kermit
04-18-2009, 05:51 PM
Username: --- Kermit
GENERAL
Name: --- [F/L] 蓮 山下, Ren Yamashita
Gender: --- Male
Age: --- 17
School: --- Higashi High
School Clubs: --- None (However, Ren is required to undergo at least 4 hours a week with a shrink due to his mental illness)
Skill Stats: ---
• Stamina: 10
• Strength: 7
• Defence: 8
• Speed: 15
• Total Skill Points: 40.
Status: --- F-class
A-T Information: ---
http://i489.photobucket.com/albums/rr256/kermit_SS/Renboot-1.jpg
• Modelled on the New Deshi Carbon boot
• Radical new Carbon fibre/ soft boot combination design
• Inbuilt Silika shock absorption system
• Extra Velcro secure strap
• Standard White wheels and frames
• Custom added white skull on the heel section of the boot
LOOKS
http://www.modelresource.ca/Scene/Feb09/hugo_1.jpg
Eye Colour: --- Dark Green Iris pigmentation
Hair Colour: --- Dyed from originally light Blonde to a rich raven Black
Skin Tone: --- Caucasian, Pale
Height/Weight: --- 5”9 / approx.70Kg
Blood-type: --- Universal Donor, O-negative
Overall Appearance: ---
With his piercing green eyes, dyed black hair, and princely face Ren could actually pass himself off for a model. That just wouldn’t be Ren though; even in the baking heat of the summer, it’s not uncommon to see Ren walking proudly down the sidewalk with a full face of black and white facial make-up. Ren is built more for athleticism than brute strength, un-like a typical spanner-wielding engineer. His style is very gothic, to the point of wearing things like gas masks and fishnet vests to school (because of his mental illness, Ren is not required to wear the normal uniform of Higashi high). His favourite piece of clothing is his own tailored formal shirt, made completely of different pieces of black fabric all hand-sewn back together in any particular fashion. That and his slim-fit black trousers with in-sewn Neon tubes from “Cyberdog”, a unique store located in Camden Market, that specializes in gothic and alternative clothing.
PERSONALITY
Likes: -• Cyberdog clothing.
• Sadistic Jokes/ Evil humour.
• Bond Villains.
• Other gothic people (he won’t even talk to you if you’re not wearing black, even his psychiatrist was forced to wear black).
• Greed.
• Money.
• Eyeliner and white facial makeup, Oshiroi, used by kabukis.
• Awkward silences.
• Motorcycles.
Dislikes: -
• Anything that isn’t black.
• Sunny dispositions.
• Dogs, irrational fear.
Hobbies: -
• Clubbing
• Motorcycles (see History.)
• ATs
Fears: --- Finding out whom his father is and being disappointed
Goals: --- To restore a written off Harley Davidson Motorcycle (see History.)
Overall Personality: ---
If you were completely new to Higashi High, you might be forgiven for not knowing who Ren Yamashita was. I think it’s important to view Ren in a school environment, as this is where the most brutally honest judgements on a person’s character are forged, within the heated coals of the education system. Ren is well known for his peculiar sense of fashion and style throughout the class and staff-rooms alike. On a bad day, when his mysterious, and as of yet un-named, mental illness is really affecting him, he’s been known to uphold a complete ban on communication with any and everybody save his beloved Uncle Dom. Not that anyone in school knows of Dominic’s existence. Rumours are rife in the lower parts of the school that Ren is actually the bogeyman himself. When you see a senior student walking around in a gas mask in the middle of the day, you’d make up weird rumours too!
Outside of school, the clothing doesn’t change; the Cyberdog logo can still be seen littering his clothing. He still walks around like he owns the place, and people still enjoy a good long stare at the oddity that is so wonderfully encapsulated by his very being. On the rare occasion when someone does actually approach him in person to ask him a question, Ren usually won’t dignify it with a response. So far, Higashi high has only yielded 3 people who’ve ever gotten a direct answer from him and one of them was the school’s Psychiatrist, Dr. Yoshiro. Somehow the crafty Dr.Yoshiro managed to figure out Ren’s affinity to Motorcycles and this forms the basis of their discussions during their 4 weekly hour long sessions. The topic never really changes, although the parts and pieces of the motorcycle their chatting about usually do.Carberettors, motors, pistons, exhausts and even seats have easily fulfilled a whole 60 minutes of conversation before. The other two people that forced answers of him interested him, at least for a little bit. That’s gothic twins for you...
