Jounin TemplatePersonal Information~Name: Uchiha Vroat
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Village: Konohagakure
Appearance Information~Height: 6’0
Weight: 67 kg
Appearance Being his mysterious self many things remain unknown about the Uchiha leader among the top rumor giving things is to be found, the question of his appearance. Hardly anyone, or even no one, knows at this point in time what the Uchiha Clean leader looks like. He is always cloaked in his black cloak, wearing black pants and boots which further his mysterious appearance. The only part of his face that is not cloaked is his mouth, jaw and part of his neck. On his chin a few hairs can be seen which show that the Uchiha clan leader is certainly out of his teenage years by now. Him standing at 6’0 feet and weighting a mere 67kg he is agile and his body would probably show very few air resistance, but due to his cloak that possible advantage is naught.
[This will be updated once his true appearance is uncovered.]
Personality Information~Personality Description:Due to the mysteriousness of the Uchiha Clan leader’s person, his personality is also yet to be unveiled. His intentions and his aims, are yet to be revealed. One thing that is known is that he cares a lot of his Clan’s members and other people who are close to him. Despite that he still refrains from exposing himself to anyone, what intention that has is unknown of course. His clan politics are honest though and he happens to be able to solve many conflicts with words and forming pacts with other clans and villages.
[Will also be updated once the truth is uncovered]
Likes: The day, The Night, His Famiglia, books, the Sharingan’s secrets, booze
Dislikes: Arrogant Kages, people who think they’re awesome, broken slaves, scientists who act intelligent but have the capabilities of a fly, Cats
Job: Clan Leader
Skill Information~Rank: Jounin
Bloodline: Uchiha
Elements: Katon, Raiton
Class: Seal Master
Strength and Weaknesses~Strength: Normal
Chakra: Normal
Speed & Agility: Strong
Dexterity: Normal
Intelligence: Weak
History~History: It is known that the Uchiha clan leader was born within Konoha more than twenty years ago. His age is thus assumed to be roughly thirty years. Who his parents were and if he has any connection to former Clan Leaders or prodigies of the clan is unknown. What is known is that there was an Uchiha roughly fifteen years ago who happened to have attained the Tamoe three Sharingan and was on par with the second strongest Uchiha at that time and was said to be a threat to the Clan leader of that time. That Clan Leader naturally wouldn’t have wanted to just give up his seat to a twelve year old – who had no ambition to become clan leader at that time by the way. As such that Uchiha was told to have been exiled or eventually assassinated in conjunction with the Hidden Leaf Village.
Some people assume that the current Uchiha Clan leader is exactly that boy who has attained a new level of power even greater than the Sharingan alone. That are only assumptions because the current Uchiha clan leader is a man of mystery. Some even have doubted if he isn’t just a very flat-chested woman.
[Will naturally be updated once the identity has been clarified]
RP test~The story would unfold at a quickening pace as the young boy stood before a court of high-ranking Shinobi. One a man of great power, with muscles trained to the brink of snapping, a tan like that of a maximum pigmented and with hairs that ever so perfectly fit that shade of the man’s skin. He was filled to the brink with anger and disgust towards the boy standing before him and would ever so acceptably tend to rip the boy apart, if it was up to him to decide. It was not up to that man to decide and as such, the boy was not ripped in half. The next one was a man of superior age to any other person present at that time. The old man was sitting in the middle of the court and was most likely to be the one to declare the judgement to which the boy would be put. The man’s face, it was the face of a man who had long grown tired of the world he spent his days in and his face clearly showed the many fights he had witnessed, maybe even participated. His eyes told no tales of a compassionate Shinobi who had achieved greatness by skill and hard work, but they spoke words that eventually faded into oblivion as that man would too despite the undeniable strength he must possess or must once have possessed. The last one was one young thing. It was a Kunoichi. She was known for her seduction skills and rumors did have it at that time that she only received her rank due to being seductive and decimating the people who could oppose her with just those skills. The thing about rumors is that they have close to no truthful value and as such it would not matter how she had received her rank, for she had held it for almost a decade by then.
