Sloth

• 葉隱 •

You can never go wrong with a fiery redheaded archer.

I may have to rethink Daisuke as a more of a lovable lug now though.

What the heck, let's do it, it probably fits the ox motif better than being hot-blooded.

• 葉隱 •

CS WIP Since everyone's doing it

D a i s u k e

Name

Gyusha Daisuke
牛車 大輔 - Great Helper of the Ox Cart

_{Gyusha, from 牛 (Gyū) meaning "cow, ox, cattle" and 車 (sha) meaning "vehicle"
Daisuke, from 大 (dai) meaning "big, great" and 輔 (suke) meaning "help"}

Age

19

Totem

Ox

Appearance

As his name implies, Daisuke is an uncommonly large young man, both in stature and in sheer virility. Standing a head taller than even other samurai he's met and trained with, Daisuke dwarfs most if not all the common people of Tsukishima, and one would be hard pressed to lose track of him in a crowd even if he were to duck. That's without the added giveaway of his wild, shoulder length mane of brown hair, which he rarely (if ever) seems to tie up into a ponytail.

Many years of the rigorous training expected of a warrior have left Daisuke's muscles well toned, with arms as wide across as small tree trunks and something of a barrel chest. His face is similarly fierce at first glance, with a pug nose, noticeable Adam's apple and a strong jawbone. Daisuke retains the omnipresent black eyes endemic of Tsukishima as a whole and garbs himself in the browns and grays trademarked by his home prefecture. If it isn't one of his weapons or his armor, however, one can expect Daisuke's attire to be nearly as disheveled as its owner.

Personality

Daisuke is a simple man. Too simple, some would say. 'Lacking refinement' seems to be the most often complaint from his contemporaries in the samurai class. Prone to walking the streets of his home village and spending hours simply drinking tea and conversing with other patrons in a tea-house, one cannot say Daisuke isn't personable. Truly, the Gyusha heir seems to enjoy mingling with the commoners in his village more than he does training in his family's dojo.

This is not to say Daisuke is a homebody. Quite the opposite. A large reason he wants to enter into a warrior's pilgrimage is not only to see the rest of his home prefecture, but to explore Tsukishima itself. See the sights, eat the food, meet the people. Maybe knock around a couple of uppity samurai or two.

Strengths

Raw Power: A common saying amongst the townspeople of Ushimura is that Daisuke has the strength to wrestle an oni. While this is an exaggeration to say the least, the young samurai certainly is a force to be reckoned with, thanks in no small part to his rigorous training at the hands of his father Tamotsu in their family's traditional art of (name here).

Kanabojutsu: While still taught the rudimentary techniques of the iconic daishō, the samurai of Wagyu prefecture specialize in the use of the kanabo club, and it goes without saying that Daisuke is no exception. The Gyusha school teaches its practitioners to use pure overwhelming force in the face of adversity. 'There is no defense so absolute that a truly determined opponent cannot break through it.' is a popular tenet of the style, and it certainly shows on the battlefield. Daisuke's kanabo is made from heavy wood with iron spikes and studs on one end. As with everything else about Daisuke, his weapon is larger than standard, standing nearly as tall as he is.

Lovable Lug: Despite his education and the general attitude of most samurai, Daisuke seems to have a way of connecting with the everyday man and woman of Tsukishima. Some of his peers would tell you that Daisuke acts beneath his station (I suck at phrasing things and will come back to this later)

Weaknesses

Bullheaded Honor: When a homie commits he commits ya feel me?

Oafish Demeanor: He hits his head on doorways because not Japan is a bunch of short people ya dig?

Philogynist: Like many young men, Daisuke has a certain weakness for women. While not an outright lech, the heir of the Gyusha has been known to leap into action to valiantly defend a woman's honor in an izakaya or generously donate his own coin to a traveling widow on more than one occasion. Whether he's unknowingly allowing himself to get duped or simply has an unmatched empathy towards the fairer sex is anyone's guess.

葉隠聞書

That title text though.

