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Hayato

The Supreme Douchecanoe

0 · 394 views · located in Ingloriously Normal Japan, 20XX

a character in “Bad Hands”, as played by Northgaze

Description

WildDogs Divine Killer Hayato, Hell’s Guardian



ImageImage


BASICS
Name: Hayato Dai (Falcon, God)
Age: 62
Race: Oni
Faction: WildDogs
Role: Kamikaze/ Doubles as a bodyguard for the Beta


APPEARANCE

Complexion: Human Guise: Hayato’s face is a dark brown color from his frequent time spent outside, his hands have many freckles across them. When angered his face turns a bright red and several blood vessels in his neck will throb. Natural Form: Normally his entire body is a bright red color, but it can change to a more rusty red when he has a rare moment of calm.

Body Type: Human Guise: Hayato has large broad shoulders, a barrel chest, muscular arms, callused hands, and long sturdy legs. Natural Form: Hayato’s human form looks like a sprinter compared to his true form. Covered in muscles he can kill a human with a single swing. His large horns can be an impediment, since his head and neck are already so large. Hayato has long claws at the end of each finger and toe.

Height and Weight: Human Guise: Standing an intimidating 6’2” and 195lbs. Natural Form: At least 7ft tall at the head. Hayato will only grow larger during his 500 year lifespan. Hayato has never been officially weighed, but for safety he always rides an elevator alone.

Distinguishing marks: Human Guise: A scar reaching from behind his left ear to the top of his collar bone. The mon of his faction is tattooed on the back of his neck.

Apparent Temperament: Hayato is easily frustrated by complicated tasks and often displays his frustration by smashing some hapless object/person nearby. Having a notoriously short temper he is more likely to punch someone than settle the argument verbally. Despite his brash attitude he is extremely loyal to his faction and dares anyone to say disparaging remarks about it.

Hair and eyes: Human Guise: His hair is jet black, cut half an inch long and spiked slightly. Thin streaks of red color can be seen along the sides of his head. His eyes are an unassuming brown color, unless he pops a blood vessel. Natural Form: Thick coarse hair covers his head and reaches down to his shoulders. Small eyes the color of blood sits back in his face, well protected by thick bone around the eyes.

Facial features: Human Guise: Hayato has a strong jaw, broad forehead, small nose, solid cheek bones, and an unusually large mouth. Natural Form: Two black horns sprout on either side of his forehead and curve back halfway across his head. Hayato’s canines are a good inch and a half in length. His nose is flat to his face and his eyes are set back in his skull. Heavy eyebrows further protect his small eyes. His ears are rather long and deer like. Located on either side of his head the tips are just above the top of his head and he can move them independently of one another.

Wardrobe: Human Guise: Almost always seen wearing a long overcoat or cloak overtop a simple outfit like, t-shirt with jeans. Sometimes he wears a hat all depending on the situation. Tennis shoes are his footwear of choice. Natural Form: Hayato would happily wear just a loincloth and belt if allowed to do so. However, his height already making him unique he does not need the added effect of his skin, horns, and fangs. So he grudgingly wears a hooded cloak with large sleeves while in public.


PERSONALITY

Hayato throws caution to the wind every chance he gets. There are few creatures that can match an Oni’s brute strength and Hayato has been fortunate to have never met one. It has made him arrogant and reckless on more than one occasion. Hayato will think nothing of killing the old, young, hapless, or female when ordered to do so. The nasty and unsavory tasks have always fallen to undiscriminating Oni. A killing machine is a description that he boasts about. His strength and size does hinder him, it is very difficult for him to sneak about. Hayato consistently causes quite the scene if sent on a mission. His favored weapon often wrecks more havoc than intended. Collateral is something the WildDogs accept will happen when he is sent to take care of someone/thing. He is unyieldingly loyal to his faction, this loyalty is often the reason he curbs his violent tendencies.

Speech: Hayato has only two tones of voice that he uses with any frequency, shouting or mumbling. Lacking in intelligence, his interactions with others are often littered with curse words when he cannot remember what he was going to say or is merely impatient. Hayato rarely thinks before he speaks, simply shouting out his opinion whenever is convenient for him. If forced to actually speak politely he will become very sulky and sit in a corner. When frustrated he will construct entire sentences just out of swear words.

