Name: Snow, Ankoku
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Birthday: January 1st
Clan: Unknown At This Time
Sexuality: Asexual
Village: Sabakugakure
Rank: Chunnin
Element(s): Futon | Raiton
Specialties: Bukijutsu [Onojutsu] | Ninjutsu
Special Characteristics:Height: 5 Foot, 5 Inches
Weight: 120 Pounds
Hair: White, goes about halfway down her back with bangs framing her face, normally worn back in a ponytail.
Eyes: Amber
Others: N/A
General Appearance: “What do you think you look like to others?”
To most I probably look like a total freak, with white hair and not even the slightest hint of blonde in it. Tall leather boots, a fishnet tee, and pale skin with blood red colored painted lips while working in my shop. And I'm pretty positive the dragon tattoos – visible beneath the fishnet tee – that creep from my lower back up my spine and almost down both arms make people do a double take, as does the ebony angel wing inked into the skin at the corner of my left eye. Of course, that's only when I'm at work.
When I'm home I dress in typical tank tops, shorts, and tennis shoes or standard shinobi sandals. I'm like two different people when that happens - like night and day really.
Personality: “What makes you unique? What makes you, you?”
I may not look it but I'm probably the most responsible person I know. Now, anyway. I've got a successful business, I pay my bills on time, and after I cleaned up my act I did a pretty good job raising my little brother.
“What about before? What were you like then?”
I was a hellion: a bad seed. I smoked, I drank, I did drugs, and I was very promiscuous. My friends and I made sport out of breaking into the local cemetery’s and partying until dawn's light broke across the sky. There was a lot of fighting with my parents back then: they asked questions, too many questions. It caused us to grow apart a bit; it caused me to stay out of the house more. I guess that's why I know better now, when dealing with my brother: I know to give him his space, and let him come to me instead of tearing him a new one each time he does something wrong.
“You and your brother sound very close.”
We are. I love him to death. I've walked through hell for that boy and I'd do it again in a heartbeat to keep him safe. He's the last of my family, he's my whole world.
“What about death? Don't you fear it?”
Death I've known for a long time. I've seen it first hand and it left a gruesome imprint on my mind that will haunt me forever. But like most crappy things that have happened in my life, I've just dealt with it, and maybe death has made me stronger. One thing I've learned is no matter how you face it, and no matter the situation, there's one constant present: finality. There's no getting around it.
Likes: "So, what do you like to do in your spare time? What do you like to do in general?"
I suppose you'll likely think of me as a workaholic, but I really don't bother having spare time all that much. I enjoy working in my shop; tattooing people. I enjoy giving them permanent pieces of artwork to always wear on their skin, to always be proud of. When I see them smile it makes me smile. I could spend all day working and never tire of it.
"What about your brother? What do the pair of you like doing together?"
We go to the park a lot. I'm not as big a sports nerd as him, but close enough. We like tossing around a football, playing frisbee, that kind of thing. He likes to train too - he wants to be a Chuunin like me someday, so he's always challening me and trying to play fight. I always worry about pushing things too far with him, but he takes it all with a smile and just keeps begging for more.
Dislikes: "What about your dislikes? What really sticks in your crawl?"
Oh, that's not hard to think of: I hate people who brag. Braggarts of all shapes and sizes. I'm sure you know the type; overly muscled, wearing shirts that look far too small for them just to show off their already disgustingly enormous muscles? Yeah, that kind. Who show off and try and make themselves look bigger in front of the weak.
"What about bullies? Most of them tend to be so..."
You're right, I dislike them too - though, I guess hate might be a stronger word for it. They drive me nuts, always picking on people they think they can beat up. You don't see them doing it to people stronger than them though do you? That's what really irritates me. When a threat comes along they either tuck their tails between their legs and run away, or they try and befriend the threat so they can have extra backup for when someone finally decides to stand up to them. Just disgusting in my opinion...
Motivations: "Let's move on, shall we? What motivates you? What makes you get up in the morning and face another day?"
That's not a question that's so easy to answer. I mean, I think it's a lot harder for me than it is the average shinobi, you know? There's always that addiction in the back of my mind threatening to take hold if I let it. The urge to drown my sorrows and issues, to skip out on my responsibility. But, my brother helps keep me focused on doing the right thing. I want to be a proper example for him in his life - I don't want him to destroy his life like I had started to destroy mine.
My village helps too. There are so many good people around - people I've met through my shop I opened - and I want to make sure they're safe. It's why I push myself when I'm training. Why I keep waking up every morning and working not just one but two jobs to keep food on the table and to keep everyone safe.
Fears: "What are you scared of the most in life? What keeps you awake at night and haunts your thoughts when you're alone?"
Jesus, you really know how to ask them don't you? Bleah... I guess the same thing I've been talking about. Falling back into old habits, letting it all control me again. I suppose it's more than that though - it's the fear itself of just how
easy doing it all would be. I still have my connections, I have more than enough money to support the habit. It would be as simple as taking a walk down the street to get involved in my old life again. Like any addict will tell you the addiction is always there, even when you're not feeding it. It jumps up at the most inconvientant time, waves its hands around, and tries to get your attention as hard as it can before receeding back into the darkness again.
