Full Name - Kemurikage Akemi Hometown - Fukuoka, Fukuoka Prefecture, Japan Quirk Type - Emitter Gender - Female -
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Defiant 🚬🚬🚬
Disinterested 🚬🚬🚬
Insolent 🚬🚬🚬
Physical Description
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Personal History
🚬
Character Arc
- Work Hard - Make Friends - Dynamics with her father's backstory - Personality Growth
Quirk Description
Known by the name of Vaporwave, Akemi's Quirk is an Operative type that allows her to generate vast quantities of smoke from her body. While she typically prefers to do so through her mouth, she is capable of discharging it through any part of her body, up to and including the pores of her skin. Unlike other Quirks of its type, Vaporwave is capable of not only producing, but also controlling smoke, whether produced by Akemi herself or by another non-related source. Her degree of control is quite precise, and when under her influence, she is capable of great feats of complexity, causing otherwise shapeless clouds to form intricate patterns and undergo movements otherwise impossible without the strange, external source acting upon them.
Though not especially well developed, Akemi also has the ability to alter the properties of the smoke she controls. Though more mundane demonstrations might see the chemical makeup of the clouds change to become more or less caustic, she has also proven capable of imparting smoke with unnatural levels of density, allow it to become "solid" in ways that should not be possible. Arguably one of the strongest aspects of her Quirk, it is still relatively underdeveloped. At its current capacity, she can comfortably manage to solidify a person sized cloud enough to support the weight of an adult—anything greater would likely cause her to strain.
While activation of the Quirk is entirely mental, she often resorts to making hand motions and other physical showings during usage, in part because they help her visualize the actions she means to take, and in part because it gives others the idea that she requires them. While the detrimental effects of smoke on one's health are particularly well documented, Akemi's body seems immunized to them, having naturally adapted to the toxic fumes she creates.
Location — Outside Ishin Academy Interacting — With the air quality
Inhale. Draw it deep. Hold it. Feel the warmth. Enjoy the rush. Relax. Exhale. Watch the stream billow away. Make it dance a little. Repeat.
How long it had been since she'd gotten to Ishin, Akemi could not say. She had spent most of the morning wandering Sapporo, not because she was lost, or out of any real sense of wonder, but because she could. If there was anything to savor about coming to Ishin, aside from the rush of a Walboro, it was the freedom of being so far from home. If only for a day, for one morning, she got to drift aimlessly, carried here and there like so much smoke on the wind. There was a sadness to that smallest glimmer of joy. She had come to one of the strictest, stick-in-ass schools in the entire country to find autonomy. It was like a really bad joke, a monkey's paw curling to the sick delight of some higher power.
It was also ruining her buzz. Inhale. Draw it deep. Hold it. At one point, her directionless wandering had eventually turned into something productive. She had spotted a handful of students in uniforms just like her own, and it shook her from her pleasant reverie. Her footfalls fell in their example, and she eventually found her way to the academy itself. People had still been filtering in when she arrived, and so she figured she had time for a quick smoke. She had smuggled them out of the house, onto the train, and across all of Honshu. It would've been a shame to see them wasted to some stuffy spinster's dorm inspection. A nice little alcove in the school's external wall served as a perfect place to tuck away from prying eyes, and there one smoke had turned to two, then three. The embers of her third had nearly burnt out, with only a few centimeters of precious tobacco to go.
She couldn't fix a lot about her life, but that much could be fixed. Leaving the burning stick dangling from her lips, she pulled the crumpled up pack from her school bag, thumbing the flap open. A single cylinder greeted her. The final one for a while, until she could find a new hook up and a good place to hide them. She might've questioned what the point even was, so far from home, but introspection led to way too many questions. Better to just focus on feeling the now, rather than think about the future or the past. The filter of her last, virgin cigarette found its way between her lips, trading places with the nearly dead one. She touched their tips, sucking in to chain them off each other. As soon as the ember took and she got a good drag off it, the previous had done its duty. She ground the end into the bottom of her shoe, and flicked the butt into the wispy white cloud of smoke stuck hovering beside her, a temporary ashtray for a temporary release.
There probably wasn't much more time. She had to enjoy what little she had left.
Inhale. Draw it deep. Hold it. Feel the warmth. Enjoy the rush. Relax. Exhale. Watch the stream billow away. Make it dance a little. Repeat.
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
Had he the capacity to wince, Murasame just might've when Saika inquired as to his family. Not their mention, of course. He loved them all dearly, and they him in return. But he had always felt like the black sheep of their little clan, always so different from his parents and siblings. So much... bigger, and meaner looking. It only took being confused for an estranged father of two once or twice before that really sunk in. But, his classmate had no means of knowing that, so he couldn't hold it against her. Instead, he just cobbled together another sheepish reply.
