Lemons
RPM
Supermaxx
Zeus23
Yankee
Raijinslayer
SkyeOfStars
Not a SayanReposting here for organization's sake.
Name: Mashuka “Shuka” Shamal
Nickname: Dust
Age: 16
School Year: First
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Mashuka is of average height and sub-average weight. An upbringing devoid of proper nutrition has left him with a thin body that years of exercise have managed to turn into a lean-muscled form. He commonly wears long sleeves and long pants, tied tight at the wrists and ankles respectively. A hood or face-mask isn't uncommon, as during his drifting days the white-hair would tend to garner unwanted attention
Nationality: Afghani
Personality: Mashuka is quiet but friendly, with a curious outlook on life. He loves stories, particularly stories of people's lives, and if he had to kill someone he'd prefer to know all there is to know about who they are first. His loyalty could be brought into question, but he's good at keeping secrets, though his moral compass shares a seat with his instinct to survive.
He tends to avoid talking about himself, even going so far as to intentionally steer conversations away from the subject of his childhood and family. That being said, he isn't ashamed of who he is, and has a soft spot in his heart for the oppressed or mistreated.
Bio: Before Mashuka’s mother was a victim of the mass murders of the Pul-e-Charkhi prison in Afghanistan, her family had been nomads following the winds. Though years and years ago they were proud and loved showmen, the modern age had turned them to meager beggars and thieves. Her husband had been caught stealing, and as was the law, he and the family as a whole were locked away. Towards the end of her pregnancy, as the brutal murders began to increase, she would whisper to her unborn child. “Mashuka”, she would say, “If I cannot look after you in this world, then the very wind shall guide your way.”
And every day she would say this, and every night she would bask in the air and ask for the sky’s blessing. The other inmates thought her mad, but the doctor looking over her pregnancy was charmed by the lullaby-like rituals.
The day eventually came when she gave birth to him, the word “Mashuka” spilling from her lips before she fell unconscious. In her sorry state, she was quickly dispatched and became one of the thousands in the graves outside of the prison.
It was the doctor who raised him, though the boy was forced to remain within Pul-e-Charkhi’s walls. The other families cared for him, but at the end of the day he would always return to the doctor who had spent much time with his mother. He taught Mashuka English, taught him much of the academia he would have otherwise missed inside the prison, and did his best to steer the boy right so that when he turned sixteen, and would be released, the world would not seem like such a scary place.
But sadly he could not watch over Mashuka all day, and while he was away the boy suffered as all the prisoners did. He was roped into their schemes, taught how to survive and how to fight. But it was not until he was fourteen that his “talent” surfaced.
Though the massacres had stopped, conditions within the prison were still horrific. Inmates suffered beatings and poor living conditions without an end in sight, so it was no surprise when a riot finally broke out. Chaos tore the prison apart, the inmates scrambled to escape and the guards fired without discretion. Mashuka ran, and he did so with the speed of the wind itself. Moving in swift blurs and dashes, he collided with and ultimately killed a soldier blocking his exit. Without time to be shaken, he grabbed the man’s kukri knife and was whisked away with the breeze.
After managing to hide away for two years and escape to England, he found out about and shortly thereafter applied to the Riddle Academy.
Weapon: A simple kukri blade in a leather sheath with silver framing.
Equipment: Nothing not provided by or found at the school.
Skills: Quick and agile, well versed in Krav Maga and not too shabby with the kukri after growing up around soldiers, Mashuka can fight and run, but his other skills lack as a result of his upbringing.
Abilities:
-Breath-: Mashuka can channel his family’s long-standing affinity with the wind to enhance his mobility. Though not offensive, it does allow him to cover short-to-medium distances in incredible time and jump to extended heights. However this ability can be used only in bursts, and not rapidly, needing minutes or more to be used once again. This is not a matter of tiring him out, but rather he simply cannot access it during this time.
Other:
Nickname: Dust
Age: 16
School Year: First
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Mashuka is of average height and sub-average weight. An upbringing devoid of proper nutrition has left him with a thin body that years of exercise have managed to turn into a lean-muscled form. He commonly wears long sleeves and long pants, tied tight at the wrists and ankles respectively. A hood or face-mask isn't uncommon, as during his drifting days the white-hair would tend to garner unwanted attention
Nationality: Afghani
Personality: Mashuka is quiet but friendly, with a curious outlook on life. He loves stories, particularly stories of people's lives, and if he had to kill someone he'd prefer to know all there is to know about who they are first. His loyalty could be brought into question, but he's good at keeping secrets, though his moral compass shares a seat with his instinct to survive.
He tends to avoid talking about himself, even going so far as to intentionally steer conversations away from the subject of his childhood and family. That being said, he isn't ashamed of who he is, and has a soft spot in his heart for the oppressed or mistreated.
Bio: Before Mashuka’s mother was a victim of the mass murders of the Pul-e-Charkhi prison in Afghanistan, her family had been nomads following the winds. Though years and years ago they were proud and loved showmen, the modern age had turned them to meager beggars and thieves. Her husband had been caught stealing, and as was the law, he and the family as a whole were locked away. Towards the end of her pregnancy, as the brutal murders began to increase, she would whisper to her unborn child. “Mashuka”, she would say, “If I cannot look after you in this world, then the very wind shall guide your way.”
And every day she would say this, and every night she would bask in the air and ask for the sky’s blessing. The other inmates thought her mad, but the doctor looking over her pregnancy was charmed by the lullaby-like rituals.
The day eventually came when she gave birth to him, the word “Mashuka” spilling from her lips before she fell unconscious. In her sorry state, she was quickly dispatched and became one of the thousands in the graves outside of the prison.
It was the doctor who raised him, though the boy was forced to remain within Pul-e-Charkhi’s walls. The other families cared for him, but at the end of the day he would always return to the doctor who had spent much time with his mother. He taught Mashuka English, taught him much of the academia he would have otherwise missed inside the prison, and did his best to steer the boy right so that when he turned sixteen, and would be released, the world would not seem like such a scary place.
But sadly he could not watch over Mashuka all day, and while he was away the boy suffered as all the prisoners did. He was roped into their schemes, taught how to survive and how to fight. But it was not until he was fourteen that his “talent” surfaced.
Though the massacres had stopped, conditions within the prison were still horrific. Inmates suffered beatings and poor living conditions without an end in sight, so it was no surprise when a riot finally broke out. Chaos tore the prison apart, the inmates scrambled to escape and the guards fired without discretion. Mashuka ran, and he did so with the speed of the wind itself. Moving in swift blurs and dashes, he collided with and ultimately killed a soldier blocking his exit. Without time to be shaken, he grabbed the man’s kukri knife and was whisked away with the breeze.
After managing to hide away for two years and escape to England, he found out about and shortly thereafter applied to the Riddle Academy.
Weapon: A simple kukri blade in a leather sheath with silver framing.
Equipment: Nothing not provided by or found at the school.
Skills: Quick and agile, well versed in Krav Maga and not too shabby with the kukri after growing up around soldiers, Mashuka can fight and run, but his other skills lack as a result of his upbringing.
Abilities:
-Breath-: Mashuka can channel his family’s long-standing affinity with the wind to enhance his mobility. Though not offensive, it does allow him to cover short-to-medium distances in incredible time and jump to extended heights. However this ability can be used only in bursts, and not rapidly, needing minutes or more to be used once again. This is not a matter of tiring him out, but rather he simply cannot access it during this time.
Other: