07-07-2012, 04:49 AM
Name: Usul
Age:12
Race: Part Saiyan Part Human
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Unemployed
Fighting Style: aggressive, determined
Short Bio: Abandoned at birth by a sayian father too shameful to accept his sons human blood and by a mother who wouldn't take on the responsibility of motherhood, Usul was found on the wayside by a traveling band of monks making their way from one village to the next. They took the boy in, feed him and clothed him, and when he was old enough, trained him. His sayian blood helped him quickly surpass their training and he left their care soon after, thankful for their kindness but burning with an urge to find those who had left him to die. His mother, he thought, would be allowed to live, but to find her father, she was his only hope.
General Description: Usul is short, no more than 5'4" on a good day. He has short spiky black hair that sticks up on end. He wears a black gi with an orange undershirt. The back and breast symbol are those of the monks that took him in.
Starting Abilities: Ki Specialization, Ki Sense
Trait: Tenacious, and Defiant. If I cant do both just Defiant then.
Stats: (all must be a combined total of 100%, with the exception of choosing Inner Strengh as an Ability, which gives you an extra 15%)
Strength - 15%
Focus - 35%
Endurance - 25%
Agility - 25%
Role-play Sample:
The monks had been kind to the boy. He wasn't all that thankful when he left however. They had trained him, fed him, and clothed him, for that he was thankful. However something urgent called him. He knew what he had to do. Everything in his training, everything the monks had taught him had lead up to this moment. His mother, the lady that had given birth to him, the one that had abandoned him on that country road all those years ago.
He had a picture, one she had given him when he was just a baby, one in which he had held on to for this very day. Her day of atonement, her time to pay for all her transgression. She would live, that much he was sure of. The truth from her lips was much more important than her blood. He didn’t know where she lived exactly, but he did know the road he was found on. The monks had been that kind at least. Slowly he made his way up the hill, the tree tops slowly coming into view over the crest of the hill.
He slowed, noticing how he had begun to speed up due to his anticipation. He rounded the hill top and reached inside his gi towards his heart. From within his hand clentched around an 8x10 glossy photo of the woman who had given him up nearly 10 years ago. He studied it once more, not like he needed to. He used to stare at it to fall asleep, wondering how anyone as beautiful as the lady in the picture could have given up a baby such as himself. He peered up from the picture, his eyes meeting those of a lady in her fourties. Her hair was pulled tight in a bun atop her head. There were slight wrinkles under her eyes as she peered over her garden, but her look was unmistakable…mother.
“Joseph…” She uttered. The boy took a step back…was that his name, his birth name? No he thought…it didn’t matter what she called him.
“My name is Usul…Mother”
If I get accepted I would like to use this as a prolouge in my first post, if that is allowed.
Age:12
Race: Part Saiyan Part Human
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Unemployed
Fighting Style: aggressive, determined
Short Bio: Abandoned at birth by a sayian father too shameful to accept his sons human blood and by a mother who wouldn't take on the responsibility of motherhood, Usul was found on the wayside by a traveling band of monks making their way from one village to the next. They took the boy in, feed him and clothed him, and when he was old enough, trained him. His sayian blood helped him quickly surpass their training and he left their care soon after, thankful for their kindness but burning with an urge to find those who had left him to die. His mother, he thought, would be allowed to live, but to find her father, she was his only hope.
General Description: Usul is short, no more than 5'4" on a good day. He has short spiky black hair that sticks up on end. He wears a black gi with an orange undershirt. The back and breast symbol are those of the monks that took him in.
Starting Abilities: Ki Specialization, Ki Sense
Trait: Tenacious, and Defiant. If I cant do both just Defiant then.
Stats: (all must be a combined total of 100%, with the exception of choosing Inner Strengh as an Ability, which gives you an extra 15%)
Strength - 15%
Focus - 35%
Endurance - 25%
Agility - 25%
Role-play Sample:
The monks had been kind to the boy. He wasn't all that thankful when he left however. They had trained him, fed him, and clothed him, for that he was thankful. However something urgent called him. He knew what he had to do. Everything in his training, everything the monks had taught him had lead up to this moment. His mother, the lady that had given birth to him, the one that had abandoned him on that country road all those years ago.
He had a picture, one she had given him when he was just a baby, one in which he had held on to for this very day. Her day of atonement, her time to pay for all her transgression. She would live, that much he was sure of. The truth from her lips was much more important than her blood. He didn’t know where she lived exactly, but he did know the road he was found on. The monks had been that kind at least. Slowly he made his way up the hill, the tree tops slowly coming into view over the crest of the hill.
He slowed, noticing how he had begun to speed up due to his anticipation. He rounded the hill top and reached inside his gi towards his heart. From within his hand clentched around an 8x10 glossy photo of the woman who had given him up nearly 10 years ago. He studied it once more, not like he needed to. He used to stare at it to fall asleep, wondering how anyone as beautiful as the lady in the picture could have given up a baby such as himself. He peered up from the picture, his eyes meeting those of a lady in her fourties. Her hair was pulled tight in a bun atop her head. There were slight wrinkles under her eyes as she peered over her garden, but her look was unmistakable…mother.
“Joseph…” She uttered. The boy took a step back…was that his name, his birth name? No he thought…it didn’t matter what she called him.
“My name is Usul…Mother”
If I get accepted I would like to use this as a prolouge in my first post, if that is allowed.
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