Name:Motohira Chinoike
Age:12
Gender:Male
Village:Kumogakure
Rank:Genin
Title:N/A
Clan:Chinoike
Bloodline:chinoike Ketsuryugan
Element(s):Lightning
Skill(s): 1 ninjutsu
1 kenjutsu
Stats
Unique Abilities:none
Appearance:
History:Depression. That one word took up most of Motohira's life. His father, Botun Chinoike, was a Jounin, spending most of his time at work, whilst Botun' wife, Taketada, stayed at home with Motohira. Motohira doesn't remember this though, as his mother sadly passed away when he was two. His father had to stay at home, looking after Motohira, and this is all Motohira remembers. Taketada's death left Botun in a deep depression, and he turned to alcohol, to drown his sorrows. One day, Botun got very drunk, and insulted a man in the street. Botun came home that night and went to sleep - after he'd sobered up. That night, Botun was awoke by a thud downstairs, and it sounded as if someone came in through the door. Botun crept to his son's room, telling Motohira to stay in his room no matter wha. Botun then went downstairs, and saw it was the man he insulted, armed to kill. The two fought, blowing up qite a large porion of the house. This was when Mootohira ran downstairs, after hearing his father howl in pain. Motohira stood in front of his father, staring as bravely as he could, at the cold expression on the killer's face. Justthen, the killer took his kunai, and slashed at Motohira's eye, leaving a scar, and blinding him, in that eye. In a fit of rage, the wounded Botun charged at the man, only to have his throat slit. This left a huge impact on Motohira, who was now orphaned. The physical scar was something he'd grown used to, but the mental effect it had on him, was a huge one. Motohia was notoriously known in the Ninja Academy, for how cold he was, never caring about others. He kept a simple motto, "it is better to be wolf, than a lamb". His cold outlook made him quite distant from his classmates, and all Motohira does in his spare time is train.
Personality:A cold, anti-social boy. He hates being around large crowds, and feels comfortable when he's alone. He cares only for himself, and shows no sympathy, pity, or care for anyone beside himself.
Roleplay Sample:Cilas strummed the strings of his lute, as the patrons of the inn drank, and rejoiced. It was his usual fare of a few coins, but the money was better than nothing. Cilas had been staying in the inn for a few days, and he'd offered to play, as to save money on rent (which he was no longer paying, in return for his services). A few drunkards lifted their flagons in rhythm, and tossed Cilas a few coins. Cilas was tired. but he had to continue. He planned to make a good enough profit, as to secure lodging elsewhere. Time seemed to blur together, when Cilas played the lute he loved so dearly.
Cilas' fingers soon bean to get stiff, as a result of his long hours of playing, so he took a seat on a stool next to the door. He waved to the owner to fix him a drink, and Cilas leaned back (without falling off). Things had been difficult since Cilas had an... "incident" with a noble's wife. The man was, uhh, displeased, to say the least. Then again, Cilas never learned. He couldn't help himself, I mean, can you blame him. Actually, maybe you could; chances are he's slept with someone close to you.
When he'd received his drink, Cilas drank it silently. "Another uneventful day." He sighed, before remembering the owner's wife. [Actually, no, she's got too much weight] Cilas thought, removing any "devious" thoughts he may have had, from his mind. Everyday felt slow. Boring. Cilas craved adventure, but here he was, confined to an inn, playing for drunkards who couldn't appreciate his talent.
Age:12
Gender:Male
Village:Kumogakure
Rank:Genin
Title:N/A
Clan:Chinoike
Bloodline:chinoike Ketsuryugan
Element(s):Lightning
Skill(s): 1 ninjutsu
1 kenjutsu
Stats
- Strength:D
- Constitution:D
- Stamina:C
- Speed:D
- Coordination:D
- Intelligence:D
- Perception:C
Unique Abilities:none
Appearance:
History:Depression. That one word took up most of Motohira's life. His father, Botun Chinoike, was a Jounin, spending most of his time at work, whilst Botun' wife, Taketada, stayed at home with Motohira. Motohira doesn't remember this though, as his mother sadly passed away when he was two. His father had to stay at home, looking after Motohira, and this is all Motohira remembers. Taketada's death left Botun in a deep depression, and he turned to alcohol, to drown his sorrows. One day, Botun got very drunk, and insulted a man in the street. Botun came home that night and went to sleep - after he'd sobered up. That night, Botun was awoke by a thud downstairs, and it sounded as if someone came in through the door. Botun crept to his son's room, telling Motohira to stay in his room no matter wha. Botun then went downstairs, and saw it was the man he insulted, armed to kill. The two fought, blowing up qite a large porion of the house. This was when Mootohira ran downstairs, after hearing his father howl in pain. Motohira stood in front of his father, staring as bravely as he could, at the cold expression on the killer's face. Justthen, the killer took his kunai, and slashed at Motohira's eye, leaving a scar, and blinding him, in that eye. In a fit of rage, the wounded Botun charged at the man, only to have his throat slit. This left a huge impact on Motohira, who was now orphaned. The physical scar was something he'd grown used to, but the mental effect it had on him, was a huge one. Motohia was notoriously known in the Ninja Academy, for how cold he was, never caring about others. He kept a simple motto, "it is better to be wolf, than a lamb". His cold outlook made him quite distant from his classmates, and all Motohira does in his spare time is train.
Personality:A cold, anti-social boy. He hates being around large crowds, and feels comfortable when he's alone. He cares only for himself, and shows no sympathy, pity, or care for anyone beside himself.
Roleplay Sample:Cilas strummed the strings of his lute, as the patrons of the inn drank, and rejoiced. It was his usual fare of a few coins, but the money was better than nothing. Cilas had been staying in the inn for a few days, and he'd offered to play, as to save money on rent (which he was no longer paying, in return for his services). A few drunkards lifted their flagons in rhythm, and tossed Cilas a few coins. Cilas was tired. but he had to continue. He planned to make a good enough profit, as to secure lodging elsewhere. Time seemed to blur together, when Cilas played the lute he loved so dearly.
Cilas' fingers soon bean to get stiff, as a result of his long hours of playing, so he took a seat on a stool next to the door. He waved to the owner to fix him a drink, and Cilas leaned back (without falling off). Things had been difficult since Cilas had an... "incident" with a noble's wife. The man was, uhh, displeased, to say the least. Then again, Cilas never learned. He couldn't help himself, I mean, can you blame him. Actually, maybe you could; chances are he's slept with someone close to you.
When he'd received his drink, Cilas drank it silently. "Another uneventful day." He sighed, before remembering the owner's wife. [Actually, no, she's got too much weight] Cilas thought, removing any "devious" thoughts he may have had, from his mind. Everyday felt slow. Boring. Cilas craved adventure, but here he was, confined to an inn, playing for drunkards who couldn't appreciate his talent.
