Asura

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

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a date where smartphones exist
i don't fucking know pm

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"Redirect them through my fists."

There was a level of absurdity to the assignment that almost made it comical. Almost. He had never been in a club before. Not for the school's lack of trying, granted. The athletic clubs constantly hounded him for membership all through middle school and freshman year, trying to secure the school's novelty giant for their clubs. Until the baseball incident, at least—the invitations dried up after that, for some reason. His rejects had been for a reason; he hated the idea of them. Having to waste his afternoons hanging out with people he didn't even get to choose, doing some stupid sport for the sake of the coach's ego. If he had the choice, he would have happily traded his punishment with Shiori. At least she got to go back to her normal life after a week. He'd be stuck with the boxing club until he did something to get himself kicked out.

He gave a passing glance to the redhead, noticing how little she bothered to fight back against her sentencing. She undoubtedly knew it too—she was getting the light end of the stick, just as Touga-sensei said. That just seemed unfair. It was her fault in some small manner. If she hadn't have insisted they leave, he would have ended up clubbing the kid in the ribs a couple of times. Much less enticing for the sharks in the newspaper club, who had inevitably swarmed the druggie while he was clonked out on the pavement. Plus, if she hadn't been smoking back there, he wouldn't have been enticed to join her.

"Y'know, sensei," He piped up, deciding to choose violence for a second time that week, "If you're so insistent the boxing club teaches discipline, why isn't she comin' with me? I'm sure they have plenty of equipment that needs cleanin'. Don't they have a position for the person that does that kinda stuff?"

It was like they said; misery loved company, and no good deed went unpunished.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
i don't fucking know pm

---

Why had he done it? That was easy enough to answer—he was hurt and wanted to hurt somebody else in return. Fat chance he'd ever admit to that in any company, much less one made up of a huffy teacher and a wise cracking redhead. Luckily, that very same redhead answered for him, and saved him for having to come up with some kind of lame excuse for why he decided to brain the poor fucker. At least the kid seemed to have a reputation to him that ensured Ryusei didn't have to feel too guilty for his actions. Not that he would have anyway. Of course, the drilling for an answer wasn't the reason they had been brought here. He knew that from experience. What teachers were more concerned with was making a show of their authority and punishing him for stepping out of line. As if detention mattered in a shithole with nothing to do.

It was perhaps to Touga-sensei's credit as an educator that she had managed to do something none of his previous educators had done, and actually surprise him with her declaration. The towering teen gave the paper a once over, then directed his icy blues to the woman herself, quirking a single brow.

"I can't become a proper member of society by hitting people, so to teach me that lesson you're going to put me in the club where I hit people?" He asked, resisting the urge to point out that he hadn't used his fists on Sakaguchi. He didn't want to risk the school having a fucking skateboarding club. Besides, he had other, more important things to do. Like antagonize his overseer about her choice.

"Yeah, no, that checks out. That'll learn me real good, sensei."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
i don't fucking know pm

---

Although it was undoubtedly not her intention, the long walk down the hall to the faculty room practically was a welcoming party for Ryusei. How many times had he faced similar marches, carted off behind some irate teacher so they could dress him down in the sanctity of their precious lounge, surrounded by their fellow wet blankets. The novelty of it had long since worn off on him, leaving behind a kind of familiarity that was almost comforting in its normalcy. He cast an idle glance Shiori's way, figuring the girl had been through this before herself—she seemed calm enough at the prospect of academic discipline, and the kinds of girls who smoked behind the school during lunch break were typically also the kind who pulled each others hair in the parking lot after hours.

The emptiness of the faculty room was a pleasant little surprise, however. Maybe they liked to mix it up here at Utsubyo High? Or maybe they wanted to go easy on him since it was his first offense? The answer to that inquiry came quickly enough, riding the heels of a confirmation of earlier assumptions; it seemed their homeroom teacher was eager to pin the blame on the resident delinquent in lieu of the new arrival. He had to hide the little grin it almost brought to his face. He had half a mind to agree with Touga-sensei, if only to see the reaction it would get out of his redheaded co-conspirator. Of course, that would make him a rat, and the only thing he hated worse than gossipy little shits were those who went crying to authority whenever something went wrong.

