Name: Hyakkiako, Gyokusho
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Village: Kumogakure
Rank: D
Title: "Osho"
Clan: Yokai
Bloodline: Yokai - Tengu, II
Element(s): N/A
Skill(s):
Stats
Unique Abilities:
Tall and broad, well-kept, well-muscled, well-manicured, and undeniably pretty, "Osha" magnifies his physicality, both on and off stage, with a larger than life personality. Thick, wavy blond hair cascades from his pale, smiling face down to his almost porcelain, muscled shoulders and though he maintains a defined physical tone to his body, one would never be tempted to categorize him as particularly beefy. No, much better to label him sleek and lithe, descriptors magnified by his sharp face, small nose, and mirthful, eyes; eyes which almost immediately out him as something not quite human. A mottled shifting of pearlescent pink-and-aqua, he has no proper pupils, instead black kanji for "love" and "bullet" take the places of pedestrian pupils, one for each eye.
Though he prefers, when offered, to remain in the nude with assorted confidants, clothing remains a requirement of civilized society and he dresses to impress. Or perhaps hypnotize might be a better way of putting it. He loves fine silk robes of elaborate embroideries, or perfectly tailored button ups which he leaves unbuttoned down to his navel. Rings often adorn his long, slender fingers and on stage he dons his signature hat, an article which has gained extreme popularity in the last few years among the less war-like in Kumo.
His movements reflect his practiced smoothness: he hardly ever walks, but instead sashays about; he does not merely lift a cup to his mouth but raises a chalice to take a long, cool drink; he does not have sex but ravishes the body and soul of those with whom he shares his bed. And, when he has it his way, he shares his bed with many. He does not prefer long monologues about his nonsense ideals but, when he does speak, his rich baritone pleases all those who can hear. For those unfortunately without such abilities, his tongue will happily please their ears if only they ask.
History:
The dull red glow of a hundred paper lanterns no longer lit the street far below the large, elaborate pent-house-turned-party-den. A cloud of incense - and god knows what else- hung in the room, now illuminated after the record scratch ending of the party's sudden conclusion. What had promised to extend from mid-evening, through the newest show, until perhaps tonight had ended at just after 10, the light of the day encroaching rudely upon what promised to be a dark day indeed.
Gripped tightly within the beautiful hands of Osha, pop-star extraordinaire, the summons from the leader of the village crumpled more and more as his grip tightened. Removing a single hand from the balcony, he reached to his side and downed a gulp very old bourbon, gagged slightly, and scanned the document once more. As he had guess, the current war had gone less well that originally anticipated and the battlements needed additional warm bodies. But why him? What could the military possibly need with a singer-songwriter-performer? Sure, he had a few illicit ties and backwater purchasing avenues, but surely the office of the Kage had as good if not better access.
It was that bloodline of his. To be fair, he figured he should have counted himself lucky that it had taken so long to receive a conscription. He'd hoped that the offices had simply forgotten about his ill-tended to heritage.
His life's work up to this point simply abolished in a swift missive. A single note. All the instruments he had thought up and crafted himself, all the shows, the songs. He laughed bitterly at the absurdity of drafting Kumo's rising star, though the irony of his performances constantly being criticized by mindless plebeians as being too "high concept;" well what more could he do in the efforts of a high-concept performance than that of a ninja. But perhaps too high concept even for him. For now, he still had some more shows to attend, and technically the shinobi life had nothing in particular against a life of debauchery. In fact, if the rumors were too, ninja tended to be downright lunatics.
Personality:Gyokusho conjures the image of something like a classical gentleman filtered through the ambient musings of a scratched up piece of vinyl minted fifty years prior and focusing primarily on a futuristic vision of good times and frenetic techno-pop; or, he is a perfect mashup between a night of fine bourbon and cigar smoking and strobed dance floor covered in sweat from the overuse of molly. All of this to say that, on the most surface of levels, he eschews the expectations one might form upon first seeing his elegance and dapperness in favor of a wild and joy-filled mixture of those same refinements taken to an extreme level and with just a touch of the devilishly insane tossed in for good measure. And obviously both shaken and then stirred up.
He loves his vices, likely because they are vices, and thus you will find his drinking, smoking, fighting, brawling, goading, flirting, baiting, shouting, dancing the disco, disrupting the peace as much as possible. Most around him find it impossible to tell if he is bisexual or simply a chronic flirt and tease, but most assuredly he loves his women and, by sheer volume of noise, the sound as if they love him too, unless of course transience is a turn-off for you; but, is life not a fleeting moment? In conversation he moves for bluntness and dislikes pussy-footing around in formalities, though he can trade barbs with the best of them, and it appears that he cannot take anything seriously whatsoever, always caught with a little grin on his face, an invitation to ask away and join in his drunken reveries.
While dancing the apocalypse on a nightly bases can easily take its toll on the best of us, Gyo's energy abounds in an almost childlike manner as he sprints frenetically to and fro to suck the marrow from life. That said, his antics and urges belie a certain political shrewdness and compulsion towards domination. One does not build a cult-like musical empire based solely upon charisma and a penchant for radical soundscapes; no, Osho must also sleep with his fans to achieve this.
