(no subject)
PLAYER
NAME: Senri
AGE: 20
PERSONAL LJ: senri
EMAIL ADDRESS: undead.invader@gmail.com
AIM SCREENAME: Sushiflop
EXPERIENCE RPing: 1 year at paradisa, stedelweiss, and since July here.
CHARACTER
NAME: Hidan
CANON SOURCE: Naruto
TIMELINE: Shortly after he was ushered out of the manga, blown into pieces and left at the bottom of a pit.
CANON ABILITIES: Hidan is effectively immortal, although it was revealed in the last databook that if he stops killing other people, his immortality will disappear. At any rate, in the manga it’s shown that he can survive basically anything - having his head cut off, being blown to pieces, massive blood loss, sucking chest wounds, etc etc. His primary weapon is a tri-blade scythe designed to increase the likelihood of inflicting a wound upon his enemy. This is because the slightest wound is all Hidan needs to work his rituals. Once blood is drawn, he ingests it and inscribes his ritual circle on the ground. This allows his transformation into curse form, where every injury inflicted on Hidan’s body will be mirrored on the body of the person whose blood he ingested. In this situation he apparently prefers to use a pike to inflict wounds upon himself, as it is more precise. He enjoys the suffering he inflicts upon himself, and watching his victims suffer.
Besides this exceptional trait, he has the skills of any Naruto-verse ninja. His ninjutsu is excellent, as well as his taijutsu. His strength is great, as well as his stamina. However, Hidan’s a bit of a blockhead, and not invulnerable to a brainy enemy who knows how to deal with his tricks.
PERSONALITY: Abrasive, abusive, foul-mouthed and loud, Hidan is a hard character to tolerate even at the best of times. He's a zealot, a sadist, a masochist, and prone to challenging authority figures, blithely uncaring as to what the consequences might be. He’s also not the sharpest crayon in the box; he doesn’t think the consequences of his actions through, which gets him into plenty of trouble with his partner as well as his enemies.
It’s not like Hidan hates eeeeeeeeveryone, though. In spite of their fractious relationship, he didn’t hate his partner; after all, Kakuzu sewed him up after every battle, ensuring that he could be on his feet again and slaughtering heathens as soon as possible. Plus, even though Kakuzu was as cranky and as old as fuck, and always rushing Hidan through his all-important rituals, he was a good counterbalance to Hidan’s significant weaknesses and had no problem with Hidan’s bloodthirsty nature. They didn’t hate each other as much as they let on.
So, he is capable of actually liking people. It just won’t ever actually be expressed in a healthy way. He’ll still pick, prod and bully as much as ever, but he’d actually be pretty (secretly) delighted to find someone that didn’t give way in fear of him. What this comes out to is he might end up with “favorite victims” of a sort that he’ll seek out to pick on and torment without actually having any intent to kill them… at the moment. He loves prideful people and strong people and nagging, bullying and scaring them. He’s a sort of blackly playful creature, really; if he finds a playmate that suits him, it’s not as though he’s just going to waste that.
And while he has a death wish in canon, I'd prefer to play it out in the Spider's Walk as more of a mad berserkers recklessness. In the thick of a fight, he doesn't care what's coming at him and he doesn't care what's getting at him; wounds and injuries really just egg him on. All he thinks about and all he really wants is to get his hands on whoever is throwing stuff at him. By all rights, he seems like he should've died years ago, and yet somehow he's still around and kicking. And since he's a bit of a dummkopf, he flaunts that a bit, but that arrogance hasn't seemed to bite him too badly yet, somehow.
CANON HISTORY: Very little of this was actually covered in the manga proper; most of Hidan’s supposed history was released in the last databook and is not fleshed out particularly well. At any rate, he’s apparently from Yugakure, the Village Hidden in the Steam, which was a shinobi village before it changed focus and became a prosperous tourist destination. Hidan wasn’t too keen on this switch, apparently; he killed off a bunch of his fellow villagers and left… to be a missing-nin and kill shit. Some time after this, he apparently agreed to become an experimental subject of the Jashinist sect. Their goal was to give him immortality. He was one of the (few?) successful candidates to survive the process.
One can basically guess that between leaving Yugakure and joining Akatsuki, Hidan wandered the elemental countries enjoying carnage and building a reputation as an impressive killer. It’s anyone’s guess as to whether he joins willingly or is shanghaied into the group, but Hidan ends up partnered with Kakuzu and becomes the other half of the ‘Zombie combie’, as the immortal duo is known. It couldn’t be said that the two men get along swimmingly by any means, but they are excellent compliments to each other and have great teamwork. They probably bring a lot of money and bounties in to Akatsuki before their fateful assignment to Konoha, where their mission is to kill Sarutobi Asuma.