Pet Peeves: Small Puzzles, debating, being outsmarted.

Favorite color: Red, crimson being his favorite shade. He does like the color gold, but often only when applied to the actual metal.

EQUIPMENT
Specialty: Douchecanoeing….Kidding! Swinging his kanabo, cracking heads.
Fighting Style: Straight head-on frenzied attack, perhaps a pause to use his kanabo a bit.
Preferred Weaponry: Kanabo, big guns, horns, claws, wicked knives.
Weaknesses: His lack of intelligence, makes him easy to outsmart and trap. His poor eyesight can be exploited at night and he cannot see long distances very well. Being in small spaces terrifies him and he is severely limited in his attack abilities.
Inventory: Kanabo, at least two handguns, two 7 inch knives, a pouch of leaves, cellphone.
Minor Ability: Extremely tough skin and dense bones. climbing walls well (by making footholds first of course using his claws)
Additional Guise: Sometimes he wears a hat. (so ninja is he)


LIFE
Hobbies: Fighting, Intimidating, human women,
Likes:
  • Guns
  • Messing shit up
  • Fellow Mountain Spirits
  • Meat

Dislikes:
  • Tofu
  • Negotiating
  • Fire
  • Being challenged

Fears: Small spaces, cats, lettuce, doctors.

Agenda: Hayato was just a thug with a club. Whacking indiscriminately, it was not until joining the WildDogs that he became a true force. His main goal is to be the top Enforcer in the faction. He does have qualms about how operations are being managed, though he keeps it to himself for the most part.

Where they hail from: The mountainous regions of North Japan.

Relations:
  • Father, location unknown.
  • Mother, currently lives in the mountains of Japan.
  • Brother, deceased.
  • He also has several lady friends that he likes visiting.

Notable Experiences:

Hayato was a terror the moment he was born. His parents being brown Oni, a gentle variety did not know what to do with the little tyrant. Tantrums were a frequent occurrence, by the time he was ten he had killed an apex predator with his bare hands. His loincloth is made from the fur of it. The forest dwelling Oni had not seen or birthed a red in many generations. The elders called it a sign of doom and decided that Hayato must be driven out to prevent the destruction of their home. None of the peaceful brown shaded Oni could understand the reason for Hayato’s outbursts and discontentment.

Being thrust out of his home suddenly was a great shock to the young Oni. He had desperately wanted to belong and be part of the community; his temper had been the true saboteur. At first he was bitter, but as he grew to understand himself and the inherent temperament of red Oni it became clear that he could never have lived a very peaceful life. With this new knowledge he embraced his brutal and harsh proclivities. Hayato quickly fell in with a gang; they were the terror of an entire ward. Time was the enemy for this gang: as the humans grew older, died, and were caught, Hayato was getting bigger and stronger. The petty crimes he was used to were getting to be boring for the juvenile Oni.

By chance one night, Hayato spotted a few yakuza members heading down a dark alley. Unable to resist the opportunity of seeing what real big-bads do, he followed them down the alley. He emerged from the alley a full member of the WildDogs faction. The meanest and most dangerous pack of scum in the whole of Japan.

So begins...

Hayato's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaori Character Portrait: Hayato
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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hayato
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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chiba Tomoe Character Portrait: Isamu Character Portrait: Kaori Character Portrait: Amori Tsubasa Character Portrait: Story Hands [NPC's] Character Portrait: Hayato
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Den-Den Town, Strutting Around, and Would You Look At These Losers


He was stricken with the familiarity of a different sort of gokudo, the sort who sashayed in pink and flaunted superiority before his tattooed brethren, citing lines from Korean soaps in lieu of urgent business. Isamu, per usual, was endlessly amused as he found Tomoe, but also grateful for his company—there was nothing like a bit of well-organized ruckus to get him grasping at nostalgia again, and though he reveled in the bliss of the lights and the sounds and the spectacle as if they were a novelty, as if he could reach out and catch ticker tape like fallen sakura petals, he feared becoming forever trapped in this haze, to be blindsided by this youthful aura. From the kitsune, he knew vignettes of doubt sprouting amongst the clansmen; said loyalty could only hold up for so long 'til the memory started dwindling and indecision took hold. How they wouldn't hesitate to devise a new order if the opportunity permitted. Yet, he looked to the mikoshi for solace. He saw the men united by garment and cause, so relentless in their support and spirit. Such a sight, fundoshi excluded, made him swell with pride.