On the inside Ren is usually fairly placid, and his silent exterior allows for his mind to wander aimlessly around different subjects; motorcycles and auto-repair mainly. Not to say that he’s a soft and sweet child on the inside; people might say that he was “the same on the sidewalk as he was in his very own home”, if he could have his inheritance, that is. So he’s just as barbarically satirical in his thoughts as he is in his words, a consistent flaw, perhaps.
HISTORY
Birthplace: --- Tokyo
Birth-date: --- January 17th 1992
Birth-time: --- 12:26pm
Parents: --- Maria Yamashita (Deceased), Sperm donor [# 12657, Tokyo Bank]
Other family: --- Uncle, Dominic Yamashita
Overall History: ---
Maria Yamashita was a level-headed businesswoman who put her work before her social life. Boss’s described her as a well-working and ethical lady, who never gave any problems. However, perhaps she left things a bit too late, and shortly after giving birth to her artificially conceived son, Ren Yamashita, at the age of 38 she was killed in a tragic drink driving accident. Oh, she didn’t touch alcohol, she was T-total. But the driver of the car that hit the pedestrian at 80Mph was, and that was what mattered. Ren was robbed of his Mother, before he could even say her name and know her, save for her soft embrace and warm bosom.
************
After a long stint in foster care, being permanently dissatisfied with the various cheerful couples he was forced to stay with, Ren managed to contact his Uncle, Dominic Yamashita. Within a few months he was allowed to leave the fostering system and live full-time with his Mother’s Brother, at the tender age of 12. Dominic lives in a large detached house, located next to the garage and auto-repair and maintenance shop that he also owns. After a few days of sitting idly whilst Dominic went about the place, replacing spark plugs and check fluid levels, Ren plucked up the courage to ask if he could have a go. Over the next few years he grew into a real grease monkey, specializing in the repair of Motorcycles. One of Ren’s ambitions is to restore a Harley Davidson FXCW Softail Rocker that was written off in a road accident that left a friend of Dominic’s in a wheelchair for the rest of his days. Although, with his current obsession with ATs, who knows when he’ll get around to tinkering with it?
EXTRA
Role-play Sample: ---
It was sweltering outside; even the usually tight-collared Maths teacher, Mr. Fujiwara, looked like he wanted to start using the textbook to fan himself instead of teach with it. And strangely enough, Ren Yamashita sat quietly at the back of the classroom, calmly listening to the old and slightly overweight faculty member. He didn’t fidget in the slightest, not a single rivulet of sweat could be seen accumulating upon his brow. Which was good, because that would’ve meant that his immaculately prepared black and white tribal face make-up was smearing? Ren wasn’t your average student; well, his grades were, but his personality was incomparable to any of his peers. How many other students of Higashi high could claim to know the complete inner workings of a complex automotive machine? None, not even those nerdy bastards who kept on inviting him to their so called Engineering club. Maybe, one day, he’d get to the bottom of how they knew he worked away his spare hours in his uncles workshop. It was too much hassle though.
He went back to listening; the hands of the clock had shifted by 10 minutes. It was too short a period to have had one of his lapses again, surely. He didn’t like what his Uncle Dominic had told him he’d witnessed when he’d suddenly blanked out in the middle of the garage. He only ever seemed to start day-dreaming and then “POW!” he’d wake up and the room would look untidy. As if someone had quickly attempted to place things back upright after they’d all been knocked over. Dr. Yoshiro said something about his condition as something akin to Bi-polar or multiple personality disorder, except that when he did go into these fits, he didn’t switch a personality. He didn’t even appear to display one whilst he simply went and trashed the room. Maybe if he wasn’t such a quietly destructive person to begin with, then they might be able to slap a nice big stamp on his psychiatric file and start dishing out some pills. Whatever! Ah, had it really gone forward another 10 minutes? The day-dreaming continued unabated until the end of the session, until the lunch bell went.
The rest of the class filed out happily talking about various crappy events and happening that they called social lives. Ren was always slow to put his things away at the end of yet another lesson; maybe just so that he could quietly slip his gas mask on and go and find a nice quiet place to go and be alone for a bit. The result of his findings today, was a small boiler room, located on the third floor of the science department. It had a tiny little window inset into the cold hard cinder-blocks that its walls consisted of. It was so nice and quiet here, save for the low-pitch rumble of the hot-water system in the corner of the room. Why had he come to such a small desolate room, which was basically untouched by all but the most begrudging of janitors? Because it was his room. The walls were littered with various food label stickers, evidence of his snacking.” Oh, so that guy Ren does actually eat things? I heard he was a vegan! Yeah me too!” What a bunch of ignorant bastards. He laughed into his small lunchbox, on loan from his Uncle.
Replacing his Lunch-box come spare tool box into his large black rucksack, Ren took something else out. The small amount of light that did enter the room was suddenly reflected and refracted beautifully, as a small section of carbon fibre was illuminated. These were his new prize possessions; a gleaming pair of uber-expensive ATs. The new design was sleek and efficient, and the shiny boot-base shone back at him like the exhaust of a pristine motorcycle. It really was something to behold; these $500+ “toys”, as his uncle dubbed them, had never even been worn. The wheels had never even gained their first full revolution. Why had he even spent so much money on them in the first place? They were hideously expensive after all and he was probably one of the only kids in the school with a decent enough wage-packet, to have bought them with his own hard-earned cash. He spun the wheel with a slight hesitation; a feeling that was quickly replaced with a sense of aesthetic pleasure. The bearings were perfectly set, so that a not even a single note, could be heard from the revolution.
Gently he undid the black laces and put the shoes gingerly upon his foot. What the hell, these things were so unexpectedly light! Why had he spent so much hard-earned currency on a basically non-existent mass? And then, the shoes bleeped at him. It was a surreal experience, to have one’s own clothing attempting to talk to him. “...Err...” He stood up, and tried to get a feel for wearing these shoes. They were insanely comfortable. He rolled around the small enclosed space, in a tight circle, so that he could say that he’d actually ridden the things. They bleeped at him once more; these shoes were way to talkative. His own shoes reminded him so much of his yammering classmates. It was like being attached to one of them by a pair of very stiff, yet very well-fitting pair of shoes. Donning his standard issue SAS gas mask once again, he crept to the doorway, deciding to leave his stuff were it lay. It was an assured thing that prying fingers wouldn’t find the bag until it’s master had long since returned to collect it. He looked like some kind of futuristic killer robot on wheels, as he smoothly accelerated down the corridor. Maybe he’d find a nice place to ambush a small kid from the lower part of the school, and make him shit themselves or something. He was a bastard, but at least he was truly and consistently a bastard... Yes, you could always rely on Ren to be thinking of something diabolical to do with his spare time.
GENERAL
Name: --- [F/L] 蓮 山下, Ren Yamashita
Gender: --- Male
Age: --- 17
School: --- Higashi High
School Clubs: --- None (However, Ren is required to undergo at least 4 hours a week with a shrink due to his mental illness)
Skill Stats: ---
• Stamina: 10
• Strength: 7
• Defence: 8
• Speed: 15
• Total Skill Points: 40.
Status: --- F-class
A-T Information: ---
http://i489.photobucket.com/albums/rr256/kermit_SS/Renboot-1.jpg
• Modelled on the New Deshi Carbon boot
• Radical new Carbon fibre/ soft boot combination design
• Inbuilt Silika shock absorption system
• Extra Velcro secure strap
• Standard White wheels and frames
• Custom added white skull on the heel section of the boot
LOOKS
http://www.modelresource.ca/Scene/Feb09/hugo_1.jpg
Eye Colour: --- Dark Green Iris pigmentation
Hair Colour: --- Dyed from originally light Blonde to a rich raven Black
Skin Tone: --- Caucasian, Pale
Height/Weight: --- 5”9 / approx.70Kg
Blood-type: --- Universal Donor, O-negative
Overall Appearance: ---
With his piercing green eyes, dyed black hair, and princely face Ren could actually pass himself off for a model. That just wouldn’t be Ren though; even in the baking heat of the summer, it’s not uncommon to see Ren walking proudly down the sidewalk with a full face of black and white facial make-up. Ren is built more for athleticism than brute strength, un-like a typical spanner-wielding engineer. His style is very gothic, to the point of wearing things like gas masks and fishnet vests to school (because of his mental illness, Ren is not required to wear the normal uniform of Higashi high). His favourite piece of clothing is his own tailored formal shirt, made completely of different pieces of black fabric all hand-sewn back together in any particular fashion. That and his slim-fit black trousers with in-sewn Neon tubes from “Cyberdog”, a unique store located in Camden Market, that specializes in gothic and alternative clothing.
PERSONALITY
Likes: -• Cyberdog clothing.
• Sadistic Jokes/ Evil humour.
• Bond Villains.
• Other gothic people (he won’t even talk to you if you’re not wearing black, even his psychiatrist was forced to wear black).