The room in which the court was located.. to say the least it was not the common court room one would imagine it would be. Quite differently, indeed. The room must have once been various different rooms which’s walls were tore down in order to make the place more spacious. Eventually even a floor above was broken down to give off some kind of message that could be thrown into the area of ‘Look at this room as the world.. and we are all just small inhabitants of it…’ or something even more cliché. The room had a single fireplace in which the fire was burning and the smoke was going out the way Santa Claus enters homes. There were a few single bookshelves put against every other wall, or they were laying on the ground. It appeared almost as if there had been a fight going on before the boy had arrived in that far too large room for just the few in it. There were a few empty leather chairs behind and to the side of where the three adults and the boy were sitting. Those four were also all sitting in a leather chair each. The woman was sitting in a lewd manner, her voluptuous breasts about to pop out of her top which barely covered her chest area anyway. Her hair was blonde and her eyes brown, her lips were a natural pink, but they seemed to be taken care of very well. Also she was wearing a long skirt that was cut up in a weird pattern though, possibly also in order for her strategy to seduce her enemies to work more easily, of course she could just be a slut too. The man with muscles like a bull was almost bold, he had but a few strains of dreaded hair to the sides of his head, the upper part of his head was shaved or he had already lost his hair in that area. That man did not wear much, but merely a muscle shirt in the color of white… One could even see his nipples staring due to the white color of the shirt not being well with concealing things. He wore black pants and he did in all honesty resemble a bald monk more than a Shinobi – this assumption was even enhanced by the totally non-casual way the man was sitting. The old man was sitting in the middle of the two, as stated before. He was old and his hair was as white as it could be. It was a bit extreme in matters of length, but it looked soft and very well combed nonetheless. The old man’s hair went down to the end of his neck, at least what little remnants he still had. He also carried around a beard on his face that covered most of his neck as well. He must have never heard of a knife that could also be used in order to shave. He was wearing the traditional clothing that fit his rank. It was a long robe in white, except for the area which marked his village’s symbol. A triangle-shaped hat was resting on the old man’s legs and he was sitting in a lazy manner. His lower body was mostly resting on the chair while his back made a curve and only his shoulder blades rested a little against the chair’s back. He was leaning his right elbow onto the right arm of the chair on which he was sitting. He had made a fist unto which he rested his right cheek. The three of them were Kages and not just any Kages, but the only kages there were remaining at that time of the era. The boy sitting at the other side was staring at the three kages in a manner that could hardly be put into words. The boy’s eyes were cold and yet they were nothing like the eyes of a psychopath who had the ability to regret. That boy’s eyes told of bloodshed and of revolutions, of secrecy and assassination. Those eyes were not eyes that held the glow of passion or compassion. Mercy was something those eyes had never seen and yet, why did those eyes seem so endlessly sorrowful and just that much empty? The Kages did not know the answer to that and they would never know either, the truth was that the boy had almost no chance of leaving that room alive, the truth was that even if he would leave the room alive… he would never see the light of the day again.
In a sudden rush, the old man stood up. The other two Kages stood up as well, the boy remained sitting on those few letters which were his name. The ascended Kage wet his dry lips with a quick whip of his old tongue, for the briefness of a moment one could see that the old man still had teeth that could be put to use very well. Maybe he was just trying to fool the people all around the world with his aged appearance – who knew? The old man began to speak the words that by now controlled the thoughts of the people in villages:
“Why?” … No that was not it. That question was long out of sight. What the old man said would not be a mere word or even a only a mere sentence, or maybe two which would be more than enough to finally reveal the judgement the boy would receive for the deeds he had done. No, quite the opposite. The old man said the following:
“Boy… You have been born, but twelve years ago. Tell us the story behind those eyes… Tell us what lead you into the claws of destruction and how those claws came to become your fists that brought the world pestilence…”, the shock of the other two Kages was nothing to come unexpected for the old kage, but he was a man of wise and surely not of sudden actions and even less fond of such judgements. Then the shock had sunk low down and the three kages again took their seats which were the leather chairs explained previously. Once they had regained a comfortable position, the boy began to tell the story which was requested, hiding not a fact that was to come from him.