It’s not that they aren’t successful with that first part - oh, Asuma definitely ends up dead. Unfortunately, this incurs the wrath of Asuma’s lazy genius student Shikamaru, who wants revenge for the death of his teacher.
Separated from his partner, Hidan is a much less effective fighter, and Shikamaru basically toys with him for a while before tripping the trap he’d set up long before they actually had their fight: a spiderweb of exploding tags surrounds Hidan, and when Shikamaru triggers them Hidan is both blown into pieces and dropped into a deep pit, where he’ll remain until his immortality wears off and he dies, inaccessible to Akatsuki.
HOW DIFFERENT DO YOU WANT THE MEMORIES TO BE FROM THEIR CANON? Hidan was raised in a highly traditional Catholic orphanage, but the nuns, strict as they were, were never able to entirely curb his foul-mouthed and violent tendencies, although they did manage to successfully instill a reverence for God and ritual within his crazy, reckless head.
He never knew who his parents were, naturally, and he never really cared; he was a terror to the other orphans, and took the punishments he received with gusto; he loved losing himself amongst the church pews as much as he loved picking at the other kids, stealing cigarettes, and fighting. He was always a fighter, from when he was a young orphan to when he was sixteen and striking out on his own, baby steps into the world of organized crime that he'd come to sincerely enjoy.
Four years later, Hidan is pretty much in the same situation plus some reputation as he was when he first took off on his own, and he likes it that way. He goes to church, gives a penny to the collection basket, prays with uncharacteristic silence, and he'll crack open heads with the same raw joy with which he loses himself in prayer. He's rarely seen without his rosary, and the only reason you see him without his switchblade is because he hides it very well. He's a kamikaze fighter with a lucky streak - although it seems like he should have died several times before hitting twenty years, he's still around and still kicking like the tough and (unknowingly) immortal motherfucker he is.
PLANS FOR YOUR CHARACTER: To be a thug for Fisk. To be a thug in general. To provide an opposing force for heroic characters.
SAMPLES
LOG SAMPLE:
JOURNAL SAMPLE: - father R. isnt that bad of a speaker but he could use a boost now and again cuz I could see fuckers getting real snoozy near the end ther. got better when singing, the piano player was real good, that deserves applause. chior makes up for r. being kind of a wash. penny in the collectn baskit, maybe Ill check back nxt week too.
note to self: tell R. he needs some more oomph if he wants to get people coming back. he getting to old for this???? maybe
need:
- cigarettes
- coffee
- bread
- wire
- new pliars (stop losing them motherfuck!!!)
NOTES: I realized when I got outside the shitty little hole (couldn't complain, it was free, and the lord had provided anyway in my hour of need) where Fisk was putting me up that I had lost my pliers again. It fucking laid me out, seriously, because it was the third pair of pliers in maybe as many weeks that I'd left behind. Sister Caroline always said I'd forget my own head if God hadn't stuck it on really fucking tight, but it always struck me as a bigger problem, losing shit.
Especially since I'd liked those pliers. They'd had rubber on the handles, real classy, that made it easier for me to keep my grip when I was really working on wrenching someone's fingernail out of its bed. They'd been kinda expensive, more than my usual choice, and I had been fucking sure when I left the scene that I had them wrapped up and put away nice and neat, the Sisters would have been proud, the way I kept my gear and my Bible put together everything in its proper place and season even in the shitty flea-ridden heathen little flophouse that I had to fucking deal with on this job. And I thought I'd put them away good enough, that I'd had 'em, only patting down my pockets now I couldn't see I hadn't, because they weren't there, the pointy, unfriendly little shape of 'em was not what I was feeling...
There was something else instead, in the pocket where I'd stuck 'em. Something I didn't think had been there before, and when I pulled it out - well, hell. I didn't bother with books and readings beyond the Good Book, the Best Book, so fuck if I knew where the little oilcloth-wrapped present came from. And hell if I knew where it got my name embossed all fancy on the cover.
"Piss off, numbnuts," I snapped to to the joe that tried to catch my attention at the door, elbowing him in his bony chest when he wouldn't let go of my sleeve, whining at me for something, I didn't know what, didn't give a fuck. I just went to my room and sat down on the bed, checked my Bible to make sure it was still there, my pocket to make sure the pliers hadn't got hidden somewhere in the cloth the way things did sometimes.
Seemed to me that trading a trusty pair of pliers for a fancy-schmancy suspicious book was a pretty fucking raw deal. I put the thing on the dresser to think about it for a while. It was nicer than everything else I had, except my rosary, and my Bible, of course. Worn around the corners and used hard when I'd picked it up, the Bible was still number one.
I heard about the Devil in books sometimes. The Devil in books, the Devil in bottles, the Devil in fiddles. I found my Bible first, flipped it open to where I had it marked with some newsprint and started reading. If I took a look in the gift-book today I'd make sure my soul was fucking heavy-fortified, first.
