Rai Katsuya

“Why?”

Rai Katsuya
Male......................................Orientation: Straight
Actual age: 367.......................Appeared Age: 17
5 feet short............................140 pounds light
Shinigami................................Juichibantai

Nickname: Katsu (it’s what he yells to surprise people) pronounced Kahts. If you’ve ever heard Mitsurugi from Soul Caliber, that’s the sound.

Personality:
    His best friends would call him energetic. "He's a ball of lightning with no sky or ground to straighten him out and flash way his hustle and bustle,” is what they say. “There is no calming his unending wealth of vitality," is what they say. But they're just being nice, because to everyone else he's annoying, a thorn in the paw of every other soul. Much like a child, Rai is quizzical, curious to no end and questioning for all eternity. His plethora of energy is second only to his constant pondering, for he must sleep, his body must rest, but even then, in his dreams, he questions. He yearns to understand the world, and everything in it, everyone in it, completely. This does not stop at the threshold of reality between exterior and interior. That same understanding, he seeks of himself.

    Rai is quick. Quick to talk. Quick to act. Quick to think. He moves swiftly and efficiently. And as each muscle in his body is accustomed to working quickly, so too is his tongue. So much so, that at times he jumbles words together in puzzles of mismatched jigsaw pieces ripped apart and smashed together. His language may not seem like language at all until picked apart. This quickness is juxtaposed by an almost contradictory lethargy and laziness. There are moments when he will move so slowly as to seem still. This is the paradoxical nature of Ba Gua Chang that he embraces. A practicing martial artist, he utilizes the natural principles of Ba Gua Chang or Pa Kua Zhang kung fu as his vehicle for interpreting the world. He chooses to dwell whenever possible on the fast moving kung fu side, but taking the time to smooth out his energies with the slower qi gong side.
    Rai is trying to reconcile these contradictions in his nature. He’s an ecstatic hurricane of study and seeking when his interest is peaked, but an indomitable laziness when not. His fuse is just as contradictory. Under heavy pressures and the immense stresses of combat or highly urgent emergencies, Rai remains as calm as still water with a determined speed in thought and action. But, under low pressure, the mundane, the day to day; these are the moments when Rai shows his cracks. A phrase uttered is taken as an insult. He flares up. Someone mistakes his words or cannot understand his ideas as quickly and thoroughly as he explains them. He gets frustrated. A sock drops out of the laundry pile he's holding. He throws the pile. The everyday, the true testing ground of his practices in mindfulness and self-control from martial training are where he falters, ironically.

    Rai's has few true relationships. An extroverted social butterfly, Rai is more than capable of being smooth, charming and appropriate. But he chooses not to. He treats everyone as a social experiment and subject to psychoanalysis. He pokes buttons and reveals flaws and flatters with compliments and invites you into his soul with self-deprecation, vulnerable openness and humor before making you question whether you are truly happy with yourself or are as intelligent as you think; all of that, before reassuring you of your brilliance. He is kind hearted and means well but can come off as prying. He only wishes for others to realize themselves and in that realization come to start improving themselves. The same process he enacts on himself. Then again, who wants to hear they’re fat and stupid? Yeah nobody, that's who.
    Due to this nature of his, he rarely develops deep, meaningful, long lasting relationships. Those that resist analysis and seem more complex become friends only to be further studied. But his best friends, like his Shifu or his Captain, are the ones which teach him about himself. The ones that can help him get better, and aren't afraid to call him out on his shit. The ones he can lean on in those rare moments of despair, of helplessness, of depression. In the valleys of his emotional wavelength, these are the people he crawls to. Even if, in the case of his Captain and Shifu, his worries and depression are literally beat out of him.

Appearance:
    Rai is short, tan and stocky. His genetics built him like a tall lord of the rings dwarf. As such, he is strong, naturally hairy although he trims and shaves daily, and to a degree proportionally stubby. He is not fat but wide. His musculature is not harshly defined. But he is fit and more than physically capable. A layer of fat naturally hides his abdominals and gives his stomach a look more akin to a flattened barrel than a rippling washboard. His endomorphic body is essentially what happens when genetically you have the muscle length and structure of a six foot tall individual packed into and restrained by a height limit of five feet. What mass of muscle would look long and thin on a taller person looks short and wide on him. All of this works to Rai's advantage and element of surprise. No one expects a short, stocky to move with the speed and agility that he does. No one expects his body to exhibit levels of flexibility akin to gymnasts. No one imagines a fat ninja, or in this case, a husky one.
    Rai's face is round, brown and scruffy. His big brown eyes peer out into the world with the dreamy wonder of a child and draw in the gaze of others with their deep earthiness. They seem to change from light to dark depending on his interest level. But really it's just the fact that he widens his eyes enough to get out from under the shadow of his brow. Or is it?
    Some long stubble wraps his chin and neck up to his ears before abruptly ending. Rai tries his best to maintain a bald shaved head. Occasionally, his long stubble and head stubble match, when he forgets. He uses his sword to shave, despite his zanpakuto's vehement disapproval. His small round ears poke out reminiscent of a monkey, and a slightly wide, round nose give him something of an african or hispanic look. A pair of full lips adds to those connotations of origin. He is not crazily attractive. He is not ugly either. He's just him. Although on more occasion than one he has been called cute but that's probably just because of his height.