Plus, he hadn't so much as built a bridge with the only fellow smoker he knew yet. Now wasn't the time to burn it down. Who else would he bum off of between classes?

"Sorry, sensei, but if my own ma can't put me up to something, I don't think fire crotch over here can either," The teen admitted, raising his arms as if to gesture to himself, "I am what I am."

You Can Become a Hero!

🦈

MIZUSHIMA MURASAME
水島 村鮫

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx // INFO D A T A Full Name - Mizushima Murasame Hometown - Osaka, Osaka Prefecture, Japan Quirk Type - Mutation Gender - Male - // PERSONALITY P E R S O N A L I T Y Neurotic Growing up as a self-proclaimed 'freak of nature' has left a lasting impact on Murasame. He is something of a bundle of nerves, existing in an almost perpetual state of self-consciousness over his body and the impact it has on those around him. While he hasn't quite devolved into self-loathing, he has significant anxiety in regards to how others perceive him, and has a tendency of isolating himself as a result of these anxieties. When he has to interface with others, he is incredibly careful to conduct himself in as amicable a way as possible, in a life-long attempt to convince others he is not, in fact, going to eat or otherwise maim them. Earnest Despite possessing one of the best poker faces this side of Sapporo, Murasame is a true straight shooter. He is hard-working and honest, with a strong sense of personal justice to boot. Once he's set his mind to something or thrown himself behind a cause, he follows through on it wholeheartedly and without complaint. His strong sense of conviction is one of the few things which help him power through his many anxieties and hangups, and one of the few things that can stir him into action when he would otherwise be hindered by them. Compassionate As much a result of the feelings of ostracism as it is an innate trait of his, Murasame is a kind, empathetic individual. He is gentle and tends to give others the benefit of the doubt, having been on the receiving end of surface deep, judgemental behavior more times than he would like to admit. When interacting with his peers, he regularly puts their feelings and concerns at the forefront of his mind, and is always ready to offer a helping hand to those in need.

