Tommy

Character: Enshi Rank: Jōnin Enshi is a Leaf-nin but has reputation issues due to PvP, so he gets bullied by the Konoha Big Boys. He is also kind enough to attach a postcard! And flowers! And chocolate!

Please @ Tommy!

Forename: Enshi (meaning far-sighted) Surname: Hyūga Gender: Male Age: 21 years old Height: 5’11 (1.80 m) Weight: 175 lb (80 kg) Hair colour: Black Eye colour: Lilac Birthplace: Land of Fire Enshi is a young, leanly-built man of average stature. Fervent in maintaining both mind and body, his growing frame is taut with thin coils of muscle. He stands with a slight slouch owing to an absence of quality sleep. His hands are clean and unsullied, which betray an iron grip. Enshi’s arms and legs are slim yet robust; a stark display of the athleticism he honed through rigorous daily training. Strong, rounded shoulders sit wide from his torso. His back is tapered towards his hips with great definition of sinew throughout. Despite the dark circles painting his eyelids, Enshi's features are classically handsome. He boasts a sleek jawline with cheekbones high and pronounced behind a fair complexion. Subtle, well-spread lips lie beneath a modest nose and his facial hair is kept cleanly shaven. Enshi’s most alluring features, however, are his eyes: their hollow, faded tincture defies the embers of ambition that smoulder within - a ceaseless pursuit that forms the crux of his being. Enshi’s glum, black hair is dishevelled and sweeps wildly across his scalp. Medium-sized bangs border the sides of his temples, and braided through the bottom of their strands hang two cobalt-coloured trinkets. His hair remains styled with no product in spite of his vanity. Living a childhood of poverty, Enshi was fascinated with the wealth of those more fortunate than him. This once whimsical attraction transformed into an luxurious obsession, causing Enshi to commit crimes from petty theft to extortion. His left ear is pierced with an array of silver and he wears a simple ring upon his first finger as a memento from his father. The mass of beads and trinkets he adorns are mostly stolen. Born and bred with the coaching of the Hyūga clan, Enshi is an intuitive fighter even amongst his peers. A thinker foremost, the young man thrives as a strategist and negotiator. He is a selfish yet empathetic individual. From an early age the hardships and poverty Enshi faced shaped his priorities: he remains loyal to his family and to himself. Regardless, the young man is often arrested by a compulsion to help those beneath him. Throughout life, Enshi has been at odds with authority - blaming the incessant greed of the Feudal Lords and major clans for the destitution found in the world. Honesty is not always his policy of choice, and a silver-tongue has proven useful to the Hyūga in navigating his way out of sticky situations. His tone of speech is languid but precise. His innate indifference tends to betray a wider range of complex thought and emotion, making Enshi a hard book to read. In spite of this stoic countenance, Enshi is whimsical in nature and seeks the thrill of adrenaline wherever he can find it.

