AMAT Restart Application
At the current point Kenshin would be entering this game his sexuality is fairly dormant. He has no interest whatsoever in relationships or sex in the least. This is primarily because he is still mourning his late wife, but also because he fears the danger anyone is put in by association with him. The possibility of any person, not just a lover, being put in harms way because of his identity is a slight complex for him. The death of his first wife, no matter the complicated circumstances, will always be ingrained in his head as his fault because of her association with him (not to mention the fact that she fell by his own blade-but that’s… a slightly different topic), even though he learned after her death that the kidnapping and hostage situation had initially been a rouse. This makes it extremely difficult for him to become close to anyone on any level.
However, for the nature of this game, he will obviously be forced to do something of that nature. And at the end of the day, if he is forced to acknowledge his sexuality, he is 100% heterosexual. My justification for seeing him straight is simple: it’s cannon. By the end of the manga he has married twice, both times to women who he clearly loved more than life itself: the first he was willing to throw his life away to protect, the second whose voice brought him back from the brink of death for no other reason than that he had to return to her.
TL;DR: He’s uninterested in sex and relationships, but he’s straight when it comes down to it.
» Personality:
While the canon point I am requesting may make some think his personality would be vastly different, even during his days as Battousai, the core things that make Kenshin himself are still there, just buried behind iron walls that he built around himself to keep his life and sanity intact. However, whether he is curt or personable, the basic elements of his personality and core beliefs are still the same.
The most notable part of Kenshin’s personality is his fierce desire to protect the people around him. To him, this is the most important aspect of his life and has been his driving force probably from the moment he could first form thoughts. As early as seven years old (maybe ten--I keep getting conflicting info on his age at this event), he attempted to defend the three sisters in the caravan he was traveling in when they were attacked by bandits, despite the fact that he could barely even lift the sword he was attempting to protect them with.
The second most notable portion of Kenshin’s personality is his sheer stubbornness and refusal to give up, mentioned in the manga as the ability to allow the spirit to surpass the body. Once Kenshin has set his mind to something (generally the protection of another person) he will drive himself to succeed no matter what, no matter how injured his is, and no matter how logical it would be for him to have already succumbed to the pain of his injuries.
Aside from these things, Kenshin is, at his core, an extremely kind individual-even if, at this canon point, that gentleness is buried somewhat. Given the right sort of encounters that side of him that is so well known as the rurouni will still be seen in him. The scenes in the manga I always enjoy pointing out to cement this statement are the different scenes that show him playing with the village children from Otsu. For the most part he is fairly laid back-or to be more accurate at this canon point, subdued. He is fairly slow to anger and lets most trivial things that may cause others to be up at arms go fairly easily. There are primarily two types of situations that will bring out action by his part: the first is seeing any sort of oppression or abuse of power. This is the entire reason he joined the war to begin with: to create an era where the weak wouldn’t be oppressed by the strong. The second is when people start poking around in his personal life. There are two likely reactions to this: the first is comical angry flailing-fairly similar to the miniature fits he’s been known to throw at near 30. The more likely reaction, however, is biting short anger. It’s only been three years since the death of his wife, so the emotional wounds are still fresh, and as should be expected, if you poke a wounded animal, it’s probably going to attack. Depending on the situation I could see anything from a curt drop of a conversation to a punch being thrown.
To delve a bit deeper into this topic, the darkest part of Kenshin’s personality revolves around his role as the Ishin Shishi hitokiri, Battousai. The traits above, most notably gentleness and kindness, are not the traits one would expect to see in an assassin. And it has not gone without an affect on Kenshin. In his first year of service as an actual assassin, versus his later role as a mobile defender of the other Ishin Shishi, his gentle nature couldn't cope with the weight of his crimes and his mind was fastly shutting down into an empty mechanical state. One character commented at one point "He's been exceptionally good lately--he doesn't even give them time to scream anymore." He was fast on a road to becoming a completely soulless killer. At that point is when he met Yukishiro Tomoe, and without going into long detail in the history (as it's under the reference link), her contact--and more specifically her treatment of him as a regular man and not a demon or just a weapon--brought him back from the brink of that insanity. Of course, those familiar with the series know that he accidentally killed her (and that his tell-tale scar is at the center of that story). For as much as he was grateful to her, for as much as he loved her, for as much as he wanted to protect her, she wound up dying by his hands. There aren't words for the type of emotional pain something like that causes, and needless to say, at this point in time feeling that pain again is the most terrifying concept in the world to him. And so he builds up walls and wears masks to keep people from getting too close to him--for his protection and theirs. Later in life that mask becomes a happy clueless bumbling act, but at this point in time it is a deadened cold mask, one that meets attempts to break through it with head-on stubbornness or refusal, rather than distraction and deflection. Given enough time outside of a war-raged Kyoto he may develop some of his more notable 'rurouni' traits, but for now, he will come off as serious and aloof most of the time, with perhaps the occasional calm and friendly conversation pried out of him given the right conversationalist.