The Redwatch

The newest Watcher of the Redfort couldn't tell just how long he'd been stuck down in the Deep. It had become exponentially more difficult to tell the time since he found himself surrounded by nothing but pure darkness save for the lit torch in his hand and the faint glow eminating from the cavern behind him. To pass the time, he'd begun whistling a cheery tune, echoing eerily throughout the chamber. Not a song of his own creation, but an old tune popular in Redfield. He had learned it as a boy because the beat of the song paired with his own labored footsteps on the fields of the family farm, and now he stood in the caverns of the Redfort whistling it as if to warm himself.

A lass who bore the light of the town
Her fur of ivory thread
How she danced is stuck in my crown
And back to the Glen my boat led

Cedric reached only the end of the first stanza before it was drowned out by the ominous rumbling of the Fort's elevator and the subsequent cascade of footsteps descending into the Deep. Cedric couldn't help but smile to himself.

"Show time."

It took a good few minutes for all of the recruits to amass themselves into such an admittedly tight passageway. Luckily enough they'd found it in them to remain mostly silent. That made things marginally easier. A group of a dozen or so recruits stood before him in moments. Which was a fair bit less than the members of his own recruiting class.

"First thing's first, welcome to the Watch." Cedric gave the group a courteous nod before continuing. It wasn't a phrase from the speech he was assigned to memorize, but then, Cedric was not a mouse for following instructions by the letter in the first place.

"As my superior has no doubt told you, my name is Cedric. Being the junior member of the order, it's my job to introduce you lot to the perils of your own initiation." he turned sideways and moved towards a sconce at the base of the cavern.

"Follow me."

He led the mice down a short stone pathway, descending further into the darkness of the caverns. Around them, though not close enough to help illuminate their path, were clusters of phosphorescent green mushrooms, casting a dim light in the shadows. The stench of meat grew closer.

"The jist is that I'm going to go further into this big old cavern right here and light a number of torches. You're going to follow those torches back to the top of the Deep. You have until the final torch goes out to complete the trials. Simple enough, right?" he turned back towards the recruits, pulling an unlit torch from the ground and sparking it with a piece of flint.

"If you ignore the cannibals, spiders and pitfalls, at least."

Cedric expected a couple of the recruits would've laughed at that if not for the immediate screech that filled the chamber before they had the opportunity to do so. Instead, he was met with gasps and shrieks when his newly acquired mount made her entrance, emerging from the darkness like a (thinking up mouse metaphors is hard okay). All in all she was a beautiful thing to behold, as were the reactions she was getting. How lucky was he that the Deep was large enough to fly a kestrel through relatively unobstructed?

"Sadly enough, this magnificient bird of prey is not one of your trials."

Cedric approached the beast with all the nonchalance that came with being an experienced pilot. He stroked her beak before putting his left foot in one of the stirrups at her side and pulling himself into the saddle, which was tricky considering the lit torch in his hand. No doubt fear had blinded the majority of the recruits to that little detail, let alone all the unlit torches in a pair of saddlebags. He decided to keep the goodbye short and simple.

"Remember: Follow the torches."

And just like that, he was off.

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP

While I make no promises, I could reuse an old concept for a God of the Seas or the personification of the Sun. I won't request a reservation or anything. Just gunna keep my eye on this one.

A Song of Ice and Fire: The Lives of Four Kings

I'm being dragged here against my will. Send help.

SAGA [An Original Dragon Ball Universe RP] - Recruitment Thread!

Oh shit what.

The Redwatch

Cedric of Groveshire

"Aim higher than any mouse ever has before."

Name:
Cedric of Groveshire, otherwise known as Cedric Sparrowkin or Cedric Shortwhisker

Rank:
Watcher

Appearance:
Cedric is still little more than a child to his more experienced cohorts. He has a handsome coat of fur the color of straw, though his time in Westercroft seems to have made it grow in thicker than usual for a citizen of Redfield. Aside from that, he looks every bit the everyday Redfielder, with rounded ears, a tail, and all the rest. Other than his white cloak and rapier, Cedric's most notable piece of attire is a pair of aged flight goggles worn either around his neck or just above his eyes. He has seemingly taken up the habit of trimming his whiskers, supposedly in an effort to become more aerodynamic. He has yet to gather any amount of scars during his time in the Redwatch, something his colleagues have said speaks volumes about his inexperience. Cedric likes to say it's a sign of his superb abilities.