"Uh, yeah, I mean, sis is pretty tall, for a girl an' all, and ma always said our smiles were our best features, so..."
The carefully rehearsed, artificially cheerful interjection of the WcDenji's cashier saved him from any further awkwardness, as it had saved him from so many gloomy days in years past. With his significantly larger bag in hand, the teen hurried after Saika, at least a little uncomfortable with eating on the go. Was that really okay? Wouldn't they get looks? If they didn't litter, it probably wasn't violating any laws, but what would people think?
ぐうぐうぐうぐう
They would think a bear had somehow managed to infiltrate downtown Sapporo if he didn't dig in, he eventually decided, and so hunger won out over neuroticism. He carefully balanced the act of prying the thin, papery film from a cup of Wac sauce while trundling behind his companion, listening to her all the while.
"I sure hope not," Murasame managed between mauling potato wedge after potato wedge between rows of serrated teeth, each dipped delicately into the mysterious dressing cradled in his palm, "I ain't too good with fights. I uh, used to get picked on a lot when I was lil'. Guess I made for a real big target, and I didn't have too many friends to stick up for me. Didn't really stop until second year of middle school."
He smothered the painful memories like so many WcWedges, tossing several of the salty, sauce covered treats down his gullet to distract himself of unhappy times. Though, as he swallowed, his eyes went wide.
"N-Not 'cause I, like, snapped and beat 'em all up or anythin' like that. 'S just, my sister, she got wind of what was goin' on and uh... She came 'round to see who all was messin' with me. Ended up throwin' 'em around so hard, one of 'em ended up on the roof of they school. They mostly steered clear after that."
Perhaps realizing how embarrassing it was to explain to someone you'd just met how your big sister had to take care of your school yard bullies, he racked his brain for a different subject, any subject. Only one really came to mind.
"How 'bout you? Got many friends? I mean, I guess you woulda had to leave 'em behind, comin' all this way... But what about makin' new ones? Can't be that everyone'll be buttin' heads all the time."
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
There he stood. The proving ground. The line inside WcDenji's. There were many proving grounds to come, and each with their own distinct challenges, but this one? He had conquered this one before. He knew what he wanted, knew what alterations to make. He rehearsed them in his mind, one after the other, carefully preparing himself. Saika had even gone so far as to put in her order first, giving him ample time to prepare himself. All he had to do was march right up to the cashier, tell her what he wanted for breakfast, and then wait for his order.
But few things could have prepared him for what occurred next. It was still early, but his companion hadn't ordered breakfast. He knew the WcDenji's breakfast well. Enjoyed it quite a bit, even. The eggs were always well-cooked, the hash browns tasty, and their apple pies were wonderful. Even their hotcakes, drenched in the tiny little cups of syrup he so valiantly struggled against, counted themselves amongst his favorite fast food items. But he couldn't just order breakfast. Saika had decided to have an early lunch, clearly, and he would look a fool if he were to undermine her decision like that. Worse yet, she had finished her order, leaving him to step up and take command of the situation.
It was a difficult decision. But, if he was to become a Pro-Hero, he would have to make many difficult decisions in the years to follow. A Hero had to be decisive, unflinching in the face of adversity, and prepared for any eventuality. As he loomed heavy before the counter, there was a resolve behind his eyes. He knew what to do.
"Hi. I'll uh, I'll have two WcMuffins, a WcSizzle large, some WcWedges, with extra Wac sauce if ya can. A BigWac, two Quarter Drowners, one with cheese, and uh... Y'know, what the heck? Throw a WcNib in there," It was bold enough to order a hybrid of both the breakfast and lunch menus, but to add in a limited menu option like the WcNib? What a rush.
"Oh! And a diet Mr Peter, please an' thank ya. Tryna watch my sugar."
While the poor worker clicked away at his order, he stood off to the side with Saika, feeling positively radiant with his snap decision making. Bringing up his relatives once again caused his hand to go to his head, rubbing bashfully at the back of it.
"I dunno. I've never really been this far away from home before, so I'm already kinda missin' my folks," He admitted, as sheepish as someone of his stature could, "My gramps went by Mariner when he was still bustin' heads in the street, but he's mostly in the management game now. Ya probably wouldn't have heard of my sis, on account of her just startin', but she goes by Frenzy. Y'know, like... Like feedin' frenzy?"
He hadn't much liked the name when she told him, but he didn't dare mention that. After all, he couldn't deny the symbolism it evoked was... accurate, to say the least.
"How 'bout you? Your folks in the business? Or are you a first generation?"