“Born I was within the lands that were not even close to the sacred lands which my forefathers had always searched to protect. The opposite was much the truth. I was born abroad within the land of the Sun, in a forest which my family had grown attached to because they were a similar type of wood as that of my ancestors. I was born a Senju, but unlike most others in that ‘once-upon-a-time’ clan, I did not have the same classical abilities that nowadays everyone seemed to have. I could not combine the elements of water and earth, the two elements of life and create life – Wood. Of course, my father disliked to have such a son at first, but as I grew and eventually turned five years of age and began to show the potential he had always dreamt of, he appreciated my helplessness in the matter of elemental composition due to my uprising potential that seemed to never sway from the sake of going forward.
My father. He was a great Mokuton user and as a gift towards my mother when asking for her hand, he leveled a whole part of the sacred forest only to re-awaken it by using his abilities. He called that part of the forest after my mother and told her that it was only able to be called after her because he made that part of the forest himself. Of course… he was much of an idiot as well. What little of the traditions of the Senju at that time he knew, he simply ignored to have sex with my mother. They never even were able to marry in the traditions of the clan. Hehe… What complete waste. After all, he died protecting the forest with his life as bandits or Shinobi forces – we never came about to figure out – attacked the forest. Obviously most of the forest was burnt down and most if not all of the Senju were driven out of the forest in search for a new home. He died the death of a martyr, or that of an idiot, it was and is still dependant on the point of view of the one who makes that judgement. I had always believed that he died the death of a hero, trying to protect those who banished and exiled him from the sacred lands of his family. When he was still just a lad, only few older than me now, he went on a big journey with others of the clan. He always told me the tale of how he supposedly found a different land with the others. A land full of demons and evil-willed spirits, a land that was laid and left in ruins. It supposedly was a cold land and it was never proven that he told the truth… However, he could always calm me down by telling me not to worry about demons coming to eat me or mommy, because he was there and he would slay them for he was a warrior. At least that is what he always told me at those times and within seconds my fear was gone.
Opposing to that statement of his, he died there at the forest and once the bandits or Shinobi, whoever it was that attacked them there, had not found what they had been searching for, they left the lands and went into hiding. I was five years old at the time of that attack and my father only appreciated my potential and thus my existence as a worthy Senju for hardly half a year. It was autumn and I was already finished with the work around the house and on our little fields back then. My mother was still working on the fields that were only a little off to the south of our house. She had remained single even after my father had been dead for two years, what unquenchable love. However, she would soon meet him again as she was hit while doing manual labour. I could only watch her corpse fall to the ground as the sun was slowly setting. What came afterwards was a troop of Shinobi who were also the killers of my father, what lucky coincidence it was. They never cared for either of the two, after all everything they had been after was little me. Their leader was a Senju as well and he knew that the son of my father, which would be me, must possess or come to possess even greater skills than his father and since his father had never been someone to control easily, or at all, they decided that they should just get the kid. They promised me young lad to bring back my parents with forbidden ninjutsu techniques if I would just join their group of a few dozen of men. From that point onwards I was taught by various members of that band of destruction and pestilence. I learnt a lot.. and forgot a lot.. Everything that didn’t have exceeding value, had no value. Anything that did not lead me a step closer towards bringing my beloved mother back, or even my father was an oblivious bit of information that held no value at all.