    Rai's style of clothing is, what we might call, unique. Rai likes skin tight suits. And not the westerner's button up shirt beneath slacks and blazer with optional bow tie either. Rai wears a full body, minus head, jet black compressive spandex hybrid suit. That pushes down the follicles on his hairy arms and legs, while simultaneously adding slight compression to his muscles. A bit of constant resistance training coupled with aerodynamic-ness are the reasons he gives. But personally, he might just admire superheroes too much.
Of course Rai isn’t crazy. He doesn’t, just, wear his tight suit. That would be silly in public and goes against culturally accepted social norms. In order to maintain appearances, and not gave everyone gaping/scoffing at him, Rai wears slightly baggy, kung fu pants with elastic bands at his ankles and waist, baggy enough to not hinder range of motion but close enough to not be obnoxiously wide. Made out of cotton for breathability and accompanied by sashes of varying colors to hold them tight around his waist and compress his intestines so as not to get a hernia when exerting power. Cause nobody wants their intestines anywhere other than in their body.
    Then of course he wears of fur vest of his latest hunt. Because why the hell would you waste perfectly good fur once the blood is cleaned out? Much to the dismay of his Captain, Rai likes to hunt and wear bear fur, especially in the winter. He also hunts deer, squirrels, mountain lions and other woodland creatures but he wears bear for the warmth, and to piss off his Captain. This is usually his only top, with the compress suit going out to his wrists and rounding the base of his neck. Very rarely will he fashion a full coat or wear a shirt on top of the suit. He also disdains buttons. So the vest has a healthy count of none. It flaps in the wind and bits against him furiously as he sprints and he likes it that way. Occasionally, in the bitter cold, he'll don a dark brown hooded scarf. It too flaps viciously behind him. And that's awesome.

Reference Imagery:
www.muscleandstrength.com/sites/default/files/images/bodytypes.jpg
lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Dwarves

History:

Humanity & Death:

One, two, three fists slammed against a small teenager’s face. He crumpled to the ground like an empty paper bag. A taller, older teen hovered over him with enough rage to make his head steam in the cold wind of the building roof top. A ring of kids encircled the two, some cheering, some gaping in horror. A backpack lay within the circle ripped open, its academic guts spilling forth onto the tile floor. The entire fight was on the school building’s sixth floor, the roof. The kids knew this place well. Some teachers liked to have class out here in the warmer months and physical activities took place on this roof. This was their inner city playground, and was where a small, chubby teenager named Rai Katsuya had to fight. He did not know it yet, but this was a fight for his life.
Suzuki, towering over the curled up Rai, panted with fury. He cocked back a leg, “You. Think. You’re better than me?!” The third kick sent Rai tumbling like a barrel with limbs. “Suzuki runs this school!” Rai could barely hear the scream. His vision was darkening around the edges and creeping in. He was tired. He was hurt. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t choose to have the same project topic as Suzuki. The teacher assigned them. It was her fault! It was her fault he was on this roof. It was her fault he was on the floor. No, it was his fault for answering all the questions, even Suzuki’s. It was his fault for being smart. No, it was Suzuki’s fault for being stupid! Fuck him. Fuck everybody. Fuck. It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered. He was going to take this beating and go to sleep. He always just went to sleep. At least there, no one could hurt him. It was a world he understood.
Barely holding onto the threads of consciousness, Rai could feel himself leaving the ground. First his torso, then the limp strings of his limbs followed. “No,” someone said faintly. No, it was a couple voices. He couldn’t help but smile, faintly flickering some teeth. Some still cared. This was the final stamp on his ticket. Destination? Hell. The wind started to pick up. He was falling. But this was taking too long. “Did he throw me?” he thought. The smell of the air was sweet, clean. The sun wasn’t so bright, like a little marble. Rai tried to pinch it, knowing damn well he couldn’t reach it. As his index finger and thumb closed around the perimeter of the orb, two black spikes shot through his chest. The wrought iron black fence stopped him dead in his tracks. The last of his breath passed through his lips. The sky was blue.

Soul? Check. Vessel? Shit! I knew I forgot something:

Flailing into gasping inhale, Rai awoke from his brief slumber with his back to the ground. Immediately, his hands leaped like crickets across his torso, with the frantic bounce of a man with bad memory and empty pockets, at a bank. “No spikes,” he thought as he sighed and relaxed ever so slightly. “No spikes?” Well this was confusing. Rai got up in a hurry. “So strange...” He had all his cloths. He had all his limbs. His body was whole, or rather hole-less. And yet, he was certain that the little boy he was staring at, lying impaled and lifelessly limb on the black fence, was him.

Gathered around the body, eyes and mouths wide, some passersby could only raise their hands to their faces to cover their horror. Teachers, janitors and school security rushed out of the school in a blur of movement. Blue and red lights flashed as sirens blared and tires screeched. EMTs darted over with a stretcher. An onlooker helped lift the lifeless body from the gate's spears. Blood pooled on the concrete, staining it shades of pink and red and brown. No soul was left without a tear, except Rai. He was free.
After watching the adults wheel away his fleshy prison, Rai went to work, exploring. Anything and everything was possible now. He recanted from his brief memory of thirteen odd years; amusement parks, playgrounds, and candy stores. He sat in the empty Ferris wheel seats for hours. He hurled from the teacups. He fell from the monkey bars and slid head first down every slide. He rode the rollercoasters without being the required height. He spent hours at the candy store, focusing all his strength to manage a single skittle. He explored and wandered to his heart's content, sleeping exactly where he used to sleep, his old room. His parents were sad, but they left his room intact. They went through fits of grief, rage, depression, excitement and happiness. It was all erratic yet there was little Rai could do to help. Moving a skittle would only make it worse, if do anything at all.
Some nights Rai would have sleepovers at his friends' places. They were sad too. But bounced back much more quickly than his parents. It was fun, but he couldn't play. He could only watch. It made him lonelier than a clam on land. His entire existence now was that of a fleeting breeze that turned heads for a brief moment, only to be whisked out of the mind as "must've been the wind". There was no interaction. There was no friendship, truly, or family, truly. There was no him, truly. He was gone.
One night, the wandering ghost soul Rai couldn't sleep. He found out that ghosts don't even need sleep. It was just an old habit of his remaining humanity. A tradition of the living that the dead partook of solely to feel normal. But tonight he did not feel normal. So he went for a walk.
A dark blue blanket with intermittent puffs of cotton and threadlike white gashes loomed behind an effervescent white-gray orb, ushering forth light like a soft lamp. Rai was caught mesmerized by this sight. He long since looked up at the sky, in both day and night, with a curious wonder, but now it seemed otherworldly. The full moon held his gaze as if it looked back on him; a single eye of whatever world there was peering into his soul and weighing him. With his eyes locked, his feet began to move and soon he was running, headfirst into the streets, chasing the universe's judgmental eye. As black tar pavement changed to grass, he tripped and tumbled landing square on his face. A solid thud, the loud ringing smack of earth was followed by an otherworldly scream. A howl like none Rai had ever heard before. A cry that could not be any animal he'd known before.
Rai lifted his face and spat out a wad of grass. There was a thing in the park, no, two things. A spider dog thing scrambled about on six creepy legs with its tongue hanging out panting, teeth sharper than pencil tips and bigger than his entire body. Its white dog mask glistened like marble. A smaller thing leaped, twirled and ran about with the grace of a ballerina and the speed of an all-star sprinter, sometimes vanishing. This person held a sword. It too glinted with the bigger thing's white mask. Before the spider fox thing could let out another cry, its mask was sliced into six pieces. It vanished. The scene was all too strange and foreign for Rai to fully understand. But he knew it was cool as fuck.

The shinigami caught Rai's scent, so to speak. His sight was the more correct sense but nevertheless he acted swiftly on the matter. A flashstep placed him right in front of Rai, crouched closer to the boy's eye level. As a dust cloud kicked up around the two, Rai coughed furiously and flailed at the small storm, swatting it away. "Who are you?" The voice cut through the brown cloud.
Rai continued his fit as the dust settled. Breaking away, his wide eyes stared at the person before him with the same curious wonder as when he stared at the sky. "How'dyadothat?" Rai glanced at the shinigami's feet. "CanIseeyoursword?" He touched the hilt. "Areyoudeadtoo?" He played with the shinigami's cheeks. "Oh and I'm Rai. What'syourname?" Rai continued to push and pull the shinigami's cheeks. Inward and outward his pudgy fingers pinched and stretched. The death god's eyelids fell to half mast as it bopped Rai's forehead with a little more force than necessary. The bottom of the warrior's hilt stamped Rai with a seal and quickly evaporated his soul into blue shards of reishi. "Kids these days," the death god muttered.

Rowdy Rukongai:

"Order Up!" A bell rang as a chef slipped a bowl of hot noodles onto a big brown round tray. A steaming pot and an empty cup appeared on the tray as well, as a short young man with a scruffy face scooped it all up in one hand. Rai had grown up a little bit. And by grown up, I mean in age for his growth spurt was equivalent to a sapling sprout rather than tree growth. His short thick stature suited his new scruffy face. He could grow a good beard, but chose not to, instead keeping it along the lines of a slightly lengthy shadow. It had been quite some time since he arrived here, a boy, and alone. But he studied his surroundings, questioned everyone, and listened to those kind enough to respond. He learned how to adapt and fit into this new environment. He found a room, a job to pay for it, people to call friends, and most of all, he kept out of trouble. His death served as a great lesson in socio-psychology, in people. He'd run the memory over countless times, extracting lessons. And here, now, he used them, in addition to learning from current experiences. All of this led him here, to this table, where an old man sat with cane in lap, patiently awaiting his meal.

"Here's a hot pot of green tea, no sweets, a bowl of hot kimchi, vegetable broth, and of course a cup for the tea. I also brought some lemon wedges just in case you feel adventurous. Anything else sir?" Rai laid out the man's meal perfectly.
"Thank you, very much." The old man spoke nearly at a whisper, with the softness of a butterfly landing and a pursed lip smile so genuine, that Rai thought the man senile, yet it warmed him. It was a puzzling feeling, that warmth. It was as if the old man were the sun, but a sun that warmed one from the inside out. He couldn't help but smile back before zipping away. A faint smile still stuck between his cheeks.
Today was fairly busy. Noon tides had washed in quite a few hungry customers. The restaurant was nearly full and few empty tables remained at all. For the four waiters, it was plenty to deal with. The place was a long hall of a restaurant, with boothed bench seating along the walls freeing up the middle for a single, hyper-long table and accompanying benches that ran nearly the length of the restaurant. Here strangers sat side by side eating meals with little discomfort. The booths belonged to those seeking more personal space and privacy. Or came with their own group that desired the aforementioned qualities.

"I'M NOT PAYING FOR CRAP, BITCH!" A waitress let out a cry before she hit the floor with a thud. She clutched her cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, Rai saw the ordeal unfold slowly, but choose to ignore it and handle his own affairs. The gang was trouble from the moment they entered brandishing their sticks and knives. The loud thugs were demanding, rowdy and aggressively advancing at any women. Their attempts at flirtation would shame dogs and deemed any notion of courtship to be useless baggage. Indeed these fine fellows were themselves, useless baggage. They hit on their waitress, Yumi, at every turn. She tried to be cordial and considerate, politely ignoring or faking a smile. But enough was enough. The grabby hands, the unwanted touches, the persistent invites and downright nasty excuses for compliments were just too much. So she politely denied one. Unfortunately for Yumi, it was the leader.
The lanky man chugged a bottle of sake as he stood and shattered it on the floor beside the waitress. His grotesquely long tongue wiped across his chin like a pendulum. Beady black eyes on a blood shot background looked down on Yumi as he spit and hobbled towards the door, his flock right in tow.
Rai was frozen. Frozen with fear. He always cared for himself first and kept out of trouble. It was best he just become a statue and disappear into the background so thugs wouldn't bother him. It had worked countless times before. And countless other times it didn't. But it wasn't him. Thank the god it wasn't him. He felt bad for Yumi. But it wasn't him. He was safe. They were leaving. He was safe. He wouldn't die again from fighting.
Rai snapped out of his paralysis to help the still grounded Yumi. She was sobbing softly. And in her right hand, Rai saw a thin red rope wrapped intricately around her middle finger. This was all her mate could muster. A silk thread in an ornate knot symbolized their bond. She wasn't about to disgrace that relationship for a few thugs. Rai was moved. Yet asked her in his mind, "Was it worth it? Stupid! You can just act the part! Then you'd be ok..."

The clack of wood on wood resonated through the restaurant as if magically transformed into a japanese theater. The audience was hushed in an instant. The players were in place. The costumes were donned. The kabuki was about to begin.
"I don't believe you've paid your meals, honorable gentlemen." The old man stood at the door of the restaurant. His cane stretched out with his arm to block the entrance.
The thug leader scoffed, "That bitch's slop is far from a meal. Get out of my way old geezer!" As he yelled, the thug leader kicked at the old man's cane. For once, Rai didn't look away. Something held his gaze. The thug leader's sole hit the cane, but his foot slide towards the old man's hand. In an instant, the old man's arm wriggled a bit. It looked as if his arm and cane had become a wave. The pencil optical illusion we all remember from school happened right before Rai's eyes. He blinked. When he reopened, the thug leader was face first on the floor being helped up by his goons.
"I'd like to post, a wager, friend." The old man spoke slowly and softly and everyone muttering hushed to a whisper. "If you, and your friends, can beat me, I will pay it all. If not. You pay." A subtle gasp was heard amongst the growl of the thug leader. As the growl transformed into a chuckle, the thug king stood with a toothy smile. He pounded leg after leg until he towered over the slightly hunched old man.
"Boys!" He bent down towards the old man, "Let's have some fun."
The old man smoothly removed his arm and cane from the doorway as he hobbled to the side. "After you."
The goons filed out, glaring the the old man down, each one burlier, dirtier, and uglier than the last. The old man made to leave as a hand grasped his shoulder. "Why'reyoudoin'this?" Rai stopped him. Rai's short stature must've made it seem like a child was questioning the taller old man. "We'll get it. Somehow." For a brief moment, the old man's hunch disappeared. He straightened out allowing Rai's hand to slide off. Magically, the old man didn't seem so old. It was as if 20 years had been shaved off. The not so old man took his hand off his cane and placed it on Rai's shoulder. He smiled, and walked through the cloth flaps. Rai could only sigh. "Waithowdid?!" Startled, Rai touched his shoulder. The man's opposite hand never left his lower back, yet he touched Rai's shoulder. Did the cane balance itself?