NAME: Senri
AGE: 20
PERSONAL LJ: senri
EMAIL ADDRESS: undead.invader@gmail.com
AIM SCREENAME: Sushiflop
EXPERIENCE RPing: 1 year at paradisa, stedelweiss, and since July here.
CHARACTER
NAME: Hidan
CANON SOURCE: Naruto
TIMELINE: Shortly after he was ushered out of the manga, blown into pieces and left at the bottom of a pit.
CANON ABILITIES: Hidan is effectively immortal, although it was revealed in the last databook that if he stops killing other people, his immortality will disappear. At any rate, in the manga it’s shown that he can survive basically anything - having his head cut off, being blown to pieces, massive blood loss, sucking chest wounds, etc etc. His primary weapon is a tri-blade scythe designed to increase the likelihood of inflicting a wound upon his enemy. This is because the slightest wound is all Hidan needs to work his rituals. Once blood is drawn, he ingests it and inscribes his ritual circle on the ground. This allows his transformation into curse form, where every injury inflicted on Hidan’s body will be mirrored on the body of the person whose blood he ingested. In this situation he apparently prefers to use a pike to inflict wounds upon himself, as it is more precise. He enjoys the suffering he inflicts upon himself, and watching his victims suffer.
Besides this exceptional trait, he has the skills of any Naruto-verse ninja. His ninjutsu is excellent, as well as his taijutsu. His strength is great, as well as his stamina. However, Hidan’s a bit of a blockhead, and not invulnerable to a brainy enemy who knows how to deal with his tricks.
PERSONALITY: Abrasive, abusive, foul-mouthed and loud, Hidan is a hard character to tolerate even at the best of times. He's a zealot, a sadist, a masochist, and prone to challenging authority figures, blithely uncaring as to what the consequences might be. He’s also not the sharpest crayon in the box; he doesn’t think the consequences of his actions through, which gets him into plenty of trouble with his partner as well as his enemies.
It’s not like Hidan hates eeeeeeeeveryone, though. In spite of their fractious relationship, he didn’t hate his partner; after all, Kakuzu sewed him up after every battle, ensuring that he could be on his feet again and slaughtering heathens as soon as possible. Plus, even though Kakuzu was as cranky and as old as fuck, and always rushing Hidan through his all-important rituals, he was a good counterbalance to Hidan’s significant weaknesses and had no problem with Hidan’s bloodthirsty nature. They didn’t hate each other as much as they let on.
So, he is capable of actually liking people. It just won’t ever actually be expressed in a healthy way. He’ll still pick, prod and bully as much as ever, but he’d actually be pretty (secretly) delighted to find someone that didn’t give way in fear of him. What this comes out to is he might end up with “favorite victims” of a sort that he’ll seek out to pick on and torment without actually having any intent to kill them… at the moment. He loves prideful people and strong people and nagging, bullying and scaring them. He’s a sort of blackly playful creature, really; if he finds a playmate that suits him, it’s not as though he’s just going to waste that.
And while he has a death wish in canon, I'd prefer to play it out in the Spider's Walk as more of a mad berserkers recklessness. In the thick of a fight, he doesn't care what's coming at him and he doesn't care what's getting at him; wounds and injuries really just egg him on. All he thinks about and all he really wants is to get his hands on whoever is throwing stuff at him. By all rights, he seems like he should've died years ago, and yet somehow he's still around and kicking. And since he's a bit of a dummkopf, he flaunts that a bit, but that arrogance hasn't seemed to bite him too badly yet, somehow.
CANON HISTORY: Very little of this was actually covered in the manga proper; most of Hidan’s supposed history was released in the last databook and is not fleshed out particularly well. At any rate, he’s apparently from Yugakure, the Village Hidden in the Steam, which was a shinobi village before it changed focus and became a prosperous tourist destination. Hidan wasn’t too keen on this switch, apparently; he killed off a bunch of his fellow villagers and left… to be a missing-nin and kill shit. Some time after this, he apparently agreed to become an experimental subject of the Jashinist sect. Their goal was to give him immortality. He was one of the (few?) successful candidates to survive the process.
One can basically guess that between leaving Yugakure and joining Akatsuki, Hidan wandered the elemental countries enjoying carnage and building a reputation as an impressive killer. It’s anyone’s guess as to whether he joins willingly or is shanghaied into the group, but Hidan ends up partnered with Kakuzu and becomes the other half of the ‘Zombie combie’, as the immortal duo is known. It couldn’t be said that the two men get along swimmingly by any means, but they are excellent compliments to each other and have great teamwork. They probably bring a lot of money and bounties in to Akatsuki before their fateful assignment to Konoha, where their mission is to kill Sarutobi Asuma.