Personality:
In many ways, Cedric Sparrowkin is still every bit the farmer's son he was when he first entered the Redfort. He still speaks plainly and he still holds the watch in high regard, despite coming face to face with some of the grimmer realities of membership in the order. Most of all, he remains every bit as reckless and daring. He is quick to laugh and make light of the dangers of his chosen profession, which makes him popular amongst his fellow young pilots but garners him no small amount of resentment from the more experienced flight jockeys. Some of whom say Cedric is either fearless, half mad, or both. Most of all, Cedric seems to emulate his late mentor as much as he can. Nonetheless, he remains an affable and, according to some, heroic example of what a mouse of the watch should be.

Stats:
STR: 7
CON: 7
DEX: 15
CHA: 15
INT: 10
LUC: 11

Equipment:
Flight Goggles (2)
Rapier (3)

Traits:

Trade:
Prior to his induction to the Redwatch, Cedric had been training to become a farmhand

Friend:
Name here -

Enemy:
Brennan of Blackhill - A Westercroft native from the same recruiting class as Cedric who was also selected to become a sparrowrider. The two quickly became rivals all throughout their training. Brennan has yet to learn of Cedric's new task as the very first kestrel pilot in the Watch.

History: Was a farmer in Redfield. Joined the Redwatch. Became a pilot.

The Redwatch

Oi m8 I suck at these basic sheet things goddamn.

"Aim higher than any mouse ever has before."

Name:
Cedric Sparrowkin, formerly known as Cedric of Groveshire

Rank:
Watcher

Appearance:
Cedric is still little more than a child to his more experienced cohorts. He has a handsome coat of light brown fur, and other than his larger than average ears and slightly too long whiskers, he has the average look of a stereotypical citizen of Redfield. He has yet to gather any amount of scars during his time in the Redwatch, something his colleagues have said speaks volumes about his inexperience. Cedric likes to say it's a sign of his superb abilities. Most notably, Cedric wears a fencing glove on his left paw and a longsword on his right waist, a stark contrast to his nature as a sparrow rider. Cedric's newly made cloak is straight white.

Personality:
In many ways, Cedric Sparrowkin is still every bit the farmer's son he was when he first entered the Redfort. He still speaks plainly and he still holds the watch in high regard. Most of all, he remains every bit as reckless and daring. He is quick to laugh and make light of the dangers of his chosen profession, which makes him popular amongst his fellow young pilots but garners him no small amount of resentment from the more experienced flight jockeys. Some of whom say Cedric is either fearless, half mad, or both. But no one has been able to deny his skills on sparrowback. Maybe the harsh realities of service in the Watch will eventually get to him, but for now, Cedric remains an amiable and, in his own words, heroic example of a Watchmouse.

Sloth's Sporadic Sheet Storage System

Work in Progress for "The Work and the Shoot"

W o l f f

_{Image coming soon to a bingo hall near you}

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T h e W o r k

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_{R I N G N A M E}

Randall Wolff

_{G I M M I C K}

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_{B I L L E D H E I G H T & W E I G H T}

7'0" | 295 lbs

_{B I L L E D F R O M}

Parts Unknown

_{A L I G N M E N T}

Heel

_{E N T R A N C E T H E M E}

Either I Wanna Be Your Dog or Bark at the Moon

_{M O V E S}

Powerbomb: You know what a powerbomb is (More coming soon)

_{W R E S T L I N G S T Y L E}

He's a hoss (More coming soon)

_{T A L E O F T H E T A P E}

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T h e S h o o t

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_{N A M E}

Brandon A. Hoffmann

_{A G E}

TBD (12/21/19XX)

_{H E I G H T & W E I G H T}

6'8" | 285 lbs

_{H O M E T O W N}

Rock Creek, Minnesota

_{R E P U T A T I O N}

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_{H I S T O R Y}

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_{M I C S K I L L S}

Randall Wolff is a trademark instance of "less is more" when it comes to cutting promos. He shows up, says very little, and generally just looks larger than life and intimidating as heck. When he is called upon to say more than few short sentences, Wolff makes sure to keep his voice low and menacing in an effort to make the audience hang on every word he says, almost in spite of his gargantaun size and physique. He claims to have adopted this style of promo from one of his first mentors in the wrestling business, "Cobra" Cain Williams. (More to be added?)

_{M O T I V A T I O N}

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_{H I N D R A N C E}

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