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Randall "Roash" Ikagi - Human Elite
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Randall "Roash" Ikagi - Human Elite
Roash Ikagi Sat Oct 08, 2011 12:59 am
H U M A N - E L I T E
IS THIS THE GUY?
IS THIS THE GUY?
Japanese Name: Randall Ikagi
Birth-Name: Greg Thomas
Alias: Roash
Age: 33yrs
Physical Age: 25yrs
Birthday: July 27th
Gender: Male
Loyalties: Self /Formerly: Lucky Club/Jundo House (Limited Alliance)
Rank: Human Elite
JUST WHAT IS HE MADE OF?
Height: 173cm / 6ftWeight: 77.1kg / 170lbs
Hair: Crimson-red in color and darker at the roots.
Mostly untamed; he most-likely cuts it himself.
Eyes: Olive green eyes that lack depth. His eyes are shaped in a method that suggests a cynical character.
Physical Structure: Randall is mostly-average. His skin complex is somewhat tan, but his complexion also reflects his mixed blood of American & Japanese. As a working-class human Roash is in decent shape, but is nothing special without the aid of raw rieatsu. His body type is moderately toned; unimpressive. He is handsome enough to be acceptable, but isn't the first choice of most random women.
Roash sports a face that suggests he is a thinker, but can and will express his opinion often.
Slow Aging: Due to his body sharing a bond with the power of Shoki the Demon Queller, Roash has adopted the attribute of being slow to expire. He will undoubtedly live two to three times longer than a standard human being.
Clothing & Style: Roash dresses in a variety of clothing, but always maintains a theme of fitted urban apparel and mute colors. He garments are generally tuned to the weather. Roash has no specific items or tools on-hand.
GOOD-GUY TRAITS
- Intelligent: Roash is a wasteful intellectual. His skill in common-sense is incredibly high, which will generally help him void of most sticky situations. However, even with exceptional intellect he doesn't indulge it with excess studying. Instead, Roash prefers to learn via experience.
- Persistent:This is one sturdy guy. It's difficult to persuade Roash in any fashion, good or bad as he is quite stubborn. This is effective as it makes him difficult to stop once his confidence is high.
- Self-sufficient: Though he is not a loner, Roash has tendencies to work alone. He does well for himself, by himself.
- Humble:Roash holds self-respect, but doesn't think himself to be special. In fact, he purely recognizes his place as just another member of society even-though he can see what regular people cannot.
- Flexible: He knows how to deal with people and act according to the situation.
BAD-BOY TRAITS
- Careless: When it comes down to most things, Roash just doesn't give a fuck. There are a few cases where he will make an exception to this definition, but it is rare for him to.
- Realist: He is easy to give up... Roash won't fight a fight that he is positive he cannot win. He'll flee first, or simply allow himself to be defeated rather than drag things out.
- Pessimistic: Roash always looks at the worst possible outcome in any given situation, and prepares to overcome that issue or give in.
- Complainant: It isn't beyond Roash to bitch when he doesn't like what's going on, or to simply call it quits and move on.
- Kleptomania: The wise man never lets anything go to waste, even if it isn't his. Roash isn't beyond stealing, and does it at least twice a day. Watch your shit.
EXTRA SAUCE:
- Roash is one of those characters who can be comedic, but rarely cracks jokes. He comes with a host of phrases, and if he believes he has the upper-hand he'll throw out his catch-phrase "Well if you're feeling froggy, leap."
- Randall is kinda blatant is letting you know if he doesn't care about what you want or have for him. He isn't heartless or rude, but he won't pretend to be or do something he can't.
- The nickname Roash is commonly used by friends and acquaintances. It is a play on words from the word Roach, referring to both his habit of smoking, and the insect... Let it be known that Randall hates insects.
- Randall has a multitude of skills that can prove to be both useful and absolutely useless. He is a brilliant motor-scooter mechanic AND a cactus groomer; among many other skills.
- Randall can seemingly use a cactus for running gags at any moment. It is not understood where he constantly gets these red cacti from, but he always has one for a joke.
- Though he was born and raised Japanese, Randall speaks with a rough English accent and doesn't use -honorifics at the end of names.
"WHO COULD'VE GUESSED HE HAD IT IN HIM?"
Fullbring First Manifestation: Unnamed | UnnamedThrough a burning cigarette Randall unleashes a smoldering fabrication of reiatsu and seething cinders. This manifest may be used in a variety of fashions from plumes of seething dust, to hardening into objects crafted from hardened ash. Due to ingenuity beyond the common level, Randall is capable of creating most of what his imagination can picture. However, not everything he creates proves effective in battle. He manages to fail often, resulting in painful outcomes.
Randall's Fullbring is harnessed initially by the renewing calm achieved when he smokes. In a situation where he believes it to be "over" he resolves to have a last smoke before it bursts into the initial "Beast of Cinders" erupts over him. After the initial "striking" Randall may freely manipulate the Fullbring into several forms, getting significantly more skilled with time. The defensive nature of Randall's Fullbring stands as the defining difference between this Fullbring and other fire-nature spiritual manifestations.
Second Stage Release: Shoki | The Demon Queller
From Eastern legend Roash has arisen in a form advanced from that of a mere human. He has become an embodiment of Shoki, the Demon Queller. No longer does Roash call upon the fires of flames, as he is now endowed with the power of a demi-kami. His strength has manifested into the ability to destroy impure flesh with a poisonous Miasma composed from his own body, which is similar to that of a "hollowed" Human.
