Akkioto Yuu

Akkioto Yuu
Personal
Birthplace	Land of Demons
Birthdate	8 July
Gender	Male
Age	29
Height	5' 11"
Weight	130 lbs.
Blood Type	O
Kekkei Genkai	Unknown
Classification	Unknown
Areas of Expertise	Genjutsu
Clan	Akkioto
Affiliation	None
Team	None
Rank
Ninja Rank	Wanderer
Genin-Equivalent Age	12
Chuunin-Equivalent Age	18
Nature Type
Element (Affinity)	N/A
Family
Father	Akkioto Jio
Mother	Akkioto Muhani
Mentor	Ikuno Moshi

Signature Jutsu
Demon Melody Genjutsu

"I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.

The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.

I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,-and then
There interposed a fly,

With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see."

-E. Dickinson

Background

+ Reveal: the shallows.

When those who were shackled beneath Mouryou became released of their binds, it was the Akkioto who suffered. Their clan was hunted down, tried, charged, and often executed for the crimes they committed against the more benign of citizens in the Land of Demons. Yuu was still young when men barged into his family's home, his parents delicious power at the hand of Mouryou having vanished into the cowering fear of two people clutched in a corner. Yuu but saw the beginning of the ferocity of those who would call themselves righteous: the splintering of the door, and the terrible weight of their feet on the floor, the final things he heard as he crawled through a window. He supposes - reflecting on what happened during the meanders of his youth - that his parents decided that they deserved the punishment which was come to them, and so they did not flee like Yuu. But from his time as a child, from the days when he was sick even then, coughing and weak, he never believed he deserved his fate. Perhaps, then, it was no surprise that when the others came, he left his family, the fools that they were, to abide their decisions. To wonder if they regret it now, beheaded in heaven.

Though Yuu was young when the revolution came, he was not terribly so. He had been practiced in his clan's arts; had his own Demon Instrument (a koto). But he had just started his training, had just begun the exhaustive work of learning to command the masses. Thankfully, when he fled, he had already packed his things (for such changes of power do not come so suddenly that one cannot be prepared), and had taken too, in the hysteria that comes with those knowing themselves to be lost, the secret scrolls of his clan's peculiar gifts: the melodies by which they create their Genjutsu, and the contracts with the Doki. Yet great musicians often never arise from their own talent — a teacher, they must have. It was on this road, the path to nowhere and everywhere, that Yuu met a fateful acquaintance: Moshio.

Moshio never knew the unique gifts that Yuu held, for the boy never performed his Demonic Melodies in front of the old man, opting to practice on his own in the far, far stretches of trees and rocks. Such effort is daunting, such performances taxing of the soul and spirit, particularly when the benefit is but for one's own. How ardently Yuu desired to destroy his instrument, how eagerly he smashed it upon rocks and against trees — but instruments of evil do not bend and break so easily, and, ike a curse, did Yuu bear such burden. Moshi, however, taking to the sickly, malevolent nature of Yuu, instructed the boy in his own arts. Yuu learned from Moshi the establishments of Sealing, and the means by which they are conducted. The old man's memory was far from in-exhaustive, but he knew of one thing that many others did not: the Cursed Seals.

Yuu, for his part, hated the world. He was never big, never strong, his illness carrying him through the world at such a slow pace, and with such fatigue that he could never bring himself to happiness - to watch a butterfly wing through the bright afternoon, or smell the lip of a rose sipping on fresh dew - without coughing, or feeling tired, or wishing for his head to stop pounding. Such a thing so simple as illness broke the very back of any appreciation for life. And as it dragged on, further too did it weaken Yuu. It was as such that Moshi, witnessing the boy's terrible fate, taught him what he knew of Cursed Seals. For it is in such awful jutsu - so Moshi proclaimed - that Yuu could learn to heal himself by stealing the health of others. The boy did learn, and further practiced, and all malevolence, upon reaching the boundary of evil, must make a choice, and such did Yuu: he murdered Moshi.

The young boy - now a man - did not absorb the other's life, however. But he did not disbelieve the man either. It is here that we find him, wandering as he does, from Land to Land, and Village to Village, looking to discover the true of immortality, and spreading - as he must - his weary disgust of the world.

Personality

The question of personality bears such a fumbling attempt to identify that which creates us so different, so unique. How does one successfully describe themselves without having a mirror? And even then? Yuu sees himself as would a blind man: by bumbling touch. Who's to say who Yuu will be today, or tomorrow? There is always yesterday to establish one's self, but how true are old tales told? Yuu does not trust the strokes of a painter, or the knotted hands of the sculptor to do anything but tell him how he was. But, if it is the past you desire, then let it be had: look above, and you'll see all you wish to wonder. But of Yuu today… well, who can say besides those who already know?

Appearance

The man here seems frail, and wan. His face is pallid, but that is the most skin that can be seen. A hat of deep blue, with a short brim, sits low on his head, often casting shadow over thin lips, an angular nose, and sallow cheeks which hang below pale green eyes. A long robe of grey-blue stretches past the tip of the man's fingers, though when the garment is pulled back, such finely pointed nails there be, and hardy digits too. Further the robe falls, smooth along the front and back, to the top of the man's shoes; two long slits - to the waist - rise along the sides of the garment. Pants of a similar hue, but darker in shade - slightly ruffled and bunched - keep the legs covered, also to the tops of the shoes, they being a black pair of full slippers. Nothing about this man, from the sloth of his pace to the hunch of his back to the loft of his height to the thin of his waist, suggests that vigor is not a tenant his body commands. Though, perhaps, the large, cloth-covered, rectangular thing upon his back may bely such frailty.

