Name: Kotoshura, Yoshihiro
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Village: Iwagakure
Rank: Genin
Title: N/a
Clan: Kotoshura
Bloodline: Explosion Release
Element(s): Raiton, Doton, Bokuton ( Purchasing both base elements with 2 Skill points)
Skill(s): Ninjutsu/Taijutsu
Stats
Unique Abilities:
n/a
Appearance:
History:
Personality:
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Village: Iwagakure
Rank: Genin
Title: N/a
Clan: Kotoshura
Bloodline: Explosion Release
Element(s): Raiton, Doton, Bokuton ( Purchasing both base elements with 2 Skill points)
Skill(s): Ninjutsu/Taijutsu
Stats
- Strength: C
- Constitution: D
- Stamina: D
- Speed: D
- Coordination: D
- Intelligence: D
- Perception: D
- Spoiler:
- 250 xp subtracted from total amount from purchasing Explosion Release: Explosive Combat
Unique Abilities:
n/a
Appearance:
- Spoiler:
- The Face. Yoshi's face is perhaps the most striking part his entire anatomy. Despite having a toned body, his face is the area where most of his emotions and expressions come through. That is to say, Yoshi expresses himself through the various points on his face. The most important part of Yoshi's face, when it comes to expressing himself, are his eyes. Bright blue, like the deep depths of the ocean, Yoshi carries eyes that double as his other weapons. Paired with his shocking intensity, these orbs can become a tool to stab someone down, or back them into a corner. While speaking with some, his eyes will just barely flare open, creating micro-expressions that prove devastating and intimidating. The next important area to note is his mouth, bordered by full lips. Despite this being the area through which he talks, Yoshi is constantly creating various smiles and mouth movements which give off his emotions in clear indicators. Perhaps the most impressive and iconic look is the snake like, almost venomous smile he gives off when intrigued by something, or while planning some kind of vile event. In terms of just bland appearance, however, his face is beautiful. Scary, and completely terrifying, but beautiful nevertheless. Each feature is absolute, sharp, and extreme. Large, expressive eyes lay below flexible and expressive eyebrows. High cheekbones match the line of his razor sharp jaw. His skin is smooth and without blemish; or any kind of facial hair.
The Body. While his body is not as important in expressing emotions as his face, Yoshi uses his body in a different, just as important way. Over the years, more and more, Yoshi has added a wild, primal energy to his appearance, representing the deviant nature always present within him, through mostly dormant until his more experienced years. Cloaking himself in the perfect clothing to accentuate his tall and worked out body, without trying, he makes himself into a honey trap. His anatomy has come a long way on the road of maturity, developing himself into quite the man. Powerful muscles line his body, though they do not take away from his slender appearance. Broad shoulders act as the perfect hangers for whatever clothing he is wearing, with capable arms and a robust chest and stomach. Even so, his skin is smooth and without the touch of age; a hairless chest goes far to feature the tone and deviation of his muscle groups. Long legs complete his look, allowing him to stand taller than most. Beyond that overview, however, there are some key features to pay attention too. Having gone through numerous phases of mentality in his life, Yoshi is a canvas which shows his progression through the ages.
The Attire. There are many, vastly different styles of clothing that Yoshi wears - each depending on the goal, mission at hand, kind of day, and personal motive. Though, in more general statements, it is good to know and assume that each and every article of clothing the proud Kotoshura owns is made with the utmost quality; as well as some of the most expensive fabrics. He will go a long way to accomplish his look, though time is not really required; he has been known to look much more casual, mostly on days in which he does not have to present himself to others. Though, for the most part, even on these days he comes with the full blown demeanor of superiority. He likes fabrics and clothing which drapes and hangs about him in a robe or cloak's fashion. Though, he does not like wearing a uniform, most of the time - or anything that is stock, and ordinary. . Instead, he wore custom made variations, each with a heavy taste of nobility and royalty. On missions, however, Yoshi has been known to wear the common gear of a shinobi - or while training with himself; though even this happened more when he was younger, and has become less and less a part of his routine. Conceivably, the man's favorite, or at least most worn outfit, is a white cloak like haori and shihakusho variant, as shown below in the picture. Because it is mostly devoid of color, Yoshi often pairs it with a waist band of color, often one of the cooler colors, such as purple of blue: blue matching his eyes, and purple being his favorite color. Other than this, Yoshi is most commonly seen in draping, purple silk and other fine fabrics which he wears in almost seductive ways.