In a silent shuffle, heads popped out of the restaurant and people poured onto the wide dirt street. The Rukongai roads were rarely paved, especially in this district. And with little rain in these past few days, the dry dust kicked up little puffs of tan smoke with each step, including Rai's. The cloudless blue sky harmonized in telling the tale of dryness. People began to somber out of their buildings across the street and next door or pop out of windows. Some closed theirs and hid. But again, Rai was entranced. Entranced to watch. Something held his curiosity with the attractive force of a black burrow in the fabric of space-time. He couldn't peel his eyes away.
The not so old man became old again, leaning on his cane, hunching over slightly, hobbling over to the gang of thugs. The crowd of knife and stick brandishing hooligans parted to allow the old man into their circle, their trap. They enveloped him, but kept a wide breadth, primed to strike. Eight thugs for one old man. The odds were not in his favor. But for some reason Rai was not worried. No, he suspected that the old man was hiding a great many things and he was watching for that magic. He wouldn't miss it this time. This time he wouldn't blink.
The thug leader's tongue smacked against his face. He held no weapon but his nails were filed into talons. Two next to him brandished makeshift double edged short knives without guards. A simple blade was pushed into wooden handles. The next man clockwise was built like a mountain, and at his peak seemed to house very little brain, telling by his aloof and stupid expression. He held onto a club, a large stick with a bulbous end that tapered to a handle. The 8 o clock thug on the cycle was only a little taller than the short Rai but held a tanto and guard. A single edged short knife accompanied by its sheath in the other hand. At 10 o'clock were two goons with bare fists wrapped in leather bandages. The last enemy held onto link after link in a metal chain.
The old man hunched over his cane and looked around him, hobbling slowly so as not to turn his head too much. He smiled, faintly. He straightened out. His back and neck elevated to perfect posture. He leaned on his own two legs, banishing his cane to the tips of his fingers as an unnecessary accessory. He was transformed to his former glory as easily as wiping dust from a table. He bent his right knee and shifted his weight onto it as his left leg lifted and slowly extended behind him. He settled his left foot and sunk with his knees, feet perfectly parallel. He no longer clutched the cane as a vertical support but now as a wooden sword. The eight thugs all pounced. They bum rushed the not so old man in a storm of dust. The cloud overtook the nine men and blocked the crowd's view. From the brown smoke, in two quick hopping leaps, the old man emerged and stood outside the cloud peering in, cane in hand, his legs in the exact same stance. He seemed so serene. His face bore almost no emotion. But Rai could feel the faintest smile again.
A huge pair of wrapped fists emerged from the dust with a parting gust of wind. The tip of the old man's cane was there to meet them. Three swings were met by three pokes of the cane as the old man seemed to glide around in a gentle bent knee walk. He changed direction twice with an agility not expected by such an older fellow. As the first bare knuckled brute slumped down to a knee, looking at his hands, the second brute spring boarded of his back into the air and at the old man, who was already moving. His blunt cane tip quickly lunged out at the man's neck and dropped him out of the sky like a sack of potatoes. Just as a thud was heard, an air cutting whooshing sound came from within the dust cloud, dissipating it. The chain link thug had fanned away the smoke and revealed five hooligans. One was missing. The thug leader thrust his sharp nails in a spear hand at the old man's back. He had slipped out with the high flying brute as a distraction. In the blink of an eye, the old man pivoted. His back seemed to be pushed by the leader's nails as the old man maintained his bent knees and separated legs stance. It was as if his front foot was nailed into the ground with a single nail, allowing him to pivot on it while maintaining his stance. The old man pivoted 270 degrees and drove his shoulder and palm into the still thrusting leader's body, propelling him to the ground. A puddle formed around the thug king's groin. The five remaining thugs stood motionless as their leader lay motionless. A clack of wood on wood preluded a series of footsteps as the short, tanto wielding ruffian sheathed and fled. The stupid giant, now understanding that his friends were taken out, roared and charged with his club high. He swung fiercely. The old man took a gentle step back as the club brushed horizontally across his robe. As the giant's club swinging arm made to wrap around the giant's body from the inevitable recoil of the monstrous swipe, the old man's back step became the pushing point for leaping into the now vulnerably open giant. A low kick to the knee crumpled the tower from one side.
In a second, the two short knives were on him. One stabbed for the old man's face while the other slashed at his leg. The old man smashed the slasher's hand with his cane, dislodging the knife from his grip as he simultaneously leaned back to avoid the facial thrust. His cane, now in a better position vertically, rose up to deflect the thruster's arm ever so slightly past the old man's face. He stepped forward, past the thruster, kneeing the low slasher's face in. The low thug narrowly rolled to the side and picked up his once lost knife in his not broken hand. The thruster flipped the knife in his hand to point backwards and slashed back as his compadre thrust for the old man's leg, yet again. But the tight quarters work to the old man's advantage. As the broken handed thug thrust for his legs, the old man stepped back. The thug thrust his knife right into the thigh of his ruffian comrade as the comrade stabs him in the shoulder. They drop to the ground in screams of pain.
The old man had already looked away from the knife wielding betrayers at the last opponent, as if he'd planned the last stab scene like a trap. A trap he didn't need to see the conclusion to. There was one more. This thug waved a chain above his head in a blurry gray disc of movement. The old man started to walk around him. His knees bent and his torso turned in at his target. The old man glided across the dirt with footsteps as silent as a cat with furry paw. He made the thug the center of his wide circle which his free hand rose to point an open palm at. The cane lying in wait in his opposite hand. The thug shuffled around in his spot, spinning his chain, trying to keep up. He swiped. The old man widened his circle. He lashed. The old man switched directions. The exchanged went on until the thug's arms tired. As a vertical lash came in a bit slower than the rest, the old man let it wrap around his cane. He pulled it in taut before slackening and sending a wave down the line. It wrapped around the hooligan's neck. The old man leaped over and tied up the thug like a present.
All in all, there lay: broken hands, a possible crushed windpipe, if not a lodged Adam’s apple, a dislocated shoulder and kidney shot, a broken, hyperextended knee, broken hand and two stab wounds, plus a human hogtie. Not bad for an old man. But his job was not done. The old man hunched back over his cane and massaged his lower back with his freehand as he grimaced. Then he let out a light and brief laugh. "It's seems I am getting old eh?" He yelled at the onlookers with a smile. Hobbling about, muttering excuse me, the old man bent down and picked out each man's purse. That whole ordeal took longer than the entire fight. It was funny to watch. The crowd of onlookers whispered and muttered to each other as the old man hobbled over with a collection of small purses and cloth bags.
"This should cover meals and damages right?" Rai stood frozen with his mouth slightly open. In his hands has more than enough money to cover everyone in the restaurant. But he stood immobilized. Fear kicked in again. This time, he feared the old man. The incomparably capable old man who fended off eight thugs with a cane. It seemed too impossible, too surreal. And having that man get so close, locked up Rai's body like a stiff board. It kept happening. When the thugs had started their shenanigans, he froze. When they slapped his coworker, he froze. He almost didn't come outside to watch. Through half the fight, he was trembling. And now with this powerful man so close, again he froze. He was a coward. He was a frightened little bunny. No, he was less than a frightened bunny, for even they run and hop in fear. He was a worthless man without courage, heart, or balls. And he was tired of it all.
Rai's arms had grown stiff. Everyone had gone inside while he stood like a statue holding the purses at the steps. The thugs had crawled together in a huddled ball. The old man had walked off down the avenue away from town and Rai could still see him in the distance. He was tired of living scared. He wanted to feel safe. "WAIT!" He threw the purses into the restaurant entrance and ran as fast as he could. "WAIT!" The old man was a ways away but Rai at least had some speed to him. "Wait," He huffed.
The old man stopped and turned around. He saw Rai bent over trying to catch his breath. "Oh! Did I forget to pay my tab?!" He rummaged under his robe.
"No... no..." Rai was still breathing heavy. He looked up at the old man, hands still on his knees. Quickly and abruptly, he went into a deep Japanese bow, bent 90 degrees and facing the ground. "Please take me as a student okina-sensei!"
There was a silence as the old man's eyebrows raised. Then a laugh. "I'm not a teacher."
Rai dropped to his knees and bent into the deep groveling bow of servitude. "Please teach me okina-sensei! I cannot live like this anymore."
"Like what?" The old man asked.
"In fear..."
The old man had silently shuffled over to Rai. He gently tapped Rai's shoulder with his cane. "What is your name?"
"Rai Katsuya, jii-sensei." Rai still looked at the ground.
"Get up Rai."
Rai climbed to his feet but still looked down. The old man lifted his chin with his cane to look him in the eyes. With a chuckle, "I'm not that old for you to call me okina or jii-sensei." His cane dropped to his side. "Ok! Lesson number one! You, Rai Katsuya, can call me Sifu."
Rai was excitedly puzzled. The old man had accepted him. "Isthatyourname, Sifu?"
The old man turned around and started walking, "No. But that is what you call your teacher in the chinese martial arts."
Rai was even more puzzled. He was learning a Chinese art?
"Are you coming, Rai Katsuya?"
"Hai! Sifu!" He ran with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

