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2 yrs ago
Current At the end of the day, God is everyone's bull.
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2 yrs ago
me the poopy you the pants.
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2 yrs ago
i relate.
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Kohaku


There had been a hope—however slim—that upon reaching Shade Academy, Kohaku would have some respite before having to return to the wastes again. It appeared she was wrong. After only a few weeks, the school year commenced, and rather than spending her days in a cool adobe classroom, she was rattling about in the back of a jeep with their destination far enough into the wastes that all she could see were dunes to their fore and a plume to their aft. She had never much liked the odd vehicle, or its operation. They were too loud, too visible, and used up way too much dust for her most common forays into the desert. She would have preferred to make whatever journey their overseer had planned for them on foot. Though, based on her appearance, perhaps that kind of exertion was too much for their ostensible leader. The girl had to remind herself on more than one occasion that her team's supervisor was a certified Huntress, for all that was worth.

It was worth mentioning again, it appeared. The young Faunus listened intently as the pilot of their craft insisted upon making introductions, then lead in with her own. The mention that she was the youngest Huntress at Shade's disposal to be given a team piqued her interest somewhat, although more for the implications it had about the academy itself. Did they truly have so many veteran Huntsmen to put on babysitting duty? Perhaps it explained why her kin had never run across too many back home. Before thoughts of that home could drag her from rumination to melancholy, one of her fellow students spoke up. She turned her head to observe him as he put himself on display.

It was... worrisome, that both he and their superior had focused their 'interesting fact' on their families, and where they came from. Not especially surprising; Vacuans were always a clannish lot, no matter where you seemed to go across the Kingdom. But it posed a problem for Kohaku, for reasons beyond the apprehension she felt pooling in her stomach at the thoughts of familial relations. She couldn't very well just lead with her own background in its unabridged form. The girl anxiously ran her thumb along the rough, rusted surface of her staff for a moment, pondering what to say, if anything at all.

Eventually, she decided. No need to bare herself to the world, or these people. Just say something trivial, anything at all.

"Kohaku. My name is Kohaku," She began, her tail curling uneasily as she piped up just loudly enough to be heard over the roar of their engine, "I'm not from anywhere important, and my favorite thing about Shade is the Dr. Piper machine outside the cafeteria. I, uhm, didn't have that kind of stuff, growing up."

It wasn't exactly a lie. That stupid contraption had taken far too many Lien from her in return for its sugary, addictive contents...

SEIMEI KEIKO
晴明 恵子


_______________________________________________


Physical Description
Despite the larger-than-life persona she tries to project, Keiko is in fact quite the opposite. Standing at only five feet in height, she is shorter than most girls in the valley, and fittingly lithe. Her features are soft and child-like, accentuated by her large, chestnut colored eyes that twinkle with a usually playful mirth. Framing her curiously innocent profile is an untidy mane of dark, lustrous brown hair, always sticking up this way and that, just as wild as the girl who bears it. The thick locks help highlight the relative paleness of her skin by comparison, smooth and unblemished despite the dirt beneath her fingernails or the devil-may-care manner she carries herself—an indication of her scholarly background, and one of the few she bears.

In spite of her potential for beauty, Keiko does not consider herself to be especially feminine, and does not dress as such. Her wardrobe is typically comprised of loose, comfortable kimono of a subdued color paired with the typical, tucked hakama of the village's laborers. Knee length black tabi and accompanying straw sandals clad her delicate feet, and she usually dawns a long, sleeveless haori when out and about in the village, the mon of her adoptive family painstakingly sewn into its back.


Character Conceptualization
Keiko's story is one of an outsider. Having been born beyond the idyllic peace of the village, in a hamlet that as far as anyone knows—or will never know—befell some sad fate or another, Keiko was dealt the black mark of a stranger despite having only ever known the lake and fields of Heiseina. She was but a toddler when she arrived, brought home by the village's Signkeeper one chilly fall day and taken in as a daughter in spite of their lack of relation.

In all ways, she was raised as a Seimei, a respected family of lore keepers who had for generations carefully catalogued and disseminated the Signs that kept life in Heiseina running smoothly. Yet she was never quite afforded the respect of her mother or late grandfather. In a community so small and traditional, any external entity was met with suspicion. Suspicion which colored the young girl's view of the utopia she called home from the earliest years.

It made raising an already difficult little girl all the harder. Precocious from the get-go, Keiko proved herself to be a bright, willful child. One aware enough to recognize the scorn that was leveled her way and respond in kind. She quickly developed the reputation of a troublesome little nuisance, in spite of her mother's best attempts to keep her in line while simultaneously fulfilling her own duties as Signkeeper.

