_____________________________________________
Name: Makara
Title: Red Sea Makara
Bounty: $92,500,000
_____________________________________________
Crew: Ash Pirates
Occupation/Skillset: First-Mate / The Best Face Puncher in all the Land!
Age: 25
Age Appearance: Mid 20's
__________________________________________________
Allegiance: Pirate
Personality: The rebellious fighter who swears loyalty to another? What a conundrum! But it's true! The thing that drives forth this fishman is nothing less than to be loyal to his greatest rival, and person who gave him freedom from slavery. Perhaps it's an odd way to just hop from being a slave in an arena, to a different kind of servant. But he doesn't care. He's just here to fight, and be completely free when he's truly the strongest.
Laugh: MURAMURAMURA!
Birthplace: Fish-Man Island
History:
His earliest memory... Is slavery. He barely remembers his mother, or his father. Not even his name. For he was known as Slave #2459 Only that he was born where all Fish-Man are. At Fish-Man Island. He atleast knows that, but he no longer cares. For he was slave, taken from his home by pirates. Sold on the market. These early years are a rush. He remembers no names. No faces. Only that he hated it. He fought, and he was punished. He fought, and then he was punished again. A vicious cycle. Again and again, the cycle repeated. Never-ending, till each master would give up, and sell him to another. He traveled far on that alone. To each new master, he was a prize. A rare specimen.
For he... Was a Fishman with red skin. A red-skinned shark. A marvel! A lovely prize to have! Only if they could control him. Each learned in time they could not, and would ditch their dangerous prize. As he grew from child, to a much more aggressive child. It wasn't until one day, when he was thrown into a hot box, that his life changed course.
"Why do you fight every command?"
"Shut up old man! I'm a Fishman! You are too! You should be fighting them too!"
"It's not about fighting, it's knowing when the fight is best done."
The speaker, was the head slave. The one in charge of the others. An older fishman, further in his years than even Slave #2459 could count. The Fishman elder sat by that hotbox for hours, speaking with the angry boy. Finally though... A question was asked...
"Elder, what was it like before you became a slave?"
"I was a fisher. I would take a boat out into the calm belt, and I would catch sea beasts."
"You're making that up. You're pulling my leg."
"You are in a box. How can I possibly be pulling your leg?"
"It's an expression I picked up at the last... Place... You know..."
"You've spent so long rebelling that you really have no idea where you are, haven't you?"
There was silence for what might have been a century. It was broken by the old man, and the words he spoke changed the way the young slave would think.
"Perhaps, I can show you the world you wish to fight for?"
That old fish, known later to slave #2459 was known as Makara. He was a former gladiator, who was paid for by their current owner years ago for the sole purpose of fighting in a gladiator arena on one of the nearby islands. The famed "Gladitorial Arena MegaPhone." The island itself was called such because the battles were so loud that they could be heard on neighboring islands.
Inspired by the old Makara's stories, slave 2459 requested that he be trained to be as impressive as him. Makra would hear none of it, until the young slave had finished his chores for the day. And when those were done, Makara would teach him one move. Every day the list of chores would grow, to test the young slave's resolve, and to strengthen his body. And everyday, slave 2459 did as such. And at the end of the day he would go through a different kind of training.
Every day his body strengthened. His fists shattered stone, and his heart flowed with unending tenacity.
Makara turned to his still nameless pupil. On that day it had been several years, and the slave was now 14 years old. He had grown to be a shimmering pillar of physical strength, and as such, it was time.
"You should be a gladiator. Win enough, and you'll earn your freedom."
The slave agreed, and with his mentor, he went to the arena. The process to sign up was long, tiring, and needlessly complicated. The only truly difficult part? A name. All fighters needed names, and a number was not a name.
Slave 2459 would spend several days writing up possible names for himself. That is when he wasn't practicing. It was on one of those practicing nights that another fishman slave met up with him. In the dark of the night, he had only one thing to say.
"Makara is dead!"
He had passed away in his sleep, his life trickling away without a single word given to his apprentice. He had not wanted to worry the lad.
A name was chosen. Makara. In honor of his teacher.
The newly named Makara made a name for himself in the arena. Strength, violent tendencies, a shocking physical appearance! He had it all. The Red Sea Makara, champion of the arena. Wealth, fame, it all came to him. But he was still a slave. Freedom never seemed to come. No matter how many battles he won, it would always be... "One more match away."
