Cassie ★

PLAYER
Name: Cassie
Age: 21
Journal: tokyocentricity
Best Method of Contact (AIM/EMAIL/PLURK): tokyocentricity (AIM); starfishing (plurk); tokyocentricity@gmail.

CHARACTER
Name: Youichi Hiruma
Age: 19
Canon: Eyeshield 21
History: Wiki!
Personality: Hiruma is an enigma wrapped in a little blond riddle.

Outwardly, he's loud, vulgar, crazy, and prone to threatening people with violence or blackmail to get what he wants. If you don't plant both feet at least several inches deep in the ground, he's going to run roughshod over you. This applies regardless of status, power, age or whatever else you think you might have over him; Hiruma has very grey morals, zero respect for authority and presents as being basically fearless. Even his better emotions come out a little twisted. When he's happy, he shoots things. When he's fond of you, he kicks you. He doesn't appear to care much, though, for anyone beyond himself (but of course, appearances can be deceiving).

Beneath the bizarre surface is something a little less inexplicable: a cunning, manipulative young man with a mind like a steel trap. He prefers blackmail to violence, as it's 'neater,' and he's highly ambitious and goal-oriented. He's shown a knack for long, tactical games and a keen understanding of strategy in many forms. Even beyond his specialties, he's incredibly bright, proficient in all subjects and outstanding in some. It's been speculated (and there may be some truth to this, though Hiruma himself will never confirm or deny) that much of his outward persona is an affected air, constructed to keep the mindless masses frightened and compliant (read: just the way he likes them).

In truth, the only rules he follows are his own, and the only moral code he adheres to is the one he's set for himself. It's not that he doesn't care about anyone, just that he doesn't care about much of anyone, and he has an odd way of showing it when he does. Emotions aren't the enemy — Hiruma's not so stupid as to think it's just that black-and-white, and he does understand the value of an irreplaceable friend — but they're best kept under careful control, and he never lets his heart rule his head if he can help it.

IN GAME
Brief In-Game History: Little Hiruma was raised by his father in Japan. He sure is a long way from home, isn't he?

Well, his father was a professional chess player, acclaimed at the international level. (Oooh, exciting.) They traveled often; Hiruma learned his father's trade as they went. Unfortunately, the good life didn't last. Around the time Hiruma was ten years old, the old man began to run up on more and more opponents he had no hope of beating, and his chess career was looking like a wash. He struggled to get back into the game, as it was their financial sustenance and the only marketable skill he had, but to no avail. Watching his father flounder and fail over the course of four years, Hiruma began to grow discontent, then disgusted. The man he'd looked up to all his life was only that man when he was winning, and he wasn't winning anymore. When he wasn't winning, he was pathetic.

At last, stranded in Italy, they stumbled upon some good luck. A mysterious stranger offered Hiruma's father the chance to win big, big enough to support himself and his son for the rest of their lives. They would take care of his buy-in, but of course, the stakes were high: a loss, he was told, meant he would be in 'heavy debt' to them — 'the Family.' Still, eager to prove himself again, he agreed. He promised his son that he would win, that this would be the beginning of his comeback, that things would be good again.

He lied.

Without anything to offer to pay for his loss, the old man was quickly killed. The now-orphaned Hiruma, somewhat shaken by the loss of his father, was taken in, and he soon learned that the Mendolia always won. It didn't take them long to earn his loyalty, but they didn't succeed in brainwashing him, either. By appealing to him with logic and action, they managed to win him over. They had beaten his father fair and square, and the man was a loser. Losers deserved to die. Winners deserved to live.

With this newfound creed, Hiruma was swiftly inducted into the laboratories of the Mendolia family, where many experiments resulted in a few of modifications. A series of procedures in which his skull was disassembled and reassembled gave them the opportunity to completely alter his dental work, leaving him with a full set of sharpened, finely serrated teeth. His ears were remodeled, more out of necessity than vanity, and in the process, his hearing was tampered with, raising his threshold of aural pain and hearing loss, and enhancing his sensitivity to lower-decibel sounds. Some of the drugs administered during this time also changed the colour of his hair and eyes to blonde and green, respectively.