The godfather lay a hand on his adviser's shoulder, signaling an end to the submissive greeting. The same hand lightly whapped the saiko komon against the back of his head. Good-natured abuse, that was. "C'mon, kiddo, look around you. Can't have you miss what's right in front of us." All in jest, of course: His words, playfully phrased, brimmed with levity, rolled R's, and Kansai-ben; his expression, furrowed at the brow, turned wry. "Knew you wouldn't miss a chance to dress pretty for the boys. The get-up's good, very geisha of you. And speaking of boys..."

What did they have here? A victim of harem seduction, no doubt. Isamu forewent spoken introductions for a curious, stranger-on-the-subway glare and a cocked head, measuring up Tomoe's confidant like he would approach a red ogre with a spiked club. He sniffed, not too subtly, at the dampened scent that wafted from the lad. Drifting from era to era had granted him with many an acquaintance, most inhuman in nature, and after a moment's contemplation, tengu, long of nose and wet of feather, seemed like a reasonably educated guess. He knew these fellas. Carried chips on their shoulders and used 'em for weaponry, if the Terajima brood was anything to go by. The mere thought of them creased his lips into a smile, small fangs revealed, and his inviting look to the man relieved any tension surrounding them—or heightened it. To call the glint in his eye devilish was understating and offensive in its tiredness. Either way, he felt rather silly afterward.

"Pleasure, truly. We're the yakuza, and I see ya've met our pin-up girl," he said, tossing an arm round the adviser's shoulders, voice raised over the cacophony. "Like what we've done with the place?"

Delightful as this was, something was afoot. Prompted by the humming in his pocket, he fished out his smartphone, and after a spot of elderly struggling with the touch screen, he found an alarm—not to mention a message from a friend who, confined to the beaches of Hawaii, insulted him with the utmost sincerity—warning them of events to come. Indeed, the mikoshi's sudden vanishing would cause quite a panic were one not to notice its quickening pace as it appeared to break away from the festival troupes. The yakuza supporting it gave out one last chant before detouring from the common path, and the oyabun, though relieved that plans had not yet gone astray, did not take this as a sign to rest.

He faced the both of them, gestured curtly, and began to pursue the pheonix house: "You two—walk with me."

That shit was an order.




After a reprieve, they moved with haste, and with knowledge of the Alpha driving forward motion, they reigned upon Shirogane like lightning of Raijin. But this was a quiet storm: hidden from view, lowly poised, the juveniles went swiftly with high ardor, trotting in the shadows of their more experienced comrades, going, going, going still. It was remarkable—what had seemed to be a suicide mission had now shifted into a display of tact and espionage; Osaka didn't cry of their attendance, but turned a blind eye, rather, settled into oblivion of the task at hand. The Dogs were not enemies. They did not wage war against the dancing folk, and they did not initiate shouting contests with the performers. They were one amongst the denizens, to laugh and to weep beside them, to throw caution to the wind and drink their sorrows away.

But they were aware, and they ran. Unseen, they cut across the way of the shrine lawn, hugging its perimeter, hiding in the greenery. Although the stairway to the honden was a death trap, there was always a workaround. The mikoshi drew ever closer, and as it approached, the Beta would hear salvation from the earpiece: twenty soldiers, fifteen of which were kamikaze, were at her disposal, and one appeared before her to confirm the situation. It was Itoi, a commandeering kappa in human guise.

"From the Alpha!" he claimed, breathless, to Kaori and Hayato, bowing before them as he revealed a small amulet. Crafted from vile magic, it would resemble the pheonix-shaped piece that adorned the Queller's neck. "If she is to reach the sanctuary before us, we can still get to her. With enough persistence, the barrier will be drained." The dragon was dead, after all.

He resisted the urge to question the source of her wounds. The contrived scheme, he inferred, was taking its toll on their leader. Apprehensiveness kept him obedient, but he would surely bolt on instruction. Itoi added: "We had minor difficulty with grouping everyone. The rival factions are everywhere. Please forgive us, Beta."

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Character Portrait: Hayato
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