Personal Information~Name: Bellamy Law
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Village: Soragakure
Ninja Information~Rank: Chuunin
Main Class: Vanguard
Secondary Class Medic
First Element Raiton
Second Element Doton
Appearance and Personality~Picture: - Spoiler:
Personality: If there was ever a man to described a word, that would be Law and the word; composed. Nothing phases him. Nothing flusters him. He is extremely laid back, even in life threatening situations, smiling defiantly in face of death and flipping it off with attitude to spare. At times he is misattributed to be disoriented, lacking drive interest in his surroundings and ongoings, and even callous because of the cynic he portrays. Indeed, one could consider him a cruel skeptic given the general disregard he displays towards those unaffiliated with him. But such selective indifference should not be translated as an uninterested, or unmotivated, demeanor.
While most would assume for a man of such a disposition to be the quiet, nondescript sort, but such may not be attributed towards Law. Rather he is a far more competitive, resolute and daring individual than he lets on with a penchant for challenging the odds and winning regularly, not afraid to venture out of the boundaries of any plan or strategy, easily 'improvising' new ones as he goes along. Yet, he hardly seems reckless. Rather, a brilliant yet audacious tactician whose true plan (or motive) remains a mystery; an enigma, utterly unpredictable till the very last moment till everything seems to fall into place.
While most of his traits write him off as a borderline villainous character, there is a lighter side to the man known as Law. He is quite carefree and at times careless about the sentiments of those around him, preferring to be blunt over diplomatic, with rather dark sense of humor and even though he doesn't purposefully try to be one, he comes across as a bit of a jerk at times due to his straight forward mannerism. And yet he can appear to care for someone other than himself and even perform random acts of kindness out of the blue, resulting in the formation of mixed opinions about him. A fact attributed to his tendency to follow his own code and sense of honor, rather than blindly conform to societal norms, which lands him in a moral gray zone.
Justu~-Genjutsu Kai
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Chakra Enhanced Strength-
Chakura no Mesu-
Lightning Blade-
Kage Bunshin no JutsuWeapons~- Medical Kit x1
- Exploding Tag -XL-
- Flash Tag
- Ninja Wire
- Chakra Conductive Nodachi
History(optional)~History: Its been a while since he last thought about his past. Most of the time, all he can recollect are some foggy memories off middle-aged man with shaggy black hair laying listless about a broken down shack and the strong stench of alcohol. Thats about it. None of it is pleasant, and not being able to remember doesn't help either. After all, why would his mind choose to bring back memories it took years to repress. For him, his life had begun that day. The first day he remembers clearly.
"Hiding inside a wooden cabinet, the door nearly off its hinges, creaking as it fought against the wind blowing in through the open window. The shack was in shambles, nearly torn apart by the gale force winds clawing away at its trembling carcass. Through the crack between the doors his eyes fell upon metal glinting wickedly in the moonlight, the shadows assuming the shape of a demon; a beast with wild, flowing hair and big, bulky arms with spear-like blades where his hands should have been. His heart skipped a beat as the silhouette turned towards him, its eyes white. No sign of an iris. It stepped closer. Thunder cackled outside. Rain and hail pounded the wooden structure like the sound of a thousand soldiers marching to war. Terror gripped his heart, terror that knew no reason. He knew he was alone. In the dark. Facing something that should have appeared only in his worst nightmares. And all he had in his hands was triangular piece of glass, fashioned like blade, stained with the blood from his palms. Then a sense of understanding took over. He understood that death was here and he could do one of two things. Cower in fear and resign to his fate, or fight. He had a choice. To wait for death, or fight it with the that sliver of hope that he might manage to get away. For a seven year old, the choice was obvious. So naturally, he chose to try and defy death itself as he charged out of the cabinet towards the bestial silhouette, shard in hand, prepared for the worst. And then, everything went blank and the last thing he remembered were two hands seemingly reaching out to him as he descended into the void beyond. Finally, he fainted.
He woke up after what felt like days, to the same eyes. The same hands placing towels moistened with cold water over forehead. Instinctively, he tried to back away but his hands betrayed him. His legs weren't cooperative either. It seemed that he had no life left in him at all. Just enough energy to let out a muffled scream before he fainted again. The next time he woke up, there was no one near him. He was alone in that room, with a single window looking out over the mountains, or their snowy caps, under the moonlit night sky. Stars dotted about the boundless heavens, forming constellations he had never seen before. Where he was, was at a higher altitude. Knowing that didn't help much, but it was something. Better than nothing. Comforting more than anything else. He tried getting up, but he could only make it as far as sitting upright, and even that took all the energy he had. Standing up was out of the question. Calling out was no good either. Every time he inhaled with his mouth, he felt a painful sensation along his throat. What the hell was happening? Where was he? Who brought him here? Why did his throat hurt? Was he throat fucked while he was asleep? So many questions, and with his head pounding as bad as it was, he felt his hands give away and fell right back onto the pillow and before he could even resist, his eyelids closed down over his eyes and he went right back to sleep.
The next time his eyes opened, it was morning. Possibly the next morning after that night or quite possibly a week after that night. He had no way of knowing. But now he had enough energy to stand. It was painful considering how cramps his muscles were, but he stood up, stretched, careful not to crease the gown he was wearing, and walked out of the room. He'd decided that whoever it was that brought him here, had saved his life. So it was unlikely that they would try to kill him now. They had a lot of time to do so as he slept. Considering that, it was probably better to find the person who had brought him here. Besides, he wasn't going to get very far in that condition anyhow. He didn't have to walk too far. As he walked by the second room to the corridor, he noticed a window that looked over a courtyard. And in that courtyard was a man, sitting deep in meditation. A regular person would probably leave the man alone to finish whatever it was he was doing. But then again, Law was hardly in a situation where he had the luxury to behave as a normal person would. Jumping out the window, a three ft drop, he cautiously walked towards the man. He was roughly ten feet away when the man spoke, in a deep but gentle voice. He asked him who he was, to which Law had no response. He said that he remembered being called 'Lao' once. He thought it was the voice of a friend. Probably confusing it for the word 'Law', the man bestowed upon the nameless boy an identity. He told him what had happened that night. How he had been sent on border patrol and had encountered a band of rogues who sought to pillage the settlement at the base of the valley. He diagnosed the lack of memory to be due to some sort of severe shock he received, and attempting to pry no further. For all he knew the memory that had been repressed had been repressed for a reason. Perhaps it was to painful for him, capable of unhinging the psyche of the young boy. A boy who seemed to be staring fearlessly towards him. He asked him how was it that he could look at him without a shred of fear in his eyes. Law simply replied "I have nothing to lose. Not even a name of my own."
The man, who had no family left, adopted the boy. Why? Maybe he felt pity. Maybe he admired his spunk. Maybe he was a pedophile who got off of scarred young boys. He never told him why. And Law never asked. He was grateful enough as it was and even though he didn't trust the man, he thought it was best to accept. As time passed he grew more and more trusting of the man, Yammamoto Hyuuga. He learnt that he was currently situated at Soragakure, the Village not so well Hidden in the Sky. His adoptive father, a 67 year old Jounin, admitted the lad to the village shinobi academy. The three years that followed were the best of his life, that he could remember that is. Ah the fun he had. Beating a kid half to death with sock. Shoving a stick up the teachers ass just to see how far up it can go without permanently damaging the digestive tract. Kids gotta learn, don't they? Time passed, and he gained quite a reputation as a trouble maker. But considering he was the adoptive son of one a great shinobi and that said shinobi was hardly ever home, he got away with most of it.
Three years later, when he was 10, he graduated from the academy second in his class. It was about this time that Yama had retired and seemed to succumb to a depressive state of being. It hadn't been his choice to retire but they said he'd served far more than his share and he deserved to spend the rest of his years in peace. The truth of it was, that he was too old to be of any use to them now. A 'relic' the younger ones had called him. And it was true. He was suffering from a medical condition, the cure to which had been unknown at the time it had developed within him, and now it had progressed to a stage where it could not be treated. It was a muscular condition, where if he over-strained himself he could suffer from a seizure and die. It'd been almost three years since then and his health, physical and mental, had not been getting any better. Physically, he hand be reduced to a condition where exerting himself beyond an hour would result in crippling pain. As far as his mental health was concerned he'd become irritable, cynical and and overall pessimist. Even Law, who'd been his pride since the day he'd taken him in, felt its effect. Yama would pick out even the tinniest of mistakes in his training. Scold him for things that hardly mattered. He would even refuse any help from the lad, as if accepting it would imply he had resigned to his fate. Little by little, the child inside Law started to die. Gradually, the cynic he is today was forged.
Age eventually took its toll on old Yama and as he passed away, he left everything he owned to the fifteen year old chuunin including a letter, apologizing for his behavior telling him that what he could never say, he has written down. Over the years, the details of that letter have become foggy. But he remembers the last sentence. It told him to be strong and to keep moving forward. He made peace with the passing of the old man and lived by those words. There hasn't been a day he allowed his past to hold him back.
Sat Jul 23, 2011 1:51 pm by 