Physical Description Hulking. Freakish. Terrifying. These are words that have been attributed to Murasame's appearance for most of his life—and not without reason. Standing at 208 centimeters (6' 10") and weighing about as much as a fully stocked vending machine, Murasame has towered over every classmate he's ever had. The tenuously proud owner of a Heteromorphic Quirk, the youth's appearance is drastically different from those of his peers, ponderous physique aside. Endowed with the traits of a shark, his skin is steely grey, and nearly as resilient as its coloration would imply, his powerful neck plays host to a series of six fully functional gills, and perhaps most noticeably, his head is more analogous to that of his seaborne progenitor than that of a human. With the cold, indifferent eyes of a predator and a mouth full of hundreds of serrated, flesh shearing teeth, even the most innocent of grins has a tendency of sending people into a panic. Perhaps as is expected of someone with such an unconventional appearance, Murasame's choice of clothing tends to favor durability and longevity over comfort; breathable cotton t-shirts, tank tops, and denim jeans make up the majority of his typical out-of-school wardrobe. The difficulty of having clothing tailored to his body significantly limits how fashionable he is capable of being, but he does have a few nicer pieces of clothing in his repertoire when he wishes to add some flair, the crown jewel of which being a particularly massive leather jacket his mother bought him for graduation. If only people were capable of telling him it made him look even more thuggish than normal. Personal History The middle child of an upper-middle class Osakan family, Murasame's life would have been lofty and pleasant. Would have been, had he not had the misfortune of descending from an aquatic Pro-Hero and his nemesis-turned-wife, the co-mingling of which led to an expansive clan of equally nautical descendants, of which he was among the most pronounced. There was no doubt that he'd inherited his grandparent's genes from the onset. Even from his earliest years, he looked more like a sea monster than he did a toddler, and when he started to grow, he shot up like a rocket. By the time he had entered elementary school, he was nearly as tall as his kindergarten teacher, and by the time he finished elementary school, he could have easily been confused for as a teacher. If not for the fact he looked more like the bad guy in an episode of Super Sentai than an educator. It goes without saying, therefore, that his early years were less than pleasant. He was ostracized by many of his peers, cast out by his appearance and forced to live on the margins of the school yard as a 'freak' and a 'monster'. No amount of societal tolerance would make children more liable to accept someone so vastly different from the norm, after all, and the Japanese school system wasn't exactly renown for its interventions against bullying. He wasn't entirely without allies, though. His family were much more accommodating to him, his mother a doting homemaker and his numerous aunties and uncles there to provide an encouraging word or some small comfort when he'd return home in tears after being rebuffed by his fellows. None did quite as much for him as his sister, though—his older sister Samehana, though only four years his elder, served as his constant guardian. Whenever the teasing would get a little bit too severe, or the school yard bullies would decide to push their luck, she was there to put them on their rears and feed them gravel. He looked up to her (metaphorically, of course), as someone who wasn't afraid to stand up for herself and others, and always run into the fray on his behalf, no matter the situation. Perhaps acting as his bulwark had inspired her as well, as she embarked for Ishin Academy after middle school in Osaka, vowing to become a Pro as their grandfather before them had been. This left Murasame to his own devices for middle school, having to fend off any would-be bullies by himself, although at that point he had grown so large as to dissuade all but the most foolhardy of delinquents and gossipy hens from earning his ire. But Samehana's absence had reminded him just how sorely he missed her advocacy, and that reminder served as an inspiration in its own right; if his own personal hero could go Pro, then maybe he too could do it. Maybe if he made the cut, people would stop looking at him like some kind of villain just because of the Quirk he was born with, and see him for the person he really was. He studied hard throughout his few middle school years, and when the time came, applied for Ishin as well, hoping to live up to his family's name as much as his own ideal of what heroism was meant to be. Character Arc - Work Hard - Make Friends - Dynamics with her father's backstory - Personality Growth Quirk Description Known by the name of Megalodon, Murasame's Quirk is a Heteromorphic type that has given him the body of a man-shark hybrid. Beyond just giving him significant advantages underwater (the ability to breathe not least among them), it has also imbued him with incredibly physical capabilities. His strength can only be considered superhuman, even for someone with such a massive physique, and his inhuman traits have made him supernaturally durable, as his thick skin, dense musculature and flexible skeleton make him significantly harder to damage than a normal human. These traits, while quite formidable on their own, are further enhanced when the young man's gills are exposed to water. The more water that filters through them, the more physically powerful he becomes, growing not only in strength and durability, but also in size. With sufficient exposure, he is capable of assuming truly massive sizes befitting the name of his Quirk. However, this aspect of his Quirk is not without its flaw. Aside from the obvious complications of further increasing his size and strength, the longer he is exposed to water, the more bestial he becomes. Higher thought and logical thinking become more and more difficult as his abilities continue to grow, and reaching truly herculean levels of stature would almost assuredly render him fish-brained and driven entirely by instinct. On a personal level, Murasame greatly dislikes this aspect of his Quirk, fearing the loss of control it causes. He has developed an aversion to allowing even the most minute amounts of water to touch his gills, and will go as far as taping them over during showers to prevent any accidental exposure (or resulting property damage).

🚬

KEMURIKAGE AKEMI
煙影 明美

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx // INFO D A T A Full Name - Kemurikage Akemi Hometown - Fukuoka, Fukuoka Prefecture, Japan Quirk Type - Emitter Gender - Female - // PERSONALITY P E R S O N A L I T Y Defiant 🚬🚬🚬 Disinterested 🚬🚬🚬 Insolent 🚬🚬🚬

Physical Description Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Personal History 🚬 Character Arc - Work Hard - Make Friends - Dynamics with her father's backstory - Personality Growth Quirk Description Known by the name of Vaporwave

Pokémon Showdown! [Invite Only]

Sirius Leverant

_{Interacting with: A Loser — Location: School Hallways}

---

Another day. Another disappointment.

Perhaps it was unfair for Sirius to have already condemned his teammates to be. He had yet to meet with them in an official capacity. Yet to see their Pokemon in action. Perhaps this year would not end like the others, with the school, his school suffering another indignity in the regional tournament. No, it wasn't a maybe. It was a certainty. He was part of the team now, and the teen absolutely refused to allow a team he was part of be defeated. If he had to win every single match himself, he would do so. To face the shame of defeat was not an acceptable outcome, not after he had to endure the humiliation of being sent to some lesser academy in some backwater far from home. Triumph was the only option going forward, and he had made sure to beat that point in as he drilled his team earlier that morning.