The last thing to note, and I'm not even sure it belongs under the personality, is that he has not put his vow into place yet. He made the vow to find a way to protect without killing once the war was over to Tomoe the night before she died, but he did not actually put it in place until after the battle of Toba-Fushimi, and shortly after that was given the sakabatou by Arai Shakku. However, even as Battousai, or at least this stage of being Battousai, he is not a heartless killer. He made the vow for a reason--because he did not want to do it anymore. Because life is precious. Life is to be valued. Life is to be protected. While he is still willing to kill in the end if it's necessary, it will be an absolute last resort. The image of Battousai that we see present day in the series (facing Jinei and Saitou) is a catalyst of everything that was the hitokiri in him, all of the negative things. In the ten years after the war his 'true self' and 'the hitokiri' managed to manastitize inside him, causing a literal split personality to surface in specific situations. This will not be happening to him at this point, as these two sides are still integrated with each other.
» Appearance: He is physically 18, though he may look slightly younger. 5'3, petite, feminine features. Red/orange hair that falls to the small of his back, worn in a high ponytail. Violet-blue eyes that seem steely at times, or gold when he is LIVID. (To quote an enemy from the Jinchuu arc 'it's true what they say about you, Battousai. Even the color of your eyes change when there's a woman involved.') Generally wears a blue gi/men's kimono and gray hakama. Carries a daisho: katana and wakizashi.
SAMPLES
» "amatomnes" Entry:
[Video-ignoring probability of the 19th century man… actually managing this…]
[A young red-haired Japanese man comes into view, an angry raw cross-shaped scar standing out boldly on his left cheek. His expression is cold and serious, though a slight hint of desperation might be visible behind his eyes.]
I need answers. Where is this place? How was I brought here-and more importantly, how do I get back. I don’t have time to dawdle here. The Ishin-Shishi need me. Katsura-san needs me. We’re too close for something like this to hinder us…
[There’s a slight growl, and a truly sour look manages to cross his face.]
And why do I find myself with this… collar on my person? Someone clearly has a death wish...
» "amatomneslogs" Entry:
Calloused fingers ran over the leather biting into his neck as his breath wheesed past the constriction. Ten days. He would be lying if he said that the tightness didn’t affect him. Even at its most slack on arrival he had to fight with himself to keep from clawing at it like some angry caged animal. Several minor cuts ran along the sides of his neck where he had attempted to slice the thing away with this wakizashi. It had been days since he could fit a finger under the strip. Days since he had been able to adjust its position. And now, he could feel it chafing the skin beneath it, probably rubbed raw and bleeding by now.
He had been told over and over again by now, what was needed to loosen the thing before it tightened so badly that it strangled the life out of him. He knew men who would have been able to do what was needed immediately. Who probably would have sought out female companionship their first night on the island for sheer habit over any actual need to survive.
His hand ran along the leather again, the strap promising slow painful death in just another four days. That was the consensus. No matter who he spoke with, no matter individual tolerances… fourteen days was the final limit.
He had started toa sk for assistance a number of times before it had gotten this bad… But every time he began speaking… He saw her face… and he couldn’t finish…
He was currently seated under a tree on the outskirts of the forest, his katana resting against his shoulder as he continued to war with himself. The network device he had been given on arrival sat close by, almost mocking him…
Every time he so much as thought of the acts needed to survive in this place… he saw her face… remembered being with her… and the thought of being intimate like that with anyone other than her… sickened him.
“You need to get laid, Himura.”