“STOP! STOP THAT BOY AT ONCE!” A pompous screech strained above the hustle and bustle of the busy market street. Pots, stands and tables crashed to the cobblestone as a small child barrelled through them, clutching a regal-looking purse tight to his chest. All manner of produce clattered to the floor, spoiling the pavement and filling the cracks. The boy was quick. He darted underneath the legs of the patrons, ducking and diving his way through the crowd as they gawked on in confusion. At this point, the man he robbed was nowhere to be seen; a hurried glance over his shoulder confirmed that much. He bolted towards the open gates which led to his grassy freedom ahead. A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of the boy’s lips as he hurled past them… “Agh!” Something heavy struck his legs and he bowled over, tumbling violently into the dirt road. “Tchh-.. ow…” Bloodied and bruised by his sudden collapse, Enshi laid rolled onto his back with the support of his elbows. A familiar Jōnin stared at him with indifference, and so the boy stared back. “Give it back, Enshi.” His tone lagged with boredom, as if this was the hundredth time he had caught the boy. “Fine.” Enshi snapped, tossing the precious purse into the Jōnin's chest with some force. He caught it with ease, when out from behind him pranced a proud man bearing kingly posture and a look of sour lemons. “You’re supposed to guard this town! You nearly let this dirty little thief escape…” The rich man spat at his saviour, voice laced with venom. He snatched his purse from the Jōnin before continuing his tirade. “I expect better from our shinobi. I always knew you were a rag-tag diddle of fools!” With that final revilement, he swivelled upon his imperious heels and marched back down the upturned marketplace. The Jōnin paid no mind to the man’s spite as he sauntered off, instead turning to the boy… …who, by now, had scampered well out of sight. “Curses… it's EMPTY! GUAAAARDDSS!” The plump, pompous man cried, spittle flying as he stomped his feet and sulked at his limp purse. That loathsome howling was the last thing Enshi heard as he flung himself through the dense brush, coin clinking colourfully in his pockets. Adrenaline riddled the youth and he giggled with glee, practically skipping the whole way home. “Knock knock…?” He called in a sing-song tone. Enshi eventually came upon a decrepit shack of a home. He rapped his knuckles against the aged oak door and, without a welcome, entered into a dimly lit room. His father lay dormant in bed, illuminated by a smattering of wax-dripping candles. Ragged fur sheets struggled to cover his frail and sickly frame as Enshi’s mother nursed him with a cool cloth about his temples. “Mother, here… I have enough for the medicine!” Enshi scrambled through his pockets for the money and offered it to his mother with great enthusiasm. It was a fair sum, more than enough to pay off the extensive medical costs they faced. “Enshi. Where did you find this?” His mother sounded unimpressed, disappointed with his prize, yet unaware or unaffected by the suffering that surrounded them… as if this had become normality. Enshi began to quiver, recognising his own guilt but also the necessity of his actions.. “We are an honest family, Enshi. Please, go to the Leaf. I will take care of your father.” Enshi rejected the chance to become a shinobi for years, feeling responsible for the care of his parents. He was physically gifted and more than capable - but his conscience never allowed him to abandon them. “If you become a strong and honest shinobi, you can help provide for us.” His mother spoke firmly, denying his outstretched palms and turning back to her husband. She wiped his forehead again. He stirred uncomfortably in his slumber. Grinding his teeth as tears brimmed in his pale, plum coloured eyes, it dawned on Enshi that he would be unable to fight his fate. He dumped the coin back into his pocket and took a solemn glance around the dank room before whispering a shaky farewell. The door groaned shut behind Enshi. The sun shimmered above, momentarily blinding him. Wind gently whistled and billowed with the trees - it felt as though even the leaves warned him not to stay. He set off with no spring in his step. "Shinobi..."

my oldest friend... beautiful stuff.

Eh, forum rank isn't a medal. ...likes, however...

I like to allow role-play to shape my characters so I start them off relatively fresh.

Lore for the clans in Shinobi Story differs heavily from what you see in Naruto. No clan will be “stronger” than the other in terms of ability, though you might be able to make a case for the Sharingan. Check the tabs at the top-right of the forums for our Lore Guide!

Hopefully I’ll have a more “adventurous” story up tonight! Baby Yoroi says hi.

As a story, I really enjoyed this. You’re clearly seasoned and it shows in your writing. The mix of long and short sentences is a favoured technique of mine, too. I think it’s great for pacing. To offer some criticism, I feel like you’re being needlessly complex in parts: Your opener should be strong in a story like this. Everyone here (I should hope) knows what a kunai is. I don’t think as many people know what an octahedron is. This feels like unnecessary description to me. I’ve highlighted the text in bold because I think you’re missing a word, too. Topped by an octahedron-esque what? Here’s an example of how you could shorten that first paragraph and retain the jist of what you’re trying to say: This ‘issue’ of over-complication props up throughout your writing. There is a time and place for verbose language and if I was to give you one piece of advice, it would be to pick your moments. Furthermore, your paragraphs are very long and can appear daunting to read through. The easy fix here is to break them up or take advantage of your long/short sentence structuring. To wrap up, I like what you got! I hope you find my rambling of use.

Great looking template - love the formatting. Will be stealing some of this for my own!

Happy to pay for any damages. ? Thanks, Batra. More-ice-than-soda is the worst.

The support is appreciated, looking forward to reading all your cards... with my ocular perceivers. ?

