This is my application for a Jounin Council member, the grandfather of my current character Masaru, and a Kuroki, with earlier versions of the tattoos. If you want any additional information, I’d be glad to provide it.
Kuroki Kuoroke, heir to the founder of the Kuroki clan, with its tattoo-using abilities… at least, he would have been if he were his first, and not his third son. But that was just a fact of life neither of the two younger brothers ever minded, especially because leadership of the clan was a burden more than a privilege. After his father had discovered the qualities of chakra-sensitive ink, 35 years before the founding of the Villages, things showed slight improvement, so Kuoroke and his brothers were born during better times. Better, but still not good, as every mission gone wrong lost the clan valuable, loved members and every job gone well apparently did little more than gain them more enemies.
And yet, they survived, and mostly because of the great, vast hideout the knew about, though what kept them alive also had a hand in killing them. Whenever the mountain of people looking for them in a bad way grew too high, they would move to the desert for a while, and let its harsh, unforgiving sands be the walls of their fortress.
Because of the necessity to retreat like this when facing the wrath of more powerful clans, and to travel in order to find employment as mercenaries, the clan led a very nomadic existence. With them travelled people who weren’t immediately warriors: artists and musicians, and generally people that somehow kept a spark of happiness alive inside these shinobi.
That was the family into which, 26 years before the founding of the Great Villages, Kuoroke was born, in the middle of the desert, as the youngest son of the clan head.
Unlike most changes in his life, the step from a normal person to a shinobi who had little problems killing a person took a while for him, and was very gradual. At the age of five, he saw a man getting killed… or rather, one man going through a door, another sneaking in behind him and back out, and then the first one being carried out. Not a very graphic representation, but that would come. He was nine when he watched a group of people in armour catching up with his clan after a long, and very quick, movement through the sands of the desert. As he later realised, it was likely these people had a sensor, if they could track them down. Either way, by the time the armoured warriors had caught up with the Kuroki, who were burdened by children and people who were not shinobi, the winds had picked up well and was carrying large clouds of sands through the air. The Kuroki’s being better adapted to such circumstances is likely why, between large gusts of sands, in a golden haze, Kuoroke watched their pursuers, along with his own uncles, aunts and great-uncles, fall into the sand and be buried almost immediately.
At the same time, he was growing up, and by the age of ten, he noticed the gap between him and the strength of his brothers at his age, as well as his peers was growing, even though they mostly did the same training. About that time, Kuoroke came to the realisation he was significantly less talented than his two siblings, and than most of the clan’s children. So he had to work a little more, squeezing as much extra progress out of every hour of training.%rAnd so, during his teenage years, while his brothers could spend time inventing new tricks and expanding the abilities of the tattoos their father had discovered, meeting girls and enjoying their youths, Kuoroke had to use most of his time to stay on par with them, and make sure he could defend himself when the need was there.
When he twelve, he got in his first serious fight. He never killed his enemy, that part was taken care of by a cousin that had just, quite literally, materialised from beneath the sand, but it was a fight to the death nonetheless.
He was fifteen when, while being hired as a guard together with his brothers, he killed an attacker. The frequency of people dying by his hands slowly increased until he was nineteen, at which point he spent almost all of his time either training or doing some kind of work. The routine of moving around, training and doing a job wherever they came, while barely taking the time to make sure the tent in, or the bed on, depending on the situation, which he slept wouldn’t collapse, dominated his life for a little under seven years. In moments he had to spare from that, he helped his father and oldest brother with their management tasks.
And then, Sunagakure was founded in the Land of Wind. Attracted by the promise of once being part of something larger than a small nomadic caravan, the Kuroki appeared in Sunagakure, and promised to help build it up from the sand with their tattoo-covered hands.
Kuoroke’s father and oldest brother were completely occupied by the leadership of the clan itself, his mother by making sure the next generation would be properly trained. Since the middle of the three brother had, like many a Kuroki before and after him, met his death at the pointy end of a sharpened stick when Kuoroke was 15, the only usually available member of the Kuroki’s leading family was Kuroki Kuoroke, and he became the family’s representative wherever a representative was necessary, but the clan head wasn’t.
With his already busy life, it was a lot to add, but as always, Kuoroke’s schedule fit perfectly, because he did what he was used to doing: re-evaluating everything eliminating the least useful. And this is something he not only applies to his schedule, it’s something he applies to everything around him. All that, what is useless, should be gotten rid of. All that, what is wasteful, should be gotten rid of quickly, and if only the useful remains and you find yourself incapable of supporting it all, you cut out all but the necessary. It’s a vision he carries into politics: for him, everyone should take a good look at his strengths and weaknesses, and then based on those, determine how he could best spend his time. People who waste the village’s resources endanger its survival, which is always primary. It’s also something he carries into relations, private and political. The most useful friend, the best, to him is the one that will do anything to help you, and since a society survives on good relations, he himself extends that kind of friendship to anyone willing to return it. He extends it honestly, because a society based on deception will not survive. Allies are basically the same thing: they will be regarded, and treated, as allies, as long as it’s visible how they promote survival and, possibly, welfare. Once it stops being apparent, they can be gotten rid of. And if Sunagakure’s survival is ensured long enough, they will outlast any enemies. %r%r Kuoroke is probably the polar opposite of his parents and brother, and actually most of his clan. While they are artistic and enjoy life, while letting others optimally enjoy theirs, Kuoroke sees this as not necessary, and therefore tertiary. One could say he likes a Spartan way of life, or one could just call him cheap. The one floor of a house he owns is mostly his office, with all other rooms being rather small and just large enough for the necessary. During the course of the last four years, Kuoroke has built about half his furniture, and basically constructed the entire interior of his house himself, which is why it doesn’t look too brilliant. Even his free time is spent doing useful tasks.
Unlike the other Kuroki, who have shown creativity during the creation of their tattoos, Kuoroke has mostly copied the flames on his father’s hands and their acidic qualities, and expanded then to other areas of his body, not wasting time on trying to come up with fancy techniques. He relies on simple Taijutsu techniques improved by his tattoo’s acidic qualities when fighting. Lacking in natural talent, he has made his training as efficient as possible, and will gladly drag anyone else through it if they need to become stronger.