It seemed a regular topic at times among the other soldiers in regards to his aloofness. It was like a game. How far could they push a topic until it finally went past his tolerance level and he shut every conversation in the room down by popping his katana from the sheath. He scowled, hanging his head a little further, his grip on the sheath of his sword tightening. He wondered if they would be laughing to see him in this situation. It would probably be a regular riot.
Though really… if he was here… then he couldn’t be there…
So none of them were probably laughing at all.
They needed him…
And that brought an even more sour taste to his mouth. They were close… they were so close to destroying the bafuku… so close to the end… He could feel it… That new era he had had such lofty hopes for… that dream that had lured him into making such terrible decisions… that goal he had been willing to throw away his life, his mind, and his very soul for… it was within sight…
And he was here.
The thought brought an aggravated growl out of his throat, his hands going to a white-knuckle grip on the sword as his frustraition momentarily boiled over-but was short-lived as the sound itself and the air needed for it was mostly blocked by the restrictive collar, and he was left coughing and gasping for breath through an air passage that was too blocked off to allow him to recover-
-and he regained consciousness again a few minutes later, the side of his face pressed into the dirt under the tree, his sword still clasped in his hand.
“Kuso,” he cursed, breathing shallowly. He slowly pushed himself back up until he was leaning with his back against the tree again. He let his eyes fall shut, just sitting there and concentrating on breathing in the oxygen-deprived daze he was in now…
For a moment… he thought he felt hands on his shoulders… and arms wrapping around him. He knew there was nothing-no one-there… It was just his mind playing tricks on him in this state… but even if it was just a daydream brought on by nerves and sheer lack of sleep and… well… air… the thought was comforting. He would be lying if he hadn’t thought of the same thing countless times in the last three years.
Why are you doing this to yourself…?
He swallowed thickly past the collar, still hanging his head.
Why are you doing this…?
I… he thought at the non-existant voice.
I died trying to save your life… You’ll throw that away so easily…?
Even in his own mind, he couldn’t find the right words to answer her.
Then do whatever it is that needs to be done… Anata…
He opened his eyes again, huffing briefly through his nose. He just sat again for a long minute… before finally looking at that ‘network’ contraption again, before finally picking it up. He poked at the buttons until the little red light came on, just like how he was shown. He stared at it for several long seconds, wheezing, then finally spoke.
“I… need help… with this… damnable collar…,” his voice was broken every couple of words to allow for a small breath of air. “If someone… would be willing…”
However, for the nature of this game, he will obviously be forced to do something of that nature. And at the end of the day, if he is forced to acknowledge his sexuality, he is 100% heterosexual. My justification for seeing him straight is simple: it’s cannon. By the end of the manga he has married twice, both times to women who he clearly loved more than life itself: the first he was willing to throw his life away to protect, the second whose voice brought him back from the brink of death for no other reason than that he had to return to her.
TL;DR: He’s uninterested in sex and relationships, but he’s straight when it comes down to it.
» Personality:
While the canon point I am requesting may make some think his personality would be vastly different, even during his days as Battousai, the core things that make Kenshin himself are still there, just buried behind iron walls that he built around himself to keep his life and sanity intact. However, whether he is curt or personable, the basic elements of his personality and core beliefs are still the same.
The most notable part of Kenshin’s personality is his fierce desire to protect the people around him. To him, this is the most important aspect of his life and has been his driving force probably from the moment he could first form thoughts. As early as seven years old (maybe ten--I keep getting conflicting info on his age at this event), he attempted to defend the three sisters in the caravan he was traveling in when they were attacked by bandits, despite the fact that he could barely even lift the sword he was attempting to protect them with.
The second most notable portion of Kenshin’s personality is his sheer stubbornness and refusal to give up, mentioned in the manga as the ability to allow the spirit to surpass the body. Once Kenshin has set his mind to something (generally the protection of another person) he will drive himself to succeed no matter what, no matter how injured his is, and no matter how logical it would be for him to have already succumbed to the pain of his injuries.