History:
- Spoiler:
- Crushing, pressing pain. Each push was only left in the confusion that had been brought on without the permission of the body. The squeaking of wheals screeched as the moaning woman rounded each bend in the white walled building. Each passing moment seemed to scream at her in different colors, first black and white, and then neon. Flashing, beeping, rushed communication in a dialect of English that was hardly human, filled with acronyms, symbols, codes, and medical terms, effectively leaving the most important person in the dark, despite her will to know. Her body swung with the bend of each turn in the white halls, only small noises able to escape her lips as the pressure started again. Pressure like a giant fist had taken hold of her weak body, unable to summon an adequate defense against the fist's power, only to fall victim to the crushing pressure once more. Each moment that passed was filled with the constant fight that she had been plagued with for three days. Contraction, after contraction threw her body about, and sucked the air out of her lungs before she was able to use it, leaving her fighting a war for numerous reasons with numerous enemies.
It had been three days now. Three days since the first shot had been pumped into to the woman's thin arms, each shot with the assurance that it was being pushed in for the child's best interest. Three days since her body had been beaten and battered by the obvious force of itself. Three days since she had been able to close her eyes and gather energy to fight the largest battle of all, a battle that had been left for the future to decide the victor. It had been three days since the monotone voice had told her that what was being done was needed for the baby's safety and better development. Three days, seventy two hours, four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes since the doctors had told her that the baby within her stomach, a baby that had tried numerous time to push free of the restrictive and possibly damaging cage that was assumed to be protective, was going to be held in with the use of the synthesized liquid that invaded her body and broke the rules of nature. And three days since she had begrudgingly accepted this odd treatment. But today nothing went as planned.
Each child serves nine months within the comfortable prison, fully spoiled and left to develop – however this child had a different story to tell. Another needle was to be forced into the soft but thin skin of the blonde haired, bedraggled woman. This time, the needle shared promise of finding why the child had been trying to push itself through without serving its full time inside, and why the doctors were still needing to push it back. Six weeks early, and trying to relieve itself, and yet only to find an artificial barrier that blocked its way. That was what separated this infant from most others. Correction, this was only one of the things that separated this child's story from that of the others that he would later grow up with and develop his own life with. This is the story of a miracle:
Each second caused another beep, each half second pushed another high pitched noise from somewhere else in the room. Each movement that the blonde, beautiful woman made caused some waving line to pass another mark, and dictate something. Each breath she took caused a toxic colored, glowing pair of numbers to fluctuate in value. The woman's name was Inosa. Her head moved from one side of the room to the other, trying to find anything to look at, anything to grab, anything to distract her from the process. A gel, cold and translucent, was smeared on her enlarged stomach, preparing her for the ultrasound that was to provide a location of the troublesome infant inside of her in order to avoid damage with the next intruding needle that the white clothed, masked individuals were going to shove at her. At six weeks early, the contractions had started, but the doctors had told her that she needed to stall the birth in order to provide more time for the baby boy's lungs to fully develop. This stalling time was brought on by a system of shots designed to keep the body from pushing hard enough to send the child through, as it normally would – however it did not stop the pushing altogether. Machinery blinked to life, activating the large, humming machine that was able to penetrate her body and create images based on whatever technology allowed ultrasounds to work.
It was then that the masked, white cloaked, and baffled humans that hovered about the room turned and saw what had been causing the child to try and fight for its life with such intensity. They saw the cause for the child's need to leave as early as possible. There, in the stomach, where the intestines would normally be, was a large, blank blot. A cyst. A sure tell sign that the infant had been ingesting some kind of poisonous material, given to the mother without her knowing. However the small baby's body had done something peculiar, and fought the poisonous materials off by itself. The result was a large compilation of fluids and solids that had been condensed by the child's already active protective system into a guarded barrier. Each doctor blurted out a different word, each other doctor in the room instantly being able to solve for x without problem while Inosa could only draw a blank, her pain only increasing with the sudden buzz of excitement and activity around her. Each question of what could be going on tore through her mind, but soon she was answered; answered by action. No more shots were administered to keep the male infant from coming out – just the opposite now. Everything was done to speed the process of getting him out as soon as humanly possible.
A tall, blank faced man, also endowed with long hair skidded and shuffled behind the woman, remaining silent and wide eyed in seeming disbelief. The hectic noise of the otherwise silent rooms became constantly louder and louder. It was exponential increase. Chemicals released, triggers fired, and the woman was put under the influence of her own body's panic systems, all consecutively firing in order to act as the first line of defense from the unfortunately professional act that the uncaring, and hidden doctors put on. Soon, movement struck at the woman, and she was pushed, grabbed, and lane down on a hardened, bed. A pathetic excuse for cushions allowed for some kind of false comfort, which was, in all seriousness, a futile thing to even consider. The fist was back, but stronger. This time it beat down on the woman. This time it pounded on the woman. This time it wailed at her defenses, and worked in unison, not against them. Squeezing at the metal bars that locked her into the frame of hardened bed like material, she pushed. Training did not matter in the moment, breaths came and left as they could. The stomach was not given a break, and neither was the woman. Her hands lost their grip on the metal as feeling receded from them. Her grip grew weak, and her breaths grew staggered. What seemed like hours passed as the female pushed, and contorted herself in order to cope with the pain. It was her will against the fist that beat down on her – fully loaded with pent up intention to help her, but with what measure of gentleness?
