Sept 23, 2021 17:49:35 GMT
[attr="class","APP1"]
[attr="class","APP2"]
[attr="class","APP3"]
Like an afterthought, an infant surfaces along the outskirts of Iwagakure no Sato. It's dawn when they discover his helpless body, all alone. He giggles as world-worn hands lift him from the dirt. They deliver him into the busy arms of a rundown orphanage, where he will spend his earliest years. There, a caretaker cradles the infant gently. Caressing his soft hair, she feels a whisper drift like wind from her lips—”Kikuyō.”
Raised in a slum known as “Cheapside,” the wily youth played out his childhood years roving back-alleys and dusty side-roads, learning the ways of the world from life’s ne'er-do-wells: thieves, outlaws, and prostitutes of every kind. With a natural distaste for order, he never spurned the hand he was dealt, but actually came to enjoy the freedom of living without authority or expectation, taking to the life of a swindler like a sparrow to the sky. Laughter would fill his lungs as he’d enter the orphanage carrying a hefty sack of purloined goods. A loaf of bread for a famished child, a wooden toy for another; roses for his crush, a ruby ring for the head caretaker; a jug of wine... well, he’d keep that to himself.
The stray had an uncanny knack for the trickster’s trade, and built a warm reputation within his neighborhood as a daring pickpocket who didn’t mind sharing. While brutality did abound in Cheapside, as in any ghetto, Kikuyō looks back on his childhood fondly, remembering chilly winter nights outlasted beside other street-kids, huddling around makeshift fires, telling bawdy jokes and passing around stolen sake; and long summer days burned away lounging on earthen rooftops, basking in the sun's embrace, as carefree as can be.
And it could have lasted forever, until the day he got arrested.
Following a botched attempt at hustling a ninja-in-disguise with a pair of false dice, he was thrown into a jail cell and given an ultimatum: reform, join the academy and serve his village or serve an undefined stint behind bars. In the end, he chose the former, imagining that the training would be useful for his own devices, if nothing else. He was both pained and impressed as he entered a school building for the first time in his eleven tameless years. And so began life in the academy.
He learned begrudgingly, at first, before gradually softening up to the prospect of becoming a shinobi. When he discovered the amount of ryo you could earn from missions, the gambler in him was sold. And the day they were filed into the courtyard and handed wooden bokken, seized by the newfound thrill of sword-fighting, he made his decision. Still, not quite the ideal student, he earned many-a-paddling for joking during lessons, sneaking-in sake, and just outright skipping class—playing hooky to peruse the Yūkaku district, sight-seeing before inevitably being booted out for attempting to court the women of pleasure working there.
It was during this period that he developed a passion for Haiku poetry—quite by accident, in fact—after being assigned the scrolls of the ancient Haijin “Tsujo” as punishment. He has since spent many nights poring over the classics and is perpetually honing his own craft, often breaking into extempore Haiku verse, called “freestyling,” when inspiration strikes. By his graduating term he had adopted the pen name Nimble Letter and released a collection of Haiku called “Blades of Grass,” which blended natural and shinobi-esque imagery, to some local acclaim.
He advanced from trainee to Genin in style, tying the forehead protector to his obi sash, where it hangs at his side. Of course, his freewheeling behavior hadn’t changed at all; he remains inclined to gamble, swindle, and be a jokester, otherwise. But a burgeoning desire for adventure has taken harbor in his chest, and he longs to see the world beyond Cheapside—beyond the Stone, even—katanas at-hand, seeking fame and fortune and fuel for his ink-quill. And older women, of course.
Kaguya Heritage [Unranked]❀❀❀❀❀❀
About Kikuyō
A wild sunflower reaches through the barren earth.
It nourishes itself on blood lapped from its roots, laughing with life beneath the bountiful warmth of the sun.
It nourishes itself on blood lapped from its roots, laughing with life beneath the bountiful warmth of the sun.
Like an afterthought, an infant surfaces along the outskirts of Iwagakure no Sato. It's dawn when they discover his helpless body, all alone. He giggles as world-worn hands lift him from the dirt. They deliver him into the busy arms of a rundown orphanage, where he will spend his earliest years. There, a caretaker cradles the infant gently. Caressing his soft hair, she feels a whisper drift like wind from her lips—”Kikuyō.”
Raised in a slum known as “Cheapside,” the wily youth played out his childhood years roving back-alleys and dusty side-roads, learning the ways of the world from life’s ne'er-do-wells: thieves, outlaws, and prostitutes of every kind. With a natural distaste for order, he never spurned the hand he was dealt, but actually came to enjoy the freedom of living without authority or expectation, taking to the life of a swindler like a sparrow to the sky. Laughter would fill his lungs as he’d enter the orphanage carrying a hefty sack of purloined goods. A loaf of bread for a famished child, a wooden toy for another; roses for his crush, a ruby ring for the head caretaker; a jug of wine... well, he’d keep that to himself.
The stray had an uncanny knack for the trickster’s trade, and built a warm reputation within his neighborhood as a daring pickpocket who didn’t mind sharing. While brutality did abound in Cheapside, as in any ghetto, Kikuyō looks back on his childhood fondly, remembering chilly winter nights outlasted beside other street-kids, huddling around makeshift fires, telling bawdy jokes and passing around stolen sake; and long summer days burned away lounging on earthen rooftops, basking in the sun's embrace, as carefree as can be.
