Hillan

NERO'S SUPER INTEREST CHECK THREAD WITH A CLICHE TITLE

God damn Weirdo Mr. BrhuehuehueMan

Cartoon Network Fusion (Cartoon Network Multiverse Roleplay)

Swat Kats?

Post Your Pikcha

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

I didn't think it was racist...?

<Snipped quote by SgtEasy>

only slightly tho
"BUT IT IS AMAZING!"

I'm a fan of 'em. Zylbrad's my spirit animal- and how could he not be?! I'm a bastion main, and he showed me that bastions CAN be viable in competitive. And just watching those guys has actually improved my own OW Skilllllssss

@OfWindAndRain

Nerd.

Post Your Pikcha

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

Identities of these people for those who don't know

Tyrodin (or Shawn/Shaun/something like that), Muselk (or Elliot, or muscle-k, or moosetits, or g-rated zylbrad), zylbrad (or Brad.)

@OfWindAndRain

No, I was talking more about Filthy Frank or Rice Gum.

I know, racist.

Sue me.

Post Your Pikcha

@SgtEasy
You kinda look like one of those meme youtubers.

facorino

It was about this time I realized that with a shave and contacts, I could pass for a half decent Mick Rory cosplay from DC's Legends Of Tomorrow.

One Piece: A Golden Age, A Dark Age - The Boozehound Chronicles

Kuhn grinned. " I wouldn't dream of shooting you!" He shouted, he looked Elaina in the eyes, and chugged the rest of the bottle. "Pucker up." He said, the pistol aimed at Lina, waving off to the side as he spoke and drank, he put the bottle away from his lips, and then he fired, the bullet flew off towards the side, hitting a pan hanging on a rack on the side of the inn, heading behind Lina, hitting a the metal breastplate of some schmuck in a armor on the other side of the street from such an angle it richotted, instead of pierce, back towards Lina. Due to it's many bounces, it had lost quite a lot of it's force, finally striking the top of the full bottle, it only hit it hard enough to pop off the lid, and make the bottle fall slowly down into Lina's crossed arms, good to drink.

Kuhn twirled the piece of shit flintlock in his hand, before handing it back, grip first to Elaina, whom was in fact, quite amused, as the other patrons of the inn all lost their minds at the shot the Grog Warrior Gunner had just taken. Kuhn smirked, as he stroked the brim of his hand with his finger. "All right, how about dat bet, love?"

Elaina chuckled. "You'll get your reward. But, Stagio Island gambling rules dictate that the loser of a wager has one day to pay. It was a good wager, Kuhn." She said, with a smile, blowing him a kiss before she walked in the other direction. Kuhn gestured that he caught the kiss and put it against his chest, towards his heart, his hand against his head.

"Hey, Lina! You can get back here now!" He shouted. "I made us a Mill. Think the Cap'n will be happy?"

One Piece: A Golden Age, A Dark Age - The Boozehound Chronicles

"Information? I did find out plenty. There's four inns like dis one. this is Locksley inn. And dere's three more. They're all said weird. People around here are right plunked in the brain." He informed her. "I think it's because of da drinkin'. Ain't good for ya." He said, taking sips off of the drink in his hand, his cheeks growing red as he felt the alcohol take it's roots in him.

After Lina's comments about beer, Kuhn glanced at her. "Beer is pretty good. I prefer a brisk cider, like dis one!" He exclaimed, chugging the entire bottle, letting out a burp as he was done, a lot of his natural grace and elegance was lost. One of the patrons, whom Kuhn had arm wrestled earler piped up. "Hey, calm down you lightweight, that's just your second drink" Kuhn looked at him with his brown eyes and growled, pushing back his chair from the table, and standing on the chair, one foot on the seat, the other on the back, a hand on his hand as he did.

"ALL RITE YA SLACKERS WHO WANTS A PIECE OF THE KUHN-MAN? BEST SHOT IN THE ENTIRE NORTH BLUE, I'LL BET ANYONE WHO TRIES TO PROVE ME OTHERWISE!" He shouted, his arms at his side for affect. From the back room, a soft giggle was heard. "You want to bet, about marksmanship? That's surely the name of my game." The green haired woman said, as she made her way out of the room. "My name is Elaina Dart, and I fancy myself quite the shot, and a gambler, at that. Nature decides who wins, and who loses, it's out of our hands. So, do you care to wager with me?" Elaina asked, smiling as she swept her green hair away from her face, her pale skin almost glowing, like her emerald eyes.

Kuhn's heartrate raced, and he smiled. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't take such a fine lady's request for a wager? What did ya have in mind, love?"

Elaina giggled. "I bet you can't shoot a beer bottle off someone's head. at 200 meters." Kuhn smiled, pulling up his revolver from it's holster, twirling it in his hand. "Dat it? What's da stakes?"

"Well, if you lose, I want that rifle of yours. It's a real beauty and would go great in my collection." Kuhn smirked. "Dat it?" Elaina nodded. "And when I win?" He responded.

"What do you want?"

"From a fair maiden like yourself? Nothing more but a kiss and your favor." He responded, feeling a jab in his ribs from Lina, smiling softly at her. "Oh, and one million Bellies, my rifle is worth a lot more then dat." He twirled his revolver again, and headed towards the door. Elaina held up her hand, in protest. "Wait, you can't use your revolver. That's a very modified gun. The gun does all the heavy lifting for you. Use this, instead." She said, handing him a very worn flintlock, probably more than a hundred years old. Kuhn scoffed. "Fine." Leaving his revolver in it's holster, he turned around and slung his rifle on his back, grabbing his bottle with hte other hand. "To raise da stakes, one to carry dat dere bottle on da head will be my little friend here." He said, looking at Lina. The patrons were all cheering at this little wager, as Kuhn walked outside, waiting for Lina to get positioned on the other side of the street, with a bottle on her head, as he examined the gun in his hand. It was old, really old. It was loaded, firing pin was intact, and the gunpowder wasn't great, but it would do.

The hair trigger however was terrible, it couldn't shoot straight worth nothing. "Heh, dis is one shoddy gun."

" A great marksman does not need a great gun, Kuhn." Elaina insisted on, and the gunner shrugged, taking another sip of his drink.

"You ready Lina?!" He shouted.

Saisei: The Crimson Dawn

They're anime only, so not real.

#Mangaistheonetruestory

Hillan's Parade Of Characters

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Hotou Senju

“I'll always do my best. It's not always enough.”

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NAME

Senju Hotou

ALIAS

The Senju Bandit

GENDER

Male

AGE

13

ORIGIN

Konohagakure

RANK

Genin

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APPEARANCE

Standing at 151 CM tall, weighing in at roughly 40 kilograms, he's a perfectly normally sized boy for his age and profession. He's lean, his skin rather pale, yet a hint of tan from many hours in the sun. His eyes have a brown - almost golden hue to them. He's got birthmarks around his eyes His short spikey hair is in the same color as his mother's, a light, sandy brown, appearing darker in certain lights. His father is supposedly certain that he'll grow a red beard one day, Hotou rues the day.
He's clad in earthly green, brown and gray colors, donning a leather strap with two holsters for his tantos over his green jacket. His forehead protector's attached to a bandanna that he pulls over his face to cover on occasion, often as an indication for himself to fight seriously or as a means to appear more intimidating or stealthy.

PERSONALITY & MOTIVATIONS

He carries a uncertainty around him, a uncertainty in his abilities and a uncertainty in his decisions. He's afraid he'll make the wrong move, sometimes, so afraid he doesn't make any moves at all. He's working on becoming more confident, on daring to do things and to put his foot forward, but for now, he's a rather reserved individual. Speaking when spoken too, but afraid of eye contact, not one to speak his mind or to comment about others. He's burdened heavily by the legacy of both his parents, and it's shown to weigh him down, sometimes he wishes he had just been born to ordinary people, and not the heroes both of his parents are.

He's really uncomfortable about talking about either his clan or his father and prefers to do neither. The one thing that does give him confidence and makes him feel calm and self-assured is in the forest. He's got a natural connection to the peace within the forests that years ago were filled with war.

He dreams of becoming all people expect him to be, to be as brave and strong as his father, but as loving and as honorable as his mother. To overcome his fears and tap into all the potential he's sure he has, somewhere.

CLAN HISTORY

Senju Clan - One of the Founding Clans of the Hidden Village of the Leaf. His mother, Mitsuko, comes from the Branch clan, and he is as such not in line to ever inherent the leadership of the clan..

Eiichiro Clan; A clan of rather mediocre shinobi, one who joined the Hidden Leaf some 60 years ago. His father, Kishimoto, one of the greatest heroes of the last war, is the exception to this rule. His father's strength, brilliance and bravery in combat's made him a world famous hero. Due to his heroics during the assault on Konoha, and his impressive military career, it's speculated that Kishimoto was considered as the next Hokage, following the end of the war, but was forgone because of his injuries. Kishimoto is the head of the clan, and one day, Hotou will lead it.

PERSONAL HISTORY

Hotou's life is in many ways average, somewhat dull. His parents were never martyrs, he had no great tragedy, the greatest tragedy he's ever had was when his housecat ran away for four weeks. Everything's been nice and relaxed for him, ever since he was a child parents have shown him respect, referring to him with honorifics and being incredibly nice to him, all because of the accomplishments of his parents, and the circumstances around his birth. The Hidden Leaf watched him from a very young age, and the Village Elders, especially Senju Yaguruma were pushing for him to begin his shinobi training as soon as possible, as the child of Kishimoto and Mitsuko, Hotuo's is expected to become amongst Konoha's elite and surpass both of his parents. As such, he's had many instructors, teachers and masters, both inside and out of the academy, not having a lot of free time.