By far the most significant test the Mendolia put him through involved the perforare. They discovered that his talent for it lie in (surprise, surprise!) tactics, not offense or defense. Under the influence of the perforare, Hiruma was able to penetrate people's minds and target their most well-hidden secrets. In fact, that was all he could target; he seemed to have difficulty grasping their foremost thoughts, or even thoughts that were specifically directed at him. It was a useful ability, but not one that the Mendolia were so certain they wanted to foster. They did like their secrets, thank you.

In the interest of redirecting his abilities, they introduced Hiruma to guns. Rifles, shotguns, handguns, bazookas, bolt-action, semi- and fully-automatic, and even small explosives, in launchers or without: in time, they had Hiruma memorize the stats and best applications for nearly any weapon he might conceivably get his hands on. The weapons that he did get his hands on were quickly mastered for use. He proved to be quite the asset, even without his double-edged perforare.

Come his eighteenth birthday, however, Hiruma decided to take himself off the Family's hands altogether. As he explained to them, it wasn't that he wasn't grateful, or that he had anyone else to work for — just that he wanted to work independently. As incentive, he was happy to offer discounts on the weapons he'd be dealing, and for them, info would always be free of charge.

Equally happy to receive the offered benefits and place Hiruma somewhere he might prove of more use (out on the streets to trawl for secrets, instead of in their midst), the Mendolia agreed to cut him loose. Of course, Hiruma knew he wasn't completely free of their clutches, but he didn't need to be. He wasn't trying to double-cross them. Family was Family, after all.

Out on his own, he found it easy to turn a profit selling weapons and secrets. It's been a bit more than a year since then, and Hiruma's still living easy out of a hotel in Vizzini.

Type of Bullet(s) Requested: Intuito.
Abilities gained from bullets: Hiruma is able to see into the minds of others, and more specifically, target secrets. The deeper something is buried, the more likely he is to find it. Sifting through unhidden thoughts isn't something he can do easily; while the secrets come to him quickly, stopping to look at anything else along the way requires concentration. If someone's thinking about a secret when he dives in, he'll probably miss it completely.
Famiglia: Independent.

SAMPLES
First Person: Here's a DM post, but there were no comments, so if you needed a better look....

[ The video opens to a brightly-lit room; a pinball machine and a large table, completely covered with a tablecloth-sized map of Sicily can be seen in the background. There are coloured pins stuck all over the map, and a combat knife somewhere in the vicinity of Palermo.

The phone is deposited on said table, not far from the combat knife, leaving it out-of-focus and blurry in the foreground. ]

All right, you fucking goombas, listen up. Got some nice shit for Christmas and I'm feeling fucking generous, so I might give out some gifts myself.

Gonna have a merch showcasing. Piazza Marconi, Friday, my favourite fucking time. You fuckers should know when to be there. Show up late and eat lead.

[ In the background, where the camera has focus, the scoped barrel of a rifle swings past. After that, a hand reaches out to stop the feed, obscuring the view in the process. ]

Third Person: Hiruma blew a lazy bubble and his teeth ripped right through it, so he dragged the gum back into his mouth to try again. There was an art to it, he'd done it before. It just took a few tries. He tried again while he waited for the fucking instructor to decide on something he might not know.

Fat fucking chance.

Hiruma hadn't spent the last couple of years memorizing every fucking piece of artillery they could think up just to have this fucking goon show him up. Truthfully, it wasn't what he wanted to be doing with his fucking time, but it was a decent way to keep busy while he waited.

In just ten months and four days, Hiruma planned to walk out of here a free fucking man. (As free as you ever got from the fucking Mendolia, anyway.) He had an operable plan; he just had to wait until his eighteenth birthday to set it into motion. By his latest assessment, however, the plan was bound to be successful — he estimated about 96%.

The instructor held up a screen with a sturdy little SAR 21 on it. Hiruma pretended to be deep in thought while the fucking instructor's expression grew slowly more gleeful.

"SAR 21. From Singapore. Gas-operated, rotating bolt, takes a 5.56 NATO."