Finally, the brutal combination of sharp and dull pains clawed at the woman with more lethal claws than what had been used before, and the fist slammed down one last time, this time so hard that the result was finalized. Only something was wrong. The beeping, buzzing, whirring, screeching, zooming, noises were drowned out by silence. The silence held the slot for one noise that did not sound. The shifting, moving, transposing, fluctuating, and hurried lights suddenly did not shine in the same way. Something was, in fact, wrong. In the short time that a mother would have to wait to be able to hold their healthy, new born baby, the cloaked and heartless operators slung it mercilessly from her body, and clipped the small cord that symbolized the quickly dying bond that the infant shared between its own dwindling soul, and the mother's own nurturing, beneficial creation driven prowess. Once severed from the silent child, looking lifeless at the ceiling of the new world, shocked, and disturbed by the cruel and disgusting nature of the race that he was being born into as he was whipped back and forth between careless hands and dropped on a plate. Quicker than the small, fighting male could adapt to the environmental cacophony of electronic turmoil, slivers of metal were shoved into his body. It did not matter that it hurt. It did not matter that this child was fresh from the dark, wetness that had hugged him into existence. Similar needles that had been poked at Inosa, only threatening of different toxic liquids, were stabbed and bayoneted into the raw skin of the male. Quickly the lights and sounds that bounced off the walls hundreds of times before finally resting in silence – only to be replaced by another set of boisterous noises – began to dissipate. Each swirling vortex of mystery that hung in the small boy's vision blurred, and fell into blackness. Five hours of digging, cutting, cleaving and carving into the innocent and undeserving flesh entailed, the first of numerous sessions, leaving the child to look like something much more machine than human. Metal needles porcupined from all over the suckling's body. Two in each feet, two more in each leg. Three in each arm. Plastic dug through the body, feeding what it could in the form of crude and busily placed tubes. The infant's eyes looked glazed over, not moving, not crying, not even observing the cruel world that it had been brought into without a second opinion. However the woman's day was not over. Inosa was wheeled back into another room, expecting to find the loving, albeit gentle, embrace of her loved one – only to find the corner that he had pushed himself into to be empty. He had gone, overwhelmed by what he had seen, and unable to push enough affection from his persona to override his own selfishness. What was more, the quickly spoken words of the pale faced, and colorless doctors revealed another thought-to-be truth. The cyst that had formed was absolutely the sign of permanent poisoning, which meant that the woman would have to be force fed lessons on how to keep her suffering baby boy alive until he choked on his own body's mucus, and fell dead. Days passed, weeks passed. Each day the caring and concerned mother would bore through the shield of paper work and needless questions to see the boy, confined once again in a damaging ambiance. Each time she would watch as other loving parents came in to see their own children within the problematic room. Some children were small, disfigured, or covered in needles just as Inosa's was. It did not matter the cause of being placed in the room – each visit only ended in tears and the same two questions to be asked to whatever was listening anywhere: “why me?” and “why my baby?”
However, this is the story of a miracle. Miracle, noun; an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause. Some call the life cycle itself a miracle, others doubt it and claim to blame it only on science and facts. Days later, another test was done. The boy's body had disposed of the poisonous threat, and in fact, had returned itself to a healthy state. It was on that day that the caring mother, a woman who had created signs to keep those ugly noises and people away from her baby while he tried to rest and heal, and a woman that had shared unconditional motivation to come out on top and not allow the sick tendencies that life sometimes had to emerge victorious in this battle, was able to walk free, holding her battle prize in her hands. This is the story of Inosa. This is the story of a miracle. This is the story of a boy that grew up healthy and strong despite the odds, and remains that way today. This is the story of a boy named Yoshihiro.