The next few years were packed with robbery, plundering… or pillaging as they called it. It was nothing but an invasion to the grounds of helpless farmers who had no chance against a bundle of bloodthirsty bandits who all held great strength. The first village we invaded… I was sent ahead to sneak into the house of some couple, befriend with them and then… ‘become a warrior’. They just wanted me to kill the couple and attract the attention of the villagers in order to then be able to come in and attack them when the villagers had no idea there were more enemies coming from their backs. They always loved the look on the face of a man when he saw his woman get stabbed with a kunai in the neck, while she still screamed and begged for mercy, she usually quieted down once they satisfied their beastly instincts and desires to create descendants. Often they just did corpses though because they either didn’t hit the right spot to keep them alive long enough, or the females just died due to the pain, the blood loss and the psychological factors that came around with it. At the same time it got them even hornier when they saw the guy in shock, suddenly get his head cut off and the woman they were just violating screaming and kicking and resisting again. Whatever. That very first day, I was in a state of shock, but every single time we attacked another small farmer’s village, the scenery repeated and soon, I grew cold and my heart became stone. Stone that soon shattered and left an empty shell only meant to kill or be replaced. Like that I continued my life for the following three years, continually growing stronger and eventually becoming known among the ranks of those bandits for the power and heartlessness with which I carried out my tasks.
I was eleven, so last year, when we first marched towards a village. A band of bandits, hardly worth seventy men, marched towards a village… a Shinobi village. It was the village of Hoshigakure. It was over within a few hours of fighting. The civilians who could flee from the inside of the village were torn apart by the four men cell that had created an impenetrable barrier outside. On the inside.. Hahaha.. It was almost hilarious. The shinobi of the village first acted as teams, four men cells, dozens of them, or even more. There were so many, we didn’t even know what to do at first. But the leader soon gave us orders that made him appear as a kind of king of tacticians. He knew that no one would be able to resist the trance of promises that could be fulfilled. We had a few people in our battalions who were able to use hypnosis or something of that sort to pull out information of the four-men cells, or sometimes just cause a rebellion among the squads themselves and all we had to do then was reduce the remnants. Like that many, many died fighting among themselves. Those who remained and sometimes were able to break such a hypnosis were mostly Jounin or Jounin-leveled Shinobi and Kunoichi. But sadly.. a big amount of those Shinobi had become so attached to their own students that they couldn’t lay a finger on eleven-year old me. They died by my hands without putting up much of a fight. Others weren’t as light-hearted and very well fought with all their might. I was impaled by a lightning-based ninjutsu technique, but my other arm was free to go and I could perceive the line of attack of the Jounin quite easily since he wasn’t as fast he thought he was.. as such, a kunai right into the head, leaves even a Jounin to die. After a long time of battling and searching the remains of the village for goods and rations for the seventy odd men, we left the scene of destruction and moved onwards to another village.
You know the village I am talking about. It was the village hidden in the Sun, Taiyougakure. But they were already prepared for us and came out to play. They were disciplined, much more disciplined than 95 percent of the Shinobi in Hoshigakure. They appeared to be much, much more powerful and the battle dragged on… and on… We eventually left the site of battle with the few remaining people we began to run. We ran as far as our leader led us, but in the end… I ended that poor man. He had grown old… and frail. His tactical skill had led us right into death and in the end. We remaining folks all decided to go back to Taiyougakure and face the ones who thought to have already beat us. Everyone who was too scared to lose their life in battle, was ended right there in the shadow woods. You all know how it ended. The hardly twelve men and I were beat within minutes. Some of them died while they were transported here from poisoning or from starving. I don’t know… and have long stopped to care. I managed to survive and was thrown into a cell, my hands restrained and my chakra network was punctured every day anew by someone with very crazy eyes. Now, seven months later I sit in front of you and am the last remaining member of that group of bandits who eradicated Hoshigakure. What is it you will do with such a child?”
The kages were quick to decide and they decided that the only right decision was to send the boy to prison. They made up some stupid reason which held no truth and would hold no truth in the years the boy would share behind the imprisoning walls of a prison far in the north of the land of volcanoes which also held Kazangakure. The prison was located in an extremely dangerous volcanic region and only the top criminals of which the Shinobi world really wanted to get rid were sent there. The boy matured and eventually.. yes eventually….
A group of guards was walking along the hallway. They were searching for a specific captive, the reader of this history could already know who that felon would be. It would be the boy who has been the main protagonist in his own history so far. But let’s not get there already, let me first tell how the boy came to change while he was in prison.