Acting out was all the young Keiko could do to rebel against the injustices she felt—Heiseina was a picturesque settlement, where everybody knew everybody and everyone got along. But nobody seemed to want to get along with her. Just as they rejected her, she rejected them, and her developmental years were marked by an ever growing divide as her own actions worked to further ostracized her from her peers and their families. It wasn't until she was ten or eleven years old—when she began her Sign training—that things began to change, however slightly. Rambunctious as she was, her mother had deemed that she should begin putting her excess energy into learning the family's trade, an excellent decision in hindsight.

Inquisitive and curious, Keiko took to Signcraft like a duck to water. It occupied her keen mind, and provided her an avenue for praise in place of scolding she had become accustomed to. More importantly, it also sent a message to the community; she would be a useful contributor to the village as a whole, and would one day succeed her mother in her capacity of Signkeeper. As she grew from troublesome girl to quarrelsome young woman, Signcraft became her outlet and safe haven, something she excelled at that gave her worth, and made others acknowledge her even if they had misgivings in accepting her.

But no longer is she a girl. Now a woman grown, Keiko must contend with a fast approaching future. One of responsibility and dignity, of finding acceptance and belonging among those she had subtly railed against her entire life. If only she knew just how important finding that acceptance would be, in the trials to come.


Can't relate.
HOSHINO NORIAKI


6' 0" | 178 lb. | 17 | 2nd Year | Male

ERSONALITY
Noriaki has always been someone ruled by his emotions; he is a passionate person by nature, with all the advantages and pitfalls that comes with. He is courageous, audacious, and possesses a strong sense of personal justice. His hotblooded temperament leads him to be in equal parts reckless, tempestuous and prone to outburst. Following his expulsion from his previous highschool and the stain it left on him, he finds himself ever more struggling to contain his fiery temper, and increasingly disillusioned with his peers, leading him to lash out in stubborn defiance—another strong trait of his.

RCANA
Devil

ERSONA

BILITIES
Agi
Lunge
Tarukaja

RANSFORMATION
Noriaki's transformation isn't especially dazzling. His eyes lose their natural, bright blue hue in return for a vibrant, slit-eyed violet coloration. Complete with devilish fangs and a dark, black and purple jacket like something out of a JRPG, he looks more like an anti-hero than the righteous rabbelrouser he might like to pretend he is.

EAPON
Longsword

ISTORY
The circumstances of Noriaki's birth are, mercifully, uncommon enough. Born to a single mother just old enough to have graduated highschool, his early years were nothing to be envious of. His mother worked hard to provide a meager life for them, often leaving him with friends during work nights until he was old enough to fend for himself in their tiny Osaka apartment. It wasn't a bad life—he never went hungry, nor unloved—but it wasn't a fair one either. He hated seeing his sole parent work so hard just to scrape by, seeing the scorn society seemed to feel for her just because his dad wasn't in the picture. These early experiences shaped who he was. He learned to fight through struggle by example, and learned that the world wasn't a perfectly just place despite what his grade school teachers said. Perhaps most importantly, he learned that he didn't like that.

It was a recipe for disaster, to say the least. Full of piss and vinegar and with a dire lack of guidance at home, young Noriaki found himself scuffling with other youths more often than not. He had no outlet for his temper, or the indignation he felt when they pitied him for his home life. He wouldn't find one until he enrolled into junior highschool. Just like his temper, he was big for his age, and when his homeroom teacher suggested he join the school's baseball team, he took to it like a duck took to water. He had the talent to be good, and the drive to turn that talent into something meaningful. It also didn't hurt that being on the team provided incentive to keep the worst of his impulses in check.

Baseball was the driving force that kept the youth on the straight and narrow, away from the worse crowds that his circumstances might have driven others into. He made it into a fairly prestigious highschool in the Osaka area by way of recommendation from his coaches, and found his stride on the team during his first year. By all accounts, he had a bright future in the sport—a year or two on the team, and a Koshien was almost assured. From there, maybe even a pro career, if his advisers were telling the truth. The potential to rise so far made his inevitable fall so much more tragic.

Towards the end of his first year, he snapped. To hear it told, he stormed into the locker room after practice and assaulted the club's captain with a bat, leaving him on crutches for the rest of the year after that bat broke not one, but both of his knees before the coach could get to them. The reasons were certainly the subject of rumor—jealousy at his position, mistreatment gone too far, a girl—but he wasn't privy to most of it, on account of the subsequent expulsion and introduction to the juvenile justice system. The whole affair robbed him of his last few months of freshmen year, his prospects, and his passion.

It was only by his markedly good behavior up until that point, and perhaps the oh so hated pity he was subjected to due to his familial situation, that he got off relatively light. They wanted to make sure his punishment didn't interfere with his education. So, he was allowed to attend school in the following spring after a stint in juvenile detention, albeit in another city after his mother insisted on getting a new start—the rumors hadn't just stopped filled school, but the neighborhood as well.

So his arrival in Kyoto was foretold.

ISC
Works part-time at a convenience store on weekends. Really likes cats.
first.
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