Individual
Character's full name:Minashigo(last), Raijin(First)
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Thunder God Raijin, The Osaka Slayer, Rai.
Gender: Male
Age:28
Date of Birth: 4/16
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Osaka, Japan
Nationality: Japanese
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: Japanese
Appearance
Hair color and style: Black, Usually kept just long enough to comb back a bit.
Skin Tone: Deep tan.
Eye Color: Black
Height: 6'1
Build: Ripped. The body of a person who loves to fight, and thus keeps himself in tip top shape for it.
Visible Magical Corruption: During times of his most intense casting, his tattooes move about his skin, growling, screaming, battling amongst each other, only to return to their normal forms when things calm down.
Not visible, but he tends damage any personal electronics he has over time due to a slightly elevated level of static electricity around him. He constantly has to get new phones because of this.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Plenty of Scars from plenty of scraps. What stands out more than those, however, are his tattoos. Two full shoulder blade/shoulder arm sleeves, one depicting Raijin, the other Fujin, two japanese deities locked in battle with one another. On his chest, a coiled serpentile dragon wreathed in lightning. The rest of his body is also well populated with tatoos, ranging from small gang symbols, to tally marks on his left hand palm, and tally marks on his hip. The hand for how many he's killed, the hip for how many he's bedded.
Other features: n/a
Everyday clothing style:
Uniform: At work, he wears white slacks and a white blazer with a red button up shirt that is never buttoned. Nice, leather dress shoes that he takes off for battle. No socks. Socks are for the weak.
Sleepwear: A sheathed sword and nothing else.
Miscellaneous clothing: When lounging he does so in a Yukata and wrap pants, arm out of one sleeve most often.
Character
Personality: Raijin is a man of extremes. He tends to be either docile or intense, nothing in between. When he is resting, he is docile, and mostly quiet. His idea of a good time is to be surrounded by an atmosphere of people having a good time, and just soaking it in. As such, when he is disturbed from his rest, he gets irritated easily.
When not in rest, he tends to be on the loud, and volatile side. In this way he is the perfect picture of a typical Yakuza crimelord. He demands respect, he doesn't like being crossed, and he responds to others breaking his self imposed rules quickly, and violently.
He bears an intense dislike for authority, specifically for anyone trying to lord over him. As such, he also doesn't care for social norms. Don't tell him not to smoke inside, don't tell him to keep it down if his loud, booming voice is getting on your nerves, don't. Ever. Touch. His. Sword.
These are all punishable offenses.
That being said, he doesn't hold a grudge in the least. It's a very simple transaction. You get on his bad side, he metes out the punishment for your trangression, he is fine with you until you do it again.
Hobbies/ Interests:He is a foodie, and a drinkie. Trying new and interesting liquors and delicacies is one of his favorite passtimes. Fighting. Dueling. Love novels(What? What are you looking at? It's a book. Look at me again, I dare you). Conquest, in battle, and in bed.
Job or part time job and description: Hired Mercenary/ Full time Cultist.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Damage to his left arm that might make it so he cannot hold a sword. Getting older, less sharp, slower.
Special talents: Swordplay. Martial arts. Fluent in English and Japanese. Japanese Calligraphy. Taiko drumming.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Neutral. He does what he pleases, not for the sake of evil, or good, but because it's what he wants to do. He tends to dislike authority, but derives no pleasure from harming the defenseless, or watching others do so.
Feelings toward Mutants: They excite him. The average joe is not a good opponent. Every mutant, however, is a potential for an excellent duel to the death. Another tally on the hand.
Feelings toward Humans: Mostly boring, unless they are exceptionally skilled. Otherwise, it depends on the individual.
Feelings toward Adapteds: Killjoys. He'd much rather fight without one by his side, because when they are around, he's pretty much fighting a human.
Magic
Arcana Praeditus: Metation
Arcana Initium: Evocation.
Preferred Foci: A Samurai Sword, said to be made by Muramasa himself. It is his prized possession, along with its shorter counterpart.
Magical Theme: Sword Mage, Focused on Lightning and Thunder. His magical focus is on augmenting his abilities and protecting himself with magical armor that harbors electrical effects.