Relationships

Family

Name	Relationship	Notes
Akkioto Joi	Father	Yuu's father, who trained him in the art of the koto from when his fingers could first pluck, and who taught him the worthlessness of life. Dead.
Akkioto Muhani	Mother	Yuu's mother, who showed the boy the waste of the noble, and who instructed him in the graceful art of domination. Dead.

The Rest

Name	Relationship	Notes
Ikuno Moshi	Mentor	An old man who took Yuu in, trained him in the Sealing arts. Murdered.
Reizei Ogosokamaru	Potential	The White Blur. A savage with a sword. Hatred boils beneath his skin, channeled by a blade. No well ending will come.
Asao	Potential	The steady ticking emanating from this boy whispers of promise for machinations of infinity.

Journal

+ Show 09/14/12 - Entry #03: Forever The End

I wander now, still and forever. There seems to be no end to my journey, and for each step, do I lose further the purpose. I'm not sure what I am longer searching for. The quest for immortality, yes, but if it is anything as to the reason for life I have now, then I wish it not. I could wish it never again, nor would I, knowing that to be immortal would be to simply wander forever, unknowing of action or cause. Is simply "being" enough? Should there be not more than that? What of poignancy, or declaration, or dedication — even if blind, such things are worth finding. Ignorance is bliss, but what comfort is brought to the wise? Better to be stupid; better to be so dumb as to be dead. Would I even be missed? Would any even know my name, except to spit upon the ground by hearing it? To this new world I came, that I might discover a new life, to fill my immortal quest with purpose besides simple being… but escape myself, I cannot. Escape the hatred, and the pain, and the torment, I do not. And too weary am I to mask it by anything else. I must find my cure — my cause. I must keep searching, at least for now, that such black agony as beats from my heart and through my veins will cease.

+ Show 08/20/12 - Entry #02: The Weary

Must I wander forever, through chaos and peace, that I disturb my very soul to endlessly search? Will I ever find the end? Is it that which I so fervently wish to discover? How I can only assume, by the weight I carry upon my back with every single step, that it will all be worth something. In the end. For isn't that how tales are told? Isn't that how the meek and feeble bring themselves to conquer and bear each and every slovenly day? By knowing that it will all be for the best… in the end. Ah, to hell with that! I do NOT wish such to end. I wish to live forever, to be immortal, to scrap the worthlessness of flesh for the endlessness of my mind. What is my body but the vessel, to carry my intentions forward. Onward, cries the slave driver, lashing his bought-flesh forward. Such I am, whipping the air along myself that I may contribute to something great. Be there then no shortage of my will, and may my body be but the pitcher which bears the nectar of life. Carry me forward, flesh and bone. That I may find the way to be rid of you.

+ Show 08/16/12 - Entry #01: Ramblings of the Mad

How I find myself lost without yet taking my first step into the world. Men such as I never find our way; never revel in the glory of accomplishment, of ending. Our stories are infinite, carrying on beyond ourselves, and into the history of men. I will be buried only in flesh, but… yet, I wish not so. Moshi spoke of there being the ability to live forever, to discard one's weak, soiled body in exchange for youth and vigor. But surely… surely, how can such a thing be? How can there exist so vile a thing as that the innocence of youth can be bludgeoned into submission? Ah, but certainly I am the one to know. Certainly, I am the one to have seen, to have felt, to have wrenched between my fingers the very innocence which seemed too eager to be slaughtered. Lambs indeed. Oh, I am so hungry! But nothing, it seems, can stay down for now. Even too much water, gulped too hurriedly, ricochets back up, to return to the earth from whence it come. Ugh. Perhaps I am just thus. Perhaps I am simply the vessel, to carry on the act of nature. I am nothing but a process: a means to achieve what that outside myself so ardently desires. But certainly… certainly it cannot be them. I have not even established our communication, have not fed them on my own blood. No, no, it certainly cannot be. But oh, if it is! So quickly then do I desire control. Perhaps then, then I will discover it. Perhaps it is with them that my truth lies.

Skills & Stats

Taijutsu

S-Rank

A-Rank

B-Rank

C-Rank

D-Rank

Genjutsu

S-Rank

A-Rank

B-Rank

C-Rank
Abyss

D-Rank
Demon Melody Genjutsu
Genjutsu Clone
Binding Illusion
Demon Veil
Displacement

Ninjutsu

S-Rank

A-Rank

B-Rank

C-Rank
Chakra Suppressing Seal

D-Rank
Cursed Seal Style
Seal Mastery
Explosive Tag
Tree Walking
Water Walking
Body Flicker Technique
Summoning Technique

Stats

Nin: 05

Tai: 04

Gen: 07

Int: 07

Pow: 04

Sta: 04

Seal: 05

Spd: 07

RP Logs

+ Show Logs

Campaigns What If? Final Performance - The Bounds of Rule S Rank A Rank B Rank C Rank D Rank Social

Theme Song

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