship and the thought of the unknown thrilling. There were so many ships that had broken upon Ka Li’Ai, but this, this was the one.
It wasn’t.
Flashes of thunder, rocking waves, the crack of wood.
Crimson mixing in the water.
Mella’s screaming, cut off as her head disappeared beneath the waves.
The grain of wood beneath Kailani’s fingers, clutching to this single life line as long as she could.
It all came back in flashes, dreams and nightmares. The last intact memory Kailani had before waking up was Mella grinning to her as they pushed the boat off the shores. Then the roof of her bedroom, the particular stink of the island’s disinfectant, her father’s angry, sad eyes watching her, and her mother’s voice yelling. A pain that burned across her torso.
Kailani bore the mark of her failure, wicked scars that tore across her front from shoulder to hip. The healer had suggested she had hit one of the sharp reefs surrounding the island as she was pulled back to shore. Mella didn’t even have that - Mella didn’t have anything.
Mella was swallowed whole by the storm, and never returned..
As soon as she could move again Kailani returned to her ships - or what was left after her mother set them ablaze in a fury - to try and to figure out how to make them better, stronger. Perhaps it was this unfaltering attitude that made it seem she didn’t care about her best friend’s death, which made Mella’s family incensed. Even the strongest cries for justice went unheard however - the Chieftain’s word was law, and though Kailani suffered punishment for her actions it wasn’t nearly as harsh had her and Mella’s fates been reversed. Unrest grew, which was why the Chieftain suggested the Tournament.
In the past, when a Chieftain’s child couldn’t pick or outright refused a suitable partner, it was decided via a tournament of skill and strength. Simple and to the point: a fight. The only rule was to not cripple or kill the other competitors. Otherwise, it was a free for all of strength, of wits, of cunning.
With her impending bond to another fast approaching, Kailani could only put her nose to the grindstone for one last chance, one last attempt at leaving the island. Repairing another ship didn’t work, and only shards remained of the great beasts, leaving her one option. She would build her own.
She owed it to her friend to see what was out there, after all.
Name: Mushuro Takeuchi
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Species: Human
Height: 5'7
Weight: 135
Appearance: Mushuro's appearance is deliberately odd and designed to stand out as a rebellion against his being trained and raised to be an inconspicuous assassin. To that end, he's decided to wear a massive panda hoodie and matching panda leggings complete with paws along with a bright white jacket and white gloves. He still wears a traditional ninja mask over the lower part of his face, but in order to eliminate all possibility of stealth he wears a bell attached to a collar around his neck so it rings when he moves. What can be seen of his actual appearance are his dark brown eyes, olive skin and black hair that's usually mussy from wearing his panda hoodie.
Devil Fruit(if any): None
Weapons: Two black bladed ninjato with white-wrapped handles that he uses either together or individually.
Skills: Mushuro has been trained by his family of ninjas non-stop starting from when he was around five years old. He discovered a passion for swordplay and the physical training aspect of the ninja arts, though he did his best to neglect his stealth training and assassination techniques. He still has some ability with sneaking, but prefers to ignore it in honor of a fair and honorable fight, honing his body and skill with a sword to absurd extremes as much as he can, though he did learn some skill at unarmed combat as well. Thanks to his family forcing him into more and more extreme 'Punishment Games' he also has superhuman durability and pain tolerance and an immunity to most if not all poisons.
Due to his relatively isolated life he lacks most non-fighting life skills. In spite of that, he's actually insightful in terms of raw intelligence and the ability to make decent inferences out of things he learns and has fairly decent knowledge of the world and its customs and the ability to adapt on the fly to new environments, a key skill for any assassin.
Mushuro also has one unusual quirk to his biology. If he eats more than a small amount of meat at a time, he flies into a berserker rage. In this state his strength and speed increase far past their already superhuman levels but he attacks in a blind rage unable to tell friend from foe. Once this boost of energy and power wears off however, Mushuro becomes incredibly tired and lethargic. This 'allergy' of sorts usually means he refrains from eating meat, though fish is oddly fine.
Background:
Mushuro was raised and trained on his family's small, isolated compound on Fuuma Island as the youngest member of the little known but highly skilled and respected Takeuchi clan of ninja. From the time he first began his training, Mushuro was obsessed with the art of the sword and wanted to prove his skill through honorable duels. His family considered such an attitude to be aberrant and shameful for a ninja and worked to figuratively and literally beat him out of it with increasingly sadistic 'punishment games'. He was able to endure all of the tortures his family invented for him, but never gave up on his dreams.