• Greed.
• Money.
• Eyeliner and white facial makeup, Oshiroi, used by kabukis.
• Awkward silences.
• Motorcycles.
Dislikes: -
• Anything that isn’t black.
• Sunny dispositions.
• Dogs, irrational fear.
Hobbies: -
• Clubbing
• Motorcycles (see History.)
• ATs
Fears: --- Finding out whom his father is and being disappointed
Goals: --- To restore a written off Harley Davidson Motorcycle (see History.)
Overall Personality: ---
If you were completely new to Higashi High, you might be forgiven for not knowing who Ren Yamashita was. I think it’s important to view Ren in a school environment, as this is where the most brutally honest judgements on a person’s character are forged, within the heated coals of the education system. Ren is well known for his peculiar sense of fashion and style throughout the class and staff-rooms alike. On a bad day, when his mysterious, and as of yet un-named, mental illness is really affecting him, he’s been known to uphold a complete ban on communication with any and everybody save his beloved Uncle Dom. Not that anyone in school knows of Dominic’s existence. Rumours are rife in the lower parts of the school that Ren is actually the bogeyman himself. When you see a senior student walking around in a gas mask in the middle of the day, you’d make up weird rumours too!
Outside of school, the clothing doesn’t change; the Cyberdog logo can still be seen littering his clothing. He still walks around like he owns the place, and people still enjoy a good long stare at the oddity that is so wonderfully encapsulated by his very being. On the rare occasion when someone does actually approach him in person to ask him a question, Ren usually won’t dignify it with a response. So far, Higashi high has only yielded 3 people who’ve ever gotten a direct answer from him and one of them was the school’s Psychiatrist, Dr. Yoshiro. Somehow the crafty Dr.Yoshiro managed to figure out Ren’s affinity to Motorcycles and this forms the basis of their discussions during their 4 weekly hour long sessions. The topic never really changes, although the parts and pieces of the motorcycle their chatting about usually do.Carberettors, motors, pistons, exhausts and even seats have easily fulfilled a whole 60 minutes of conversation before. The other two people that forced answers of him interested him, at least for a little bit. That’s gothic twins for you...
On the inside Ren is usually fairly placid, and his silent exterior allows for his mind to wander aimlessly around different subjects; motorcycles and auto-repair mainly. Not to say that he’s a soft and sweet child on the inside; people might say that he was “the same on the sidewalk as he was in his very own home”, if he could have his inheritance, that is. So he’s just as barbarically satirical in his thoughts as he is in his words, a consistent flaw, perhaps.
HISTORY
Birthplace: --- Tokyo
Birth-date: --- January 17th 1992
Birth-time: --- 12:26pm
Parents: --- Maria Yamashita (Deceased), Sperm donor [# 12657, Tokyo Bank]
Other family: --- Uncle, Dominic Yamashita
Overall History: ---
Maria Yamashita was a level-headed businesswoman who put her work before her social life. Boss’s described her as a well-working and ethical lady, who never gave any problems. However, perhaps she left things a bit too late, and shortly after giving birth to her artificially conceived son, Ren Yamashita, at the age of 38 she was killed in a tragic drink driving accident. Oh, she didn’t touch alcohol, she was T-total. But the driver of the car that hit the pedestrian at 80Mph was, and that was what mattered. Ren was robbed of his Mother, before he could even say her name and know her, save for her soft embrace and warm bosom.
************
After a long stint in foster care, being permanently dissatisfied with the various cheerful couples he was forced to stay with, Ren managed to contact his Uncle, Dominic Yamashita. Within a few months he was allowed to leave the fostering system and live full-time with his Mother’s Brother, at the tender age of 12. Dominic lives in a large detached house, located next to the garage and auto-repair and maintenance shop that he also owns. After a few days of sitting idly whilst Dominic went about the place, replacing spark plugs and check fluid levels, Ren plucked up the courage to ask if he could have a go. Over the next few years he grew into a real grease monkey, specializing in the repair of Motorcycles. One of Ren’s ambitions is to restore a Harley Davidson FXCW Softail Rocker that was written off in a road accident that left a friend of Dominic’s in a wheelchair for the rest of his days. Although, with his current obsession with ATs, who knows when he’ll get around to tinkering with it?
