APP
PLAYER
NAME: Herit
PERSONAL LJ: herit
EMAIL/MESSENGER(S): Chabliya@gmail.com
CHARACTER
NAME: Okada Nizou
FANDOM: Gintama
TIMELINE PERIOD: Mid-Benizakura arc, right after stabbing Katsura.
BACKGROUND: Not much is known about his origins, other than that he was apparently born blind (while he is, however, able to see a little glimpse of light as he says, which he describes as being the light of a person's soul). Being a highly skilled swordsman, he encountered Takasugi one day after a fight, and pointing at the fun he took from destroying things, Takasugi suggested him to follow him. Seeing something in Takasugi's soul that he only knew from men in the moment of death, a light that was aggressive and firey but also filled with sorrow, he agreed.
He compares himself in his attachment to Takasugi to a moth drawn to a flame, which knows that it is burning in the flame, but would rather burn than live in darkness ever again. During the Benizakura arc, he loses an arm but also acquires the sword Benizakura - a weapon that was forged with the sole intent to kill - and allows it to fuse with his body. This slowly kills his body and drives him insane, but also grants him tremendous strength and fighting skill. He is aware of both, but wanting only to become a sword, he accepts it.
SAMPLES
THIRD PERSON:
The impact was anything but hasty. He knew what he was doing, and he knew the sensation as well as he knew the sensation of breathing; a clash of white sound, sharp and clear, and something softer, to wipe away the corrosion and sheathe his blade in comfort. It was soft and hot, a burn that faded away in a fast and gentle stream. It was a thing of beauty when he could see it: a small flare, angry and wild and raging in pain, torn up inside by voiceless grief and already cold like a grave. It gave him a certain satisfaction when it died away, although it died too quickly.
But not this time. This time, the searing cold flare remained, flickering with intensity and consuming madness, doomed apathy that seemed to suck him in. It was no different from normal, but it was a constant where a constant was a paradox. And all too late, caught in his fascination, he recognised footsteps. It was behind him.
The man did not need to start speaking. Anything he said was blurred and distorted, washed away by the current of his fire. He was a living dead, a will o' the wisp like the burning spirit of a dead man that could not fade - yet. It was intriguing and comforting, and beautiful and wrong; something that should not be and that drew him into the netherworld with a simple breath.
In his nostrils, the faint scent of blood suddenly gained a new taste. He exhaled, slow and full and deep, indulging the delectable finality of his last breath. His lips curled up into a grim smirk, and hoarsely, filled with the rage and death this man's fire permeated, he breathed, "Yes."
NOTES: No first person sample since I'm already playing here.
NAME: Herit
PERSONAL LJ: herit
EMAIL/MESSENGER(S): Chabliya@gmail.com
CHARACTER
NAME: Okada Nizou
FANDOM: Gintama
TIMELINE PERIOD: Mid-Benizakura arc, right after stabbing Katsura.
BACKGROUND: Not much is known about his origins, other than that he was apparently born blind (while he is, however, able to see a little glimpse of light as he says, which he describes as being the light of a person's soul). Being a highly skilled swordsman, he encountered Takasugi one day after a fight, and pointing at the fun he took from destroying things, Takasugi suggested him to follow him. Seeing something in Takasugi's soul that he only knew from men in the moment of death, a light that was aggressive and firey but also filled with sorrow, he agreed.
He compares himself in his attachment to Takasugi to a moth drawn to a flame, which knows that it is burning in the flame, but would rather burn than live in darkness ever again. During the Benizakura arc, he loses an arm but also acquires the sword Benizakura - a weapon that was forged with the sole intent to kill - and allows it to fuse with his body. This slowly kills his body and drives him insane, but also grants him tremendous strength and fighting skill. He is aware of both, but wanting only to become a sword, he accepts it.
SAMPLES
THIRD PERSON:
The impact was anything but hasty. He knew what he was doing, and he knew the sensation as well as he knew the sensation of breathing; a clash of white sound, sharp and clear, and something softer, to wipe away the corrosion and sheathe his blade in comfort. It was soft and hot, a burn that faded away in a fast and gentle stream. It was a thing of beauty when he could see it: a small flare, angry and wild and raging in pain, torn up inside by voiceless grief and already cold like a grave. It gave him a certain satisfaction when it died away, although it died too quickly.
But not this time. This time, the searing cold flare remained, flickering with intensity and consuming madness, doomed apathy that seemed to suck him in. It was no different from normal, but it was a constant where a constant was a paradox. And all too late, caught in his fascination, he recognised footsteps. It was behind him.
The man did not need to start speaking. Anything he said was blurred and distorted, washed away by the current of his fire. He was a living dead, a will o' the wisp like the burning spirit of a dead man that could not fade - yet. It was intriguing and comforting, and beautiful and wrong; something that should not be and that drew him into the netherworld with a simple breath.
In his nostrils, the faint scent of blood suddenly gained a new taste. He exhaled, slow and full and deep, indulging the delectable finality of his last breath. His lips curled up into a grim smirk, and hoarsely, filled with the rage and death this man's fire permeated, he breathed, "Yes."
NOTES: No first person sample since I'm already playing here.