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
Murasame's eyes flickered with recognition at Saika's explanation. What a relief. He had almost been right, of course, but rather than a sign of overexertion, it was just an unfortunate side effect of her power. He almost felt bad for making a little scene about it. He was no stranger to how a Quirk could inconvenience one's daily life, after all. Having undue attention drawn to it, being made to feel like a freak for it, those feelings had haunted him for as long as he could remember. Luckily, it seemed his classmate was much less bothered by her peculiarities than he was by his own. Enough that she had already gotten moving by the time he had fully come to terms with it all.
"I, uh, are you sure about that? We don't wanna be—" He eyes nearly bulged as he watched her set the blood so gingerly offered alight right between her palms, his gaze darting back to the grass where the previous wad had landed once or twice just to make sure it hadn't started to smolder, "—late, right? That'd be pretty bad, with it bein' the first day and all."
Paragon of timeliness that he was, the teen wasn't so sure he could convince his companion to stay the more responsible course, not least because she had already taken to the crosswalk to reach the fabled WcDenji's. He stood at the crossroads, both literally and metaphorically, as he contemplated his options. To either ford ahead on the just path, and find the school without his guide, or to cave in to temptation, and allow himself to be swayed by the promise of an early morning WcSizzle.
ぐうぐうぐうぐう
While his resolve had been strong, his body, unfortunately, had been weak. His words of wisdom, advising them to remain on track, were underpinned by a thunderous rumbling from his belly. He stood, hand outreached for a few humbling seconds, his mouth agape, before his shoulders deflated entirely, his arms hanging sadly at his side.
"Yeah, y'know, sure, I guess. I could go for some hashbrowns..."
He hurried across before the light could turn green, although with no less defeat in his stride than had been in his voice.
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
While she certainly seemed a little too casual for comfort, the girl—Saika, as she had introduced herself—couldn't have been too bad a person, seeing as though she had allowed him to accompany her to the school. She proved to be rather personable to boot, but he wasn't sure whether or not that was to his benefit, given his own difficulty with conversation. He owed her a solid attempt, though, and so he nodded along as she explained her origin.
"Yeah, I can see how it'd be a bit of an adjustment. I guess it don't bother me so much, seein' as though Osaka is pretty big. Not Tokyo big, but, y'know," He sure as sugar didn't, seeing as though the closest he had ever been to the capital was on the train up to Sapporo, but it seemed a popular enough sentiment. He words in regard to their directions weren't exactly comforting, nor was the implication that he'd intimidate the faculty. He didn't want a repeat of Miss Nakamura on his hands; having to explain to the principal that you weren't attempting to threaten your math teacher into giving you a passing mark was an experience best left firmly to the past. He had just wanted to know why the equation had marked been wrong...
His guilt over terrorized educators quickly found itself replaced by his guilt over their sudden shift in pace. His companion must have realized he had been measuring his steps so as to not eclipse her, and forced herself to try and meet his unusually long strides. Luckily, the conversation carried on before he could fret too long over it.
"Yeah, it's a bit far. But my grandpa went here when he was younger, and my sister graduated last year, so I guess Ishin is somethin' of a family thing. Didn't even think to apply to..." Murasame paused as he watched what looked to be a mouthful of blood careen from Saika's mouth and land somewhere off in the grass. His eyes immediately widened.
"Oh, jeez! Are you alright? Do we need to, uh, slow down? You really don't need to push it." The fretting returned with a vengeance—how could he have been so insensitive? He didn't know who this girl was, or what kind of Quirk she had. Maybe it was one of those Quirks he had seen on 60 Seconds, where the user's body degraded from overexertion. Pushing herself to keep up with his freakish pace must've put too much strain on her physique. There was no point in getting to school on time if he killed one of his classmates in the rush!
So is there any interest in the Avengers? Mowing over a potential Thorsdottir who just inherited the mantle after her dad ascended the Asgardian throne, and has to take over as the new protector of Midgard.
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
While it wasn't the worst reaction somebody had ever blurted out when he approached them, the girl's shock at his scale certainly didn't help Murasame's nerves any. But she hadn't screamed, or called for help, or offered all the yen in her wallet in return for being left alone! So, in that regard, it was his victory. An elephantine hand found its way behind his head as she sputtered through her initial thoughts and found her bearings, and the smile he offered would be considered apologetic on anybody else, but truthfully ended up the same way all his smiles did—full of far too many teeth, and with too little context.
"It's alright, I uh... I get that a lot," He explained, although when she offered to accompany him along the way, he could only nod vigorously in gratitude, "Y-Yeah! It's fine with me if it's fine with you. I'll be in your care."
Lumbering along the crosswalk after her, it took effort to withhold his sigh of relief. Not only had he managed to luck into another student, but she seemed more than willing to help him remedy his blunder. Maybe he'd actually manage to make the opening ceremony on time, if he was working on someone else's schedule. Regardless of his stroke of good fortune, however, he wasn't entirely out of the metaphorical woods. He still had to try and make small talk with the girl. Which... generally began with introductions. Which she had already asked for, moments earlier.