Now was the time to show the results of all that drilling. If the team's leadership had any sense, they would host mock battles from the onset. He could show his teammates just how excellent his Pokemon were trained, and demonstrate first hand what he expected of all of them. Undoubtedly, they wouldn't be able to match up to him. But that suited him just fine. He was used to being the very best, the top of the food chain. They would simply have to fall in line behind him as he led them to a glorious, and long overdue——

A sudden impact shook Sirius from his reverie. So caught up in his own internal monologue—his obsessive ruminating over the team's first meeting of the year—he had lost all situational awareness. Stalking the halls in a huff, his path to the auditorium had intersected with another's, and he had run shoulder first into them. Tall and sturdy as he was, the collision had done little more than forced him out of his thoughts and into the present. As for the other person, well, their condition remained to be seen.

Not that he cared.

"Watch where you're going, idiot. People of actual consequence are trying to go places that matter."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
i don't fucking know pm

---

The town of Utsubyo certainly seemed hellbent on keeping Ryusei's doldrums going. It had been overcast all week, and while he could appreciate the silence of a cloudy, windy day, having the sky piss on you while you biked to school was a sure as shit way to have any inkling of joy snuffed right out. It must have put him in a real bad mood, because nobody seemed willing to meet his gaze that day. Not that he especially minded, of course. He didn't want to deal with the bullshit that came with being the new kid in a town where everybody had known each other since kindergarten. Being a novelty got old real quick, and the sooner they learned not to fuck with him, the better. He had hope they'd direct their curiosities towards Shimizu, bright and bubbly as she was, but as the day dragged on and classes passed, he couldn't shake the feeling that all eyes were on him.

Which meant the whispers were also probably about him. He wasn't a stranger to being the topic of gossip having been on the receiving end of it since elementary school. More often than not it was undeserved, the way kids liked to craft stories about the class delinquent. Of course, some of the time, he definitely painted the target on his back himself. He was the talk of the town when he had gotten into it with the baseball club freshman year. He busted up two of their starting players and nearly caused the coach to have a stroke.

It was in those precious moments of reminiscence that it occurred to him—he had done something since yesterday to draw attention to himself. But surely nobody had been watching the parking lot during lunch. There was the chance the little fucker had cried to the teachers, but if he was the class druggie, why would he want to bring that kind of attention to himself over a busted nose? Unless...

It was just as the cogs turned in his head and he remembered his dumpster-bound stalker that someone called out for him. Shaken from his daydreams, the teen found himself peering up at their homeroom teacher, and not so far off, Shiori. Neither of them seemed especially pleased, and if the rumor mill had been grinding yesterday's events all day, it was easy enough to see why. The redhead had probably been deemed guilty by association.

"Lemme guess," He began, rising from his desk into his trademark slouch, "It's time for my welcoming party? How thoughtful."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

June 28, 1998
I don't fucking know am

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"Hey, you don't know that. Maybe my dad's a big shot university president, and I'm just here roughing it with the poors for a few years before heading back to Tokyo. You better start sucking up if you wanna get in." Ryusei was quick to retort. It was only half a joke—he was pretty sure uncle Ryuta did serve on Kyoto University's board, but university was never something he put much thought into, and frankly, his family had already been occupying far too much of his headspace that day for him to want to think about them any further. Besides, he had bigger fish to fry in the moment; the last thing he needed was some overzealous news club freshman trying to impress their senpais by trailing him like an old timey PI. With his hands still tucked in his pockets, he trailed after Shiori as she made her way back towards the school.

It wasn't until they passed the dumpsters that he momentarily stopped. Tilting his head back to where he had last seen the alleged journalist-to-be, he gave his best attempt at a stony, stoic face. Which, in his experience, was pretty darn good, considering the usual reaction he got.

"Whatever the fuck you think you're doing: don't. This ain't a request."