Aside from these things, Kenshin is, at his core, an extremely kind individual-even if, at this canon point, that gentleness is buried somewhat. Given the right sort of encounters that side of him that is so well known as the rurouni will still be seen in him. The scenes in the manga I always enjoy pointing out to cement this statement are the different scenes that show him playing with the village children from Otsu. For the most part he is fairly laid back-or to be more accurate at this canon point, subdued. He is fairly slow to anger and lets most trivial things that may cause others to be up at arms go fairly easily. There are primarily two types of situations that will bring out action by his part: the first is seeing any sort of oppression or abuse of power. This is the entire reason he joined the war to begin with: to create an era where the weak wouldn’t be oppressed by the strong. The second is when people start poking around in his personal life. There are two likely reactions to this: the first is comical angry flailing-fairly similar to the miniature fits he’s been known to throw at near 30. The more likely reaction, however, is biting short anger. It’s only been three years since the death of his wife, so the emotional wounds are still fresh, and as should be expected, if you poke a wounded animal, it’s probably going to attack. Depending on the situation I could see anything from a curt drop of a conversation to a punch being thrown.
To delve a bit deeper into this topic, the darkest part of Kenshin’s personality revolves around his role as the Ishin Shishi hitokiri, Battousai. The traits above, most notably gentleness and kindness, are not the traits one would expect to see in an assassin. And it has not gone without an affect on Kenshin. In his first year of service as an actual assassin, versus his later role as a mobile defender of the other Ishin Shishi, his gentle nature couldn't cope with the weight of his crimes and his mind was fastly shutting down into an empty mechanical state. One character commented at one point "He's been exceptionally good lately--he doesn't even give them time to scream anymore." He was fast on a road to becoming a completely soulless killer. At that point is when he met Yukishiro Tomoe, and without going into long detail in the history (as it's under the reference link), her contact--and more specifically her treatment of him as a regular man and not a demon or just a weapon--brought him back from the brink of that insanity. Of course, those familiar with the series know that he accidentally killed her (and that his tell-tale scar is at the center of that story). For as much as he was grateful to her, for as much as he loved her, for as much as he wanted to protect her, she wound up dying by his hands. There aren't words for the type of emotional pain something like that causes, and needless to say, at this point in time feeling that pain again is the most terrifying concept in the world to him. And so he builds up walls and wears masks to keep people from getting too close to him--for his protection and theirs. Later in life that mask becomes a happy clueless bumbling act, but at this point in time it is a deadened cold mask, one that meets attempts to break through it with head-on stubbornness or refusal, rather than distraction and deflection. Given enough time outside of a war-raged Kyoto he may develop some of his more notable 'rurouni' traits, but for now, he will come off as serious and aloof most of the time, with perhaps the occasional calm and friendly conversation pried out of him given the right conversationalist.
The last thing to note, and I'm not even sure it belongs under the personality, is that he has not put his vow into place yet. He made the vow to find a way to protect without killing once the war was over to Tomoe the night before she died, but he did not actually put it in place until after the battle of Toba-Fushimi, and shortly after that was given the sakabatou by Arai Shakku. However, even as Battousai, or at least this stage of being Battousai, he is not a heartless killer. He made the vow for a reason--because he did not want to do it anymore. Because life is precious. Life is to be valued. Life is to be protected. While he is still willing to kill in the end if it's necessary, it will be an absolute last resort. The image of Battousai that we see present day in the series (facing Jinei and Saitou) is a catalyst of everything that was the hitokiri in him, all of the negative things. In the ten years after the war his 'true self' and 'the hitokiri' managed to manastitize inside him, causing a literal split personality to surface in specific situations. This will not be happening to him at this point, as these two sides are still integrated with each other.
» Appearance: He is physically 18, though he may look slightly younger. 5'3, petite, feminine features. Red/orange hair that falls to the small of his back, worn in a high ponytail. Violet-blue eyes that seem steely at times, or gold when he is LIVID. (To quote an enemy from the Jinchuu arc 'it's true what they say about you, Battousai. Even the color of your eyes change when there's a woman involved.') Generally wears a blue gi/men's kimono and gray hakama. Carries a daisho: katana and wakizashi.
SAMPLES
» "amatomnes" Entry:
[Video-ignoring probability of the 19th century man… actually managing this…]
[A young red-haired Japanese man comes into view, an angry raw cross-shaped scar standing out boldly on his left cheek. His expression is cold and serious, though a slight hint of desperation might be visible behind his eyes.]