The day was a beautiful one. Sun shown over the mountains in the distance. The mist was no longer casting its shadow on the land. They had made it out. Three months had passed since their escape from the mist, and their constant moving had begun. Each two weeks, Yoshi was forced to drag along only what he thought was the most precious, and most of that was even left behind in the end. Only the cat stuffed animal that he had grabbed from his original house stayed, along with the v necked shirt that he had worn all of his life on and off. That same v necked shirt was swinging on his body now, however, a small pair of young and small boxers was now also present on the boy. Despite their small size, they were too big for him, and acted as a constant need to pull up something before bending over. If he was unable to remember to do so, his mother would always remind him, beginning to shape him into a capable individual. Yoshi almost loved the game of 'would she or would she not notice' too much to really listen, often bending over, pretending to pick up something like a sea shell only to see if she would catch the fact that his boxers had all but fallen off, and the shirt also lifted. A small, loving slap on the butt caused Yoshi to squeal and jump up in expecting surprise, laughing, and giggling with his mother. She was aware of the game that he had created, and was also fond of it. But Inosa's eyes were not ever happy anymore. Although she made them look as happy as they could look, they never compared to what they used to be. She was worried, extended, and stretched thin. As if always having to multitask at a vital level, she was tired, strained, and without the ability to completely relax. Sometimes, when Yoshi would tell her a story, he would notice her looking off into the distance, only to call her attention back. Tears had come down his own cheeks before as he started to be able to see the half of his mother that was brutally torn out and left back at the burning house, with Shizu – her love. She never told the story about the man that had begun to choose the clan over his lover.
But the day was beautiful none the less, and the shore brushed up with the tide, leaving all kinds of special and fun rocks, shells, and plants. Yoshi would scurry off and play throughout the entire day, studying everything, and learning about them through observation. He was the kind of boy that would be able to observe any kind of little creature, and learn their ways to the point that he would be able to come close to them, knowing what would scare them, and what made them them. Inosa also went through a slight change in her days, picking up her shinobi training once more. Yoshi would spend hours watching his dedicated mother throw the ninja tools, sharpen the ninja tools, and throw them again. Once he had wanted to try when she was not around, and tried to mimic the way that he had seen her doing it, flipping the kunai knife around and around with the loop on the end until she clamped with her fingers, and threw it suddenly. However the kunai knife had only slipped from his fingers on the first twirl and fell onto his leg, cutting it slightly. He never told his mother about this occasion, however, and blamed the cut on falling when climbing a rock. When asked where the rock was, he lied of its location quickly, and luckily found a rock that would uphold the lie should she ever ask about it again. She didn't.
What was more, as time started to go by, Inosa started referring shinobi techniques to Yoshi. She told him that the more advanced jutsu would come later. Yoshi refused to become a shinobi, and said that he did not want to cause others pain ever. Inosa recoiled by saying that you can also help fight for those people you want to protect – but that her teachings were purely for his own self defense, and he would not teach him anything that could be used to hurt. Yoshi picked up the jutsu easily, mastering the bunshin ninjutsu and the henge ninjutsu at the age of just past five years of age. He was instructed to use them both should anything ever happen, and get away from danger at all costs. Despite his resentment to the shinobi world, Yoshi loved using the jutsu, and found it all the more easy to fit in with numerous animals if he could transform into them with the use of a jutsu. Of course this meant coming home completely exhausted on some days, or being found laying on the beach, passed out from too much chakra use for the day.
Each cloud rose and fell in a series of humps and crevices. Each cloud moved slowly, and each cloud look down upon Yoshi, and the devoted mother with a kind smile that warned them to run. No one would ever know, even though Inosa spent much of her time looking up at the clouds and following them.
“Sweety, you run and play. I am going to go back to house and start making dinner, okay?”
“Okay, mommy. Do you wanna make a bet on how many sand dollars I can find on this beach?”
“I have not seen many at all, hun. You'd be hard pressed to find any at all, but I don't think anything is impossible for you. I bet you can find one.”
“One? Only one? I bet at least fifty!”
As Yoshi said that, he waved his hands in a giant arc above his head, as if carrying thousands of his favorite sand dollars. The motion ended in Inosa poking Yoshi in the tummy, and sending him into a eruption of small little giggles that sent him stumbling backwards. As he did so, his little boxers fell from beneath the shirt, and the giggles instantly stopped. Looking down at the boxers, and then back up at his mother to see if he noticed, he offered a guilty smile when he saw that she had seen, of course. However, after the moment of awkward silence, Yoshi erupted into another trill of laughter as he pulled up his boxers, polka-dotted with blue dots on lighter blue fabric.
“Okay, then don't let me down!”
She said, offering a high five. It was instantly returned, and she off put a smile that was contagious. After a small hug, they stood back and looked at each other, as if counting to ten before they would move in their heads. The challenge was on.
“I never will, mommy!”
Go!
