Takuya Kimura

Name: Takuya Kimura
Age: 436 Appears: 26
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 180 lbs.
Gender: Male

Personality: Light-hearted, Friendly, Energetic, Playful, Crazy, and overall an raving loon. He'd rather make fun of some one for working than to lend a hand. Imagine the grasshopper from the old story of the grasshopper and the ant. He'd be the grasshopper, laughing it up while the ant toiled away.

Some see him as the passionate type, something of a hopeless romantic. Others see him as one who chases girls for the laugh.

Appearance: Tall, lean, and heavily scarred. It looks as if he'd been repeatedly stabbed in the torso with many odd, curved blades. He wears dark black robes with red flames on the arms and legs. He often wears a silvery metal mask when in battle, other times if he's had a tad bit of sake. (Meaning drunk off his ass...)

When the mask comes off, others view a smooth-faced individual. Throwing people completely off-guard since all they had to go on was his scarred body and faceless mask. His long black hair is let down from the pony-tail and his emerald green eyes pierce through you like his razor-sharp blade.

Spoiler:

Sealed Zanpakutō: A katana with a red-wrapped hilt. The blade is said to have a red tint when the light hits it just right, but then again that might just have been a fine coating of blood...

His fighting style is an odd one to say the least. The style usually includes a second blade to compliment the first yet Takuya only carries the one, making it very reckless.

History/Background: Takuya grew up in one of the branch families of the Kimura clan, a small family but one that had lasted for many centuries. Of course, to say he grew up in the family is an exaggeration at best. Most of his time was spent outside family walls, running about as a delinquent more than anything.

When it came time to learn how to wield a katana, Takuya almost completely disregarded his instructors and instead developed his own style, a rather reckless two handed style that required skill and just a bit of luck to pull off. And even though this style wasn't one taught to people, he nonetheless held his own even against veteran fighters.

Soon after his 26th birthday, after many years of lazing about and doing little of anything, the battle of Sekigahara called, and he was forced to go. He fought valiantly, but to no avail. He finally fell after many stab wounds did their work. In the end, it took thirty nine blades to finally end him.

After his death, he's found himself in some strange place. Since then, he's been wandering, not seeing many people. This has not helped his sanity at all.

Each character gets 20 skill points to start of with assign them to either:

Spirit power: 6

Speed: 5

Intelligence: 4

Kidou Mastery: 0

Fighting skill: 7

TOTAL: 22.0

Rp sample: Daichi had been here for a while, 6, maybe 7 months. He decided that, after four hundred sixty three years, it was time to return. He knew it had changed since he was last here as a child, but he was still taken aback. He remembered when it was but a small fishing village, no larger than 700 people. He was never liked, but he did like the village as a whole.

Now it was a sprawling metropolis, with millions and millions of people stomping around areas he remembered so long ago. It made him upset at first, but he soon began to realize that, though the land had been changed, his memories haven't. Though he was hated by his villagers as a child, he loved Tokyo as a boy, and would always be wandering the village and land around it. It was because of the villagers constant attacks that he was forced to leave. And now he was back.

He had enjoyed his time here. Though vastly different, he began to feel at home. He had even found some people he, at the very least, didn't hate too much. He hung out with them in the residential area in the southwest area. He could usually tell the difference from people who lived here from people who didn't.

This one tonight was definitely an outsider. She wore strange clothing for this day and age, and carried a sword in her sash. That in itself wasn't strange. It was her smell. She didn't smell of the living. She smelled of a soul, which he had limited experience with. He had met several lost souls over the years, but they usually disappeared within a few days, so he never paid them much mind. But this one was different from the others. She wasn't chained to the ground, crying over their death, or even dressed right. That, and she seemed to have a purpose, a reason for being here, instead of the usual drifting of lost souls.

Interested in this new apparition, he made to speak with her, but she immediately ran off. Undeterred, he followed her. He was trying to get her attention, but she wasn't paying attention. He was impressed with her though, since there was no one he had seen that could match his inhuman speed. She turned a corner and seemed to be headed for the local shrine. Daichi followed her until she reached the shrine, which was an old well that was said to have once held sacred water. It had long dried up, but she jumped in anyway.

Hurriedly, he nearly leaped up to the well and looked down into it's depths. He saw the bottom clearly enough, but there was no body there. Confused, and not one to be made a fool of by a mere human, soul or no, he jumped into the well after her. He never reached the bottom.


He had just jumped down a well. Wells don't take you to different places. They're supposed to take you to the bottom of a well...

But, where was he? He leaped out of the well hole to see that he was indeed not in Tokyo anymore. No, this place looked like the four horsemen had just trampled through here, and took no prisoners. The houses were burned and blasted. He had seen similar things in the first world war, but there was a problem. He smelled blood, but there were no bodies. Not even skeletons. And wreckage of this nature had to of been done by explosives. But he didn't smell gunpowder.

There was something seriously not right here, and it all centered around the woman in the black kimono. He sniffed the air, trying to ignore the old blood and focus on the woman's scent. Finally, he had it! He ran as fast as he could in her direction.

As he ran, he noticed something. His skin was getting furrier, his nose elongating, nails growing. Only then did he notice that he was starting to lose control of his shape. He sharply looked to the sky and saw that there was indeed a full moon. Damn, so much for not freaking her out. He pushed himself harder, barely noticing that he was going a bit faster than he was used to. Suddenly, his ears flicked as he heard a roar in the direction he was headed. Sensing danger, he pushed himself even more, finally noticing that he was going faster than ever. What the hell? Does this place have less gravity? Determined to find his limit, and reach the woman he desperately wanted to question, he crouched low, hands now joining his feet as he ran, objects blurring past him at a speed previously unknown to him.[img][/img]