fledermaus

ᴊᴜʙᴏᴋᴋᴏ - ᴀ ᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴏᴛᴏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ

heya everyone

so for the clan sheet, there is a bit called INTEGRATION, that is because this sheet was originally used for a Kirigakure roleplay. In kusa, it doesn't really make sense so you can delete it! :)

ᴊᴜʙᴏᴋᴋᴏ - ᴀ ᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴏᴛᴏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ

I noticed there is no space for E-rank jutsu. I assume we already know all of the these jutsu since we're genin?

@Kafka Komedy

yeah! i found it pointless to have you guys all list basic jutsu, seemed unnecessary

ᴊᴜʙᴏᴋᴋᴏ - ᴀ ᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴏᴛᴏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ

I'd like to run my clan concept by before I commit to writing everything down for it to make sure it's okay: The Surudo clan were nomad warriors from the land of steel who really didn't do ninjutsu and were caught in the cross-fire of the First Shinobi War. Soon after the war ended they became a clan in Kusagakure, but have become increasingly split down the middle in terms of supporting jitsu or hana. They'd mostly be bukijutsu (in particular use of senbon, wire strings and swords) practitioners and peacekeepers of some sort. Maybe internal police or auxiliary forces. Thoughts?

EDIT: Oh, and do you guys have that discord set up?

@Kafka Komedy

that idea sounds cool, go for it!

So for clans, there are noble clans and normal clans. Noble clans belong to the founders of Kusagakure while normal clans come about in normal ways lol. There are only 2 noble clans available to create. Your clan would fall under a normal one, since it is founded around the first shinobi war.

If you want to change that and make the founder be an orphan from the land of iron, you can totally be a noble clan if you want.

Also, our discord is set up, but we are going to wait to invite people until the final decision is made! feel free to chatter in the ooc though if you want to go over thoughts and stuff. ^-^

ᴊᴜʙᴏᴋᴋᴏ - ᴀ ᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴏᴛᴏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ

@13org @Kafka Komedy ofc, we wont be making any decisions until monday so everyone is free to send in an application ^-^

Knowing everything about Naruto isnt necessary, a lot of this takes place before naruto was even born and most of kusagakure is created by the GMs!

ᴊᴜʙᴏᴋᴋᴏ - ᴀ ᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴏᴛᴏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ

Interested.

I'm assuming we don't play canon clans.

@Anakin

Probably not, since none of the canon clans are from Kusagakure, but we welcome creativity in creating your own clans :)

SPIRITUM

Betelgeuse climbed out of the vehicle after everyone, her knees bright red from kneeling on the metal floor and her disposition even surlier than when she got in it. People call her chaotic, yet they haven’t seen the Barghest squad in full effect. If someone says her heart felt a little warmer, seeing them all gathered in front of the shitty motel, they’re a fucking liar. All she feels is emotional exhaustion.

Galahad mentions someone paying for gas, and Betelgeuse out right snorts, “No.” Betelgeuse was going to slide her way through their journey without paying a lick of coin. She had decided that, back at the Citadel, when she counted her money and realized she was only a small amount away from a black wyvern leather jacket.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m drunk, and I know that's not possible. I only had two drinks. Tell 'em Bete, you've seen me keep up with Ray before. I can hold my drink with the best of them, and that's a fact." Sam says.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, lightweight.” Betelgeuse shrugs, walking past where Sam is now cradled in Zac’s arms. Sam may be rowdy, but (and she will never admit this aloud) she finds his banter rather amusing. “Don’t vomit.”

Bete set her bag down and rummaged through it to find her own favorite brand of alcohol, Levishine. She popped open the top with her thumb and took a swig, wiping away the drips on the corners of her mouth. She watched as Zak dragged his deadweight cargo (Sam) over to the truck and smirked, almost outright chuckled, at the sight.

“Maybe we should put Sam with buzzkill Galahad,” she suggested with a rare twinkle in her eye.

SPIRITUM

Betelgeuse had wanted the front passenger seat; to be accurate, she had demanded the front passenger seat. However, it was insisted that she wasn’t ‘front passenger’ material as the front passenger is in charge of, but not limited to: the radio, directions, ensuring the driver is awake, and hollering towards the back of truck when fights occur. Betelgeuse resents this sentiment, she would be great at keeping Zac awake. As is, with the front passenger seat given to buzzkill Galahad, Betelgeuse had claimed the next best thing – the entirety of the military truck. With her knees pressed into the metal floor, she had full access to every window and free range to invade anyone’s space. All in all, it was a good set up. Still, she made sure to kick the back of Galahad’s seat now and then to remind him she was unhappy with his chosen seat.