Grabbing the kitty toy from his mother's arms, Yoshi ran further in towards the water while Inosa retreated to the house. Yoshi searched the beach for the sand dollars, but found none. It was not until about an hour and half later that he found a whopping six sand dollars, and three extras that were broken in certain places. He knew that they may not count, but he still brought them. Walking back from the beach, the sun had started to go back down behind the trees that looked like unshaven hair on the rising mountains. Skipping up the small path that led to house, Yoshi spoke to himself, and kitty, attempting to have the kitty hold the sand dollars that were broken, not worried if they fell since they had cracks already. Excited that he beat his mother's bet, and completely forgetting and not caring that he had not caught fifty of the valuable rock like things, Yoshi continued to skip until he could see the house. Then it happened.
Boom!
The shingles atop the house lifted and exploded, burning and flying towards the small blonde boy. Yoshi's eyes widened, and he jerked backwards in order to avoid the debris as they fell from the sky near him. Although small, they were still scary. Yoshi let a haphazard shout from his mouth, screaming his mother's name. Standing motionless, and terrified that he was going to have to see something that he did not want to see again, Yoshi dropped all of the sand dollars aside from his favorite one that remained in his hand, his kitty toy in the other hand. Picking up his pace, he started to run towards the house, parts still flaming from the explosive reaction. When Yoshi got to the door, he noticed that it was open slightly. Kicking the it the rest of the way open with his butt, and pushing inwards, he looked onto the situation. There, in the center of the room, was something so horrible that he could not bare it. Instantly tears fell from his eyes as he started into the eyes of his father and his mother at the same time. Each one was different. One set was cruel, and the other was panicked. Shizu held his mother, one arm wrapped around her waist, holding her arms there as well. The other held a sharpened knife to her throat. Her eyes looked huge, and frightened – but not for herself – for Yoshi's life.
“Mommy!? D-daddy? W-w-what... what is...?”
Before he could finish the sentence, Inosa started to speak, her voice shaky, and more sad than he had ever heard it before. As if she was saying something for the last time, and to someone for the last time, she whispered “Yoshi, use what I taught you, and get away from here. Run, my little prince! I lo-”
But she would never be able to finish the sentence. In one swift motion her body was kicked forward, causing her back to arch forwards unnaturally, before the cruel man threw the knife, causing it to slice into her back, deep. The cutting noise was followed by three more, and then another. Falling to her face, and letting a shrill scream come from her lips, Inosa landed on the wood, bouncing before coming to a halt. Her back was covered in blood, and burnt. Her dress was ripped down the back, and all of the knives stuck out at unnatural angles. Yoshi also let out a sudden scream and ran in to catch his falling mother but failed to get there in time. Turning to face his dad, fluctuating emotions rumbling from within, Yoshi dropped the kitty and sand dollar next to his mother's head. Her moans meant that she was still alive, her voice cracking as she tried to push herself up. Instantly Shizu burst into a cloud of smoke that fell to the floor as if weighted.
Yoshi did not waste any time trying to find him, and turned back to his mother, grabbing the knives from her back, and pulling them out slowly before flipping her over onto his lap. Holding his dying mother, they locked eyes. Yoshi's full of tears. Each looked at each other over shaky breaths, Inosa admiring Yoshi, and Yoshi loving his Inosa. Reaching up to brush Yoshi's hair from his face, Inosa spoke. Her voice sounded dry, and damaged. Her breath smelled of something odd that he had never smelled before.
“Mommy! What are you doing!? Get up! Mommy!”
“Yoshi, my little prince, I am not getting back up this ti-”
“Mommy! I... I... I... I found the sand dollars. I found nine of them! I... I told you!”
“I never doubted that you would, Yoshi. Anything is possible for you. Anything. You understand that?”
“Y-yeah. Mommy... stop bleeding. Please mommy. Get back up! Please!”
Tears boiled out of his eyes, and started falling in huge droplets across his mother's chest. Blocked vision caused images to appear in swirls. Inosa's tears finally came, staring at Yoshi counting her last breaths and trying to make them last as long as they each could. It was a cruel world, and it would only get more and more cruel.
“Yoshi, sweety, you have listen to me okay?”
“Y-y-yes, mommy! Anything you say!”
“I am sorry that you had to see this. I wanted to live with you, and watch you grow up. I wanted that more than anything. I am so sorry that I have failed you. Can you forgive me?”
“Mommy! You didn't fail me! I love you mommy! Please stop bleeding! W-we we can run away again, and find a more hidden place! Mo-”
A cough of blood caused the red liquid to splatter down Inosa's face, and start to drip down by her collar bones. Her face looked as though she were in pain, the poison drilling through her system, planted on the first knife.
“You listen to me, Yoshi. I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now, and I am so sorry for that. Live your life. Find someone that you can love, like in the stories. Not all stories end like this. Most don't. Write your story as you want to write it, and find someone special that can love, accept, and appreciate that story without judgment, understand? Finding that person is the most important thing you can ever do, and it is much more fulfilling than anything else you could ever hope of doing. I trust you, Yoshi. I love you, and I know that you will become the best individual that you can be. Just... When you find that person, you'll know why I told you too. Go... and... f-find... h-happiness... my little... p-prince...”