I need answers. Where is this place? How was I brought here-and more importantly, how do I get back. I don’t have time to dawdle here. The Ishin-Shishi need me. Katsura-san needs me. We’re too close for something like this to hinder us…
[There’s a slight growl, and a truly sour look manages to cross his face.]
And why do I find myself with this… collar on my person? Someone clearly has a death wish...
» "amatomneslogs" Entry:
Calloused fingers ran over the leather biting into his neck as his breath wheesed past the constriction. Ten days. He would be lying if he said that the tightness didn’t affect him. Even at its most slack on arrival he had to fight with himself to keep from clawing at it like some angry caged animal. Several minor cuts ran along the sides of his neck where he had attempted to slice the thing away with this wakizashi. It had been days since he could fit a finger under the strip. Days since he had been able to adjust its position. And now, he could feel it chafing the skin beneath it, probably rubbed raw and bleeding by now.
He had been told over and over again by now, what was needed to loosen the thing before it tightened so badly that it strangled the life out of him. He knew men who would have been able to do what was needed immediately. Who probably would have sought out female companionship their first night on the island for sheer habit over any actual need to survive.
His hand ran along the leather again, the strap promising slow painful death in just another four days. That was the consensus. No matter who he spoke with, no matter individual tolerances… fourteen days was the final limit.
He had started toa sk for assistance a number of times before it had gotten this bad… But every time he began speaking… He saw her face… and he couldn’t finish…
He was currently seated under a tree on the outskirts of the forest, his katana resting against his shoulder as he continued to war with himself. The network device he had been given on arrival sat close by, almost mocking him…
Every time he so much as thought of the acts needed to survive in this place… he saw her face… remembered being with her… and the thought of being intimate like that with anyone other than her… sickened him.
“You need to get laid, Himura.”
It seemed a regular topic at times among the other soldiers in regards to his aloofness. It was like a game. How far could they push a topic until it finally went past his tolerance level and he shut every conversation in the room down by popping his katana from the sheath. He scowled, hanging his head a little further, his grip on the sheath of his sword tightening. He wondered if they would be laughing to see him in this situation. It would probably be a regular riot.
Though really… if he was here… then he couldn’t be there…
So none of them were probably laughing at all.
They needed him…
And that brought an even more sour taste to his mouth. They were close… they were so close to destroying the bafuku… so close to the end… He could feel it… That new era he had had such lofty hopes for… that dream that had lured him into making such terrible decisions… that goal he had been willing to throw away his life, his mind, and his very soul for… it was within sight…
And he was here.
The thought brought an aggravated growl out of his throat, his hands going to a white-knuckle grip on the sword as his frustraition momentarily boiled over-but was short-lived as the sound itself and the air needed for it was mostly blocked by the restrictive collar, and he was left coughing and gasping for breath through an air passage that was too blocked off to allow him to recover-
-and he regained consciousness again a few minutes later, the side of his face pressed into the dirt under the tree, his sword still clasped in his hand.
“Kuso,” he cursed, breathing shallowly. He slowly pushed himself back up until he was leaning with his back against the tree again. He let his eyes fall shut, just sitting there and concentrating on breathing in the oxygen-deprived daze he was in now…
For a moment… he thought he felt hands on his shoulders… and arms wrapping around him. He knew there was nothing-no one-there… It was just his mind playing tricks on him in this state… but even if it was just a daydream brought on by nerves and sheer lack of sleep and… well… air… the thought was comforting. He would be lying if he hadn’t thought of the same thing countless times in the last three years.
Why are you doing this to yourself…?
He swallowed thickly past the collar, still hanging his head.
Why are you doing this…?
I… he thought at the non-existant voice.
I died trying to save your life… You’ll throw that away so easily…?
Even in his own mind, he couldn’t find the right words to answer her.
Then do whatever it is that needs to be done… Anata…
He opened his eyes again, huffing briefly through his nose. He just sat again for a long minute… before finally looking at that ‘network’ contraption again, before finally picking it up. He poked at the buttons until the little red light came on, just like how he was shown. He stared at it for several long seconds, wheezing, then finally spoke.
“I… need help… with this… damnable collar…,” his voice was broken every couple of words to allow for a small breath of air. “If someone… would be willing…”