Currently, Betelgeuse was resting her head on her crossed arms which were propped up on the middle of the dashboard. Her head was tucked under the map to give the other two full view of it. She likes watching the vehicle visually eat the road, reminding her of monsters inhaling everything in their way. It made her feel powerful and she suggested a few times they hit a pedestrian on their way out of the Citadel.

“Hey book for brains! What kinda Wyvern are they?” Asa shouted from the bed of the truck and Betelgeuse stirred from her relaxed state. Well, she more so startled than stirred.

With a racket of arms and legs adjusting and banging on the floor, Betelgeuse squeezed into the space between Galahad’s seat (her coveted throne) and Sabrina’s knees. She pressed her face against the window, straining to see the Wyverns. Betelgeuse loved wyverns, they reminded her of home. Every so often, in the forest while foraging, young Bete would come across the creatures – the encounters usually led to her fleeing, as wyverns were kind of dangerous, but she still enjoyed the memories.

Betelgeuse ignored the conversations happening around her, and didn’t even let out a huff or growl when Sabrina’s knees dug into her sides with each bump in the road. Eventually, the wyverns faded from view, and left Betelgeuse yearning for some entertainment.

Sam accidentally hurting himself was mildly amusing, but Betelgeuse wanted something more lasting as Sorin would fix him right up any second, anyways.

SPIRITUM

Betelgeuse Stern

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍
TWENTY | 5'6" | AB-

_{A P P E R A N C E}

Betelgeuse is not quite graceful, she is nothing close to exuding elegance and refinement, but she could be described as nimble. She moves fluidly, every muscle works with purpose and no energy is wasted. Often, she moves aggressively on spry feet, and she gives the impression that she can snap into action within a millisecond. Betelgeuse doesn’t walk, she stalks.

Despite her demeanor being aggressively self-assured, Betelgeuse is very petite and dainty in appearance. Her frame is small, a thin waist with narrow shoulders. Her big watery blue eyes draw attention to her noble cheekbones and pointed chin. She has decorated her body in tattoos of beasts from a young age; the most visible of which is a wyvern twisting on her shoulder. She has blue hair that rests beneath her chin and she often pulls it back in a half-ponytail.

When it comes to her wardrobe, Betelgeuse prefers light clothing. During her freetime, she’s in comfortable pants and thin tanktops. On the clock, however, she wears black cargo pants and plated tanktops underneath a long black sweater.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Brutish. That is the word others would use to describe Betelgeuse.

From her mannerisms to her personality, everything about Betelgeuse seems feral. She’s a quiet person, and her silence is heavy with unspoken judgment and muted snark. Rarely does she talk, finding it unnecessary to waste her words on communicating, and often falls back on disparaging looks and long-suffering sighs. When she does talk, she’s gruff and perpetually irritated. A loner and a misanthrope, she doesn’t want to associate with others very often and it is hard to impress her.

Betelgeuse’s movements are aggressive in nature – she’s the first one to get physical in a confrontation and is not above fighting dirty with her teeth. Often, her solution to things seems to be violence, and she craves the adrenaline from a good fight. The best way to get in her good graces is to give her a good brawl or through food. Once someone has won her affection, she’s loyal and protective, going to extreme lengths to protect her friends. She has a hard time sharing, too, and can be disgruntled if her friend has become close to someone else.

_{B A C K G R O U N D}

Betelgeuse was born on a settlement of workers who moved their families near the factory they worked in. The factory being a plant that transforms levistone into etherium. Since she was a baby, Betelgeuse witnessed the horrors of monsters that lurked around the nearby plant and lost many people to them. By the age of five, there was no one in the settlement that was her age. Most of the time, she had to entertain herself while both her parents worked. As nothing was near them, Betelgeuse was taught how to fish and hunt for food as well as gather herbs by a woman next door. She grew to appreciate nature, monsters and all.

Everyone in the settlement was surprised when Betelgeuse was enlisted into the WARDEN program. She was reluctant to go and only her parents praising her for being special convinced her to go away with the strange men. Her time in the program was spent mostly fighting or ignoring people. Since she had no friends when she was younger, she wasn’t used to being around kids her age and she found it annoying as well as energy-consuming. Betelgeuse threw herself head first into the program, it was cathartic to her agitated spirit and the adrenaline became her favorite drug.

Betelgeuse aimed for being a First Class WARDEN, but her temperamental personality and impulsivity landed her a position in Third Class.