Chiang Shang Pa Kua Zhang - Bravery:

Rai had scrubbed floors before. He had cleaned laundry before. He had brushed away leaves and plucked weeds and tended gardens before. His odd jobs and even jobs had landed him a cornucopia of chores ranging from in house to out house. But never in his second life had he ever done these chores like this.
Sifu Alas was very particular in the way Rai was to do these things. He would have to assume odd postures, lunging out to reach, squatting 4 different ways in the process of the same chore, and even twisting round like a top and crossing his legs to get anything behind him. Rai was utterly confused as to the peculiarity and at every moment of correction asked why. But Sifu Alas, as was revealed to be his last name, (Rai still held no clue as to his first name) only answered with the exact same mantra, in the exact same kind voice, "Have patience and trust, Rai."
Every day, Rai would do the chores. Every day, Sifu would correct him on something. Every day, Sifu would disappear. Never had Rai seen him practice. Never had they talked about more than the chores. And this was frustrating. Rai grew increasingly impatient. He began to chore in anger and spoke even more hastily than he already did, in the hopes that he could get to training quicker. But there was nothing, simply more correction.
"Whenareyougoingtoteachme?!" A tin bucket of water crashed to the floor as Rai slammed it down. He was fuming. Sifu sat daintily cross legged on a chair sipping tea and looking out the window. Without looking he said, "When the floor is clean." This only enraged the frustrated Rai. The sound of cloth rags dropping to the floor were succeeded by heavy footsteps. With a great cry and clenched fists, Rai attacked his Sifu. He hit the back of the chair as a stick thwacked his back foot. "Heel down," Sifu Alas said as he walked towards the bucket. Rai rebounded from the chair to face the old man. He rubbed his hand. The chair hurt. But he ran to attack again. This time Sifu Alas caught his hand and slapped it with minor adjustments. "Tight fist, straight wrist." He pushed Rai back. Rai grinded his teeth. He lunged again. "Better," Sifu flitted behind him. Rai spun to strike, but nothing was there. "Eyes open." Rai kept attacking. Sifu Alas kept correcting. Rai's anger soon tired. He attacked the old man, but not because of anger. Slowly, he caught on. It was happening. Training had begun.

