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The world in which we exist is naturally apathetic: an object that's not acted upon is content to rot where it is. Our existence is the result of a huge series of chain reactions. Every action a ripple; every choice affecting every other choice in a never-ending cycle where larger ripples cancel out the smaller ones. There's no point in acting small: those that don't make ripples may as well not exist. That's why, when I jump in the pond, my fat ass will make waves which won't be ignored.
Normal || Drunken Lullabies | Flogging Molly ||
Angry || White Knuckles | Five Finger Death Punch ||
Emotional || The Tragic Truth | Five Finger Death Punch ||
Heist || Thrift Shop | Macklemore & Ryan Lewis, feat Wanz ||
Battle || The Walker | Fitz and the Tantrums ||
Master Sword Battle || If I Fall | Five Finger Death Punch ||
♔ || Name || ♔
Kiba Bayushi
♔ || Nickname(s) || ♔
I wish I had a cool nickname, or like... an alias... like "Okami Shiroi" or "Fang." You know, something that sounds intimidating. Maybe in another life...
♔ || Race || ♔
Human
♔ || Specializes In || ♔
Human of Brigands
♔ || Age || ♔
24
♔ || Gender || ♔
Male
♔ || Sexuality || ♔
I like chicks, bro
♔ || Face Claim || ♔
♔ || Height || ♔
5'10''
♔ || Weight || ♔
210 LBS
♔ || Hair Color || ♔
Black, with very... very... very slight, hardly noticeable graying about his temples. (It's a touchy subject for him)
♔ || Eye Color || ♔
Blue / Green (Heterochromia of the eyes)
♔ || Skin Tone || ♔
Tan
♔ || Build/Appearance/Preferred Clothing || ♔
Kiba is a little squat for his frame at a mere five feet and change, broad through his muscular shoulders and barrel chest... in fact, Kiba is rather shaped like a barrel. His upper body is toned and muscular through years of hard labor and training, and he'd have a rock solid six pack... if you could pick it out beneath that layer of flab. He's not fat, by any means just... round about the middle. Kiba was one of those kids that stopped growing up, and instead began to grow out as he reached the end of his adolescence, and it's a losing battle he's fought for his entire life. It was a rather disappointing turn since his father was basically a human "V" and looked like he could kill a man with a folded napkin. He probably inherited his shape from his mother who was a little plump, politely speaking of course. Needless to say, however, Kiba is built like a tree, and strong as an ox.
His face is a little round about the cheeks, though not heavyset and he keeps a kind of rugged handsomeness, with that perpetual scruff he sports. His black hair is shaggy but not long and hangs in his eyes on occasion. His eyes are striking, almost unforgettable and probably his most prominent feature, since heterochromia of the eyes is rare in Japan: his right eye is as blue as a clear sunny day on the beach, and his left is green like a freshly polished emerald. On his left shoulder, running the length of his arm is a tattoo of ten demons, each holding a unique blade. The demon at the very top wields a sword looking startlingly similar to Kiba's Swordbreaker, and has a long, straight scar running across it.
Kiba normally wears a black kimono with loose sleeves and a hood, belted at the waist by a worn leather belt with a silver clasp, white breeches and sturdy leather boots. A second strap crosses his back, loops over his right shoulder and then ties in to the buckle at his waist. Hung on the back of this harness is the baldric for his unusually shaped broadsword, the tip of which pokes out over his right shoulder and the handle, which is held in place by a leather snap hangs against his waist near his left hand.
♔ || Weapon || ♔
Swordbreaker: The sword itself was obviously crafted by a master smith, and though the scabbard has seen much wear, the blade is immaculate. The weapon is nearly forty inches in length from tip to pommel, with a grip designed for one handed use with the option to wield it with two. At the top of the handle is a simple cross guard with a trigger indentation for his index finger. The blade itself is three inches wide and made of the highest quality steel and has a gentle curve to it to facilitate slashing. It has a sharp point that can be used for stabbing, but ends in a wicked looking hook designed to trap and disarm opponents. The unsharpened edge has a serrated finish that will swiftly ruin an opponent's weapon.
Underneath his tunic he's been known to wear a lightweight vest of steel lamellar plates. Rumor has it, he also keeps a length of steel chain weighted at both ends wrapped around his right forearm.
♔ || Abilities || ♔
"My special power is the ability to turn any mundane object into a weapon of serious inconvenience!"
♔ || Personality || ♔
Charming, a little brusque, a hit with the ladies, or he'd like to think so. Kiba is what happens when you give the gift of gab to someone who has trouble tying his metaphorical shoes in a social situation. He would LOVE to think that he has a silver tongue, but his real skill is finding exactly the wrong thing to say at exactly the right moment to get himself in trouble. As you can imagine, this has lead to a long history of bar fights and duels. Being a fine purveyor of the brew hasn't helped much either, rather it's led to more than one fine night of reflection in the drunk tank. He's quick to champion a cause, and always tries to do the right thing, but more often than not ends up causing more chaos than was intended. Sometimes he firmly believes that he was born under an unlucky star...
♔ || Likes || ♔
*Beer!
*Women
*The very occasional friendly bar scrap
*Defending the weak
*Contests of strength
*Fine crafts, forging, sword making
*The simple things...
♔ || Dislikes || ♔
*Girly drinks... (Only women and effeminate men drink that fruity stuff)
*All this supernatural hocus-pocus...