Freely: Roash is capable of creating a crimson miasma, akin to his control of smoke & ash in his previous "fullbringer" form. This Miasma is composed of Reiatsu from his own soul despite flowing from his body when transformed. Also, like his fullbringing ability, Roash is capable of converting himself into this Miasma and back to his Demi-kami form at will.
The poison courses through his flesh in this form, meaning that he is poisonous to the touch (to all beings both living and spiritual). Once exposed, the target will have reactions dependent upon their spiritual resistance; the physical reaction is similar to that of any high-speed venom. The body-parts exposed to the Miasma will erode, beginning with the lungs if inhaled directly. Items such as clothing and armor hardly serve as a defense to this gas, but can reduce exposure on a logical level.
In the worst cases of exposure to a weak target, their body can be eroded to the form of a grease-spot almost instantaneously. Behold: the Demon Queller has Risen.
Note: The constraints of the venom will be prescribed per technique used, but the general law of exposure will be based on a comparison of the spirit stat. Ex.: The foe touches Roash: a lack of appropriate spirit should result in physical erosion.
Second Stage Release Appearance: Unnamed |Unnamed
Anatomy: He who was once man, has become something more. In this advanced form, his body has begun to adopt hollow-like traits, namely a hardened physique and pale skin. He is notably enhanced as muscles are defined, down to the veins which sit on top of them with their feint-blue hue.
When revealed, Roash's face has hardly changed aside from the infection of black sclera in his eyes, which make his pupils nearly glow in contrast. His tongue seems stained black as if he were eating licorice non-stop. His hair has become somewhat longer, while remaining mostly the same along the front of his brow and temples. It seems bright like the sun in contrast to his skin, like blood on the pavement. About his body are several random, hardened portions of skin that appear cracked; these are products of his first transformed state, and come from changing stages of matter. They are not weak-points, if anything they are somewhat tougher than the rest of his body's dermis-layer. Upon taking a direct hit, Roash's skin may crack in that region, only to regenerate following a phase-change.
Clothing/Armor: Visually, Roash has become more hollow-like, but only mocks the form. In his transformed state, Roash emerges in a white coat with rolled up sleeves. Several patches of gray fur line the coat in skewed lines which trail from the shoulders down his back. The jacket is hooded with a broken skull of a baboon lining the front of the brim. Upon transforming Roash's eye-line will be hidden below this white skull, much like a hollow-mask. However, Roash will naturally peel this hood back, revealing his usual scowl. Below this jacket Roash bears nothing aside from pale skin. Roash's lower body remains composes similarly to before, rocking black slacks with a gray design of billowing clouds embroidered along the legs. At Roash's waist is a tilted leather belt which wraps around him twice, and holds two ungodly pistols in holsters.
Weaponry: In this form, Roash's weapon has also evolved as he now sports a new gun in a silver-trimmed holster at his waist. When holstered, the pistol looks much like an ordinary weapon, but when drawn it is revealed to be a dual-action weapon. This weapon is known as a gun-sword; a weapon capable of firing as a large pistol [i]and be expanded into a sword following a single lever flick. This gun-sword uses hardened Miasma as ammo, taking a step beyond Roash's traditional combat weapon.
Note: The gun-sword is only a weapon applicable to general fullbring use (such as hardening, FB Combo, etc), and is not a special effect weapon.
F L A S H B A C K
The Origin of Randall Ikagi:
What a boring birth.
A single mother birthed Greg years ago. Sheila, a former America girl who has found herself making profit in the slums of Tokyo doing dirty business as a prostitute. She is in high-demand as an American white woman, but meets trouble after becoming pregnant; this is her first great burden.
After Greg is born, Sheila finds herself unable to take care of this child while in her line of work, and decides to give him to two loving foster parents rather than sacrifice her entire way of life. The following two parents love Greg as their own, but in order to help integrate him into their traditional Japanese, they change his name to Randall.
Hi-spec Randall:
Randall's childhood is entirely normal, with only the occasional sensation of a creeping feeling, as if he is being watched or followed. Though Randall is aware that his mother was a prostitute, he is also aware that she died years ago. It was all over the news: a string of prostitute killings in Tokyo by a single serial killer. By this time Randall is a young teen rebelling against his foster parents and spends his time in the streets in order to manage his aggression. As a teen he does it all; though Randall was never the type to roll with a gang he finds himself in trouble with just about everything from selling dope to helping friends with "property reclaims".
For years, Randall has been followed by Sheila in plus soul form. She has watched him sense her death, as he always existed as a form of regret for her. Though Randall has always felt her presence, he dismisses it until that fateful night where she was finally taken by a hollow... The same hollow that killed her when he was a human man.
This final moment, the destruction of his birth-mother forces a full recognition of his surroundings as it occurred behind his very back. Forced to flee in absolute fear, Randall meets his nameless tormentor for the first time; a mighty hollow with a creeping centipede-like body which hunts him fervently since then. After this moment, Randall has become the target of this ever-hunting hollow after it discovers that Randall was indeed Sheila’s offspring.
The Wayward Wind:
Since becoming the target of that hollow as a teen, Randall has lived on the move as it still hunts him to this day. For five years this hollow has plagued Randall; and though he has been successful in staying lost from it, the hollow still finds him every few months. As a result, Randall has lost his most important relationships as he was either called crazy, or they were killed during times where the hollow attacked him.
Randall has since traveled majority of Japan, and a few other islands only to make his way to Karakura Town. Currently, Randall has settled down in Karakura as a regular go-to-guy for odd jobs around town. He is a local renaissance-man.
F R A G M E N T S
The Fragments are Roash's memories. These memories are comprised of adventures and moments in his life prior to his times during Roleplay. The Fragments are all listed according to the featured character. Some are far more prevalent to his character than others, but every memory provides a meaning behind the man we see today.
- Fragment 00: Greg Thomas:
Entertain me with concepts of humanity. Preach to me the word; your words about morals. Man's preachings of the truth and goodness mean nothing to me now: they are all lies, flowing like placenta from the ruptured womb. Our society is the rotten still-born child, discarded by it's mother. The human race lays still-born while a realm beyond us feeds on our souls like vermin.
I am not content with our status quo, but I know better than to seek change. There is a relevance to "the balance" between the living and the dead. However, I will serve as maintainer and modifier, by choice. Let the sheep remain blind and ready to be served: ignorance after all, is bliss. But it is my decision to modify the line between the living and the dead as needed.
I am man, born with the might to judge: I may purge, protect, uplift, kill, destroy, and obliterate. I have become the filter under the befalling carnage that razes people who know not of their faults.
I am Greg Thomas, also known as Randall Ikagi: and I now live as judge, jury, and executioner.
- Fragment 01: Abby Roads:
Fragment 01: Abby Roads
There are many stages to life: from birth, to death, and back with rebirth. We are all born into this life as people believing that there is life and there is death. That our lives are the height of absolute existence. We are taught to cherish the life we have for it is the only one we will ever get. Death is an enigma for which we do not understand, but merely consider a possibility. To consider the after-life as simply a part of life itself would cheapen the experience of being fully-materialized on earth. It is not on soul society, but on earth that species continue to evolve in grow: both genetically and as civilizations. The existence of the living is pure, and thus should be cherished. To be alive is a simplistic supremacy, but is fair as we are all given such an opportunity.
Enter Roash.
Randall Ikagi is a twenty-three year old human male who has born in the city of Tokyo Japan. He is of half Japanese and half American blood. For the past few years Randall has been a traveler, moving from town to town each time the same malevolent spirit had tracked him down. Randall is close to normal: or he defines himself that way.
The setting which our memory begins is on the seat of a bench crafted from some kind of weathered wood. Roash reclines with a book in hand. The book is about lock-picking and the history of locks, what a find. There is a trash can to the very right of his bench: it is made from metal twill and there is a plastic bag stowed within. Fed into the can’s stomach is the book following a sharp throw. Roash sighs. Our vision of the world expands with a turn of his head though we do not see from his eyes. All around Roash is altered nature. Off-colored water is tinted brown as it flows through a river which carries on as far as the eye can see. Our focus is on Roash as he sits in waiting: worry not about the flowing river because it’s going to stay consistent throughout the story. Instead, worry about Roash. To his left as a mammoth bridge made of concrete and steel that it could serve as a belt for Atlas himself. Cars can be heard in the distance as they continue to drive along in. Wheels constantly beat across uneven slabs of turf with no rhythm at all. The noise of the might bridge was havoc, yet Roash found himself willing to bear it as he waited for something.
At the water’s edge he stood with a bottled drink in hand. Roash’s attire was notable: it was fairly nice compared to normal. He did not don wrinkled up button-ups, in fact he wore a muted green crew-neck and some fitted jeans. Roash curses and spits into the river. He was beginning to feel stood up.
With another look around it becomes clear that he wasn’t in the likes of Japan, instead it was some area in Europe: England. It was finally realized that the Tower Bridge stood across from Randall.
Suddenly a voice as sweet as honey echoed from behind Roash, penetrating through to dimness of the twilight hours. “Oh you came?”
Roash nearly spins around as he sets his sights on a gorgeous English girl. The rays of the sun did her no justice as no amount of light could properly illuminate her prettiness. With a brief objective of crossing over a small barrier, she makes an effort to come down and greet Roash. As she comes closer her details become greater. Her skin was that of a decently tanned Caucasian, and her eyes were sky-blue. A red plastic hair band stretches over her cranium to keep her hair perfectly positioned throughout the day, while slick bangs hang down her brow. She is Roash’s beau, and is dressed in a flowing white sundress that accentuates her thin frame underneath.
“Of course Abby.” Randall replies with a happy tone as the approach one another by the water’s edge.
- Fragment 08: Piker Ferguson:
(You don't have to read this, just character development.)
What is a carnal desire? A carnal desire is something we long for from the very base of our existence. We need it in order to live. Both the lack of or the overdose of these desires will lead to obsession. An obsession can be a violent or dangerous impulse, resorting in a cling that lasts even in death: such an impulse leads to hollowfication. There is of course the lighter side of obsession as well. My love has died, Ms. Abigail Roads-Crenshaw. For five years I have longed to see her again, deeply longed. Is this an obsession? I will never stop loving her. And filled to the brink with hatred, my head will burst with madness if I think of her for too long.
This is note a beautiful story or poetic justice. I have killed many people without the precision seen in cinema; I only get it done. I have done it out of spite, jealously, anger, and hate. The code that I live by keeps me in check while I take out a constant vengeance on others. I am not a villain though; I merely poor my anguish on those who deserve it. The innocent will forever go unharmed, since I still have a soul to speak of.
I want to save the Abby Roads that I couldn't save before, and punish the sick fucks who let their obsessions slip out of control.
I am Roash Ikagi.
It was about four years ago when I first gained my edge. To be honest I never saw it coming. It wasn't long after Masato killed Abby... I was on the Javelin bullet train headed from Ashton back to London, and it was midday. I was by myself, still moping after Abby with my head hung low. However, business was business as I still had a brick of dope in the center of my book-case. The train rocked like a cradle. There weren't many passengers on board, only an old man and a couple further up front; my car was near the ass of the train.
I always like to mind my own business, but some people just piss me off. And when I get pissed I either walk away or get violent, there's no in between. A frail woman in her early thirties fought with her partner, an older man in a tight-button up shirt. The argument was over something stupid and I tried to block them out. I nearly bit my lip in frustration and opened a stray book from the seat. The woman brought up her partner's past behavior: she said he ruined their last Christmas party with his "fucked up attitude". The man wasn't pleased in the slightest as he stood tall and pointed in her face while screaming.
My agitation peaked as I glared at him, suggesting with my eyes for him to shut his mouth.
"Piss off! I gotta handle some business kid." He screamed with verbal retaliation. But I wasn't his wife, I wasn't going to tolerate that... Or was I? I buckled. My head sunk low as I dug into my book with mild fear until I heard more noise. The old man from the front of the car had arisen and provoked the raging boyfriend himself. He wasn't big, or even tough. The younger boyfriend turned to see the confrontation, and seemingly chose that moment to reveal just how ripped he was. The old-timer was half his size but stood firm, gray-hair and all.
I gripped the seat in front of me tightly as the drama mounted. With his top-hat on skew and a twisted cig' in his mouth the old-timer wasn't afraid. He spoke a retort to the challenge, offering a jolly accent straight out of Ireland. A push and a shove went down. The bigger man tried to bully the oldie as if he would simply back down, yet a sudden brawn went down. The massive arm swung from the angered boyfriend, tight-sleeve and all. The old-man's dexterity was enough to make me marvel in him. Several punches were thrown, all of which were slickly weaved around.
The girlfriend was loud and obnoxious from her seat as shouted for them to stop with a thick Sussex accent; her speech was nearly jargon.
- Fragment 15: Nana Crenshaw:
Warmth. I choose warmth.
What is the defining characteristic of life? With man being capable of becoming as evil as the devil himself there is no point in looking to morality or emotion: therefore I have come to see warmth as the defining sign of life.
Appreciate the beating heart. Here her breath, and feel her love. Sit alone, and wallow in your coldness.
Warmth is life: and when I felt her warmth, she made me feel real.
It was all yellow. The color of sunflowers filled the room in soft, pastel shades in the early morning. I see a white ceiling fan rotating slowly and try to focus on a single blade as it runs in circles. With my first waking exhale I feel her hand amidst the depression of my chest. Abbey. A laid above yellow sheets in a lax fashion, fully clothed while she still slept below them. Most boys would've been disappointed, but being with her alone was good enough to satisfy me.
I was still eighteen at the time, and it was summertime. We were out at her parent's summer home during their vacation. I was just a ropey bastard as always and didn't feel ashamed to follow them to the country-side just to be with her. Luckily her parents didn't know.
As I said prior it was morning. I had come to spend the night but met a picky-refusal as always: the excuse of "My Nana will hear us... She hears everything" was made so I slept on top of the covers. Somehow, a barrier of cotton sheets was enough to stop a rush of hormones from occurring; incredible.
I was laying on my side, facing Abbey as she still slept silently. Silken brown hair covered her face. With a roll I nudged inward and brushed it out of my line of sight softly and whispered her name twice.
Abbey issued a murmuring retort. She was sleeping fine, and didn't appreciate my effort to wake her. On her neck were marks of my amateur affection.
"Be quiet Roash, Nana will hear you." Her voice whined in an inaudible level and was accompanied with a smile. She was devilish to bring me home, and worse considering the room itself.
I looked about: suddenly I noticed clear plastic tubing which ran along the floor in a vicious spiral. The long collection spun as if it were gathered up unintentionally, but led to the far-side of the room. With curiosity I sat up, causing the silence in the room to break with the creak of the bed. Across from Abbey and I laid a second bed with none-other than her Grandmother laying there. Open eyes glared at Roash, peaked in senility. They were glazed over, befit with a confused expression and a hint of anger. In her bed she laid facing me, dressed in bloomers and a bright-pink night-cap. Apparently, Abbey had to share a room with her during the family vacation... A breathing apparatus was strapped to her face, hiding her likely babble of anger.
"Nana Crenshaw?" My jaw dropped as I uttered her name allowed, causing Abbey to wake and shudder in the bed.
Meanwhile, a bearded man trying to dress like an English farmer pumps water from a well as he suddenly hears an elderly woman scream with alert from within Abbey's room. "GAH! PROWLER! HEEEEELP! PROOOOOWLEEEER!"
Eh. That was the day when I figured out how much I loved Abigail... And the day I met Granny Crenshaw.
- Fragment 20: Professor Ikagi:
Only an hour earlier laid a lump underneath a comforter in a blue-tinted room. The alarm clock glowed bright-red with the time 03:35 amidst a peaceful night. Roash snored slightly from beneath the covers, muffling the noise to a degree. Out of nowhere a white light illuminated the room and began the night-stand began to vibrate. There was a random phone-call. The phone continued to vibrate, making a large rattle until an arm slithered from beneath the covers in preparation to answer.
There is a muffled hello heard from below the covers, followed by the sounds of a worried and outright frightened teenage boy. "Professor Ikagi we need your help!
Mei has been abducted by her ex-boyfriend and his friends!"
The boy was so loud that he is heard from afar.
"How many times do I have to tell you kids not to call me Professor?
I don't have a degree." Roash provided an annoyed, half-sleep response as he began to get out of bed.
"This is for real Mr. Ikagi...
We went out tonight, trying to get into a club when we ran into into Mei's ex-boyfriend Kaito."
With the covers torn off of Roash the teenage boy's voice is clearly heard. With only a yawn as his response, Roash tried his best to get in gear quickly.
"Okay... Then go save her like a man.
If you can go out at night like an adult, you can deal with adult problems.
As a matter of fact, how'd you get my number?" Roash seemed cruel and uncaring as he gave his student a hard time over the phone. However, his dedication was being proved other-wise as he was in the midst of pulling that hand cannon we saw before out of the drawer.
Please professor! My friends and I are being held for questioning by the police at the abduction scene...
Plus, Kaito's ex-boyfriend is an adult, and so are his friends.
You told us all to call on you if we ever needed help, so I searched you up in the local directory."
Roash could only chuckle as he held the phone on his shoulder, pressed still by his cheek. All the meanwhile he shimmied a pair of skinny slacks up his waist, exposing his boxers for a matter of seconds.
"This isn't what I had in mind kid... But I am a man of my word.
And you're gonna have to help me find her somehow."
- Fragment 25: Bullet-head Jackson:
Fragment: Bullet-Head Jackson
The human-heart fluttered, creating an erratic beat. Deep within a complex covered with gray walls you see open lips rush to breath. A man nearly panics, trying to take in as much oxygen as he found feasible. As if you see through a camera, you move away to view a curly-haired mess: Roash Ikagi. The environment was best understood to be an abandoned or condemned apartment complex. Within these confines were ruptured walls and copious amount of vandalism that did the original complex no just. A cool moon-light bounced into the room as Roash sat against a wall desperately in need of renovation. It was he who breathed so heavily, nearly creating a malfunctioning beat with his voice via a strong echo. Occasionally he stopped to cough, spitting up blood in the process. On his right shoulder is a large spot of burgundy which was easily seen against his summer-jacket. There was a puncture through his chest which shot back through his shoulder-blade. He was in extreme pain, yet dealt with it amidst an effort to dig into the wound with his left hand.
He fought the urge to roar while jerking at his would, but soon revealed a large steel fragment which was slow to slide out. There was no safety guaranteed for a bad-ass in his line of work; and such a decree was law.
A six-inch steel spike was pulled from his body. Bloody, the metal piece was tossed aside, causing it to create screeches amidst a roll about the room. "Fuck. My. Life." In a near daze, Roash whispered to himself will feeling the wall to his back with a bloody hand. Prints of red claws were made like a horror movie as Roash tried to find an item to grip.
He slid to his feet, nearly exhausted due to his combat injury. It was clear just how fatigued Roash was... He had spent days hunting another irresponsible human. There was another killer on the loose with skills similar to his own. Several clicks sounded. With his eyes down and focused he loaded six massive bullets into a pewter six-shooter. Each bullet is made of standard metal; golden bronze. With a spit onto the bare floor Roash hadn't a care left for his surroundings. In fact, specimens of his blood and saliva were everywhere following three long minutes of pain.
In the long distance a clamor can be heard ripping through everything. The sound was an incredible raucous that sounded inhuman. The structure of the building's current stage was being ripped through by something massive.
♫I see you baby... Shakin' that ass.♫ He sung below his breath while the sound of his spinning chamber could be heard. It was a popular tune by a group called, Groove Armada.
What an odd tune for the moment: and the moment continued to grow closer.
"If you're feeling froggy leap!" He screamed aloud while swinging his good left-side forward. It seemed as if the moment had slowed. A thumb cocked back the hammer as the hindered gunman prepared his shot. One-eye squinted shut, staying open just slightly to maintain depth-perception while the hero sized up a perfect shot.And... Bang.
Amidst his fatigue Roash rocked backwards from his own shot, nearly tilting over as massive hole was seen in the hole of the wall before him, creating only a basket-ball shape. The rushing noise carries on within this same moment as the wall was torn asunder in a moment of calamity. Both bodies fell as Roash collapsed with fatigue at the sight of his target, which collapsed though the wall.
On the floor before him was a contorted human with one hell of a fullbring... His head steamed with a large hole scooped out the back of his bleeding melon. The body had merely collided through the wall as one last muscular reaction. Covered in all kinds of armor, the human man only had half of his head.
Roash chuckled as he watched the aftermath from his shot; he was unscathed by the mass of gore as blood continued to flow like a fountain.
A chirp began to ring out of Roash's pocket of the digital variety. It was some corny ringtone which he quickly ended via answering his cell-phone. A voice chattered whilst Roash grunted in response twice.
"Mmm. He got me once with a gore... But he was easy.
Yeah...
Yeah it's Bullet-head Jackson...
Head-shot...
Yeah.
No." Though it went unheard, the matter of his call was clear. Across from him the putrid body continued to squirm under the command of a last few spasms. On the target's back was a symbol of sorts, on familiar through an ad-campaign or two. It seemed as if poorly-trained humans with hi-spec abilities were sprouting up in record numbers. With an end to his call Roash sat and reflected for a moment. He had become incredibly tuned with his senses, so much that he could shoot his targets spot on through walls. He wasn't impressed with himself. Instead, Randall Ikagi was content enough with taking a break and catching a smoke before the next job.
- Fragment 30: Roash Ikagi (Part One: Death):
- Long gone were the finest hours most warriors dreamed of.
Long gone was the pride and the refined sense of honor.
Dreams.
Love.
Even life had been ripped from his grasp.
Never was one man laid into the soil so tragically; tossed to the wayside by his own kind. The human race was proven to be nothing but a culmination of wretches, pulled together by god as a mockery of his own power to create. In broad daylight Randall Ikagi was revealed, slain under the brightest of suns. The public was appalled naturally, but not a soul took action. They gathered in the masses, all making gasps to the point of an off-beat symphony being formed. Traffic halted in the busiest of cities, all to witness the rain of blood across one block from the top of London's Big-Ben. What a place to be put on display: what a final viewing. His blood dripped in bright-red lines down the side of England's greatest monument. The over-lapping streaks looked like a graphic-design showcasing just how much the human-body could leak the color red. Hoisted by carefully placed javelins, Roash was pinned in place, much like the classic paintings of crucifixions.
Long gone were the finest hours most warriors dreamed of.
Blood-stained eyes made the slightest of movements. To say he was at the edge of his existence was an understatement. They open, revealing a world which spun at violent speeds. Our subject (Mr. Ikagi) had been desensitized towards many cases of pain and destruction long ago, but found himself buried in a new level of agony which he could have never imagined. The mere recognition of his placement caused Roash to black out once more when mixed with the misery of having several stakes driven through him: he was pinned to a super-structure like a paper to a bulletin board. “Abbey.” Cracked and bruised lips uttered the ultimate name. Even when nearing his death, Roash kept chasing the memory of Abbey Roads. She was the north-star to his sailor; but not even the memory of Abbey could pry Roash up from his position. From afar the sounds of help could be heard as glass panels shattered, and fire-fighters called out to him uselessly. The voices of emergency service was muted by the sound of Roash's own destiny being shattered. It was much like the shatter of two-thousand mirrors within an oddly placed dance hall.Long gone was the pride and the refined sense of honor.
Those green eyes which were once like emerald pools, were now stained bloody-red; with the right Roash peered out into the horizon. The sight was blurred with a red haze, but he knew exactly whom he has laid eyes upon: his assailants. There were five familiar individuals; his old family “The Ferguson Family” gang. So much for being one of them, as vengeance was served upon his return to London-town. Near the front of the small gathering stood the eldest man, Roash's only father figure in life: Piker. By his side stood a small girl with long, straight hair which was perfectly brunette. She wore a yellow dress, just like her mother. The child's small hand was curled around the old and hardened fingers of Piker as he glared out to Roash with a despicable distaste skewed across his face. “Ya' father ain't nothing but a nasty bug, Leyla.” Piker's voice was still rough like sandpaper after having his larynx nearly crushed years ago. His body turned slowly before scooping the child up. “Your mum did right to keep you away from him. I'm your pop-pop now.” Not another word would be said as Piker turned to walk away, leaving his henchmen to see through with Roash's demise. Only one remained as the others followed suite: a younger man with red string-like hair, and a thick eye-patch which was black like the state of the day. From his lips hung a cigarette, it was the same brand normally smoked by Roash. With his cohorts dismissed, the lackey with read hair stood and admired Roash from afar. They seemed much like kindred spirits, possibly related. “You shouldn't have left us, Roddy-boy.” With an exhale the man with crimson hair dismissed Roash before pulling the roach from his mouth and flicking it in Roash's general direction. “You're the shit below our boots now... See you in hell.” The pavement which topped the roof crunched below his feet with each step until he disappeared as well.Dreams.
Roddy Ikagi continued to look outward, seemingly lost in his status; almost unable to attempt to free himself. With his hands fastened by the spears, he was unable to grab a cigarette and attempt a phase into his smoke-form. “That was, my daughter.” Roash suddenly uttered words with a monotone recital. Almost a cliché: blood tricked out his mouth as soon as it opened. “Leyla.”
His left hand budged, first with the fingers and then a mild movement by the wrist. “He can't have her.. HE CAN'T DO THIS...” His teeth gritted amidst an effort to scream in anguish. Between the stakes the tortured body began to quake with his every last inch of strength.
“NO!” Never would such an opposing testament be that strong again. As if god were pressing against the wall, the side of Big-Ben began to ripple as a mighty full-bring was violently softening the structure with inconsistent waves: a struggle to be free. Like a slave freed from shackles Roash pulled himself forward. The panels along the wall shattered outward as he was pushed into an unforgiving sky. Like a fallen angle, Roash plummeted approximately two-hundred and fifty feet from an obscure section of the Great Bell.Love.
The same squinted eye watched as the earth slowly came closer, along with the view of seemingly thousands of bystanders. The land was gray, and the people were like gathered ants, waiting for his carcass to crash so they could investigate it. During this ascension, it seemed as if death was not plaguing his consciousness. Instead, images of the woman in the sunflower dress covered his sight. With an outreaching hand Roash aimed to finally attain Abbey once again. Finally, he could see her before him in full few. She was his life, flashing before his eyes. Only inches away was the hand of the man and his woman, the ghost of Abbey Roads. Their finger-tips meet, only for him to be slammed back be cold, hard, steel. A woman screamed as Roash slammed down atop a yellow-cab which swerved into a fire-hydrant as well. His defeated corpse rolled off the vehicle's front, leaving the beetle to look rather crushed. With nothing but seconds spared, paramedics swarmed about the mangled body; quickly making efforts to rip out the spears, check his clearly absent pulse, and scoop what was left up to be transported into an ambulance.Even life had been ripped from his grasp.
- Fragment 30: Roash Ikagi (Part Two: Rebirth):
The pains of existence were gone as he awoke whole once more. Lying flat on his back along a brick-paved trail, Roash sat up, narrowly avoiding a spirit which drifted by. One of many continued to pass him by through a dark path which led to a white light. They were all emotionless, possibly content while moving towards the famous light at the end of the tunnel. “Is this it?” He pondered aloud, hardly satisfied with his end. However, he seemed to be somewhat content at the same time. “Abbey.” He uttered her name once more, creating a soft echo through the narrow atmosphere. At last, he was on the path to seeing her once again.
“What about Deleyla, your daughter?” The familiar voice in his mind chimed in, causing him to pause once more. Roash's motionless spirit denied that faint white light. From his back hung the chain of fate which lay connected to that bright light: faint in view. With his every step the chain scraped along the floor; one of a million which dragged in unison.
“Ikagi.” A voice snapped his inner dialogue to a halt from afar, seemingly shattering the chain of fate in one foul swoop as well. The chain seemingly disintegrated down to a few links, causing Roash to be ejected from the path to absolution. The realm fell to blackness and then a cabin in a forest. Like shards flying into place, Shoki's realm formed around Roash as he merely marveled. There was no pain, only the on-setting sorrow while he reflected during the creation of this false realm. Ikagi's garments were still in shreds as they blew wildly, along with his hair; all due to the vortex of a forming world.
“This space is of my own creation.” A figure the shape of a large man sat at the foot of a temple which grew into view to his rear. He was anything but human: capable of creating a realm at will, simply to meet with Roash. With a puzzled expression, Roash drew closer and peered about the being. “I am Shoki: The Demon Queller.” His voice was bold and nearly conquering to the atmosphere. “And you were about to quit weren't you?” As Shoki spoke, Roash began to pick at his newly broken Chain of Fate, hardly noticing his cold despair... He experimented, pulling at it. “You are making me into a hollow.” Roash made the accusation calmly, acceptably. A sick feeling akin to depression was quickly filling him. “I had no other choice if I were to keep you from being dragged to Soul Society like the other passing souls.”
“Just what are you, Shoki?” Roash looked away, outdone by the entire matter while thoughts of his own death gripped his mindset. He was only steps away from reuniting with Abbey in the beyond, yet this Shoki being had stepped in the way. Why?
“I have watched you grow since you were a mere sprout, Randall. I warded Masato from devouring you for several years, until you were able to fend for yourself. I am your benefactor.” The red-faced being was blunt about the matter as he glared unto Roash in return. He sat with his legs spread; both hands clenched a long sword which was standing atop the ground, blade down. His robes were of the oddest descent as a snow-white baboon pelt covered his backside. The skull, ridden with fur was much like a helmet over his visage, which was thick and muscular. Shoki's garments were that of vintage guardian robes seen in Asia during the Edo Period of Japan. A thick beard lined his jawline and was shaped like a fat, black broom.
Roash edged forward, angered at the claim of Shoki being his protector. “So what do you want now, a pat on the back mate?”
“No.” With his exclamation made, Shoki arose, revealing his large stature in full form. “I have come to give you a second chance, Randall. Return to life, and finish what you started.”
“Thanks for the nice try, but it doesn't matter... I don't want to go back.” Roash was defeated. Though the pain had been left behind, the sorrow was stored within if, as if he were a jar. Even Shoki could see how defiant Roash had become to his own will. Following his usual style even after death, Roash sifted through his jacket pocket with his right hand, aiming to pick out a cigarette. He placed it to his lips, aiming to full-bring it to a light, but failed.
Shoki was intent on seeing Roash back to his tasks at hand: “You serve a greater purpose than you acknowledge, Ikagi. You have more responsibility than simply learning how to be a good father: and I believe in you.” That being said, Shoki began to step forward with his sword commencing to simmer; a nearly black haze seeped from it. He approached with his power brimming. “Once I pierce your soul with my blade... My power will make you whole once more.”
“But what if you're wrong?” Roash backed away, hesitant towards the deity’s prophecy.
Upon the last syllable, Roash found himself pierced thoroughly by Shoki's blade, which caused anything but pain. “I'm only human.” He detested the process, even with the aura of a demigod filling his soul. The blade was pressed through via a single lunge faster than a flash of light, faster than comprehension. Roash's human shape was beginning to break away, converting to that familiar essence which emanated from Shoki's blade.“Wrong? No.
I have seen you at the height of your spirit and vigor; with my blessing, you shall not fail.
If only you could see it for yourself.”
- Fragment 30: Roash Ikagi (Part Three: Return):
Shoki's encouraging words became a loud blare, almost inaudible by the end of “see”. Roash's reality was morphing once again, as was his physical form. He became unstable within a twisted universe that faded to and fro, and blended in and out.
The lights turned out. The first thing heard is that of a single pair of lungs pumping sporadically. Not a sight could be witnessed as Roash awoke within a toppled ambulance. Even more sirens could be heard drawing near. The darkness? Roash punched through the roof of his black body-bag and peered up at the left wall which was now the roof. A cb-radio made constant static, mixed in with an obscure song playing at low volume from a personal device to the front of the cabin. The E.M.T.s were absent, only stains of black blood covering the entire cabin could be found. Ikagi arose as the sole survivor of an apparent crash: and he arose alive.
The lights were dim: emergency bulbs. Without a mirror in sight, Roash could still tell that he no longer looked the same, nor did he feel as such. Every function felt out-of-body, first noticed once he made steps towards the back doors. Perhaps they were the locked gates to sanity, an end to this madness? His hands pressed against them in a common manner before Roash was forced to simply pry them open, revealing him to the outside world.
Outside were fire-fighters which actively attempted to free him beforehand. The entire group collapsed back as Roash paced out of the wreck in his newly rebuilt form. He was anonymous beneath a monstrosity of a hood which sheltered his face from sight. His pale body was covered by the pelt of a light-grey baboon, and his eye-line was disguised by a fractured skull; the teeth were mostly-intact.
“What have I become, Shoki?” White lips parted to ponder existence once more; emanating streaks of thin, crimson mist all the meanwhile. He had become man once again, however, the will of the Demon Queller had become a part of Roash as well. The immediate atmosphere seemed small in his new presence, causing the bystanders to insight their own fear and draw defenses. “WHAT IS THAT THING?” A policeman shuddered in absolute terror while jerking his pistol twice, insinuate the need to know an answer or he'd open fire.
“I, don't know...” Ikagi leaked a reply, truly devoid of an answer to give. One-step is all he took before meeting another surge of resistance. Under the haze of an early metropolis morning, his skin was nearly ghost-white while thick with enhanced muscle. An attempt to hopefully suggest normalcy led to Roash pulling back the baboon hood, revealing severe growth to his hair, along with old blood-stains from his previous wounds. The once mutilated body had became anew. Gone were the holes from spears, and the incisions of precious tools of destruction, or the burns of scorching magic. Not a single scar remained from his previous existence.
It was then that reality hit him, causing Roash to put his fear, pondering, and lack of faith. The trail after the Ferguson Family was still hot, igniting his sense of duty and vengeance. No warning: his body simply nudged before disappearing into blur of black dust which angled upwards before fading into nothing. In his wake ran in more investigates dressed in protective gear. With flash-lights and guns drawn, policemen in scrubs checked through the crashed ambulance, quickly finding themselves to be ill as well. Their skin grew red and irritated as remaining vapors left the cabin as a venomous cesspool. Further detective-work revealed that the bodies had been turned to slag by an unfamiliar agent, and the ambulance flipped by unseen forces. Roash Ikagi's reformation had leveled the entire vehicle; a massacre via his conception alone.
Reborn has been Ikagi: The Demon Queller.
To Be Continued...
SAMPLE THESE SWEET SKILLS
It was morning.
Slowly his eyes open. Painfully, male eyes look around with a dryness that only comes after one of those nights, you know, one of those rough nights you can't even remember but you know shit happened. Like usual, it's Roash back to his old ways living a hard lifestyle with no aim... Ever since that one tryst ended he has been dipping his wick into anything, carelessly and heartlessly, and this morning is no different.
"Where the fuck am I?" He asks himself aloud. A soft push and his upper-body raises from rest atop a mattress that's comprised of two mattresses joined together. He feel his legs now, twisted up between some woman who lays next to him in the bed, and she's slowly waking up now too.
Roash observes her face while sheets slide off his back and reveal a modest body that is neither chiseled or pudgy. Even when wasted in a cheap bar, Roash manages to pick up decent girls... Why they like clods like him he'll never understand, but he'll take full advantage.
It's a false alarm. The pretty young dime rolls over, revealing a pristine back-shot that's worth a frame despite a poorly tattooed tramp-stamp; but she has a crack that can take a credit card perfectly if he tried.
With a grin, he can't remember this girl's name for the world, but has a faded memory of what they did... Nothing close to spectacular.
With a climb out of bed he doesn't bother to sneak out, instead he dresses and the sounds wake her up.
"Morning babe." The unnaturally blond harlot speaks out to Roash as she watches him dress from bed. She is only a "little" bothered that he is leaving so suddenly.
Roash doesn't answer. He barely looks at her with shame as he fastens his slacks on and picks up his hooded vest.
"Let's not get the wrong idea about last night, huh?" He drops the classic phrase, nearly plunging a hole in her frail, bar-trash heart.
The poor girl begins to stutter and becomes upset; though sloppy with stained makeup her face is beet-red like an irish-man in the sun.
"You are really doing this to me?
You are such a loser!
I should've listened to my girls last night but noooo..." The barfly who shall remain nameless throws a fit and jumps out of bed while Roash continues to simply get dressed. Suddenly, the naked woman strolls around the bed. Her chest shakes freely with perk as it's still uncovered and majestic, much like her bottom-half.
With anger and a fist balled up she prepares to attack Roash, but frozen in place as he flashes a large butterfly knife. Of course he isn't pointing the blade, but he uses it to cut the wristband from the club last night. The sight of his weapon makes the barfly stay away from him, wisely.
"I know this looks bad...
I usually stay for breakfast at least, but I have a job to do today alright; in fact, I'm already late.
Sorry." He offers some form of solace for the poor girl. With a turn of his back Roash makes a slick exit from her cheap apartment within the slummiest part of town.
Roash Ikagi- Posts : 6
Join date : 2011-10-05
Re: Randall "Roash" Ikagi - Human Elite
Kiriko Tenshi Sat Oct 08, 2011 2:48 pm
This all seems fine to me. I'll get Hika or Haku to look over the specifics to make sure its all Kosher.
Kiriko Tenshi- Posts : 80
Join date : 2011-09-29
Re: Randall "Roash" Ikagi - Human Elite
Miki Tenshi Sat Oct 08, 2011 10:30 pm
Roash buddy.
I deem this application'
Approved!!!
for your EP I did a direct xfer and you have 820 EP
Go forth Human Elite and form the Human world!!! Oh and make your stats and techs topic too ^^
I deem this application'
Approved!!!
for your EP I did a direct xfer and you have 820 EP
Go forth Human Elite and form the Human world!!! Oh and make your stats and techs topic too ^^
Miki Tenshi- Human
- Strength : 30
Posts : 109
Join date : 2011-09-28 -
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