_{C O M B A T}

Betelgeuse is a fiend in battle. Technically, she is supposed to be long-distance support, shooting Mist-enhanced arrows in the weak links of the enemy. However, she tends to rush into battle (to the irritation of her superiors). She’ll fight using her flexibility and Mist-enhanced fists. When she’s close to the enemy, she pulls her bow taut, and releases the arrow close range. It is an incredibly impractical way to fight – and it gets her adrenaline pumping like nothing else.

Her abilities with the Mist lies in enhancement. When she sees the Mist, a big sheer floating blue glob, she enwraps it around whatever she wants to enhance by shooting through it. With an arrow, she aims the arrow to fly through the Mist as manually wrapping it with her hands takes too long.

_{N O T E S}

Not applicable.

SPIRITUM

Betelgeuse Stern

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍
TWENTY | 5'6" | AB-

_{A P P E R A N C E}

Betelgeuse is not quite graceful, she is nothing close to exuding elegance and refinement, but she could be described as nimble. She moves fluidly, every muscle works with purpose and no energy is wasted. Often, she moves aggressively on spry feet, and she gives the impression that she can snap into action within a millisecond. Betelgeuse doesn’t walk, she stalks.

Despite her demeanor being aggressively self-assured, Betelgeuse is very petite and dainty in appearance. Her frame is small, a thin waist with narrow shoulders. Her big watery blue eyes draw attention to her noble cheekbones and pointed chin. She has decorated her body in tattoos of beasts from a young age; the most visible of which is a wyvern twisting on her shoulder. She has blue hair that rests beneath her chin and she often pulls it back in a half-ponytail.

When it comes to her wardrobe, Betelgeuse prefers light clothing. During her freetime, she’s in comfortable pants and thin tanktops. On the clock, however, she wears black cargo pants and plated tanktops underneath a long black sweater.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Brutish. That is the word others would use to describe Betelgeuse.

From her mannerisms to her personality, everything about Betelgeuse seems feral. She’s a quiet person, and her silence is heavy with unspoken judgment and muted snark. Rarely does she talk, finding it unnecessary to waste her words on communicating, and often falls back on disparaging looks and long-suffering sighs. When she does talk, she’s gruff and perpetually irritated. A loner and a misanthrope, she doesn’t want to associate with others very often and it is hard to impress her.

Betelgeuse’s movements are aggressive in nature – she’s the first one to get physical in a confrontation and is not above fighting dirty with her teeth. Often, her solution to things seems to be violence, and she craves the adrenaline from a good fight. The best way to get in her good graces is to give her a good brawl or through food. Once someone has won her affection, she’s loyal and protective, going to extreme lengths to protect her friends. She has a hard time sharing, too, and can be disgruntled if her friend has become close to someone else.

_{B A C K G R O U N D}

Betelgeuse was born on a settlement of workers who moved their families near the factory they worked in. The factory being a plant that transforms levistone into etherium. Since she was a baby, Betelgeuse witnessed the horrors of monsters that lurked around the nearby plant and lost many people to them. By the age of five, there was no one in the settlement that was her age. Most of the time, she had to entertain herself while both her parents worked. As nothing was near them, Betelgeuse was taught how to fish and hunt for food as well as gather herbs by a woman next door. She grew to appreciate nature, monsters and all.

Everyone in the settlement was surprised when Betelgeuse was enlisted into the WARDEN program. She was reluctant to go and only her parents praising her for being special convinced her to go away with the strange men. Her time in the program was spent mostly fighting or ignoring people. Since she had no friends when she was younger, she wasn’t used to being around kids her age and she found it annoying as well as energy-consuming. Betelgeuse threw herself head first into the program, it was cathartic to her agitated spirit and the adrenaline became her favorite drug.

Betelgeuse aimed for being a First Class WARDEN, but her temperamental personality and impulsivity landed her a position in Third Class.

_{C O M B A T}

Betelgeuse is a fiend in battle. Technically, she is supposed to be long-distance support, shooting Mist-enhanced arrows in the weak links of the enemy. However, she tends to rush into battle (to the irritation of her superiors). She’ll fight using her flexibility and Mist-enhanced fists. When she’s close to the enemy, she pulls her bow taut, and releases the arrow close range. It is an incredibly impractical way to fight – and it gets her adrenaline pumping like nothing else.

Her abilities with the Mist lies in enhancement. When she sees the Mist, a big sheer floating blue glob, she enwraps it around whatever she wants to enhance by shooting through it. With an arrow, she aims the arrow to fly through the Mist as manually wrapping it with her hands takes too long.

_{N O T E S}

Not applicable.