EXTRA
Role-play Sample: ---
It was sweltering outside; even the usually tight-collared Maths teacher, Mr. Fujiwara, looked like he wanted to start using the textbook to fan himself instead of teach with it. And strangely enough, Ren Yamashita sat quietly at the back of the classroom, calmly listening to the old and slightly overweight faculty member. He didn’t fidget in the slightest, not a single rivulet of sweat could be seen accumulating upon his brow. Which was good, because that would’ve meant that his immaculately prepared black and white tribal face make-up was smearing? Ren wasn’t your average student; well, his grades were, but his personality was incomparable to any of his peers. How many other students of Higashi high could claim to know the complete inner workings of a complex automotive machine? None, not even those nerdy bastards who kept on inviting him to their so called Engineering club. Maybe, one day, he’d get to the bottom of how they knew he worked away his spare hours in his uncles workshop. It was too much hassle though.
He went back to listening; the hands of the clock had shifted by 10 minutes. It was too short a period to have had one of his lapses again, surely. He didn’t like what his Uncle Dominic had told him he’d witnessed when he’d suddenly blanked out in the middle of the garage. He only ever seemed to start day-dreaming and then “POW!” he’d wake up and the room would look untidy. As if someone had quickly attempted to place things back upright after they’d all been knocked over. Dr. Yoshiro said something about his condition as something akin to Bi-polar or multiple personality disorder, except that when he did go into these fits, he didn’t switch a personality. He didn’t even appear to display one whilst he simply went and trashed the room. Maybe if he wasn’t such a quietly destructive person to begin with, then they might be able to slap a nice big stamp on his psychiatric file and start dishing out some pills. Whatever! Ah, had it really gone forward another 10 minutes? The day-dreaming continued unabated until the end of the session, until the lunch bell went.
The rest of the class filed out happily talking about various crappy events and happening that they called social lives. Ren was always slow to put his things away at the end of yet another lesson; maybe just so that he could quietly slip his gas mask on and go and find a nice quiet place to go and be alone for a bit. The result of his findings today, was a small boiler room, located on the third floor of the science department. It had a tiny little window inset into the cold hard cinder-blocks that its walls consisted of. It was so nice and quiet here, save for the low-pitch rumble of the hot-water system in the corner of the room. Why had he come to such a small desolate room, which was basically untouched by all but the most begrudging of janitors? Because it was his room. The walls were littered with various food label stickers, evidence of his snacking.” Oh, so that guy Ren does actually eat things? I heard he was a vegan! Yeah me too!” What a bunch of ignorant bastards. He laughed into his small lunchbox, on loan from his Uncle.
Replacing his Lunch-box come spare tool box into his large black rucksack, Ren took something else out. The small amount of light that did enter the room was suddenly reflected and refracted beautifully, as a small section of carbon fibre was illuminated. These were his new prize possessions; a gleaming pair of uber-expensive ATs. The new design was sleek and efficient, and the shiny boot-base shone back at him like the exhaust of a pristine motorcycle. It really was something to behold; these $500+ “toys”, as his uncle dubbed them, had never even been worn. The wheels had never even gained their first full revolution. Why had he even spent so much money on them in the first place? They were hideously expensive after all and he was probably one of the only kids in the school with a decent enough wage-packet, to have bought them with his own hard-earned cash. He spun the wheel with a slight hesitation; a feeling that was quickly replaced with a sense of aesthetic pleasure. The bearings were perfectly set, so that a not even a single note, could be heard from the revolution.
Gently he undid the black laces and put the shoes gingerly upon his foot. What the hell, these things were so unexpectedly light! Why had he spent so much hard-earned currency on a basically non-existent mass? And then, the shoes bleeped at him. It was a surreal experience, to have one’s own clothing attempting to talk to him. “...Err...” He stood up, and tried to get a feel for wearing these shoes. They were insanely comfortable. He rolled around the small enclosed space, in a tight circle, so that he could say that he’d actually ridden the things. They bleeped at him once more; these shoes were way to talkative. His own shoes reminded him so much of his yammering classmates. It was like being attached to one of them by a pair of very stiff, yet very well-fitting pair of shoes. Donning his standard issue SAS gas mask once again, he crept to the doorway, deciding to leave his stuff were it lay. It was an assured thing that prying fingers wouldn’t find the bag until it’s master had long since returned to collect it. He looked like some kind of futuristic killer robot on wheels, as he smoothly accelerated down the corridor. Maybe he’d find a nice place to ambush a small kid from the lower part of the school, and make him shit themselves or something. He was a bastard, but at least he was truly and consistently a bastard... Yes, you could always rely on Ren to be thinking of something diabolical to do with his spare time.