Everything changed for him one day when he was chained to the rocks sticking up near the shore of Fuuma Island. A crew of pirates saw him chained there with the rising waves crashing into him higher and higher, and broke his chains to set him free. They inspired him with tales of freedom and the life of adventure and honest battle that pirates were obligated to live. He was immediately filled with adoration for the pirate way of life and easily convinced to join their crew and sail away from Fuuma Island and his family with not a single word to them.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before he found out their real purpose for sailing so close to Fuuma Island and then 'rescuing' him. The crew were actually slavers operating as part of the nefarious Blackswell Pirates. They had heard of the skilled ninjas of Fuuma Island and were looking to hire them in order to help enslave innocents. Getting a ninja for free was just a happy coincidence to them, one they intended to put to good use. However, once Mushuro found out their true intentions and the sort of work they intended to have him do, he was outraged. He beat up the whole crew and threw all of them overboard, damaging a good portion of the ship itself in his anger. Unfortunately he didn't know how to sail the ship without others onboard to do it for him, and was left drifting on a damaged ghost ship hoping the wind and tides would get him to land safely.
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Species: Human
Height: 5'7
Weight: 135
Appearance: Mushuro's appearance is deliberately odd and designed to stand out as a rebellion against his being trained and raised to be an inconspicuous assassin. To that end, he's decided to wear a massive panda hoodie and matching panda leggings complete with paws along with a bright white jacket and white gloves. He still wears a traditional ninja mask over the lower part of his face, but in order to eliminate all possibility of stealth he wears a bell attached to a collar around his neck so it rings when he moves. What can be seen of his actual appearance are his dark brown eyes, olive skin and black hair that's usually mussy from wearing his panda hoodie.
Devil Fruit(if any): None
Weapons: Two black bladed ninjato with white-wrapped handles that he uses either together or individually.
Skills: Mushuro has been trained by his family of ninjas non-stop starting from when he was around five years old. He discovered a passion for swordplay and the physical training aspect of the ninja arts, though he did his best to neglect his stealth training and assassination techniques. He still has some ability with sneaking, but prefers to ignore it in honor of a fair and honorable fight, honing his body and skill with a sword to absurd extremes as much as he can, though he did learn some skill at unarmed combat as well. Thanks to his family forcing him into more and more extreme 'Punishment Games' he also has superhuman durability and pain tolerance and an immunity to most if not all poisons.
Due to his relatively isolated life he lacks most non-fighting life skills. In spite of that, he's actually insightful in terms of raw intelligence and the ability to make decent inferences out of things he learns and has fairly decent knowledge of the world and its customs and the ability to adapt on the fly to new environments, a key skill for any assassin.
Mushuro also has one unusual quirk to his biology. If he eats more than a small amount of meat at a time, he flies into a berserker rage. In this state his strength and speed increase far past their already superhuman levels but he attacks in a blind rage unable to tell friend from foe. Once this boost of energy and power wears off however, Mushuro becomes incredibly tired and lethargic. This 'allergy' of sorts usually means he refrains from eating meat, though fish is oddly fine.
Background:
Mushuro was raised and trained on his family's small, isolated compound on Fuuma Island as the youngest member of the little known but highly skilled and respected Takeuchi clan of ninja. From the time he first began his training, Mushuro was obsessed with the art of the sword and wanted to prove his skill through honorable duels. His family considered such an attitude to be aberrant and shameful for a ninja and worked to figuratively and literally beat him out of it with increasingly sadistic 'punishment games'. He was able to endure all of the tortures his family invented for him, but never gave up on his dreams.
Everything changed for him one day when he was chained to the rocks sticking up near the shore of Fuuma Island. A crew of pirates saw him chained there with the rising waves crashing into him higher and higher, and broke his chains to set him free. They inspired him with tales of freedom and the life of adventure and honest battle that pirates were obligated to live. He was immediately filled with adoration for the pirate way of life and easily convinced to join their crew and sail away from Fuuma Island and his family with not a single word to them.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before he found out their real purpose for sailing so close to Fuuma Island and then 'rescuing' him. The crew were actually slavers operating as part of the nefarious Blackswell Pirates. They had heard of the skilled ninjas of Fuuma Island and were looking to hire them in order to help enslave innocents. Getting a ninja for free was just a happy coincidence to them, one they intended to put to good use. However, once Mushuro found out their true intentions and the sort of work they intended to have him do, he was outraged. He beat up the whole crew and threw all of them overboard, damaging a good portion of the ship itself in his anger. Unfortunately he didn't know how to sail the ship without others onboard to do it for him, and was left drifting on a damaged ghost ship hoping the wind and tides would get him to land safely.
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