Watching the guy's face fall was enough to make him accidentally pop the next bubble, too.

"That was number forty-five, fucking instructor," Hiruma informed him. "Can I get the fuck out of here now?"

It had been a long time ago that the instructors had given up any pretense of being in charge of the lessons. The man sighed and resigned himself to taking notes as Hiruma left.

PLAYER
Name: Cassie
Age: 21
Journal: tokyocentricity
Best Method of Contact (AIM/EMAIL/PLURK): AIM; tokyocentricity // tokyocentricity@gmail.

CHARACTER
Name: Sebastian Michaelis
Age: 24
Canon: Kuroshitsuji
History: Wiki! There's not much, though. Sebastian is an enigma wrapped in a charming little riddle.

Personality: The most important thing to know about Sebastian is that he always looks out for Number One. His interests come before anyone else's, and that includes people whom he likes (of which there aren't a great many). He sees himself as being superior to most other people, and therefore has little tolerance for their whims and troubles. He's quite unsympathetic, even frequently indulging in schadenfreude.

Sebastian possesses a great deal of pride - pride in his work, in his decorum, in his appearance, in his power - and it shows in spades. He has no reservations in accepting compliments, and any humble rebuff of praise is likely a false show of modesty. As a man with very high standards in all regards, he holds himself to high standards, as well, and accepts nothing less than perfection in his own work (luckily, he rarely, if ever, performs anything less).

On the outside, he appears to be polite, refined, patient and unassuming, and when the mood is right, witty, charismatic and charming. He even puts on an amiable, cheerful air, though the perceived incompetence of those around him often tries his patience to the point of seething temper. This enchanting, upbeat face is the first part of Sebastian that any stranger meets, and often, if they don't stay long, the only. Those who do become regular acquaintances might, in time, come to see some of Sebastian's less pleasant facets, such as his intolerance for failure and his infallible pride, but only those who become his enemies (and who generally don't survive long) are typically witness to his cold and merciless heart.

Sebastian cares so very little for the comfort, well-being or happiness of others that, when it suits him, he will go out of his way to be ruthlessly cruel, whether for business or pleasure. More often than not, this is done at the behest of his boss, but occasionally also of his own design. There are those who Sebastian actively dislikes (as opposed to the more neutral 'doesn't like'), who are generally the targets of this sort of behaviour.

On the other hand, when Sebastian finds someone to be fond of (a rare occurrence, considering his high standards), that same doggedness that he applies to everything else in his life becomes an earmark of loyalty. He will go to ludicrous lengths for a person that he truly cares about, and will go well out of his way to please them (though not so far as to tarnish his own ideals).

IN GAME
Brief In-Game History: Sebastian was born in France to a single mother, his father entirely absent from his life. As a young boy, he was generally indulged, though his mother was heavy-handed with punishment when it was necessary. He took ballet and violin lessons, and was frequently reprimanded for bringing home stray kittens (it is, was and always has been a distinct weakness for him). His childhood, as brief as it was, was a happy one.

When he was eight years old, his father, an Italian man with whom his mother had only had brief relations, reappeared with little explanation and the intention of reclaiming his son. Sebastian's mother fought him fiercely, but he would not be denied, and ultimately, he left her in the hospital and took Sebastian back to Italy with him.

Sebastian's father was Doriano Ravenna, the current — and only second — head of the rather small Amatore family. Sebastian was his second son; the first had been killed in some very unfortunate crossfire, and so Doriano was left to raise Sebastian in his place. He feared his own time as the head of the family was limited, so he leaned hard on the boy and hoped that his family would take care of the rest, should he die before Sebastian was properly old enough.

Under his father's harsh tuition, Sebastian grew disconsolate, moody and eventually hostile. He was unhappy in Italy, unhappy with his father and the new life he'd had thrust onto him, and he spared not his throat or his fists in letting anyone know it. For a few years, this was the way of things with the Amatore family. Sebastian was vocal and sullen by the time of his father's funeral when he was eleven years old. At this time, he was expected to assume his father's position as the family head.

Instead, he ran away. He made his way as far as Sicily, where he was eventually captured by the Mendolia for experimentation. Luckily, he never made it as far as becoming a subject. The car he was being transported in was hijacked by members of the La Guardia family, whose head was, himself, rather vocal about his distaste for the Mendolia's methods. Sebastian was rescued and taken in as a member of the La Guardia family, one of many orphans adopted by the seventh head, Vincent Phantomhive.

Sebastian was charged with looking after Vincent's then three-year-old son, Ciel. He initially resisted both this assignment and Vincent's inexplicable kindness, but his attitude withered under the attentions of Vincent, his wife, and his son, whose disposition was undeniably sunny. Eventually, surliness gave way to a quiet, yielding politeness and congeniality, which remains to this day, if largely as a thin veil for his temper.

He remained under the care of the La Guardia family for years, and it was there, with assistance from Vincent and the Family, that he learned two incredibly important things. The first important thing he learned was how to utilize the perforare. He had developed a talent for knife-throwing while with his father, and this became a base for his Scortesia ability. Use of the Ministro came more slowly, and is still somewhat difficult for him now.

The other important thing he learned was something he took to quickly and naturally: cooking. He began to learn when he was thirteen by watching (and occasionally interrogating) the Phantomhives' chef. By the time he was sixteen, he had taken the man's place as the family's primary chef, and took great pride and pleasure in it. He frequently spoiled little Ciel with desserts and pastries.

When Sebastian was twenty, things took a sharp turn for the unfortunate. The main house of the La Guardia family was burned to the ground while Vincent and his wife were inside. Both of them were presumed dead (though their bodies were never recovered), leaving the now twelve-year-old Ciel to head the La Guardia family. Four years later, Sebastian continues to look after Ciel as Vincent once instructed him to.

Type of Bullet(s) Requested: Scortesia and Ministro.

Abilities gained from bullets:
Scortesia - The throwing knives that Sebastian uses as his primary weapon become markers for a flame-based ability. By marking different shapes/symbols on or around a person or object, he can cause them to catch fire, explode, heat up, melt, or simply summon flames to that location.

Ministro - Any damage inflicted to Sebastian's person after being shot with the Ministro bullet (but before the Ministro's effects wear off) can be repaired, at the cost of Sebastian's energy. He's limited by both the time constraints and his own strength; if he tries to heal a wound that's too severe, he's likely to fall unconscious for up to a few days, depending on his existing injuries.

Famiglia: La Guardia.

SAMPLES
First Person: A thread from route_29? (That would be canon!Sebastian turned effectively human, plus Pokémon. xD;)

Third Person: Sebastian awoke with a jolt when the car screeched to a halt. He scrambled to sit up, only to be blinded by the light suddenly pouring in from an open door. Hands reached in, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him bodily from the vehicle as he struggled.

There were gunshots, but the sound was so familiar to Sebastian by now that he wouldn't realize that he'd heard them until much later, replaying the scene in the safety of his new bedroom.

As the men dragged him from one car to the next, he could hear a voice ringing out above the others, above the gunfire. He couldn't make himself understand it until it was closer, though — right next to his ear, and a hand resting on top of his head. He spoke Italian, without any sort of foreign accent, and his voice was deep and smooth.

"You're safe now, boy." Over the din again, he ordered, "Get him in the car!"

Sebastian stumbled into the backseat, hands still bound, and retreated to the furthest corner he could, kicking at the men who had put him there. As far as he could tell, tied up in one car was the same as tied up in another, and he wasn't having any of it.

After just seconds more, a man slipped into the backseat with him, gun in hand, and called, "Let's go!" before he'd even shut the door properly. They tore out of there, Sebastian pressed against the opposite door when they took the next sharp corner.

When the sirens had begun to fade, the man turned to Sebastian with a warm, disarming smile. Fear was beginning to give way to simple uneasiness; Sebastian still didn't know where he was or who he was with, but he was beginning to think that this particular evil he didn't know might actually be better than the last.

The man reached out, slowly, to loosen the knot in the rope binding Sebastian's wrists together. "I'm Vincent Phantomhive," he said. "Welcome to the La Guardia family."