The truth is that he change a lot more in appearance, than in his personality since the time he had wasted locked up could hardly change him as much as his past deeds and experiences. There were a few cases in which his sentence should have already been lifted in the past, but no village would take the boy in and the boy misbehaved to say the least. One of those cases was found half a year after the boy had arrived in the prison. He was brought to his cell. Every captive in that prison was kept by themselves to reduce the possibility of them plotting something and of them fighting or killing one another, for they all should rot away in the prison in which they were imprisoned. Now the traditions the boy had been taught along with foreign name forced the boy to wash himself on Saturdays. The guards did not mind at all, though they would have preferred if none of the convicts would ever wash themselves again as it would give them a feeling of being ‘clean’. Naturally everyone of the convicts was allowed to wash himself. However the boy did only wash himself on that one day. The other captives saw him as a dirty boy and once a group of theirs joined the boy’s washing on Saturday. Little could they know that the tradition was still kept up by the boy to honor his father, his mother and all of his ancestors and the gods and people of a foreign culture. The other captives, obviously famous once for their deeds in the land of volcanoes, happened to have raped various children in their past deeds. Stupid references to the boy’s age and how he must feel lonely further proved the assumption of the boy that those three who were attempting to drive him into a corner, indeed had pedophile preferences. The boy had by then slightly strayed from the ways he had been taught in the past by the group of bandits which he had joined, as he gave a warning to the three men. He spoke words of caution and the grown man would have been wise had they heed his words… Needless to say they did not. They forgot to use the brains or whatever slumbered within their thick skulls. After having spoke the warning words, the men still did not realize that they were confronted by their impending doom there. They asked his name and the boy, with a voice ever so clear, a voice that did not waver in the least, a voice that told of strength and those eyes which told tales of bloodshed and murder, spoke up :
”Thorgrimm, the Calm”. It was only then that the men realized that they were not talking to a simple boy who had been sent to that prison because he had stolen a few apples from a kage’s backyard or because he had burnt down a house or two, but before the men could realize what they were just doing, their arms had already been dislocated. In all honesty, the idiocy to attack that boy blindly without even thinking or realizing, could have meant much more pain for them. Half-dead the boy then left them behind in the washing room, for he did not simply stop at dislocating their arms, he exceeded the boundaries put upon him in that prison and was thus not permitted to leave his cell for half a year – he could still wash himself on Saturdays nonetheless.
Similar and even more gruesome stories continue to happen every now and then as the boy turned older. He did not make any friends in prison and wouldn’t have needed to make any either.
Now let us get back to the day I had began to describe previously:
The guards were walking downwards a hallway until they ended up in a lobby of sorts. It was where they met a most special guest. They accompanied the guest towards the cell in which the boy, who had by then grown to be a full-fledged men – though a little low with muscles one could think – was residing. The man was staring out through the window which he made for himself by punching his way through the stone walls over the duration of a three years. He stared outside and all he saw was just the court of the prison into which he was not allowed to leave. The guest who had specially came to visit the boy had a most intriguing offer and to take the answer beforehand, the man accepted the offer. The offer was simple : ‘Come to the new Hoshigakure and be a Chuunin, working on command and request alone.’ Those were all the requirements which the man had to agree to in order to leave that rotten place? There was no questions asked about drawbacks or anything of such a sort, but one thing was there which the boy wished to know. Who was that guest before him who made a request to the only survivor of the bandits who once laid the village into pieces? – It was the newly appointed Hoshikage Blake Lonzo who had read about the court in front of which the man was judged twenty years ago. Of course, having one of those people work for him would be most humorous and most humiliating for the man. Though the man did not care much and as such he was released on that day. However, until he arrived in Hoshigakure there was still a long way to go, a long journey, but the man did not have to worry. He was a captive still at that point in time, but not an imprisoned man anymore and most of all, he was able to breathe fresh air again and not the foul and rotten smell of the prison and the other convicts.
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Sat Jul 23, 2011 1:51 pm by 