Forename: Yoroi Surname: Tenshin Nickname: Sparrow Gender: Male Age: 17 years old Height: 5’11 (1.80 m) Weight: 165 lb (74 kg) Hair colour: Pale Blonde Eye colour: Light Blue Birthplace: Land of Fire Heritage: Sarutobi With the image to match his natural charm, Yoroi boasts a sleek jawline moored in thin but taut muscle. His cheekbones are high and pronounced beneath pale skin. Subtle, well-spread lips lie beneath a modest nose and his facial hair is kept cleanly shaven. Amongst the young sparrow’s most striking features are his eyes. Their faded blue complexion appears hollow; yet deep within, daring embers of greatness gently smoulder. This ambition forms the very crux of his being. Passionate in maintaining form of mind & body, Yoroi’s growing frame is roped in lean coils of muscle. He stands confidently with broad shoulders and appropriate posture. His arms and legs are relatively slender, lending him an athletic appearance. His hands are calloused and often grazed as a result of his preferred training methods. A simple tattoo - conjured in the image of a sparrow - straddles the width of his right shoulder. Yoroi’s pale, silvered locks are layered and flow thick behind & besides his scalp. Long bangs frame the sides of his temples, and braided through the bottom of their strands hang two, small cerulean-coloured trinkets. Whilst living impoverished, Yoroi grew an appetite for luxury. This once whimsical attraction has since developed into a callous appetite for wealth, leading Yoroi to commit crimes such as petty thievery. His left ear is pierced with a set of solid onyx bands and he wears rings of varying size on his fingers. The mass of beads and trinkets adorned upon the young sparrow are mostly stolen, save for the few suspended within his hair that came as a gift from his mother. Learnt as part of a childhood ritual, Yoroi crushes the husks of walnut trees to make a black dye and paint his eyelids. The young sparrow uses this process as a mental ‘switch’ of sorts: allowing him intense focus by embracing a second ‘self’. Born and bred with the beliefs of the Sarutobi clan, Yoroi is an intuitive fighter. A thinker foremost, the young sparrow thrives as a strategist and negotiator. He has an appreciation for all manner of artistry, with a preference for music and specifically wartime percussion. A vain yet charismatic ambience surrounds the boy. His tone of speech is languid but precise; although honesty is not always his policy of choice. Yoroi feels at odds with authority, blaming the ceaseless greed of the Feudal Lords and major clans for the destitution in the world. The sparrow is proud and, at times, selfish. Having little contact with a caring family, Yoroi has been forced to prioritise himself. Each action is considered with his own benefit, though this fierce loyalty has been extended to a select few. When calm, Yoroi is a well-spoken and polite individual. His innate stoicism tends to betray a wider range of complex thought and emotion, making the boy hard to read. Despite this apathetic countenance, Yoroi is whimsical in nature and loves the thrill of adrenaline. TBD WIP

‘I was like every other child.’ “Kei! Quickly!” Cried the medics, their frantic voices struggling above a furious storm. A lanky, hooded figure shouldered through the flap of a cramped tent as it billowed with the rain. The tent was damp and lit by a smattering of wax-dribbled candles; dim lights swayed with the raging storm, shadows danced across the room... The whistling of wind pierced a comfortable silence. “Tell me she’ll be okay!” Tarou barked at the nurses; a crack in his voice betraying his usual stoicism. Large, calloused hands softly entwined about his wife’s, offering some semblance of comfort. “She’ll live.” The hooded man intruded before kneeling next to the woman. A scream of pain that should have shot through the night was instead drowned by a terrible crash of thunder. ‘I don’t know what my first thought was… But it was surely cold.’ The troupe of Iryo-nin flocked to their patient as she shrieked and squirmed; she was giving birth. Suddenly, a striking emerald sheen shimmered outwards from Kei’s palms, and the sheer splendour of his chakra seized the sights of the surrounding shinobi. He brought his weathered hands to a hover above the writhing woman and she became buried in quiet colour... Screams turned to groans... Groans turned to silence… Silence. The soft, melodious hum of the Mystical Palm bathed the very air... A sharp wail struck the room like a tuneless chord. “It’s a boy.” Grumbled Kei, and the greenish gleam about his outstretched hands found itself scattered in thin streaks of fading brilliance. With a final and ferocious clap of thunder, the parting storm gave way to a deluge of rain. The heavy patter pounded against the crown of the tent, threatening to crash in. My father wrapped me tight in a rough fur blanket and laid me in the cradle of my mother’s arms. “Yoroi…”