His 'isolation' has lead to him not having a lot of friends, that, and the uncertainties that follow the burden that's laid upon him to become someone incredible. He never had the guts to try and make friends in the Academy, keeping mostly to himself - afraid that if he showed people what he could do, or rather, what he couldn't do, as far as being a shinobi went, they'd be disappointed in him and reject him.

When he was 10, the elders decided it was time for him to take the graduation test in the academy - a test he failed, it becoming evident that he's not what the village had hoped for him. He's no natural talent, no elite member of the Hidden Leaf. His training would slow down, him only partaking in the regular ciriculum of the Academy once he reached his preteen years, with his father and mother's encouragement, he too has finally managed to pass the academy exam.

INFLUENCE & RELATIONS

Mitsuko's a brilliant Mokuton User, and his teacher in the art, she's a well respected shinobi, both in the clan and outside of it, and because of the influence and power of the Senju clan, her and Kishimoto's son carries her name. His father's valiant actions and reputation has earned Hotou a lot of undeserved respect that he hates.

He's not one who has many friends, preferring to keep to his own, unsure - and too afraid to find out what others think of him.

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CHAKRA NATURE

Earth, Wind, Lightning, Fire, Water; genin likely won't know the nature of their chakra for some time though.

SPECIAL TRAITS

General special affinities, talents, and abilities. Include your Kekkei Genkai if you have one.

FOCUS & SKILLS

A brief idea of skills your character leans toward and the like, no need to go into huge detail; needed for understanding of moderation staff for balancing issues. How does your character fight? Do they lean to Taijutsu or Ninjutsu? You get it.

EQUIPMENT & INVENTORY

General equipment used or educated with.

JUTSU

Obvious list is obvious. Link to the Naruto wiki as well.

S Rank

N/A

A Rank

N/A

B Rank

■

C Rank

■
■

D Rank

■
■
■

E Rank

Academy Techniques

CUSTOM JUTSU

Obvious list is obvious.

Justu Name

Name

Text.

Rank

Text.

Range

Text.

Description

Text.

Hillan's Parade Of Characters

𝔄𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔯 𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔩𝔦𝔫𝑘

Appearance:
Above average height, the build you'd expect from a soldier with his abilities, a lean warrior who's frame allows for a perfect harmony between speed and power. His normally well groomed facial hair has, since his imprisonment gotten a little rougher. His hairstyle's lost a lot of it's grace. While still considered handsome, he's grown more rugged in the later years. His green eyes have grown dull, and that fire that was once inside of him has since long faded.

Epithet
The Golden Prince

Age: 32

Race: Human, hailing from the kingdom of Ilya.

Profession: Conscript.

Personality:
In a word, Arthur's complex. He's a skilled warrior, a well tried and proven commander and a great ally to anyone who would have him. He's able to adapt to the slums, or the noble courts – from which he's born, of Ilya. Get work protecting an Akivir convoy, or commandeering a ship protecting merchants from the New World from pirates. He generally gets along with most people – unless they upset his sensibilities.

Intelligent and cunning, able to stave off a fight when necessary, but not afraid to push the advantage when it's presented, showing a martial prowess beyond his years, yet showing off his decade and a half of experience in the service.

He's generally rather bored of the peace in the continent of Yggdrasil, and while a officer in the Ilya army, he still gets into his fair share of trouble. Dreams of becoming a folk hero, someone who's legacy will be remembered forever for his valor, his honor and his protecting of the weaker are all factors that drags him into trouble. Well, that, and his giant flirt. It's in fact what landed him in this predicament to begin with.

Coming off as deeply religious, praying the divine Gods daily, his extra-martial affairs tends to paint him as quite the hypocrite. He blames his affairs on his artistic soul, claiming the gods put him in this world to follow his heart, and there's not been a woman yet he has not fallen in love with.
He deems himself something of a Druid of the developed world, in deep touch with cities – especially his home in the capital of Ilya, as opposed to the forests. Finally, he's mistrusting of magic and their uses, rather relying on a regular flintlock pistol and his trusty sword over fireballs and thunder from the sky.

There are attributes of his personality, especially the more likable ones, the reliable ones, don't shine through the six years worth of constant alcohol consumption, giving off more of a sarcastic asshole who likes getting into trouble, than the complex man Arthur really is.

Backstory:

Frankly, Arthur Goldlink's story's starts rather dull, he was born comfortable in excess, never meant to work a day in is life. He's born to Jack Goldlink, former knight of the Papal Knights, Grandson of George Goldlink, one of the most fierce bankers in the entirely of Yggdrasil's recent history. As such, he's the third generation Nobleman, raised as such. He faked his father's signature, and stole his signet ring one night after a courtly party at their estate and signed himself up to go attend the Royal military school, shipping off a week later, having convinced his father it was a good idea, after all. Even as a teenager, Arthur was a clever boy, finding new and interesting ways of solving his problems, but often they came back with new problems.