And it could have lasted forever, until the day he got arrested.
Following a botched attempt at hustling a ninja-in-disguise with a pair of false dice, he was thrown into a jail cell and given an ultimatum: reform, join the academy and serve his village or serve an undefined stint behind bars. In the end, he chose the former, imagining that the training would be useful for his own devices, if nothing else. He was both pained and impressed as he entered a school building for the first time in his eleven tameless years. And so began life in the academy.
He learned begrudgingly, at first, before gradually softening up to the prospect of becoming a shinobi. When he discovered the amount of ryo you could earn from missions, the gambler in him was sold. And the day they were filed into the courtyard and handed wooden bokken, seized by the newfound thrill of sword-fighting, he made his decision. Still, not quite the ideal student, he earned many-a-paddling for joking during lessons, sneaking-in sake, and just outright skipping class—playing hooky to peruse the Yūkaku district, sight-seeing before inevitably being booted out for attempting to court the women of pleasure working there.
It was during this period that he developed a passion for Haiku poetry—quite by accident, in fact—after being assigned the scrolls of the ancient Haijin “Tsujo” as punishment. He has since spent many nights poring over the classics and is perpetually honing his own craft, often breaking into extempore Haiku verse, called “freestyling,” when inspiration strikes. By his graduating term he had adopted the pen name Nimble Letter and released a collection of Haiku called “Blades of Grass,” which blended natural and shinobi-esque imagery, to some local acclaim.
He advanced from trainee to Genin in style, tying the forehead protector to his obi sash, where it hangs at his side. Of course, his freewheeling behavior hadn’t changed at all; he remains inclined to gamble, swindle, and be a jokester, otherwise. But a burgeoning desire for adventure has taken harbor in his chest, and he longs to see the world beyond Cheapside—beyond the Stone, even—katanas at-hand, seeking fame and fortune and fuel for his ink-quill. And older women, of course.
Proficiencies
Kaguya Heritage [Unranked]
Kikuyō’s parentage is unknown, though it is probable that they are either long deceased or missing-in-action. He has always, however, been afflicted with random bouts of bloodlust—attesting, unbeknownst to him, to the Kaguya blood coursing through his veins. With the realization of his latent power, these bouts have become more frequent, usually thrumming forth at the first signs of combat.Shikotsumyaku [Rookie] ✿❀❀❀❀❀
Known for their formidable Kekkai Genkai, members of the Kaguya clan possess an utterly durable skeletal structure that they can manipulate to lethal effect. Kikuyō was shocked when, at thirteen, the first calling of his bloodline erupted from within, and it wasn't long before he had fully awoken to the extent of his inheritance. Still, the power is quite new, and he has yet to learn how to manipulate his skeleton beyond basic applications, such as jutting a spike from his palm, repairing tiny fractures, or hyper-hardening small areas of his naturally fortified bone.Kenjutsu [Apprentice] ✿✿❀❀❀❀
Kikuyō's two-sword style has been cultivated more through real-time combat than any formal training, adhering to the motto of “whatever works.” He began to learn dual-wielding after scoring two classy katana in a lucky wager, figuring it would be a shame to let either go to waste. His style makes ample use of feints, distracting with one blade before lashing out with the other, and years spent hustling in gambling dens has attuned him to the sly rhythms of sleight-of-hand, which naturally trickles into his swordplay.Taijutsu [Rookie] ✿❀❀❀❀❀
As of recently, his Kaguya bloodright has granted his sword-style an added flavor. Extending small spikes along his fingers and palm lends a playfulness to his sword-grip, allowing him to strike from hand postures that would cause most to lose control of their weapon; many would find themselves unaccustomed to the unorthodox nature of his striking angles, as a result. With the palm spikes specifically, he can manipulate the tilt of his sword mid-slash and without any telegraphing movement of wrist or finger. As such, the trajectory of his blade can curve without warning, lending an elusiveness and unpredictability to his attacks.
At the advent of his bloodline’s awakening, Kikuyō began to experiment with a self-concocted style of martial arts that employs his newfound prowess. Instead of throwing regular punches, he will harden the bones in his hands and extend spikes from his fingertips, weaving between four-finger nukite jabs and claw-like lunges (not swipes), each aiming to penetrate flesh, with the rare kick in-between. He likes to keep his footwork active, usually rocking irrhythmically from side to side, never stopping at any one place.Stealth [Rookie] ✿❀❀❀❀❀
Growing up on the back-streets of Iwagakure, Kikuyō picked up the basics of stealth naturally and long before he had begun his training in the academy. Skills like pickpocketing, shoplifting, and sleight of hand are all familiar territory to the trickster youth. Though he never had to be skilled enough to regularly evade the attention of trained ninja, and thus hasn’t advanced his skills in stealth beyond a certain point, he is nonetheless seasoned enough to take advantage of ordinary bandits and the like.
[attr="class","APP3"]
Kikuyō Kaguya looks like Seijuro Yoshioka.
Vagabond
Kikuyō Kaguya looks like Seijuro Yoshioka.