Looking down at his mother, her eyes rolled back, and her grip on Yoshi's tiny hand loosened. Yoshi's grip tightened, and he started to shake without control. Everything swelled up inside of his throat. He was unable to think straight, unable to focus, unable to hear what she said. Her words slid into his soul, where it listened, separate from his body. Grabbing the sand dollar, and the cat stuffed animal, Yoshi pushed them into his mothers arms, each tear coming from his eye bigger than the last. Wrapping her arms around the kitten toy, Yoshi kissed his mother on the cheek, and then the forehead. Each sob became more and more destructive to body, and pulled him around. Mouth bent with a sad frown, clenching his teeth and trying to keep back the tears Yoshi sat looking at his mother.
"H-here. Now you'll never be alone, mommy. H-here. This is... this is to... this is here. J-just this is here."
Each passing breath left him more frantic than before. His body rocking back and forth, her motionless body still resting in the poor boy's lap. Blood spilled from her mouth, and from her back. A small pool of the blood lay in waste around her. Yoshi's words became louder, and more desperate.
"Mommy! Please wake up now mommy! Mom! This... this... this isn't funny mom! Please... PLEASE MOMMY! I CAN'T LIVE BY MYSELF! YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO COOK, MOM! THIS ISN'T FAIR! THIS IS NOT FAIR MOMMY! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS! YOU JUST CAN'T! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Ending his yelling with a horrifying scream, Yoshi jerked back and picked up one of the kunai knives, grabbing it how his mother used to grab it before throwing it, and tossing it with all of his might into the wall opposite him. The burnt wood cracked under the massive power of the throw. Sniffing, and wiping his eyes with his arm, Yoshi grabbed the other knife and started carving in the ground around. Hours later was a picture of his mother and father carved into what looked like a bed. Each lay on each side of the bed, and Yoshi collapsed in the middle, his tears filling the grooves that were carved for Inosa's eyes, and the blood from her body filling the rest of the grooves, allowing the outline of the couple to be made permanent in the blood. Smearing it across the floor, Yoshi fell asleep, passing out from sheer exhaustion. His mind told him that if he went to sleep, he would wake up in the real world, and this nightmare would end.
Upon awakening, that night, Yoshi could barely open his swollen eyes. His finger tips were cut open and raw from slipping with the knife, and large splinters from the drawing. His entire body was covered in the charcoal and soot of the house. His hair hung low, dirty, and blackened. His eyes were red, pupils dilated. His arms were tired, and sore. His legs were cut, and his feet had splinters in them. The nightmare had not ended. In fact, it had only gotten worse. Anger consumed the child, not wanting to look back behind him at his mother's corpse, cold, and beginning to become stiff. Instead, Yoshi took hold of the odd knife that was used to kill and poison his mother. Forcing himself to look at his mother, Yoshi took the leather cord that tied the dress up her back, and strung it into a small belt. Sticking the knife into the belt, his long, filthy v necked shirt looking like a small tunic, Yoshi grabbed the other two kunai as well, holding one in each hand. Facing his mother once more, Yoshi spoke. His innocence was gone. Even though he was still within the frame of the small five year old, everything about him had changed. Vengeance, sadness, anger, and filthy thirst for blood had carved itself into him. His eyes already looked more and more slender and like his father's. His lips were pressed together, and his teeth were clenched.
Personality:
- Spoiler:
- There are a few words that define the Yoshi quite accurately. he is selfish, violent and short tempered. A terrifying combination. The man is constantly on the lookout for himself. Almost anytime he does anything, it will likely have some ties to a benefit for himself, and he almost never does anything for free. Yoshi doesn't particularly care for the well being of others, though he will certainly help someone if he feels that they’re better to him alive than dead. Often he will actually spare his opponent’s lives, so that they can grow in strength and challenge him again.
Speaking of which, let’s talk a bit about violence. If your problems aren’t being solved by it then you’re clearly not using enough of it. That alone sums up his stance on violence. He is incredibly violent when enraged and he is VERY easily enraged. His violent personality, coupled with this trait, has meant that many unfortunate people have met a most unpleasant end due to fairly minor transgressions against him. He loves inflicting violence on others, and takes any violence done to him as a challenge. He revels in combat, and, as mentioned above, often takes it upon himself to spare the life of his opponent for the opportunity to fight them again, particularly if they should prove some degree of potential. Weak foes however are often dispatched without a second thought.
