[hider=Fukushu Haru] [b]Fukushu Haru[/b] [b]Age[/b]: 16 [img]https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/limbuscompany/images/5/5b/Liu_Assoc._South_Section_4_Ishmael_Full.png[/img] [b]Important Items[/b] Grandmothers fishing set - Harpoon, net, wire, Rod, and hooks - [i]Mother's Sword[/i] - [i]Father's Entomology Journal[/i] - [i]Worn leather backpack[/i] - [i]Carving Knife[/i] [b]Bio[/b] From inception the Haru family was odd. An etymologist from Germany who fell in love with the daughter of a Japanese whaler that had gone beyond her origins to become a kendo champion. It could hardly be called a whirlwind romance or anything poetic. They met, and to all who weren't them seemed to be rather blasè about the other. But there was a connection, shared between a few too many shared cigarettes and moments held too long. They never had a proper ceremony. They got the legal matters out of the way and went on with life with only one noticeable change to the public. They changed their family name to Haru, to mark their marriage in spring. In truth, they spent more time apart than together. One could easily take it as a scheme to avoid taxes or some such. Until Fukushu came along. She grew up in a warm home, well taken care of. She learned how to distinguish between her mothers inherent apathy and her fathers depression and traumas marked both mentally and by the loss of an arm. She was loved, even if others might have seen it as almost neglect. Fukushu was not. Her parents loved her, and her, them. After all, even the most downcast day is a day you can build memories in. But, like tears in rain, those days have long left with no trace but those Grey memories. Some called it an accident, others a serial killer. The news had a different story every hour for the famed Kenshi and her dead husband. Fukushu knows what happened that night, the night she turned eleven. A dozen hooded figures, half cut down by her mother and a few more beaten by her fathers sheer unwillingness to go down. Like a roach he endured and skittered till he laid down his life to save her. Next was a blur, she was concussed and crying and confused and so much else. Yet she would not forget what it was she saw. Her mother, those symbols, the words that still echoed from long cold lungs… No one believed her. After that night she was shipped to the coast to be in her grandmother's care. An old woman saltier than the sea and with a peg leg that hated solid ground. She took the young lass underneath her wing and they went to see for over a year. Teaching her granddaughter the skills needed upon a ship and imparting vitriol over those who killed her blood. There is something ironic that the only one who believed a child's insane sounding stories was a woman who was two steps off of the gangplank leading into the seas of madness. Unfortunately, solely for her grandmother, the police did catch up and force her to enroll her into school again. Where Fukushu now had to play catch up with hands more used to roughspun ropes and wires then paper and lead. Grandmother was an old fashioned sort. The kind who set aside her sea born soul to stay dry on land for as long as possible to ensure Fukushu lived life well. That she raised her as she did her own daughter years before. It all culminated in Fukushu being a rather soft spoken and polite girl. Somehow lacking the apathetic disgust or her mother, the apathetic depression of her father, or the apathetic…well the screaming lack of care for anything not directly related to her Grandmother. With good manners and good grades, she got offered a transfer to that island ever distinct on the horizon. New Amakusa city calls, and deep within her lies that burning ember that awaits fuel. A flickering flame barely restrained over years of patience to find what doctrine led to her parents death, what cult or organization insidiously lurks in the shadows killing indiscriminately. She will search, and she will find them. And when she does? Grandmothers Harpoon had long since been whetted with blood. [b]Personality[/b] Fukushu is a person that appears and acts soft spoken and polite, And she is. To most anyone she has to interact with she is just a nice, well raised lady with manners. Yet beneath the surface of a calm sea lies the riptides to drag down all around. She is deeply obsessed with trying to find anything about why her parents were killed, who orchestrated it, and where they are so she can kill them in turn. When agitated as such, she can appear one step away from madness as she rants at the heavens with such vitriol that would leave paradise as embers. [b]Skills[/b] Fukushu has a rather eclectic set of skills. She is moderately skilled in the blade, has knowledge of bugs and German, was a rather stalwart academic in classes, and has many such skills useful to fishing and whaling. She can tie an unbreakable knot, weave a rope from twine or hair, and toss a harpoon with great accuracy. Her grandmother also passed down a large sum of fish based recipes that she can cook rather well. Though she does lack many casual skills many might have, lacking in social manners that leave her sounding stilted or cold. [/hider]