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Shun · (This post was last modified: 09-07-2009, 09:53 PM by Vad.)

Hey there,

I been considering coming back for a while now. Trynna understand what kinda...pushed me away in the first place. Then it occurred to me, despite what some people believe. I think I need'a change my custom. I just can't be Takeshi anymore. I thought maybe it was the image thing, maybe something I was working fo could've been changed...nope. I'd liek a change...

I understand the penalties for a switch and honestly, I have no problem with them.

New Character
Name: Vincent
Race: Furyan/Human
Age: 25
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Construction Worker
Fighting Style: Unorthodox
Starting Abilities: Ki Specialization; Elemental Ki - Earth

Brief Bio:
A soldier turned civilian. Vincent was once the proud member of an elite squad, a special unit. The kind of group that existed but didn't all at the same time. His years in service would've never ended had he been given the choice. As fate would have it though, one disastrous mission was all it took for his group to be split. Each of them spread across the globe to keep any bit of evidence hidden from the eyes of another.

Three years has passed since the time of split. Nothing is left of his past, merely his memories as he resides in the outskirts of East City. Vin passes his days as a common construction worker. Having actually built his own home with the use of only trees, making his house an actual lodge.

Brief Description:
Weighing roughly 180 pounds, Vin is far from a Mr. Universe, but possesses the peak athletic strength and endurance of a man who regularly engages in intensive physical exercise. His body is cut and lean.

Vincent is caucasian, having blond locks that he often keeps tied back in a pony tail. His clothing style is more of a comfort thing, as long as he's comfortable he couldn't care lass about what's in style. A black tee, cargo pants and Tims are what his wardrobe consists of.

Sample RP:
"What the fuck man?"

“Where’d the hell they come from?!” Vincent shouted with his back to the nearest obstruction he could find. Breathing elevated because of the excitement as ki whizzed through the air like there was no tomorrow. Mimicking a 21 gun salute, just reaching a much more dangerous extreme.

The column to his back was concrete, solid enough to provide cover but lacking the strength needed to become a formidable fort. He’d be forced to move once it was blown to bits, which could’ve honestly been at any second.

“Why didn’t you warn me or sumthin, bro? What the fuck, yo?” He was grilled by his current ally, a friend he’d come to know through the job. Your average worker who enjoyed nothing better than a cold beer and a football game, so it was obvious he wasn’t enjoying this little predicament.

“Warn you? As if I know when shit just happens…” The hybrid responded sarcastically, “You gotta be kiddin’ me right?”

“Nah bro, you got those earth powers an’ shit. I know you must’ve felt them through the floor or somthin. At the least you fuckin heard them creepin, tell me you didn’t hear them creepin..”

“You’ve gotta be on suttin, man. This ain’t a movie, this is real life shit. Step out and get shot. See what happens. I was never able to do dat type of shit.” At his sentence end the barrage of ki began to die down. Joe, his friend, went to speak. A hand signal and glare from Vincent advised he refrained. It would’ve ruined everything. Vin knew the next step. If trained well, if trained at all. Men would be sent to sweep. That’s when they could strike.

Surely enough the sweep was soon aborted; men heard shouting orders in a foreign language as the sirens of the first patrol car made its way down the street. Car doors slammed and rubber burned out as assailants fled the scene. Vinny considered doing the same, then reminded himself he had no car. “Lets disappear. We don’t need the cops findin’ us at a site after-hours.” Joe nodded in agreement, body still shaking from the entire ordeal.

A cigarette box was pulled from Vin’s left pant pocket, a bogey from inside it before it was returned to the confines of the same pocket. With it to his lips Joe’s lighter found its way to him, sparking it as he began to inhale. Then with the first pull he removed the cigarette and uttered. “I told you to stop sellin’ crack, asshole.”