That final "One more match" was with a newcomer to the arena. Some nobody named Ishizoku. Though Makara didn't know it, he and that man would have a long future ahead of themselves. They met in the arena, and thus began a long, grueling fight for the both of them. Sure, one was a pheonix, and the other was a shark, but each trading of blows was a lesson for both. Brothers in arms, despite enemies in the arena. Their first match ended in a draw, and so did the second. Each time they met, the arena shook with their clash. That 'One more match" was a never ending gauntlet with two unwavering champions.
Until...
They exchanged a blow, and both realized at once... "With this man by my side, I could conquer the world!" Unspoken, they both had a connection. And their fists turned against the stadium. The paradise arena of Gladitorial Arena MegaPhone was completely annihilated as the two strongest fighters in all its history turned against the stone walls. Shattering convention in the process. The moment was short, but what followed... That changed Makara's life again.
"Hey, will you be my First Mate?"
"Deal."
For he... Was a Fishman with red skin. A red-skinned shark. A marvel! A lovely prize to have! Only if they could control him. Each learned in time they could not, and would ditch their dangerous prize. As he grew from child, to a much more aggressive child. It wasn't until one day, when he was thrown into a hot box, that his life changed course.
"Why do you fight every command?"
"Shut up old man! I'm a Fishman! You are too! You should be fighting them too!"
"It's not about fighting, it's knowing when the fight is best done."
The speaker, was the head slave. The one in charge of the others. An older fishman, further in his years than even Slave #2459 could count. The Fishman elder sat by that hotbox for hours, speaking with the angry boy. Finally though... A question was asked...
"Elder, what was it like before you became a slave?"
"I was a fisher. I would take a boat out into the calm belt, and I would catch sea beasts."
"You're making that up. You're pulling my leg."
"You are in a box. How can I possibly be pulling your leg?"
"It's an expression I picked up at the last... Place... You know..."
"You've spent so long rebelling that you really have no idea where you are, haven't you?"
There was silence for what might have been a century. It was broken by the old man, and the words he spoke changed the way the young slave would think.
"Perhaps, I can show you the world you wish to fight for?"
That old fish, known later to slave #2459 was known as Makara. He was a former gladiator, who was paid for by their current owner years ago for the sole purpose of fighting in a gladiator arena on one of the nearby islands. The famed "Gladitorial Arena MegaPhone." The island itself was called such because the battles were so loud that they could be heard on neighboring islands.
Inspired by the old Makara's stories, slave 2459 requested that he be trained to be as impressive as him. Makra would hear none of it, until the young slave had finished his chores for the day. And when those were done, Makara would teach him one move. Every day the list of chores would grow, to test the young slave's resolve, and to strengthen his body. And everyday, slave 2459 did as such. And at the end of the day he would go through a different kind of training.
Every day his body strengthened. His fists shattered stone, and his heart flowed with unending tenacity.
Makara turned to his still nameless pupil. On that day it had been several years, and the slave was now 14 years old. He had grown to be a shimmering pillar of physical strength, and as such, it was time.
"You should be a gladiator. Win enough, and you'll earn your freedom."
The slave agreed, and with his mentor, he went to the arena. The process to sign up was long, tiring, and needlessly complicated. The only truly difficult part? A name. All fighters needed names, and a number was not a name.
Slave 2459 would spend several days writing up possible names for himself. That is when he wasn't practicing. It was on one of those practicing nights that another fishman slave met up with him. In the dark of the night, he had only one thing to say.
"Makara is dead!"
He had passed away in his sleep, his life trickling away without a single word given to his apprentice. He had not wanted to worry the lad.
A name was chosen. Makara. In honor of his teacher.
The newly named Makara made a name for himself in the arena. Strength, violent tendencies, a shocking physical appearance! He had it all. The Red Sea Makara, champion of the arena. Wealth, fame, it all came to him. But he was still a slave. Freedom never seemed to come. No matter how many battles he won, it would always be... "One more match away."
That final "One more match" was with a newcomer to the arena. Some nobody named Ishizoku. Though Makara didn't know it, he and that man would have a long future ahead of themselves. They met in the arena, and thus began a long, grueling fight for the both of them. Sure, one was a pheonix, and the other was a shark, but each trading of blows was a lesson for both. Brothers in arms, despite enemies in the arena. Their first match ended in a draw, and so did the second. Each time they met, the arena shook with their clash. That 'One more match" was a never ending gauntlet with two unwavering champions.
Until...