[c a n c e l e d]

Isaiah woke to the news of Ms.Fortune. Unlike others, the one who told him wasn’t a student - it was his grandfather’s assistant who called him, scorn wrapped around his faux politeness. Isaiah spent the next thirty minutes listening intently to the assistant telling him to fix the situation as it reflected badly on the Yamaguchi name. To Isaiah, the situation didn’t seem that bad, and was actually quite pleased with his assigned nickname. ‘The Gentleman’ had quite the ring to it. Even so, if his grandfather was pissed off, then Isaiah was pissed off.

The phone call had him worked up, once he hung up and the assistant said goodbye with a sneer Isaiah could just picture. Sitting on his bed, Isaiah rubbed his eyes in annoyance before grabbing his phone and texting his friends the news. Well, friend. He doesn’t have many friends, but a lot of people have declared him their enemy or most hated person and Isaiah prides himself over not remembering any of their names.

He sent off his text to Theo, and waited for the reply. Unsatisfied with Theo’s answering texts, Isaiah donned his expensive coat and shoes to saunter (because he saunters and definitely doesn’t speedwalk) towards Theo’s room. He sent off another text, alerting Theo to his incoming presence.

Theo had taken the time to move the speakers away from his Marlena’s wall. But that was where his motivation died. The speakers now lay in the middle of the floor, bunching up one of the animal skin rugs. Theo had taken to laying back on the couch.

He watched his phone flash and buzzed, alerting him to another message. Undoubtedly Isaiah. But the lack of pay back from moving his speakers across the room had left him absent of all energy.

Isaiah didn’t give him the time to check his phone. A few minutes later there was a sharp and familiar knock on the door. With another yawn, Theo pulled himself off the couch, at least bothering to pull on a robe for this guest, although tying it shut seemed like one step far too many.

Theo opened the door. “Hey bitch, what's up?”

Isaiah squeezed past Theo, surveying the room with an idle eye. Casting a curious look over his shoulder, Isaiah said nonchalantly, “Redecorating? I think the juxtaposition of the speakers on the animal carpet really brings out the bad taste in interior design.”

“Glad you brought the thesaurus with you to this morning get together,” He said, shutting the door. “But please come in, make yourself at home. Help yourself to food...I have left over tequila and other things,” he said, tossing himself on the couch again and gesturing towards a rather well stocked bar. “And then maybe, just maybe, you’ll tell me about whatever it is that seems so important,”

Isaiah sent Theo a long-suffering glance. He jumped onto Theo’s bed and sprawled like a starfish, staring at the ceiling and hoping Theo regretted his ‘make yourself at home’ comment. “Some person on social media has given us and a couple of no-names nicknames. We’re practically viral, and not in the usual sex-way that you are used to.”

Isaiah scrolled through his phone to find the post, carefully avoiding liking any photos of the woman his grandfather wanted to set him up with, before landing on the infamous Ms. Fortune post. Annoyed all over again, Isaiah chucked his phone at Theo and trusted Theo to catch it (if not, Isaiah could always buy a new one), “See for yourself.”

Theo reached out and snatched the phone, casting a bored glance at Isaiah before turning his attention to the screen. “The Fake?” Said Theo, his tone sharp. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His eyes skimmed the rest of the list. “I get the Fake and you get the Gentleman? I honestly don't know what you're upset about. Seems to fit you just right,”

His eyes scanned the list one more time. “ The Angel? The Angel of Death would be more accurate,” He thought to himself before tossing the phone back at Isaiah.

Isaiah caught it, surprised that he did because he wasn’t even trying at that point, “I don’t need anyone to be in my business right now. Besides, aren’t you even the littlest bit irritated by it?” Isaiah pushed himself upright to give Theo a full 4k view of his displeased face, “Someone posted my picture up in public - that’s an invasion of privacy and supremely fucked up.”

“Oh I am, but of all the nicknames on the list, I’d say you got off easy,” Theo pulled himself up into a sitting position. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Rolling his eyes, Isaiah pushed forward instead of commenting, “I’ll probably flash some money until the problem goes away. I’m going to head down to the festivities right now, ask around - or, better yet, pay someone to ask around.”

Isaiah paused and stared at Theo’s speakers. Hiring a private investigator would be the best bet, most probably, and the money wasn’t a problem, either.

“What are you going to do about it?” Isaiah asked, after refocusing on Theo.

“Sit and wait for now. But I’m not just going to let this go,” Said Theo, joking of course, but then there was that look…

“Yikes,” Isaiah whistled, finally making himself uncomfortable in Theo’s house. “Well, I have to go google private investigators. Have fun…” Isaiah gestured towards Theo’s general demeanor, “...stewing, I guess.”

With that, he sauntered (and definitely didn’t sulk) out the door.