*Sneaking
*Hiding in the shadows
*Being quiet in general
♔ || Talents || ♔
Kiba isn't a master swordsmith, but he's right handy with a hammer and a forge and can repair damn near anything. The weapons he's made are of good quality, great for bounty hunters, soldiers, or generally anyone who uses a standard run of the mill weapon. A master crafted katana would be way beyond him. He's ambidextrous and quite strong, and if you count being able to chug a pint of beer in under fifteen seconds as a "special talent," there's that too.
Unorthodox Fighter: Used properly, his broadsword can trap blades, spears, and shields, pull them out of position, or even break them. His sword is also not his only weapon: Kiba weighs more than two-hundred pounds and is mostly muscle. He fights using his entire body, including his mass to his advantage. Fists, elbows, knees, his head, crushing an opponent into a wall with his body, anything is fair game... anything, meaning any object that's not nailed down. Just like it says in his special power, any object Kiba can pick up is suddenly a dangerous weapon. That chair you're sitting in is pretty innocuous, until you figure out that it has four pointy ends and a big flat surface to use as a shield. Nice ones are even braced along the bottom for stability and can easily trap, disarm, or otherwise incapacitate an enemy. Plates become dangerous exploding projectiles and that table isn't just for eating on: It's good cover, and the nice round ones roll at a surprising clip! Kiba may have been trained in traditional martial methods by an ex-imperial guardsman, but he refined his fighting skills in pubs and alleys. Fighting in cluttered, awkward spaces is his specialty.
♔ || Flaws || ♔
*(Functioning) Alcoholic
*Lost Love: Kiba pretty much has a one track mind where his father's swords are concerned. If any information comes up concerning the 9 remaining demons or the 9 remaining master swords they stole from his family he MUST pursue it, even if it ends up being a red herring. Trying to stop him from doing this is the easiest way to end up crossing blades with him.
*Tendency to become existential and over-analyze the meaning of existence while drunk... so pretty much all the time.
*Kind of gullible... how do you think he ended up in this outfit anyway?
♔ || Fears || ♔
*Apathy: Doing nothing is tantamount to non-existence.
♔ || Family || ♔
None to speak of
♔ || Romantic Interest || ♔
Um... Well I'm not embarrassed to admit that Akiko is pretty fine. She keeps telling me she's a man, but she's just playing hard to get.
♔ || Bio || ♔
"I'm gonna be a great warrior! A hero who defends the weak and 'whack, whack!' kills the bad guy!"
"Excellent, Kiba... a great warrior needs a weapon," his father exclaimed.
"Yeah, a mighty sword and a sturdy shield!"
"Here is your weapon, hero," his father said, thrusting a heavy stick into Kiba's hand.
"But, it's a stick," Kiba whined with a note of obvious disappointment.
"Yes, a stick. Every hero starts somewhere," his father explained as a length of rope with a small iron weight stuck on the end whipped around the end of Kiba's stick and it was suddenly ripped from his grasp, leaving him with empty hands and a startled look of wonder. "And when you can best this rope with your stick, I will give you the rope. When you can best the whip with your rope, I will give you the whip. When you can best the chain with your whip, I will give you the chain, and finally when you can best the sword with the chain, you and I will forge a sword worthy of a true hero together. Until then, you'll work this hammer at the forge: down on their luck heroes need to earn a living somehow and no son of mine will be a slacker!"
This was Kiba's childhood. He worked his body at the forge, learned metallurgy, proper care of his equipment and handy trade skills like shoeing horses, repairing pots and pans, and forging kitchen knives. In his free time he studied with his stick. Kiba's father was once part of the Imperial Guard, and since he was little Kiba wanted nothing more than to be a great soldier and a hero like his dad... because what good father isn't their child's hero? His father found love fairly young, and retired once his wife was with child to pursue a safer career... though not before he absorbed years of training and service at the guard. He hadn't any non-martial skills, save some natural strength and an impeccable work ethic which was good enough to land him an apprentice position with a local swordsmith.
Kiba was raised in this manner, training his body and muscles at the forge from a young age, and honing his hand-eye coordination with the hammer at the anvil. Smithing was hard work, and Kiba grew up to be a promisingly large and strong youth, much larger than the other kids his age... though his height stopped increasing in his early adolescence and the other children quickly outstripped him. Instead Kiba's girth increased in spite of his many hours of hard labor at the forge. Nobody dare tease him, however, since he could pick up and throw a fifty pound bag of sand fifteen yards over his head. As his skill with the stick and his father's strict training increased, he eventually graduated to the rope, which took him years and many black eyes to master. It wasn't until his late teens that he graduated from rope to whip, and then whip to chain... ah that age they start letting fresh young whelps into bars. The training and work weren't enough for Kiba, and in spite of being a little heavy, he always had plenty of energy to burn at the end of the day and chose to refine his art in bar brawls. There's no substitute for experience as they say. When Kiba was twenty-one he finally graduated to the sword, which Kiba designed himself to fit his unique fighting style, and his father forged from the finest materials as project to finally graduate to master swordsmith.
That year he and his father forged ten unique master blades, including the Swordbreaker. One day while Kiba was out getting supplies, his father's shop burned down with both his parents inside. Although the investigation turned up nothing to suggest foul play, the ten master blades went missing and Kiba knew that the fire couldn't have been hot enough to destroy all of them. After a year of fruitless searching turned up nothing, Kiba turned to the drink. He'd all but given up until he saw something in a half-drunk haze: a figure with a scabbard that had a strong resemblance to one of the swords his father had made. What else could he do but follow, somehow manage not to be detected even though he was positive stealth was completely out of the question (he stumbled into a chicken pen at one point and was chased about by angry roosters for what felt like hours), and find ten demons.
Ten demons, each with one of his father's master swords.
♔ || Other || ♔