Roleplay Sample:
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Village: Kumogakure
Rank: D
Title: "Osho"
Clan: Yokai
Bloodline: Yokai - Tengu, II
Element(s): N/A
Skill(s):
- Puppetry
- Bloodline (Yokai)
- Stat Trade
- Stat Trade
Stats
- Strength: D++ (Yokai)
- Constitution: D
- Stamina: D
- Speed: D
- Coordination: C (B with Tengu + Kumo living)
- Intelligence: B
- Perception: D
Unique Abilities:
- Ambidextrous: The life of a multi-instrumental genius has its combat perks. Gyokusho may perform one-handed hand seals, but his coordination is treated as one rank lower to that purpose.
- 2: May craft an item one rank higher than what their current experience or skill set allows. This can result in a 50% increase in price for material..
- 3: Auto-hit NPC's one rank higher in urban or areas with cover (towns, cities, forests, etc). Auto-hit NPC's one rank lower in open areas (dessert, plain, etc).
- 4: Gyokusho’s Intelligence is treated as 1 rank higher for the purposes of recognizing Genjutsu, though at a cost of taking one rank higher in psychological damage from Genjutsu.
- 5: Can toggle to take -- to Strength in exchange for ++ to Perception. 5 cp to activate; remains active for the rest of thread.
Though he prefers, when offered, to remain in the nude with assorted confidants, clothing remains a requirement of civilized society and he dresses to impress. Or perhaps hypnotize might be a better way of putting it. He loves fine silk robes of elaborate embroideries, or perfectly tailored button ups which he leaves unbuttoned down to his navel. Rings often adorn his long, slender fingers and on stage he dons his signature hat, an article which has gained extreme popularity in the last few years among the less war-like in Kumo.
His movements reflect his practiced smoothness: he hardly ever walks, but instead sashays about; he does not merely lift a cup to his mouth but raises a chalice to take a long, cool drink; he does not have sex but ravishes the body and soul of those with whom he shares his bed. And, when he has it his way, he shares his bed with many. He does not prefer long monologues about his nonsense ideals but, when he does speak, his rich baritone pleases all those who can hear. For those unfortunately without such abilities, his tongue will happily please their ears if only they ask.
History:
"Out"
The dull red glow of a hundred paper lanterns no longer lit the street far below the large, elaborate pent-house-turned-party-den. A cloud of incense - and god knows what else- hung in the room, now illuminated after the record scratch ending of the party's sudden conclusion. What had promised to extend from mid-evening, through the newest show, until perhaps tonight had ended at just after 10, the light of the day encroaching rudely upon what promised to be a dark day indeed.
Gripped tightly within the beautiful hands of Osha, pop-star extraordinaire, the summons from the leader of the village crumpled more and more as his grip tightened. Removing a single hand from the balcony, he reached to his side and downed a gulp very old bourbon, gagged slightly, and scanned the document once more. As he had guess, the current war had gone less well that originally anticipated and the battlements needed additional warm bodies. But why him? What could the military possibly need with a singer-songwriter-performer? Sure, he had a few illicit ties and backwater purchasing avenues, but surely the office of the Kage had as good if not better access.
It was that bloodline of his. To be fair, he figured he should have counted himself lucky that it had taken so long to receive a conscription. He'd hoped that the offices had simply forgotten about his ill-tended to heritage.
His life's work up to this point simply abolished in a swift missive. A single note. All the instruments he had thought up and crafted himself, all the shows, the songs. He laughed bitterly at the absurdity of drafting Kumo's rising star, though the irony of his performances constantly being criticized by mindless plebeians as being too "high concept;" well what more could he do in the efforts of a high-concept performance than that of a ninja. But perhaps too high concept even for him. For now, he still had some more shows to attend, and technically the shinobi life had nothing in particular against a life of debauchery. In fact, if the rumors were too, ninja tended to be downright lunatics.
Personality:Gyokusho conjures the image of something like a classical gentleman filtered through the ambient musings of a scratched up piece of vinyl minted fifty years prior and focusing primarily on a futuristic vision of good times and frenetic techno-pop; or, he is a perfect mashup between a night of fine bourbon and cigar smoking and strobed dance floor covered in sweat from the overuse of molly. All of this to say that, on the most surface of levels, he eschews the expectations one might form upon first seeing his elegance and dapperness in favor of a wild and joy-filled mixture of those same refinements taken to an extreme level and with just a touch of the devilishly insane tossed in for good measure. And obviously both shaken and then stirred up.
He loves his vices, likely because they are vices, and thus you will find his drinking, smoking, fighting, brawling, goading, flirting, baiting, shouting, dancing the disco, disrupting the peace as much as possible. Most around him find it impossible to tell if he is bisexual or simply a chronic flirt and tease, but most assuredly he loves his women and, by sheer volume of noise, the sound as if they love him too, unless of course transience is a turn-off for you; but, is life not a fleeting moment? In conversation he moves for bluntness and dislikes pussy-footing around in formalities, though he can trade barbs with the best of them, and it appears that he cannot take anything seriously whatsoever, always caught with a little grin on his face, an invitation to ask away and join in his drunken reveries.
While dancing the apocalypse on a nightly bases can easily take its toll on the best of us, Gyo's energy abounds in an almost childlike manner as he sprints frenetically to and fro to suck the marrow from life. That said, his antics and urges belie a certain political shrewdness and compulsion towards domination. One does not build a cult-like musical empire based solely upon charisma and a penchant for radical soundscapes; no, Osho must also sleep with his fans to achieve this.
Roleplay Sample:
Last edited by Gyokusho on Sun Oct 04, 2020 5:08 pm; edited 16 times in total