It’s not that they aren’t successful with that first part - oh, Asuma definitely ends up dead. Unfortunately, this incurs the wrath of Asuma’s lazy genius student Shikamaru, who wants revenge for the death of his teacher.
Separated from his partner, Hidan is a much less effective fighter, and Shikamaru basically toys with him for a while before tripping the trap he’d set up long before they actually had their fight: a spiderweb of exploding tags surrounds Hidan, and when Shikamaru triggers them Hidan is both blown into pieces and dropped into a deep pit, where he’ll remain until his immortality wears off and he dies, inaccessible to Akatsuki.
HOW DIFFERENT DO YOU WANT THE MEMORIES TO BE FROM THEIR CANON? Hidan was raised in a highly traditional Catholic orphanage, but the nuns, strict as they were, were never able to entirely curb his foul-mouthed and violent tendencies, although they did manage to successfully instill a reverence for God and ritual within his crazy, reckless head.
He never knew who his parents were, naturally, and he never really cared; he was a terror to the other orphans, and took the punishments he received with gusto; he loved losing himself amongst the church pews as much as he loved picking at the other kids, stealing cigarettes, and fighting. He was always a fighter, from when he was a young orphan to when he was sixteen and striking out on his own, baby steps into the world of organized crime that he'd come to sincerely enjoy.
Four years later, Hidan is pretty much in the same situation plus some reputation as he was when he first took off on his own, and he likes it that way. He goes to church, gives a penny to the collection basket, prays with uncharacteristic silence, and he'll crack open heads with the same raw joy with which he loses himself in prayer. He's rarely seen without his rosary, and the only reason you see him without his switchblade is because he hides it very well. He's a kamikaze fighter with a lucky streak - although it seems like he should have died several times before hitting twenty years, he's still around and still kicking like the tough and (unknowingly) immortal motherfucker he is.
PLANS FOR YOUR CHARACTER: To be a thug for Fisk. To be a thug in general. To provide an opposing force for heroic characters.
SAMPLES
LOG SAMPLE:
JOURNAL SAMPLE: - father R. isnt that bad of a speaker but he could use a boost now and again cuz I could see fuckers getting real snoozy near the end ther. got better when singing, the piano player was real good, that deserves applause. chior makes up for r. being kind of a wash. penny in the collectn baskit, maybe Ill check back nxt week too.
note to self: tell R. he needs some more oomph if he wants to get people coming back. he getting to old for this???? maybe
need:
- cigarettes
- coffee
- bread
- wire
- new pliars (stop losing them motherfuck!!!)
NOTES: I realized when I got outside the shitty little hole (couldn't complain, it was free, and the lord had provided anyway in my hour of need) where Fisk was putting me up that I had lost my pliers again. It fucking laid me out, seriously, because it was the third pair of pliers in maybe as many weeks that I'd left behind. Sister Caroline always said I'd forget my own head if God hadn't stuck it on really fucking tight, but it always struck me as a bigger problem, losing shit.
Especially since I'd liked those pliers. They'd had rubber on the handles, real classy, that made it easier for me to keep my grip when I was really working on wrenching someone's fingernail out of its bed. They'd been kinda expensive, more than my usual choice, and I had been fucking sure when I left the scene that I had them wrapped up and put away nice and neat, the Sisters would have been proud, the way I kept my gear and my Bible put together everything in its proper place and season even in the shitty flea-ridden heathen little flophouse that I had to fucking deal with on this job. And I thought I'd put them away good enough, that I'd had 'em, only patting down my pockets now I couldn't see I hadn't, because they weren't there, the pointy, unfriendly little shape of 'em was not what I was feeling...
There was something else instead, in the pocket where I'd stuck 'em. Something I didn't think had been there before, and when I pulled it out - well, hell. I didn't bother with books and readings beyond the Good Book, the Best Book, so fuck if I knew where the little oilcloth-wrapped present came from. And hell if I knew where it got my name embossed all fancy on the cover.
"Piss off, numbnuts," I snapped to to the joe that tried to catch my attention at the door, elbowing him in his bony chest when he wouldn't let go of my sleeve, whining at me for something, I didn't know what, didn't give a fuck. I just went to my room and sat down on the bed, checked my Bible to make sure it was still there, my pocket to make sure the pliers hadn't got hidden somewhere in the cloth the way things did sometimes.
Seemed to me that trading a trusty pair of pliers for a fancy-schmancy suspicious book was a pretty fucking raw deal. I put the thing on the dresser to think about it for a while. It was nicer than everything else I had, except my rosary, and my Bible, of course. Worn around the corners and used hard when I'd picked it up, the Bible was still number one.
I heard about the Devil in books sometimes. The Devil in books, the Devil in bottles, the Devil in fiddles. I found my Bible first, flipped it open to where I had it marked with some newsprint and started reading. If I took a look in the gift-book today I'd make sure my soul was fucking heavy-fortified, first.