The first year of training was brutal. Rai was thrown into the kung fu pool without floaties. Sifu threw a bunch of new information at him and it was all so new and so much. Sifu Alas said that these were only the basics, but the foundation must be solid for any building to be built on top of.
There was much asked of him. His chores never stopped, unless to eat, sleep, or train. Training was in three 2 hour segments a day. They went through basic warm up exercises specific to kung fu every time. Then palm strikes and stances before diving into that session’s particular subject matter of a particular defense and a kick of some sort. Rai finished off with some body weight exercises and Qi Gong. Some days were more slow Qi gong than others. Some days were more fast Kung fu than others. Few days he partnered with his Sifu on a particular technique. Most days he was left to practice on his own. But every day, at the end of the day, there was lecture. More like conversation really, but here was when Sifu Alas dove into the philosophy and principles which made Ba Gua what it is. Not only that, but also applications of those principles in real life situations. Not just in fighting but in the everyday. And this was key for achieving what the martial arts were meant to achieve, a better person. Every weekend, Rai was given his own time, and the opportunity to go into town, not too far from them. There his training continued in how he conducted himself with others.

"Sifu, whydidyouactsooldattherestaurantthatday?" Rai and Sifu Alas were having dinner at their low table.
"What do you mean? Aren't I an old man?" Sifu chuckled.
"Nono, I mean. Likeall huncholed and brokffuling."
"Think first, then speak Rai."
"Ohsorry. I meant to say, that you were all hunched and old, and broken and shuffling."
Sifu Alas smiled a bit. "Ba Gua Chang is the art of change, literal translation. One of the things we can change is ourselves and other's perception of us. We can use that ability to our advantage. And people call it deception. Ba Gua loves deception. It allows us to get at an angle in an opponent's mind to exploit a mental weakness and make physical confrontations easier. But sometimes, my back just hurts." They laughed above their food.

Before each training session, Rai and Sifu Alas took a moment to sit down and sit still. Initially the focus had been on settling the body, allowing for relaxation and focusing on deeper breathing. Initially.
"Still the body. Still the mind. The breath is their bridge. Let it be deep and slow. The focus is your breath. The way it feels. The way it smells and tastes. The way it sounds. Let it consume your focus. And as a thought enters, and it will. Acknowledge it. Then come back to the focal point. Come back to the breath. Keep a passive attitude. This is the meditation. The mind wanders. We bring it back. And again. And again."
They sat in silence for some time. Rai had mastered letting go of the need to twitch or itch. But the mind was a new frontier. He was excited, overjoyed at the newest practice. And he was scared. Scared of what he might find inside. Scared of what memories may creep up. Scared of that time he was beaten. Scared of the pain. Scared of being helpless. Scared of being scared.
A warm hand palmed his shoulder. Rai snapped into reality with a tremble, but the hand held on. It was soothing. Rai kept his eyes closed and tried again to focus on his breath. He relaxed his shoulders. He fixed his posture, growing both up and down like a tree and its roots. Sifu Alas' s hand lifted gently as he spoke, "That's enough for today."
"But we haven't practiced yet."
"Yes we have."
They went back inside the little wood house in the woods.
Once a week, Rai practiced marathon meditation. Once a week, his fear crept up to choke him. Despite his ignorance of the fact, he was starting to fight it, just by facing it.

Chiang Shang Pa Kua Zhang - Sincerity:

As time passed, day by day as it does, Rai got stronger, faster, leaner, and smarter. He began to gain command of his body and enact the training well, to his Sifu's sparce praise. But most importantly, his meditations had become easier. His fear was not gone but he could power through it. It bothered him much less than the first day, if at all. He was confident, maybe, too confident.
"Sifu, IknowIwon'tyetbeabletobeatyou, but I think, Icandefendmyself."
Sifu Alas rose from the table with his chopsticks and clamped them firmly on Rai's ear before dragging him outside. As Rai held his ear in agony and opened his mouth to ask, the door shut. He ran up to it and knocked furiously. "Sifuletmein! Idon'tknowwhatIdid!" Rai kept knocking. A wood square slid back in the wood door at eye level. No one peered out. There was only darkness. "Go pick a fight in Rukongai," Sifu said.
"Waitwhat?! Whatdayamean?!"
The slat closed and Rai stood against the door completely confused. Then he reassured himself. He took pride in his training, and stomped off down the wood porch onto the road into town.