Yoshi is well known for having an extremely short temper, which complements his violent personality. Although he is normally in a state of either perpetual amusement or boredom with what goes on around him, the smallest of things can trigger his temper, such as someone bumping into him without apologizing. At this, he can fly into a rage. If hell hath no fury like a woman scored, then scorned women ought to flee in terror from an angered Yoshi. If enraged, he typically doesn’t use any tactical planning or the like. He simply becomes a force of wanton destruction, not caring if what he destroys is ally or enemy. Everything dies. It’s a short trigger, and when it’s pulled, everyone dies. Thinking of taking advantage of this rage can be foolhardy, as one may attempt an attack, only to be hit by a far more devastating blow from Yoshi , who is no longer caring about defense.
Yoshi has a very sadistic sense of humor. He finds death, blood and violence absolutely hysterical, even if he’s on the receiving end of it. Get angry at him and cut off his ear? Hilarious (by the way, start running, you’re about to die). Impale him through the belly? Hysterical (Again, start running, he’s going to be on you in ten seconds or less). Have him smash your face through solid concrete? Well, now you’re on your way to comedic gold. Yoshi can’t understand when others don’t get his sense of humor.
Amazingly, despite all of these tendencies he is a social character. Because he gets bored easily, he is constantly seeking the company of others to alleviate that boredom. Often times he will refrain from hitting people when socializing with them so that he won’t return to that state of boredom. His life really seems to always be about keeping himself from being bored, and entertained. So if someone is able to keep Yoshi entertained for awhile, then they’re more than worth keeping alive, in Yoshi’s mind.
However, he should never be taken as simple. While certainly straight-forward and looking to the easiest solution, Yoshi is fully capable of planning things out, and can be quite manipulative. He is aware he comes off as simple and brash to others. This is because he wants to come off that way, and so he makes use of this at times, allowing him to manipulate those around him without them suspecting. He will often go far to propagate his image as a simple minded, fight-hungering psychopath because it means others are much more likely to underestimate him. That said, it doesn’t mean he isn’t a violent psychopath, because he is. But there’s a fine line between a rampaging violent psychopath, and a calculating one, and Yoshi is undoubtedly the latter.
Yoshi's fighting style is seemingly straight-forward as it simply requires hand-to-hand combat. However, this is merely the surface of his true style as there are many different sub-forms and techniques/styles within it. Over the years, he has developed a fighting style that is derived from Shaolin martial arts and he then tweaked it to accommodate his abilities and such. Such styles include special footwork and movement patterns while at the same time incorporating a very potent, or powerful, offense as well as defense. In terms of offense, Yoshi is very...forward in his overall fighting style as he just goes straight into hand-to-hand combat and he does use techniques that may be considered hidden or secretive, which may perhaps be a flaw but it in fact is not. The reason why it is not is due to the fact that, for most beings, one would be on the look-out for techniques that could possibly be hidden from the line of sight. As was said sentences earlier, he is very straight-forward when it comes to fighting, but it is really a bit more complex than what it seems. his footwork for instance is very different, as he changes his "rhythm" every time his opponent stops to breathe, keeping his opponent constantly on their toes. The "rhythms" he utilizes depends upon his opponent, as every being is different from one to the next, though these "rhythms" even are uneven and sporadic. This allows him to keep his opponent from getting a lock on his fighting patterns, which he has none but he makes it seem like there are patterns in order to fool his opponents.
In terms of defense, he is the exact same way as offense. In the same way, his defensive capabilities seem very straight-forward and easy to notice but it is actually a bit more complex than what the eyes can see. When defending from a distance, Yoshi focuses on his footwork and body weight to maneuver himself around ninjutsu and, long-range techniques. By using his weight, he adds momentum to his movements, causing him to move slightly faster, while at the same time using his footwork to keep control and grace over his movements. When defending in arms-reach combat, his defensive techniques become circular in natural movement and he uses the dead weight of his arms to push away all attacks that come his way. These circular movements are very broad and they are easy to notice if only one block is made but if he is blocking multiple attacks, such movements become for more fluid and quick causing an opponent's vision to be confused by the circular, defensive movements and creating an opening for Yoshi to attack back.
- Spoiler:
- Yoshi began to slow his speed as he neared the center of the small city. His journey-- their journey here had become a competition, a race between two stubborn and twisted Shinobi. Yoshi knew she would be determined to best him, as he had clearly bested her in the last meeting, but she still had the disadvantage of knowing nothing about his abilities, which made him faster than all but a select few within the Shinobi world. He stopped in front of a small door way, several seconds before she had, causing a wide smirk to grow on his face, "A slow reaper.." he said just quiet enough for her to not be able to make out the words. With a chuckle, he cast his eyes up at the sign, which in big courier letters read 'Sunday's' causing him to chuckle as he pushed his way through the door. 'First 'Thursday's now Sunday's...what a coincidence...'