Snap Spell: Lightning Ward; The user summons a floating shield that crackles with electrical energy. When struck, or used to strike a target, the energy discharges, causing harm to the attacker.
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: He is very much a man in his prime who engages in regular intense workouts.
Fighting Style: He mainly focuses on Kenjutsu, specifically the two sword style Niten Ichi-ryū, but is very much competent with hand to hand combat, using a Karate based MMA style. Preferably, though, he fights with terrifying skill with a sword.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: He will cut you; he is a clever, quick, and dangerous opponent at close range, though he doesn't have many answers against opponents at long range.
History Of Your Character
Born an Orphan to a transient mother who died in childbirth, he was placed in the Japanese foster system, and landed in some pretty terrible housing situations. It wasn't long before he grew to an age in which he felt like he could fend for himself better, and was out on the streets.
It was a dangerous way to live, and some of his oldest scars reflect that well; One day when he was being beaten by a shop owner who had caught him stealing food, a man stepped in to pay for the food, and took him in. That man was Shinobu Tsukasa, head of the Yamaguchi-Gumi, a Yakuza Crime Syndicate. To Raijin he was a kind man, and soon, a father figure.
Before Long, he was a part of the family, and at 16 he killed his first man in a battle over turf. Having been a terrible aim with a pistol(As he still is to this day), he'd opted to use one of his father's swords, stolen from his collection. Yelling at the top of his lungs he ran a notorious gunman through, and earned the name he goes by today; witnesses said he screamed like thunder, and stuck with the ferocity of a god scorned.
It was also at that moment that he fell in love with the rush of fighting another opponent to the death. He started to train his mind and body to do just that, and when his adopted father passed away, rather than take up the mantle of syndicate leader, he opted to roam the world and work as a mercenary, seeking that same rush.
At 20, he fought his first mutant. He has never looked back since. That is, until he fought a man who wasn't a mutant... who could still fling fire from his fingertips. After killing him, Raijin found himself pouring through the strange book he kept with him... A spell book. Evidence of something more supernatural than he had ever known; proof of the potential for higher plateaus than the apex he'd thought he stood on as a fighter.
He needed to know more, so he spent many of his remaining resources locating the cult the man had belonged to, traveling to their base of operations, and knocking on the front door.
Before long, he proved himself capable and devoted enough to he given a drink from the well.
After drinking, he turned, took three steps, and collapsed, passing out for three days straight. When he awoke, his sword thrummed with a quiet energy, and his body crackled with the faint buzz of electricity.
Roleplay
What’s your OOC alias?:Puck
Where did you learn about this site?: Google back in 2009
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Saph, Roach/Doc, L, Xavier, Ash, Simon, Tash
Sample RP:
"Excuse me sir, there's no smoking in here."
He took a long drag from his cigarette, before leaning back to stare lazily at the man who had just politely reminded him of the rule he knew. A waiter. New, from the looks of it. Also, from the fact that he didn't know that rule had a special caveat. Namely, that there was one exception to the rule in this joint.
"Ehhhhhhhh?" As he made the long, drawn out questioning noise, the smoke escaped his mouth and drifted toward the waiter. "You new here?"
The younger man waved the smoke from his face for a second before looking mad enough to start to open his mouth in response before a more familiar employee ran in out of nowhere and grabbed him by the elbow, steering him away while apologizing profusely. He didn't need to listen to what they were saying to know the gist of the conversation.
"Jesus man, do you have a death wish?"
"No... Why?"
"That guy is Yakuza! Let him smoke his damn cigarette!"
Sometimes, looking dangerous had its perks. He waved for another drink, pulling his heavily tattooed arm from his robes to do so. Come to think of it, that interaction had him a little irritated. Maybe a change of scenery was for the best? There was that bar with the nice cult ladies. Hexes and hos? No, they didn't let him smoke there... Well, not in the bar anyway. Some dive, then. Somewhere he could start a fight. There was that cowboy bar. Yeah. He hated that place. He was going there.
Sighing, and pulling out a roll of cash, he produced a Benjamin, tossed it on the table, ashed out his cigarette onto the counter, and walked out. He was going to go punch some cowboys.