"Uh, right, name. I've got one of those. Mizushima Murasame. Just got in from Osaka this mornin'. I'm gonna be startin' my freshman year at Ishin today. Which, you uh, already know," Although he was sure he couldn't possibly have looked any more uncomfortable, the need to silently scold himself stayed strong. How the hell did people manage to converse with total strangers?!
Location — Somewhere in Sapporo Interacting — @Mcmolly
The train ride had been hellish. Ten hours, cooped up in a little metal box, surrounded by people he didn't know, all by his lonesome. The poor salary man he had shared a pair of seats with for the journey looked nearly as terrified as Murasame had felt during the ordeal, and it was a small blessing that half way through the journey that the fellow got off at one of their many stops, leaving him to his own own devices, to fret and panic while the metaphorical prison which held him barreled through Honshu and onward to Hokkaido. His destination had been nearly as imposing as the trip itself; Ishin Academy, where his grandfather had cut his teeth in the industry of old, and where his elder sister, Samehana, had graduated not months prior. He wished, even as he hunched down to step out of the carriage and onto the platform, that she still attended the prestigious academy. If nothing else, she could have soothed the tempest of insecurities swirling about his mind in the lead up to his enrollment. Or, at least, beat the worries out of him. More than likely beat them out of him.
In hindsight, it was probably for the best that Samehana hadn't come with him.
He was a big boy, both literally and figuratively. He didn't need his big sister to hold his hand on the way to school any more. That resolve kept him moving even when he seemed to like to be caught up among the waves of commuters, although given his size, he had more than enough of a berth in even the heaviest of rush hours. The first order of business was to change—stylish as it was, he didn't think his favorite leather jacket and new blue jeans would please the dean of such a strict school. A lavatory, and some finessing to squeeze into the stall would allow him to change into the carefully tailored uniform in his backpack. Only then would he be presentable enough to march on Ishin as generations of Mizushima had before him.
Of course, such a march gave him ample time to get lost in his thoughts. Something that became obvious to the neurotic giant after he excused himself from the restroom and navigated out into the streets of Sapporo. It felt so... incredibly foreign to him. He had lived in Osaka for all his life, and had never been more than a few hours away from home, and all its comforts. Sapporo might have been dwarfed in scale by the packed streets of Osaka, but devoid of the familiarity of his home turf, the hulking teen couldn't help but feel like the small one as he meandered his way down avenues that he had committed to memory with the express purpose of arriving at the campus on time.
But it didn't take all that long to realize that, after a couple of discrepancies between map and mind and street below, that Murasame had become lost in more than just his thoughts. That's when the panic really set in. If his anxiety had been simmering beneath the surface since his mother kissed him goodbye and his father waved him off at the station, it boiled fully over when he realized he had managed to veer off course and into the wild unknown. What the hell was he gonna do?! He hadn't thought to actually bring the map of the city with him! Space was at a premium with his uniform taking up so much space, and it was only supposed to be so many blocks from the station exit! It was entirely possible that he had gone in the wrong direction, and simply retracing his steps back to the station might've helped his memory, but that would take time! There wasn't much time before the opening ceremony, and he couldn't afford to be late—he already stuck out like a sore thumb! Being tardy to such a prestigious event wouldn't just paint him him as monster, but a delinquent too!
He was practically hyperventilating by the time he found some small amount of respite. Across the way, in the corner of his vision, he caught sight of his salvation. Another student, with a matching uniform! That meant she was bound for Ishin too, so all he had to do was follow her and they'd inevitably end up at the school. But he couldn't just do that, right? That would be stalking, and he didn't want to ruin someone's day by making them think some fish-eyed freak was prowling after them on the street. He had to meet them head on, and introduce himself! Then, he could explain the whole thing and they could walk to school together. It was foolproof.
Waiting for the light to turn, the bulky teen hurried his way through a crosswalk to the other side of the street, where he planned his approach. Just walk up, say hello, introduce himself, explain the situation. Just walk up, say hello, introduce himself, and explain the situation. He took a deep, steadying breath as he lumbered towards his fellow student (which sounded more like a snarl, given his unique dental situation), and tapped her on the shoulder with all the care he could manage.
"You, uh, you're a student, right? At, at Ishin—the hero school, you go there, right?" He rumbled, his fingers curling into a fist in frustration. They were just words! If he could order his own Big Wacs now, then he could ask for directions!
"I uh, I could use some directions. To the school. I gotta get there for the opening ceremony today and I'm... I'm lost, is all. I'm not from around here, so..."
Full Name - Mizushima Murasame Hometown - Osaka, Osaka Prefecture, Japan Quirk Type - Mutation Gender - Male -
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 incredible 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).
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