That goes along of cousre with the fact that I fear disappointing my brother and friends. Nothing would destroy them worse than me going right back to my old ways. I can't allow it to happen, I have to prove that I'm stronger than that - I have to
be stronger than that.
History: “So, tell me. How did you come to raise your brother by yourself.”
Well, I guess we have to go back quite a ways. After I graduated from the Academy I found myself with a lot of money. My parents paid for everything at home, and so I had it to just blow. I fell in with the wrong crowd and started doing the wrong things. Like I said: I used to be a party girl – I was into the deep darkness of the world, a lot of shit went down in front of my eyes, and I was in a lot of the shit that actually went down.
So, the night of the accident was like any other: I was out drunk and partying. I had had to sneak out again because my parents had grounded me for the hundredth time, and I didn't bother even heading back towards the house until three o'clock in the morning. When I arrived I found the village police outside of my door – I thought they were for me because of my truancy and my bad behavior – I never imagined they were there because my parents had been killed in a runaway cart accident. Sure enough though, my brother came running towards me bawling his eyes out, hugging me, and there was no emotion there. I was too high, too drunk, to respond. The next morning I woke up with a hangover, thinking it was all a nasty dream, only to be hit with the truth again – they were dead and they weren't come back. It was a sobering reality, and I realized that I had to be the adult then: I had to be not only the big sister, but the mother, the father, the provider.
“You make it sound so easy... but was it?”
Hell no. I went through the withdrawal, I detoxed. I was a mess for months afterward. My friends – or so called friends I guess I should say – abandoned me. I was no longer cool to them. But my brother, Eli? He stuck by me. He was there through it all; he held my hair when I puked, dragged me back to bed when I was too sick to move myself. He was a saint: and I didn't deserve any of it after all of the shit I had done.
“So what did you do once you were better?”
You mean when I was sober; let's be honest and call this what it was. I had a talent outside of my Genin abilities – I was a good artist. Out of practice, but still good. I was drawing on my brother one day when who we call the Preacher came by and saw. He saw my raw talent for what it could be, and decided to help us out. He let me work around his shop, and the extra money compiled on to what I was making as a Genin from missions helped a lot. I did that for a year, putting all of my money into my brother Eli and his own education. I never dreamed of what Preacher would do though...
“What was that?”
He gave me my own tattoo shop. On my birthday no less. It was the building right next to his; and it doubled as an apartment so my brother and I would be able to live right above my shop. I could work and keep my brother close by in case he needed me. It was the perfect set up.
“So you were both a Genin and a tattooist?”
Yup, that about sums it up. I worked my schedule out so that I could do missions and work in my shop – the work keeps me busy. It keeps me occupied.
“So what about this hell you walked through for your brother, then? I'm assuming you mean more then just the hell you went through getting clean.”
Well, about the time I turned nineteen, just a few months ago actually, my brother got kidnapped. I had no idea who took him, at first, but I was damn sure I was going to find out. I went through hell searching – it was hard to find answers. Eventually, I had to slip back into the underground – the very place I had been avoiding since I got out of the drugs and all of the other bad stuff I had been involved with as a teenager. I found my answers there; though they were riddles that took a while to solve.
Anyway, I found the people who took my brother and why: he had gotten himself in debt to a drug lord and the guy wanted his money back, or my brother's life. I gathered up as many people as I could to help and we took the place by storm. We rescued my brother, and several others who were in the same position. It was an eye opening experience for my brother and for me. Since then he's dedicated himself to my shop too: as my apprentice.
"Is that how you became a Chuunin?"
Yeah, yeah it is, actually... I guess my preformance and determination proved I was strong enough to handle even more responsibility.
RP Sample: “So, it would seem we've come full circle for the day.”
At those words the tattoo covered female nodded and stood up from her chair. She reached across the large desk and shook the hand of the gray haired man in the doctors coat: her shrink. This was going to be the first of many appointments in her attempt to fully return her life to normalcy, and for firsts this hadn't seemed to go so bad. The past didn't hurt to talk about like it should anymore – perhaps, because after all she had been through there was nothing left that could kick her down and keep her there.
“It's been a pleasure, doc.”, Ankoku said with a slanted grin. The doctor simply chuckled in response to her easy going attitude. “I'll see you next week, same time, Ankoku. You know the way out?” Ankoku nodded, grabbed her coat off the back of the cushioned chair, and slung it over her shoulder. She glanced to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything and then walked out of the doctors office. She whistled a merry tune as she left the building, her heels clicking against the concrete covered ground.
As she walked through the streets of Sabaku and back toward what was both home and her job - her apartment being above her shop - she thought over that evenings clients she had lined up. There was of course the 'famous' butterfly tattoo that some fresh young Genin wanted to get to celebrate the occasion - something she'd likely grow tired of later on in life and expect a cover up for. There was also a piece she was going to be doing in memorial of a fallen shinobi: that piece would hit a bit closer to home with her but it was something she would enjoy doing far more than little butterflies and insignificant works of art.
Face Claim: Name / Artist are Unknown |