Content that his little warning would spook the poor kid enough to keep her from following him around further, he continued after Shiori, his long strides making it easy enough to catch up to the redhead as she disappeared into the school.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

June 28, 1998
I don't fucking know am

---

So he had a twin, did he? Not that Ryusei was especially intimidated by the prospect of a second skater assailing his ankle with the tip of a board. Much less so if that second was a girl of all things. The fact this town was a dead end wasn't exactly surprising—he had tried looking into things to do in the days leading up to his arrival. A poor way of coping with his upcoming exile, one which led him only to tourist trap bullshit and the inevitable conclusion that the aging streets of Utsubyo had little to offer him. That was the point, of course. He couldn't exactly get up to no good if there was nowhere to go. Of course, considering he had just brained another student within hours of arriving at school, perhaps his parents had been wrong in their assessment. That thought almost brought a smile to the teen's lips. Almost.

"Yeah, you seem like a real overachiever," He eventually piped up following Shiori's little scoff, the start of a grin cracking its way across his face, "Smoking with the new delinquent out by the sports shed is a sure way into Tokyo U."

He pushed himself off the tree with that little jab, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. The sky was starting to look a little more angry than it had when he first stepped out into the open air, and he figured it would begin the promised downpour soon enough. No reason to get soaked for nothing, especially when it seemed his companion would be finishing up her cigarette soon enough anyway.

"You wanna head back together? I'm not trying to play chicken with a thunderstorm, and I think our little voyeur is getting impatient." The teen gestured vaguely towards the nearby dumpsters with his head as he spoke the last bit.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

June 28, 1998
I don't fucking know am

---

"The scenery, of course."

The sarcasm in Ryusei's voice was almost as thick as the cloud cover above, which he vaguely gestured to with his free hand. What else was he to say? That his parents didn't want him stinking up the house any more? That he had busted too many noses back in Kobe for the school to keep looking the other way? It wasn't exactly the kind of thing you opened up about to someone you'd just learned the name of five seconds prior. He could have lied, sure, but he wasn't in the mood to conjure up some fictional tale for Shiori's sake. Luckily enough, there was something else for him to focus the conversation towards. It would be nice to talk about someone else's criminal exploits for once.

"So I ended up braining the school dealer on the first day, huh? Luckily, I don't partake. My body's a temple, after all." He took one last, long drag of his cigarette, the ember burning its way down the last few centimeters of its length until there was little left but a butt. He promptly tossed it to the ground, grinding it into the pavement below with the toe of his shoe. The last traces of it disappeared as he blew out the smoke in a long stream, one which promptly disappeared in the wind.

It was only then that it occurred to him then that their lunch break hadn't quite come to a close yet, and as much as he didn't care for small talk, the girl before him made for better company than the ones in the classroom, if only due to volume. His hands idly found their way into his pockets, and he looked up at the sky through disparate branches as he searched for his words. It was usually polite to ask a question in return, wasn't it?

"How about you? You a native to this shit hole? Seems like me and the perky one were the only new faces this year."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

June 28, 1998
I don't fucking know am

---

New to the campus as he was, Ryusei contented himself to follow behind the redhead, cigarette balanced precariously between his lips as he did. He hadn't the foggiest clue where she intended to take them, but he made a mental note to memorize the route regardless; it helped him familiarize himself with the school, and he could always steal whatever hideaway she decided to bring them to if she proved to be less than enjoyable company in the future. As they rounded a corner and made towards what looked like an old equipment shed, he couldn't help but quirk a brow. Maybe she intended to prove herself to be quite enjoyable company. Unfortunately for him, rather than enter into the decrepit looking structure, she brought their journey to an end near the trees just outside it. His luck had never been that good, he supposed.

Leaning up against one of the trees, the teen sighed, half in relief to have a quiet place to smoke again, and half because of his companion's question. He took another long drag of his cigarette, thinking on how to answer her question. Of course, rather than ponder his relationship with skateboards and their riders, his thoughts found their way drifting back to Kobe. To the real reason for his less than friendly response to their interloper.

"Neither. I hate this place. Hate having to be here. He just happened to piss me off at the wrong time." He finally decided, in a shocking display of self-reflection. Maybe it was unfair to say he hated Utsubyo—he had only been there for a week, and while he had quarreled with his grandpa for much of that week, he had fond memories of it as child. But something had to take the brunt of his anger and hurt, and a town was as good a target as some skater punk's forehead.

"'Sides," He began, letting another puff that he had drawn absentmindedly drift from his mouth, "Guy looked like he deserved it anyway. He probably did something to earn it. Karma, y'know."