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Takashida Hirotomo

0 · 174 views · located in Master's Dojo

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Patcharoo, as played by Miraculousjewxx

Description

An imposing figure of five foot ten, muscular and wise featured. A born leader, his hair is in a neat ponytail at the back of his head.

So begins...

Takashida Hirotomo's Story

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The bar was intruded by three people, the first a man in what appeared to be full samurai armour, including a mask twisted into an upset frown. He wore a sword boldly at his belt. To his left was a taller man, easily towering at six and a half feet, shirtless and dark skinned. Finally to his right was a much shorter figure, bent over his own staff, cloak covering all of their features, casting a shadow where they stood.

The trio were unusual, but even moreso was the poster they put up. Wanted. Kenji Hirotomo. It was a simple poster, though no doubt it carried some weight. After the poster was posted, the short and cloak figure hobbled out the door on their cane, the other two, presumably samurai and manservant, chose to head for the counter instead.

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The samurai took a seat next to Ezikren, removing his helmet and handing it to the larger manservant, who stood in waiting. He nodded to Ezikren politely. "Hello," he said, with a thick Japanese accent. He was clearly not from around here, nor did he seem to be trying to learn the language very hard. "Good place for drink, yes?" He turned his head to the touch screen, frowning at it for a moment, as if trying to read it like a menu.

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The samurai opened his mouth, partially in surprise. He wasn't used to the outside world, but he would adjust, poking at a few options on the screen until it finally brought up a language menu. That helped speed things a long. "Many thanks, friendly- ah fox kin?" He wasn't going to outright say 'kitsune', but in truth he hadn't seen a wolf before. Not in his lands. His head turned to the bounty he had placed on the wall and he shook his head.

"Not bounty, no. He is... brother, of mine. Stole something precious to me, and to family." He indicated to his chest as he spoke. "I hope someone other help... Bring him to me. Bring back my family sword."

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The man turned his head down in deep thought. "I do not know," he answered quietly. "He has brought dishonour to family, great dishonour. When he left... Father passed. He is very shame to us." He leant back in his seat, letting out a sigh. "With no honour, I do not want him to back." He shook his head, expression growing firm, angered even. But otherwise the man remained silent, waiting for his sake to arrive.

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The man shook his head. "I could forgive if... He could do as he is meant to." He shook his head. "He will not fight, when he is meant to. It is his purpose in our family. I," he said, tapping at his chest insistantly, "Have to do for him, because he will not." The man shook his head unhappily, ordering a second sake, this one for Ezikren. "I am Hirotomo Takashida."

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msg Evrir That it is going on in the bar as we speak.

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The samurai sighed once more. "Our father was great general. Well loved. Kenji, my brother, was meant to be next general. But he would not fight, and he ran. I had to become general in his place." He didn't seem to bothered by this, but there seemed to be some vague regret towards his brother leaving.

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The man nodded once more. "It is a great honour, and I am very proud. But he stole my family weapons. One came from our lord, the other... passed down son to son." He shook his head angrily. "My brother betrayed our family." He closed his fist, snatching up his sake to drink before slapping the drink down.

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The man shook his head. "I will not expect you to understand." He withheld the word 'foreigner' knowing that it would be a fast way to make enemies. He could keep his racisms to himself. The man stood, barking something sharply in Japanese. His helmet was returned to him and he placed it on his head. He bowed before went out the door.

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Takashida held his helmet beneath his arm as he entered Gambit's, eyes sharply sweeping across. He had a stern glare on his features, a look that said 'There shall be trouble'.

Accompanying him was his darkskinned manservant, like usual, though they too seemed alert and ready for action rather than submissive and waiting for orders. Strangely enough he was accompanied by what appeared to be a gothic student, with dark eyeliner and no hair. It made them look unusual, which lead down to a dark clothed body and a black schoolbag over their back. Finally there was the frail looking advisor, shorter than all the other three, with his cowl drawn over his head and leaning on his walking stick.

The air around them was tense. Uninviting.

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Takashida's set his gaze upon Ezikren and exhaled. "Ezikren," he called out sharply, "You have offended honours of mine, by allying with dishonourable brother." He straightened up fully. "Choose of us... who you will fight." He indicated to himself and those around him, and each stared, ready to act.

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Takashida nodded, stepping back and indicating for his manservant to go forth. "Then you will face Garo. Trained by warriors monks in martial combat." He said something sharply in Japenese, prompting the hulking darkskinned figure to step forward and press his knuckles to his palm. He struck up a fighting stance and stared at Ezikren with dangerous eyes. Something guttural was uttered, followed by a deep chuckle of amusement.

"He says he is prepared for you, this time."

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Garo broke into firm strides towards Ezikren, but when close he dropped back into his stance, a defensive looking stance with his feet firmly set as a center of gravity beneath his shoulders. As he neared closer and closer he slowed down to a creep, inching forward to try to move into striking range.

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The monk quickly stepped backwards as the claws raked over his arm, drawing blood. As his right foot went back, he jerked the left side of his body around, swinging his left arm in a haymaker for Ezikren's head, trying to catch him around the ear or nose if he could and batter him off.

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With his attack deterred, Garo was forced to draw back the left side of his body, thrusting his right arm sideways to deflect the claws aimed for his face. His left foot stepped back to match the change of footing. Indeed the stance did seem to be defensive, though it was only paying off in a small amount at this time.

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The man raised one foot to try to step over Ezikren's leg, but instead slipped sideways, falling towards the ground but catching himself on one hand. With a heave he pressed both hands on the ground and shoved himself into a sideways roll to escape any form of retaliation.

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The man rose with a sharp push, standing upright and returning to his fighting stance. With a sharp few gestures and an utterance of words there seemed to be a change in him, as a symbol on his back glowed and his veins began to run green.

Takashida helpfully remarked, "The Green Padoga," on the change of the monks apparent nature. Green whisps floated from their eyes and they seemed just as resolute before.

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The monk raised his right foot and stomped, sending a brief shockwave through the bar. Takashida and his allies all stumbled from the force, but before giving his opponent a chance to brace himself, Garo surged forward with an open palm to strike for Ezikren, enough force backing it to send him stumbling if not knock him right over.

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The blow would strike the arms, but it still carried immense force. However, as Ezikren had braced himself it would probably soften the impact, which would be followed by a sharp uppercut for the stomach from the other hand, aiming to get under the wolfmans defences. This punch would carry a great toll on impact, a hardening of flesh to wood, an unusual skill only learned by those of the Green Padoga.

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Garo slammed his right foot back, as if a signal of the end of his barrage, arms opening out to either side with a blast of green whisps shooting out to either side as it was dispelled from his blood stream. Garo watched Ezikren to see if he fell, but should the wolfman still be standing he would reach out one finger to poke him in, intending to make him fall over.