They exchanged a blow, and both realized at once... "With this man by my side, I could conquer the world!" Unspoken, they both had a connection. And their fists turned against the stadium. The paradise arena of Gladitorial Arena MegaPhone was completely annihilated as the two strongest fighters in all its history turned against the stone walls. Shattering convention in the process. The moment was short, but what followed... That changed Makara's life again.
"Hey, will you be my First Mate?"
"Deal."
Goal: To make sure his Captain is the best he can be, and that anybody who tries to get in his way is killed.
__________________________________________________
Combat
Haki
Type of Haki: Armament Haki
Control: Intermediate
Type of Haki: Observation Haki
Control: Intermediate
__________________________________________________
Weapons/Equipment
None. He gave up on such things after leaving the gladiatorial arenas.
__________________________________________________
Fighting Skills/Attributes
- Fish-Man Strength (Shark) - Men are weak. Humans are very very weak. Fish-men? They are titans. Monstrous beings that are stronger than even the strongest humans on record. According to them at least. A fish-man's starting point in strength is much higher than the average person, as such a single fishman grunt is worth more than a hundred human grunts. While this advantage is less obvious when the punching tier rises, an individual like Makara is still punching in a higher tier of strength than one might expect.
To put it in simple terms, he bench presses with ships.
- Deep Sea Diving - Yep, he can go pretty deep. He tends to go deep, so that when he surfaces, he brings with him treasure form the depths. Some of it valuable, some of it not.
- Fish-Man Karate - A martial art that is practiced by certain skilled members of the Fish-Man race; it is noted that humans can also learn the fighting style, as Koala apparently is able to use it despite being human. While deadly enough on land, Fish-Man Karate has a number of devastating underwater moves designed to be suitable with the Fish-Man strength and speed along with the mobility that goes while under water and, in some cases, a fish-man's personal adaptation.
Despite being enslaved, Makara learned the basics as a child, and since then has developed his own impressive suite of strikes that he learned with the help of several prison brawlers. It can be best compared to wrestling, with clotheslines, lowblows, and body slams. While less useful against other Fishmen, it's excellent against humans because of the size advantage.
- Five Hundred Heads Clothesline: A clothesline strike. The main difference? Using his fins, he collects water moisture in the air, creating a thin line of water along his arm. The result is a transformation of his limb into a scythe. The water pressure slicing through the neck of the target, or any limbs that may get in the way. His claim is that it can cut through people so easily that it could slice through five hundred men before he'd even be slowed.
- Five-Hundred Depths Drop: An elbow drop that destroys without hesitation. The pressure that builds up from this drop emulates the pressure one might have at the deep ocean. Five hundred depths deep, enough to shatter the bones of the average man, and even the bones of a slightly less average man. When amplified by Armament Haki, it transforms into Five-Thousand Depths Drop, which is even deeper.
- Five-Hundred Foot Wave Kick: A standing kick, that launches the target right into the air. It's a powerful strike that shatters the jaw of the target. Well, if it's a human. Famously, this kick was used to knock a whole Navy Vessel Five-Hundred Feet into the air. The impact force is more than enough to be described as "A wave that destroys everything."
- Water Guillotine: Comparable to the famous water-shot. But unlike watershot which is a single drop gathered into a single pinpoint accurate shot, this is a slicing blade. Gathering water on his fin, it is fired out at the target like a blade. The force was enough to cut through the mast of a ship, or even a sea-king. Underwater, its power is even greater. An execution wave that cuts through the ocean, leaving a scar in even the water.
- Five-Hundred Depths Drop: An elbow drop that destroys without hesitation. The pressure that builds up from this drop emulates the pressure one might have at the deep ocean. Five hundred depths deep, enough to shatter the bones of the average man, and even the bones of a slightly less average man. When amplified by Armament Haki, it transforms into Five-Thousand Depths Drop, which is even deeper.
- Five-Hundred Foot Wave Kick: A standing kick, that launches the target right into the air. It's a powerful strike that shatters the jaw of the target. Well, if it's a human. Famously, this kick was used to knock a whole Navy Vessel Five-Hundred Feet into the air. The impact force is more than enough to be described as "A wave that destroys everything."
- Water Guillotine: Comparable to the famous water-shot. But unlike watershot which is a single drop gathered into a single pinpoint accurate shot, this is a slicing blade. Gathering water on his fin, it is fired out at the target like a blade. The force was enough to cut through the mast of a ship, or even a sea-king. Underwater, its power is even greater. An execution wave that cuts through the ocean, leaving a scar in even the water.
Fighting Style:
