Kashikoi Ahondara [WIP]

[Ahondara]

: Character Information |::

Kashikoi Ahondara

Type: Original
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Polysexual
Status: Stay the eff away (Devoted to a puppet)
Interest: Mattaki~
Face Claim: None; custom picture created for the character

Appearance:

Presenting with a pale and lithe form, Ahondara is actually quite attractive, despite his bizarre appearance and tendencies. He runs a bit on the short side, standing at only 5’9”, but his form is generally pleasing, toned, but not overly muscular. Many often mistake him for an aging acrobat, as it is consistent with his strange apparel, and he does nothing to discourage such thinking. Long blond hair is neatly restrained in a flowing braid that is kept immaculate at almost all times, and a small, well-groomed goatee graces his chin.

Beneath his mask lies a rather handsome visage, marred only by single arrow-shaped scar beneath his left eye. It appears to have been an old wound, cut with surgical precision and burned shut to prevent healing, and resembles a brand more then any accidental injury. His eyes hold a pleasant humor at all times, glittering with repressed mirth and a roguish charm that appeals to members of either gender; surprisingly, one is a cool shade of jade green, while the left is a dull orange.

Perhaps the most iconic of the man’s strangeness is his decision to garb himself in the style of western fools. Bright pink and blue tones are dappled throughout his entire attire, offset by darker shades in the gloves and boots. A mask obscures the top half of his face, fashioned in the shape of a vaguely infernal jester’s cap, complete with tiny bells. Dara is almost never found with a shirt on, instead preferring to go topless at most times.

Personality:

“They’re coming to take me away, haha!”

Pleasant and extroverted, it seems that Ahondara is actually quite a rarity in the world of shinobi. Surprisingly well-tempered and jovial, he holds a great love for the arts, and considers himself more of an entertainer then a ninja. Because of this, he is often times welcomed into social circles, making friends easily; he is entirely amicable and is well-liked by most that come across him.

That is, until one realizes that he is entirely mad.

Though once nearly as level headed as any other criminal, a series of emotionally devastating events drove the last semblance of sanity from Ahondara’s mind, destroying his wits and tearing his consciousness into pieces. Though still capable of cognitive thought, the jester has completely disassociated himself with reality, unable to cope with the reemergence of past trauma and recent losses. While this may seem like something commonplace in a world of tragedy and shinobi arts, it appears as though this particular brand of dementia has managed to completely shatter the ex-Oto-nin’s mind, leaving him to create his own little haven inside his mind.

Much to the surprise of many people, Dara’s view on the world is not positive; instead, he is filled with pessimism and carefully disguised distain. Beneath the “laughing rogue” stereotype lies a surprisingly cynical and bitter philosopher. He has an unexpected wit, though it can turn caustic at the drop of a hat, and often times uses such to converse with those that he finds to be troublesome or annoying.

There is an air of superiority that permeates his being, and it is very rare that any other character bypasses it; in Dara’s mind, he is entirely alone, both in his suffering and in his intelligence. Most other shinobi seem petty and foolish to him, worrying about such trivial things as alliances and honor. Indeed, the mere term “honor” doesn’t apply to Dara in the least bit; having given up everything, mentally, materially, and physically, while he was in Otogakure, he looks at those who seek to avenge their own pride as just plain moronic. Those that complain of difficulties get no sympathies either; having gone through hell, only to emerge in a world that condemns his very existence, Dara has no pity for shinobi with minor problems.

While he may have no honor, Dara has quite a bit of self-pride, and can even be considered vain to an extent. His physical appearance means quite a bit in his own mind, and he is absolutely obsessive-compulsive about any potential scars upon his body. Because of such, he hoards healing items with a ferocious passion, using them to make sure that he stays pristine and radiant, no matter what wounds are inflicted upon him.

Much more intelligent then he lets on, Dara finds great pleasure at picking apart the human mind to its rawest stages, looking at emotions as mere playthings. He is manipulative to a fault, and can sway even the hardest of hearts to his own views with honeyed words and promises, which is perhaps the only reason he is still alive.

For all intents and purposes though, he does appear to be well-rounded and devious, poking fun at the world around him and how serious people have become. He dislikes how every person attempts to make themselves more “badass” then they really are, and will gleefully point out holes and flaws in their monologues and pitiful attempts at acting. This is not the sign of a healthy and well-adjusted man, though; no, the very fact that Dara has gone through so much and is still able to joke and laugh is a testament to something terribly wrong in his mind.

Dara is unable to discern what “love” is, plain and simple. While he was devoted to a women when he was younger, the years of torture have driven any idea of the emotion from his mind; “love” is now equated with “lust” and “pain”. The weakness and grief that the emotion causes is too much for him to handle, and he distances himself, trying to keep any such thoughts at a bear minimum. His relationship with the shinobi Mattaki was the first real emotional connection that the man had made in years, and while it left a profound improvement on his deranged mentality, the Iwa-nin’s death left him deeply scarred and unable to deal with emotional bonds anymore.

It can never be said that Ahondara wasn’t affected by his lover’s death; indeed, a profound sorrow permeates his entire being, influencing his actions. While he turned the Iwa-nin into a puppet, it is entirely unknown if he realizes the weight of his actions. He recognizes Mattaki’s usefulness as a weapon, but he still treats the puppet as if it were at least semi-alive at times, and still dotes his affections on it.

History:

Major WIP

Chakra Element: Fuuton; Doton

Rank: Nuke-nin, estimated at elite jounin strength

Affiliation: Otogakure no Sato

Weapons:

Weapon Name: Mattaki
Type: Hitogutsu puppet
Properties: Mattaki appears to be around average height, standing at 5’6”. Because of the metal within its body, it is rather heavy, unable to be lifted without the aid of chakra strings or jutsu that seal it away.
Character: Kashikoi Ahondara
Description:

After his lover’s death, Ahondara, in a state of grief, stole his body and turned it into a puppet, sealing some of the man’s energy into the new form. The resulting creation has become the jester’s favorite weapon, and perhaps, disturbingly, even more; heartbroken and unable to deal with the loss, his mind became warped so badly that he now carries the puppet everywhere, and summarily speaks to it and treats it if it were still alive, even going so far as to refer to it as his ‘wife’.

Defense form: The most common form that Mattaki is utilized in; this form retains the dress that the man was so famously known for, however the cloth has been replaced with a mail-like substance of finely woven metal threads. This has the ability to stop most slashing weapons that are not enhanced with chakra, protecting the puppet’s interior from being harmed. Near the chest area are two small metal plates that also function as armor, adding more protection to the puppet’s torso. Sharp spikes of flexible metal have replaced the normal fur lining of at the breast line of the garment, and the belts that formed the skirt were enhanced with steel wiring running through them. The multicolored dreadlocks that the man wore have been turned into metal versions of themselves, though they still retain the bizarre and fantastical coloring. The puppet as a whole is made out of both wood and metal, and the inner skeleton is made out hollow, reinforced steel piping. Within this structure is stored granulated iron for use in jutsu; when needed, it emerges through Mattaki’s eyes and mouth, as well as its joints.

While this form is mainly for defensive purposes, Mattaki still has a few hidden weapons that it is able to utilize. The puppet's teeth are still razor sharp like they were in life and have been coated in a mild toxin that has soporific effects on organic, non-plant beings. The dreadlocks are actually incredibly sharp at the tips and can, in extreme situations, be fired off like kunai towards opponents. Similar to jutsu the man used in life, a pair of jointed metal ‘belts’ lie curled up in the sleeves of the dress. These are used for whipping and mild slashing attacks, and have a reach of up to nine feet. As a final precaution, there are small openings in the knee and elbow regions of the dress; when needed, Mattaki can project eight inch steel spikes from his body at these locations in order to make surprise attacks.

Attack form: To convert into attack form, a series of metal clasps unhook down the sides of Mattaki’s dress and a small compartment opens up in the puppet’s back. The dress is retracted into the hollowed out inside of the puppet, exposing its bare torso and tastefully clothed lower body. In addition to the normal set of arms, six smaller, hyper mobile appendages extend from where the ribs of the man used to be. Each of these limbs are made of multiple segments, are rather thin, and are tipped in a curved blade with two spikes running the opposite direction. These spikes prevent the blades from being easily removed from the body, as they hook into the flesh when injuries are inflicted. The unarmored form allows for much more mobility then normal, and Mattaki retains the ability to use the steel spikes from its joints, as well as its normal biting attack.

• A few healing scrolls
  
• Soldier pills
  
• A set of jeweled throwing knives

Known Jutsu: WIP

Theme Songs(s):

• They’re Coming to Take Me Away - Neuroticfish
  
• The Vicious Cabaret - V for Vendetta

Extra Notes: I’m in ur site, makin’ bad guys~

: Puppeteer Information |::

Your Name: Cendrillon
Your Age: 19
Read The Manga / Seen The Anime? fdsjaklfds GODDAMNIT KISHIMOTO
How'd you find me?! I ate it
Rule Code: hagane
Sample RP:

Years before the current time setting

Nights were always something of a paradox; on one hand, they were essential to the survival of any living creatures, as it was a time meant for the mind and body to rest and recuperate. On the other end, it also provided a time when rules seemed to just disappear, leaving only the intense burning need to fulfill urges that normally couldn’t be acted upon during the day. Drinking, gambling, sex, fighting…all seemed to arise from the allies and back ways of cities when the sun set; merely people following instinctual needs and denying themselves the rest they so deserved.

Normally, under different circumstances, a certain blond haired nuke-nin would be out celebrating the hedonistic pleasures that the night offered, returning, if at all, early in the morning as the sun began to rise. Such was his lifestyle, and even his status as a wanted criminal did little to deter him from seeking out company night after night.

Tonight was an exception though; he had just returned after an extended mission that had involved, to say the least, getting both punched out and blown up, all within a few hours of each other. It had been trying, and after all had been said and done, he had bade farewell to his partner and made the long trek back to the earth country. There would be time for revelry later, but for now he was content to slip into the black waters of uneasy rest, troubled by dreams of smoke filled rooms, of mocking laughter, and of tortures so exquisite that it almost made him weep to remember.

Perhaps the rest of the night would have continued as such, if not for a sudden shrieking laughter that tore through the small house, apparently coming from the front of the living room. Irrational instincts overrode any normal thought, and in an instant the jester was out of his room, clad in merely a pair of boxers and nothing more. He barely managed to stop from sending a dagger into the intruder’s skull, but jus the sheer bizarreness of the scene before him stopped the action.

There, lying in the middle of the room without a care in the world, was the man from earlier, practically reeking of a distillery. It was just too odd, and for a moment all Ahondara could do was stare, his brain trying in vain to process the fact that one of the most powerful shinobi in the city was currently sprawled out drunk on his floor. After a few seconds, he cursed, looking around slightly to see if anyone had noticed the rather loud and not so subtle man that had just burst through his door. Luckily, it seemed like no one cared, and so he quickly shut the door, locking it for good measure.

“Mon dieu…Mattaki, cherie,” his mind was still clouded from sleep, but he knelt down, slipping one arm under the inebriated man’s shoulders and the other under his knees. With a bit of effort he stood, carrying the flame-eyed Iwa-nin, with difficulty, over to a rather beat up leather couch across the room. Setting the man back down he stood, staring at his flushed face, unsure of what to do. The mere fact that he was here meant that the terms of their fragile alliance were probably being called into play, but it just felt like there was something else entirely that had caused the man to appear so suddenly.

“Cherie,” he knelt down again, pushing a bit of multicolored hair away from the man’s eyes, “are you alright?”