Asura

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
half past morbin' time

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The last chime of the day was usually a welcome sound. It meant that classes were finally over and everybody could scurry off to their club activities, or—for the hoodlums like Ryusei—go wander the town until nightfall. It was unfortunate that the towering teen would have to fall into the former category this year. As he stewed for most of the day, he found himself growing increasingly irate with the idea. It had been so absurd as to almost be funny at the time, but having to deal with a group of people he didn't know, nor want to know, every day after school, for who knew how many hours... Somehow Utsubyo managed to keep getting worse with every passing day. At least he had roped Himawari into it; if nothing else, she proved to be fun to tease, and he could take some solace in knowing he wasn't the only one who definitely did not want to be there.

Somewhere along the path between 2-C and the gymnasium, he met up with her. She seemed in a mood, and frankly, so was he, so he simply contented himself to silence until they arrived. Mercifully, the journey was not long, and their destination was everything the transfer could have imagined it to be—beat to shit and full of equipment that probably hadn't been replaced in the last decade. There weren't many folks milling about either, although he took that as more of a boon than a bane. It meant he had fewer people to talk to and consequently, fewer people to bother him. He simply grunted when their history teacher approached him and gave the typical spiel. Bastard was probably just happy to have another member to pad out his club with. Maybe they'd get more funding that way.

Of course, it couldn't just be the sensei to crowd him. The senpai of the group didn't seem especially notable, although his calm demeanor certainly stood out compared to his juniors. One of them decided to mouth off about his height, as if he didn't fucking know he was a foot taller than half the damn school, and the other one looked at him with a mixture of terror and apparent embarrassment at her own fear.

"Totsuka Ryusei," He eventually grunted, although his eyes eventually fell on Kei, "And I'm already in shape, in case you were blind."

It took a fair amount of restraint to not add 'as well as dumb' to his little quip, but that was probably for the best. The teacher was still around, as evidence by his request that Ryusei go change. Grumbling to himself, the teen took the excuse to get the hell away from his fellow club members before they did anything else to piss him off, and disappeared into the nearby locker room. He did not return until he had shed the stuffy school uniform provided to him and replaced it with the equally irritating gym clothing they had given him.

"Alright, I'm ready. What the hell are we doing? I don't wanna be here all day."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

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

---

"Does it matter that much? They still chose to plaster us all over the front page—all of them are guilty on some level."

Maybe it was a little overzealous to condemn the entire club for the actions of a single member. But they all sat idly by and let it happen. Hell, the majority of them probably relished in it—they were all wannabe journalists, living in some backwater podunk town nobody cared about. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen in recent memory, maybe the only exciting thing to happen in recent memory. Like vultures to a fresh kill, they couldn't help themselves. The more he thought about it, the less the idea of beating the entire clubroom senseless seemed out of line. There had to be consequences for this, or he would have to deal with them trailing him for the rest of the school year, hoping desperately for him to do something that would sell their stupid little rag.

"Whatever you decide to do, take me with you when you go. I wanna exchange some words with their editor." He eventually decided, tucking his hands into his pockets, "We still got like fifteen minutes. Wanna have a quick smoke? Could use one after all this bullshit."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

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

---

With how prone to mouthing off she seemed, Ryusei hadn't expected that his comments would get her so tied up in a knot. If they ended up hanging around each other regularly—a silly hypothetical, considering he had all but ensured that moments ago—he would make sure to exploit that going forward. She did make some good points though. Dragging her down with him was a bit of a bitch move to pull, but he didn't know who all were part of the team, so ensuring he had at least one friendly face among them would hopefully make the coming weeks more tolerable. Not that Shiori's face was looking especially friendly at the time.

"What do you mean? We're gonna be hanging out every day after school now. This is just a... non-conventional proposal, is all." He insisted, ever the smooth talker, "'Sides, I wouldn't mind you hopping in the ring—maybe you can throw the punches you learn there at the person who got us into this mess. The hell was her name? Short, black hair, annoying glasses. My 'stalker'. You said she was on the school newspaper, didn't you?"

It didn't hurt to make his intentions for her a little better known. Frankly, he expected her to go off and seek vengeance all her own, if her reputation was at all warranted. He was just pushing the inevitable conclusion forward a little bit.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

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

---

As the words left his mouth, he almost felt bad about it. Almost. But the way Shiori's head nearly flew off her shoulders in response to his 'helpful' suggestion nearly managed to bring a grin to his face. If she was that expressive, he'd make a note to continue taking jabs at her here and there whenever he could; Utsubyo was far too boring not to try and drum up some kind of amusement. As they were shooed off to complete the rest of their break, he had more than prepared himself for the outburst to come. She shook in her wrath, firing a glare at him like she could kill him right then and there with it—it was almost cute. Of course, the shrill yelling came shortly after that. Much less cute. But he had an easy response for all her rage.

"Hey, I saved you from spending the next week scrubbing desks and cleaning boards. You should be thankful," He told her, although it took a great deal of his self-restraint to keep his expression stoic in light of the absolute bullshit he was spewing. "Besides, if you weren't out there smoking, I wouldn't have been tempted to join you. It's honestly your fault for being such good company."

That was sure to rile her up good and proper. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could redirect some of that aggression towards the half-pint he had encountered behind the dumpsters. She was undoubtedly the one who snapped the pictures that had apparently incriminated them both. As much as he'd like to get back at her, punching out a girl on the second day of school wasn't a good look. But if another girl did it—and he was sure Shiori was the type to throw a punch—then it would be fine. Given his own propensity to vent frustration with his hands, he decided his provocations weren't just thinly veiled excuses to have a good laugh, but an attempt at justice.

"And I mean, the comment was justified. You don't strike me as the type to dye your hair. Unless, y'know, you shave, I guess..."

It never hurt to be thorough.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

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

---

"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."