He graduated the academy two years faster than his peers, he was a natural soldier, quick to take to orders, a man of action, a man of the sword. He furthered his skills by attending the Officer school, his first official mission was as captain of a small naval vessel of 20 men, meant to be part of a convoy that would protect approaching merchant ships from the New World.

His mettle was first tested when one of those ships was infested with Pirates whom had taken the merchants hostage, and were outnumbering his own crew two to one. With his tactics and sword skills, a display of his bravery and at risk of his own personal health, he and his crew took back the ship, rescuing the hostages and bringing all of the pirates into custody, it was how he earned his nickname by the men under his command, his lastname and his royal-like demeanor were the basis for it.

Following the incident, his vessel was Dubbed The Golden Prince, and the crew were named the Golden Stripes, each and everyone of them proving to be valiant warriors and capable soldiers, doing everything they could for their country.

The adventures of the Golden Stripes were many, protecting the innocent from bandits and ruffians, while serving their homeland they earned great fame, all to further fuel Arthur's Hubris and his dream of heroisms, pushing him into greater and greater dangers.

One mission, after the emergence of the monsters in the New World The Golden Stripes were sent as backup. Not even one week out of landing The New World, the monsters attacked their unit, decimating his friends, none of his swordplay, or careful planning could save the lives of the greatest friends he had ever known. He had always been brave in the face of danger, never been afraid to die, putting his honor above his live. But this, this was something else. He ran, hearing the final screams of his men, men who had trusted him and called him a brother for the past decade.

He left them to die, returning back home, he dove deeply into alcoholism and whatever joys he could find, constantly at odds with both his father, and the rest of the noble, but also his superiors and his fellow officers. The last straw came last year, when he was caught in the bedroom of the Minister of the Soldiery, the highest superior in his field.

The minister challenged him to a duel, provoking Arthur as much as he could, the man almost twice Arthur's age. Arthur did not just win the duel, but he humiliated the Minister, robbing him of his pride and his honor, gloating over his warrior prowess. The Minister spat a venomous line about all of that swordplay couldn't save his friends in the New World and Arthur snapped.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in the dungeon, handcuffed and in tattered clothes. Blood stains on his face and clothes. It came back to him, he had killed the Minister, stabbed him six times, and when the guards moved to arrest him, he had cut two of them down, before he was finally stopped by a mage.

He was going to get executed, and none of his former glory was gonna save him. Nor could the near-unlimited influence of his patriarch. The only thing his father could do for his beloved son was plead with the court to give his son a different fate. A chance to redeem himself. To return to the New World and seek redemption. His father knew it was a suicide mission, but he had hoped they would have put Arthur in charge of another patrol, and not as a conscript. But Jack's influence had limits, indeed.

Being shipped off to the new world, Arthur's going to have to fight to survive, with no one to have his back. Well and truly, he's alone in the New World.

Skills and Abilities:
Martial Training; Put in the Royal Military Academy at the age of 14, he shattered all records. Graduating from the prestigious academy at the mere age of 16, two years quicker than his peers, a fully trained soldier as it were, yet, that was not enough for him. He studied to become an officer and had the rank of Commander of a battalion at the age of 19, all in testament of his skills as a soldier and commanding officer.

Duelist; While shooting a rifle and a pistol were both part of the training regiment he went through, they were never his talent. Besides planning and seeing things from a different perspective than most – both things that lent themselves to commandeering, he's an excellent swordsman. Doing his best word in a one on one duel. His personal favorite is the finesse and elegance of a rapier, but he is a quick study and skilled with just about any straight sword.

Survivalist; He's an adept survivalist, just not out in the forest. He does not know how to setup traps, he only knows that one should, nor how to collect food, and he's not much of a hunter. No, his survival skill comes from dealing with other people, bartering information for supplies. Able to tend to the needs of others usually always goes well.

Brawler; When without a sword, he's fully capable of throwing the gloves and having a old fashioned brawl, brawling champion in the Garrison for three years in a row – before his disbarment, that is.

Naval Combat; He's unable to man any part of the ship except that of Captain, able to direct the rest of the crew for the best course of action, yet, his understanding of Naval Combat's impressive.


Equipment:
Conscript equipment. He wears his family crest on a necklace around his neck, carrying a run off the mill rapier that was handed to him by the garrison. The only thing he carries that's his own is his leather chest armor with it's one shoulder pad, that once bore the mark of the Golden Stripes, but since his last visit in the area, it's been cut off with a knife, leaving scarring in the leather. He carries a flask with vodka in it, now his most priced possession.