"Black black heart why would you offer more"
The quiet music made it's way to Yoshi's ears as he stepped through the door, taking in a deep breath the cool outside mixing with the faint smell off food, cigarette smoke and alcohol as he took in the air. A very large and menacing bouncer took a step towards him as he walked through the door, the emerald haired woman following behind. "Excuse me sir, you cant come in here this is a private baGWerr--" in mid sentence the very large bouncer found the airway of his throat constricted, his face turning read and his hands flailing about as he tried to breath. "Im sorry? What was that?", Yoshi looked almost bloodthirsty as he slowly lifted the seven foot bouncer by his throat with one arm, his muscle surging with a small amount of Ki-induced strength. The bouncer let out a gurgled noise in reply his hands weakly trying to break Yoshi's grip.
"I'm on fire I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens"
All eyes were on the confrontation, patrons looking with a mixture of confusion and fear whilst most of the employees stood frozen on the spot, clearly not sure how to react. The slowly, blue turning bouncer was easily the largest person within the bar, taller even than Yoshi who was surely not a short man. "As I begin to lose my grip, on these realities your sending" the music was the only noise that filled the bar for a few short seconds; other than the noises coming from the slowly dying bouncer. "I believe what you meant to say...", the Missing Ninja spoke after a second of silence, "was 'Yes, Sir you and your companion are welcome here...' " Yoshi noted the bartender slowly reaching under the counter presumably for a weapon, "And then continue on to say that we can have a quiet table in the corner and all of our food and drinks will be on the house..yes?" He flashed a kind smile, but given the bloodthirsty look on his face, the smile only managed to inspire more fear amongst the populous of the bar.
"Back black heart why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy"
The chorus of the song came in as Yoshi began to speak again, "That is indeed what you meant to say, yes?", Yoshi pretended to have all his attention focused on the bouncer, but the movements and subsequent hiding of a weapon by the bartender had not escaped his notice. His hand clenched around the Bouncer's throat a bit tighter to emphasize what he wanted, causing the man to turn a deeper shade of blue, before whimpering and giving a small nod. During Yoshi's exchange, the bartender had managed to draw several kunai and hide them in a subtle manner, but of course Yoshi noticed, always in tune with his surroundings.
All your sex and your diamonds...
The song had just ended as Yoshi suddenly spun and released his grip, sending the large bouncer over the bar and into the bartender, just as he was about to throw the weapons. The two men collided together and with a thunderous roar, flew into the stacks of glasses behind them. The clatter was such that the other patrons and employees of the bar jumped in sudden fright at the noise before turning their stares back to the two Missing Shinobi.
After throwing the man Yoshi brushed his hands down his black suit to smooth it out, acting nonchalantly as if this was an everyday occurrence. After satisfied with the lack of wrinkles, he turned his attention to those within the bar, flashing them a kind and polite smile. "I do apologize for the interruption and subsequent chaos" his smile was kind and warm, yet eerily fear inspiring as he spoke, "Please please, don't mind us from this point on and please get back to your evenings." he spoke once more before turning his attention to Satsuriku, "Once again, I do apologize for the disruption."
As Yoshi turned himself to face his companion, he flashed her a smirk. "Now what was I going to say....", he paused for a minute, brushing his blonde hair back from his face slightly, "Ah yes, here we are.." he grinned, "Food, drinks and good company, all at my expense." Yoshi couldnt help but chuckle, as if he was paying, he didnt pay for anything if he didnt have to; and he was sure after the altercation with the bouncer, he had inspired enough fear that he didnt need to.
A slower song, calmer than before, began playing as Yoshi began to speak again. "After you Miss" he said politely, waving his hand towards a corner table and bowing slightly as he spoke to the green haired woman. The soft, humming jazz type music faintly permeated the bar as he followed his companion to the table, casting one of the waitresses, the curvy blonde type, a nod to get her attention and bring her over to the table. He couldnt help but gain sadistic amusement as she trembled and slowly stepped towards them, her body shaking slightly from a mix of fear and an adrenaline.
"Was this all..really necessary..." came the first voice whispering with contempt in his mind. This complaint only made Yoshi's smirk grow wider as he whispered a response, his words barely perceivable by those closest to him "Not even the very wise can see where all roads end...but believe me, I very rarely do anything without purpose.." Then in one swift step he stepped forward, standing evenly beside Satsuriku, he smirked a bit and cast her a sideways glance with a grin, "What a.....quaint little place...", he cast his gaze around the small bar again as he walked, nearing the corner table "I think this will do nicely for our meeting... dont you?"
'At the very least...this will be interesting'
