APPLICATION.
Player Information
Name: Abi
Age: 17
AIM SN: frostedmirrors
email: ilkanta (at) gmail (dot) com
Have you played in an LJ based game before? Yep.
Bonus: How did you hear about Siren's Pull? Friends, and an advert... somewhere. RP!S, I believe.
Character Information
General
Canon Source: Katekyo Hitman REBORN!
Canon Format: Manga
Character's Name: Takeshi Yamamoto
Character's Age: 25
What form will your character's NV take? An ordinary current-day cellphone, sleek and black with a slide-out screen.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities:Yamamoto's commonly referred to as a "natural born assassin," and that's a reputation that doesn't come for nothing. He's an extremely quick learner, with a strong knack on picking up on completely new skills and becoming an expert with incredible speed. His dedication to baseball in his youth gave him an athelete's body with above-average strength and speed, and his years of experience and training within the Mafia only further honed him into a gifted assassin.
A swordsman by nature, Yamamoto specializes in a style that his father taught him, Shigure Souen Ryu. Originally consisting of eight forms, Yamamoto himself has created at least three more. That's just one element of his fighting style, however -- while heavily reliant on the blade, Yamamoto uses plenty of other things to enhance and aid his swordplay.
In the world of REBORN!, fighting revolves around something known as the Dying Will Flame, which is kind of exactly what it sounds like. A dying will flame is a kind of super-condensed life energy, manifested through the user's raw willpower, and usually channeled through objects like rings. Every person has a different "type" of flame -- in Yamamoto's case, the Rain flame, to match his title as the Vongola Rain Guardian. The nature of the Rain flames is known as calma, or tranquility, weakening other flames and attacks, slowing down and sometimes disabling them to the point of rendering them completely ineffective. Yamamoto's been shown to be especially talented, yet again, when it comes to generating dying will flames.
While it normally requires a strong flame to be channeled through a true Vongola ring to open what's known as a Vongola box weapon, Yamamoto is capable of doing this with rings of comparatively low grade. The boxes contain weapons or other forms of aids in battle, and for Yamamoto, they summon two Rain-type support animals, an akita inu, Jirou, and a swallow, Kojirou. Jirou essentially carries around a bunch of shortswords, while Kojirou can emitt dying will flames in the form of rain across a large area for various purposes, such as camouflage.
Perhaps his greatest asset though, is his attitude. For one opponents tend to underestimate him, since he spends most of his time being all smiles and generally acting like an idiot, but it's his ridiculously perfectionist nature, as well as his incredible determination, that gives him a real edge. Time and time again Yamamoto has shown to be able to push himself well beyond previously established limits to reach new heights. As long as he has something to fight for, he'd rather die trying than fail- the results, so far, are that he isn't dead just yet, and that we have no idea just what he can really do.
Weapons: His katana, a pistol ( fully loaded, plus a few extra clips ), two Vongola boxes and two rings, which are used to open said boxes. The boxes and rings have been described in detail above.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History:REBORN! Wikia: Yamamoto Takeshi.
Yamamoto was born an ordinary Japanese kid in an ordinary Japanese surburb to an ordinary Japanese dad (who just happened to be some kind of a swordmaster but more on that later) who owned an ordinar Japanese sushi restaurant. Just like most other kids, he wasn't very good at school, liked sports, and liked goofing off on the baseball fields whenever he could. Unlike most other kids, though, he was almost unnaturally talented at- well, everything he tried, really, but particularly baseball, to the point where he started neglecting everything else. He was well-liked by everyone in the school, friendly kid that he was, and known as the star of the Namimori baseball team- and hell, he was. What most people didn't really realize though, was that he defined himself by it. He made becoming a professional baseball player his only dream, his main drive and ambition in life, and threw himself into it with reckless abandon and it was more than a little unhealthy. One day after school, he was practicing- as always- and he managed to break his arm.
Of course it hurt, but that wasn't really the reason why he didn't take it well: he saw it as failure. He saw that he had reached his limit, tried to push past it, failed miserably, and he saw it as the disability for him to achieve his goals, the main thing in his life, and it didn't really matter what anyone else thought of him because he knew that wasn't good enough at all. And that sent him into a rapid downward spiral- the boy doesn't take failure very well- that eventually drove him onto the school roof, and may have well drove him off it to his death, if it wasn't for Tsuna. Tsuna helped him realize that he didn't need to define his life by something like baseball, that there were other things to living, and they've been best friends ever since, Yamamoto dedicating himself to the welfare of his friends.
But maybe it was dumb luck or destiny or the universe hating him, because the friends he chose to stick with happened to be in the Mafia or something? And maybe around that he realized, more than anyone else, how everything was poised to go steadily downhill, and they were getting involved in shit no sane fifteen-year-olds should, that the fucking Mafia was probably not something to mess with but- hey, they were his friends, he couldn't abandon them, right, and he laughed it off, like he always has, half-pretended he didn't understand when he really, really did.
After- well, failing, in a fight- he went to his father for help, and was promptly trained in kendo. Shigure Souen Ryu probably has the world's strictest learning requirements, but Yamamoto picked it up with relative ease, and pretty soon he was the rightful bearer of the Vongola Ring of Rain. And then- to put it simply- a lot of crazy shit happened, and he really should've backed out earlier or something but it's no use telling himself that because it's already too late and he'd never have backed out, anyway, he was doomed right from the start. So he kept laughing and faking his way through the Mafia, even as they got older, even has shit got more and more serious, even as their lives just became worse and worse and the distant threats looming on the horizon were becoming very close and very real. And by then they'd finally started to realize that he was never really smiling, but by then they understood, too.
It was only when Byakuran and the Millefiore just came right out and started attacking them, and then oops haha he fucked up right and one way or another things kept building up and up and up and then his father and Tsuna were both dead and everything went to hell. Driven completely underground by the Millefiore and living in hiding, with the soul-crushing guilt of the failure to protect his boss and his father hanging over his head, life was completely miserable for Yamamoto. But not everyone was dead, right, and they had to live on, had to persevere, had to protect the ones who remained, it's what Tsuna would've wanted. So he just put on a smile and carried on, even though all hope seemed lost, until one day he happened to run into his best friend. His best friend, except ten years from the past, accompanied by his boss, also ten years from the past, and very much alive.
They brought with them the Vongola rings, and maybe there was a chance after all, right, maybe even after he fucked up this much there was a chance of fixing it. So he accompanied them and told them of what's happened over the years, helped them start on their mission to gather the guardians, and was just helping them take care of some Millefiore thugs and it was just at that moment, ten years in the past, when his younger self decided to get hit with a ten year bazooka.
Normally this would mean he switched places with his younger self, and that's what he assumed happened. But well, he didn't exactly wake up in a Namimori of a simpler, happier time- instead, he found himself in what looked like a run-down... Baseball diamond?
Huh. Go figure.
Point in Canon: Chapter 142, upon being switched out for his younger self.
Character Personality:The first thing you'll ever notice about Yamamoto will be his smile. Because he's always smiling, and it's pretty disarming, and that's pretty much the kind of guy he is, on first impression. He's friendly, to the point when the concept of strangers sometimes just doesn't seem to exist in his worldview, and so easy-going that he'll treat you like a friend even if you have some kind of a personal vendetta against him. He's a little absent-minded, a little naive, the kind of guy who you'd look up to despite the dozens of little mistakes he tends to make in overlooking obvious details. People tend to like being around him- Yamamoto almost seems to manage to bring an atmosphere of easy-going calm everywhere he goes. No matter what the situation, he never falters, never panics- really, he's more likely to laugh and carry on as if nothing was different- he gives the sense of, in a way, always being in control of himself.
That's just one side of him, of course, and that's probably the only part of him you'll ever know.
Unless you go a little deeper, unless you're one of the few people that Yamamoto actually gives a shit about, and then maybe you'll start to see what he's really like. He's always laughing, always smiling, sure- he almost never gets angry, never loses his head, but there's an edge to his smile, a kind of emptiness to his laughter. You might begin to realize that Yamamoto's just the kind of guy who keeps his emotions so intensely under control that you have no idea what he's actually feeling, what he's actually thinking, and it doesn't feel like you'd ever, ever find out, because all you ever see is that smile. But really, that isn't too bad either, right, because lots of people like that- tons of people choose not to keep their thoughts and feelings to themselves rather than burden the rest of the world. He might take it a little far, but, what's the harm in that, right?
Until you realize he's like that all the time. All the damn time, with a gun pressed up against his forehead, or one in his hand pointing at whatever happened to need shooting this time. He could be pissed, he could be miserable, could be apathetic, could be damn bleeding on the floor half to death and barely clinging to life and he still doesn't say anything different, just smiles and laughs it all off. Because, well- Yamamoto learned a long time ago that life was fucked up, his more than most, and it'd always been like that, since he was a kid. He didn't think about it, just pretended it was okay, because as long as he could still laugh everything must be okay, right? But it wasn't, it never was, and as time wore on it's just been proven more and more- so he's still pretending, to this very day. Except it's much less- naive, much less genuine. It's bitter, and when you can see it, it cuts like a knife. But most of the time you'll never even know, never even be able to tell. He keeps smiling because he's okay, and he doesn't need anyone to worry about him, doesn't need to burden them with his fucked up life, and doesn't need anyone to fight his battles. He can take care of himself.
Another thing about Yamamoto: he's talented. He's a gifted athlete, a quick learner, and people tend to look up to him- but he doesn't think that. Infact, Yamamoto has never been able to shake the deep-seated belief that he's a complete and miserable failure. He knows he has immense potential, but it seems to him that no matter what he does always messes up, he could always have done better. He has no idea how to draw his own limits, and doesn't even seem to understand the idea of it- if need be, he'll just push himself until he breaks rather than turn away. His drive to succeed at everything he does is immense, and he has enough willpower to move mountains- but he just expects absolutely nothing but the best from himself, and almost everything isn't enough. He pours his heart and soul into everything he does, because, well. Honestly- Yamamoto's not who he was as a kid, anymore- he's got much narrower focus, for example, and only cares about so few things, so few people. And for them it doesn't make sense to go anything but all the way. And if he ever fails? It has all the makings of disaster- for all his apparent control and easy-going calm, Yamamoto is incapable of handling failure.
Yamamoto is nothing if not loyal, and he would go to the ends of the Earth for his fucked up little family. He takes his relationships with people to heart- he does put a great deal of effort into protecting those that he doesn't know that well, too, but the moment any of the people in his inner circle are so much as threatened he won't hesitate to drop everything and throw himself head-first into whatever it takes to defend them. They're not helpless, he knows, but he can't help it- it's an instinctive defensiveness that he can't shake, and he wouldn't want to if he could. There may have been a time, many years ago, when he had nothing to center his life on- but his friends gave him that, and he owes them much more than he could ever possibly repay for that one thing. He's protective, almost to a dangerous point, simply because in his eyes his own well-being is not even anywhere near as important as those of his friends- if they're in danger, he can turn out to be quite reckless. He plays by the rules, and has a strong sense of morals and honour- but he won't even stop to think about the consequences of throwing them all out the window if that's what he needs to save his friends. Family is important. Friendships are important. None of it is any laughing matter, not to him.
And yet he still manages to wrap it all up under a stupid smile, still manages to act like a clueless idiot. Sometimes he does it just to screw around with people, really, and it does lend itself to his advantage (people tend to underestimate him), even his closest friends can never tell for sure if he's just bullshitting or not. He's just spent so much of his life pretending that the truth sometimes lacks meaning, that you can't tell it apart. But, really, sometimes he really was just that careless. Things tend to sail over his head- he's capable of processing the bigger picture good enough, but little details- no matter how important they actually are- sort of slide past him, and he may consider them trivial.
So that's it- Yamamoto Takeshi, in a nutshell. A bundle of issues and overprotective hypocrisies wrapped up into a neat little package and topped off with a smile so damn disarming you'd never guess at all the shit that goes on underneath. But hey, there's nothing wrong with that, right? It doesn't matter if he's secretly capable of being a massive douchebag. He'll still treat you nicely, do you favours, buy you sushi- better yet, make you sushi. He's good at that part.
Character Plans: He may seem a little out of place, at first, but Yamamoto's bound to adapt to things before very long -- he's never been the type to panic, rather take everything in his stride with a smile. He's far too noble to ever want to do much for either corporations within Siren's Port, but reality is reality, and if it becomes necessary Yamamoto's more than capable of sliding himself into either, or both, with a stronger leaning for AGI, but he'll do everything in his power to avoid having to do anything morally objectionable. He is, after all, a member of the Italian mafia -- he knows how these organizations work, and will be able to fit himself in.
Appearance/PB: IMAGE HERE.
Yamamoto looks pretty unremarkable, all things considered- short black hair that tends to stick up in odd directions, a small scar on his chin. He's very much a fan of formal attire, going absolutely everywhere in a suit and tie, although it'd be a cold day in hell when his collar's done up properly and the tie isn't a complete mess. He's slightly taller than average and has an athletic build- he would look intimidating, but there's still that smile, permanently plastered across his face, and instead manages to look perfectly approachable. The kind of guy you might actually wave at when you pass him on the street, instead of just staring straight ahead and ignoring his existence.
Writing Samples
First Person SampleVOICE;
[ Silence.
Just silence and static for a long while, even though the transmission is on and running. What you can't see is one Yamamoto Takeshi holding the wonderful little peice of technology that's just been dropped into his hand, looking around, glancing at it, staring blankly, trying to figure out what the fucking hell just happened because the bazooka went off and this isn't what's supposed to happen, this isn't where he's supposed to be.
And then he just laughs.
It sounds warm, friendly, even a little-- apologetic. ]
Ah, haha -- hello?
Hey, is anyone there?
[ His voice sounds like he's an adult. And yet there's just that slight tone to it, cheerful and carefree with a touch of naivete, and maybe if you listened hard enough it isn't all there is, but one thing's pretty clear: he sounds absolutely clueless.
He's even tapping the microphone a little, trying to get attention. ]
I think I took a wrong turn somewhere. And I found this [ tap tap tap ] in my pocket -- ?
Third Person SampleIt was dark.
It was dark, the streets were empty, and the air was filled with the kind of silence that cut like a knife, pressed against your collarbone. The kind of atmosphere that wound around your neck, tightened against your throat, the kind of feeling that could just drive mad with fear anyone too weak to withstand it, but. Yamamoto's just kind of used to it, by now.
And even in the daytime, when the sun was bright and blazing across the seemingly peaceful town wrought with fear and tension (ohmygodwhoaretheywhyaretheydoingthiswilltheycomeformeohmygodohmygod), no one dared to leave their houses- only if they had to, and even then not for long. People could be attacked, captured, killed, seemingly at random, and being anywhere but locked tightly in your home at night was suicidal, but. Yamamoto's kind of used to that, too.
Haha. It's home, after all.
It's an abandoned building, somewhere in the middle of Namimori, miles away from any of the entrances to the Vongola base, but the journey's worth it. It's cold, on the rooftop, a chilling wind blowing about his hair. It's duty. It's obligation. It's fucking suicidal and risky and insane but he does it anyway because someone has to, because he has to, because the people aren't as safe as they think they are hidden in their bedrooms but he'd rather let them hope, than tell them the truth. He's fighting. They're fighting. The Vongola are fighting, but- they're losing. People would be kidnapped, fights would break out, things would be stolen and broken into almost at random but it isn't, the Millefiore have a plan, they just- have no fucking idea what it is. At all. Because, seriously, only the Vongola familglia really have any notion of nobility and mercy, and now the Mafia's been dragged to the forefront, out of the shadows, and they're the only thing standing between Namimori and the Millefiore.
They're far from invincible.
Yamamoto just watches the roads, lights cutting into the shadows of corners and alleys, quiet and still- but he knows that the streets are anything but silent, anything but unmoving. He hears people talk, sometimes, about how it never used to be there, about how it never used to be like this. About how there were happier, brighter days when there was no Mafia, no threat of death lurking just beyond the door, but he just shakes his head. It's always been here. He's always known. Always.
( The only difference now, is- he's not the only one who does. )
He leans his arms over the railing, waits for the sun to rise- and he smiles.
"Looks like a slow night."
No one's there. It's just him, just him and that silence that was going to tear his throat out if he turned his back on it for just one second, and he's just talking to himself, really. Because there's nothing else to do, nothing else to say, smiling because he always does, because he can, and that must mean everything's okay, right? So he just laughs, quietly, to himself, and watches his breath spiral upwards into nothing.
It's kind of cold, too, haha.