It was still daylight, although barely. The sky had begun to take on hues of gold and scarlet. In the foliage of the forest surrounding the road, yellow beams of light danced to the tune of the breeze. Appearing and disappearing as branches dipped and swayed. Rai squinted his eyes to shield from the sun almost directly in front of him as he walked to Rukongai. The town was close as he could see the outermost buildings. Sifu Alas lived an hour or so walk from the density of people. He chose instead the density of nature to be his residence. "Thatshackwouldrotwithoutme," he said. He walked with his fists clenched. Still a bit angry he was so easily expelled. As he stomped forward, a glint of light caught his attention out of his peripherals. He turned to investigate but kept walking. The rush of air and rustle of leaves barely left anytime for Rai to realize that he was upside down with his foot in a noose.
"Well lookie here boys! It's one of the waiters from Ishimaki's." A tall, slender man with sharp nails came out of the woodwork to see his catch. It was the leader of the gang of thugs Sifu Alas had beaten terribly so many moons ago. He licked his long talons as he walked towards his hanging victim. Two other hooligans followed behind him.
"Ahaha! It's the scruffy, little waiter kid!" One of the followers was an excited little scrapper.
"I bet he's got... some nice tips..." the last thug was a bit slow and deep vocally from his fat rolls.
The first yank of the rope jogged Rai up into the air and squeezed the loop tighter around his ankle. Then came the beatings. They bashed him with fists and sticks. Rai brought up his arms to protect what little he could. Then came the scratches. The thug leader's long sharp talons dug gashes into Rai's skin. He was a pinata spilling blood, grunts and yells for their brutal entertainment. Then he was floating, no, falling. He splattered onto the ground, his limbs spilling like a viscous liquid onto the dirt road.
The world was a blur of colors. His cheeks swelled preventing vision. He could barely breathe from broken ribs. But his hearing was acute. The sound of feet dragging was followed by ringing metal and body thumps. Screams and cries rang out as Rai regained enough strength and vision to raise his head and focus in on a man standing between bodies slowly dissolving upward into blue specks of glowing energy. In one hand, he clutched a cane, in the other, the head of a cane that resolved itself as a thin blade of shiny, white grey metal. Then everything went black.

"Ugh!" A splash of water startled Rai to awaken.
"Ok enough naptime." Rai was still in the same spot. Underneath him was a bed of leaves. His open wounds were coated in some green yellow paste and his ankle was wrapped in vines and leaves. He looked over to follow Sifu's voice. Sifu Alas sat close by with his back to a tree looking into the smoking embers of what was a campfire. By his side was his cane. Rai flashed back to that hazy image of a cane sword. "Was that a dream?" He thought to himself.
A stick landed across Rai's stomach, "Ok use that to prop yourself up. Let's go home." Sifu Alas started walking back down the road. Rai popped up on one leg. He couldn't put much weight on his ankle without shooting pain. His Sifu had fashioned a crutch out of a Y shaped branch. It was a perfect fit. Rai looked down the road in the direction of Rukongai. He hadn't even made it into town. He turned around to follow his Sifu.

Chiang Shang Pa Kua Zhang - Wisdom:

The wood shack they called home was in sight. Rai had gotten used to the crutch and was keeping up with Sifu Alas, albeit behind him. He took a moment to look down at his Sifu's cane. There was no seam. No visible gap that one could discern a blade hidden within.
"Sifu..., Rai spoke softly, "...I...I'm sorry..." The old man slowed his pace to be beside Rai. "You have not yet learned a lesson, but now are ready to receive it. There are many things a martial artist must cultivate. Two of the most important are: humility and sincerity." They sat on the front wood porch of the woodland shack, "but what do those words mean Rai?"
"Well not what I was doing right?"
Sifu chuckled, "Humility is keeping yourself in check. No matter how good you think you get. You and everyone and everything come from the same source. We are no better or worse than anyone or anything. This goes hand in hand with sincerity. Sincerity is being true to yourself, honest to yourself. Without shrouds of lies patting the ego, we can truly know ourselves and our ability. Nature is humble and sincere. The cherry blossom does not bloom to show off but because that is its nature. It does not try to bloom in winter because it is humbled by cold and knows its best season. It is honest saying I am a cherry blossom and I bloom in spring. It does not try to be an evergreen. It does not try to be a lotus. It is true to itself and humble when it needs to be. An old kung fu brother of mine used to say, 'Check your ego, before it wreaks havoc on you' or something of that nature. He was a much better rhymer and wordsmith than me." Shifu laughed. Rai could only ponder in silence as his brain raged in thought.

With Rai's sprained ankle and various bruises, the next weeks were excruciating. Physical training eased but only a minute fraction with philosophy, meditation and visualization filling in the gaps of spare time. He needed to ease off the injury but simultaneously keep it in use so as not to atrophy. The recovery was brutal. But while is body got a small break, his mind took a few leaps, absorbing the new information and letting it sink in with bits of application testing. Sifu Alas felt the time opportune to show bits of eastern medicine, anatomy, acupuncture and massage.
Once the excuses of injury dropped away, training resumed with a myriad of new, yet still basic, skills, techniques and practice routines. Forms and sequences were added to Rai's training, testing memory and intent. The basic bafuncampu was increased from simple dragon stance and 4 directional stepping to pivoting and diagonal stepping. But then came a great conundrum, Shifu was having him walk in circles; but not just regular, everyday, stroll through the park walking. No no, this was a low, bent knee and outstretched arms circle walking. In a big, fifteen foot wide circle around a marked tree. And it hurt. Well everything hurt but this was especially difficult. An endurance test in essence. Just a few revolutions clockwise and counter were enough to exhaust him. Yet Sifu seemed completely at ease in those few minutes. Perhaps, even a bit disappointed in having to stop. The onslaught of new bits seemed to never end. And Rai's weaknesses seemed to have no end. Just when he got the hang of something, it changed. Just when he thought he could do something easily, it changed. Just when he thought he mastered one technique there was another. But Sifu had said, "Ba Gua is the art of change". So he kept changing.

They sat on the floor for dinner upon padded cushions. The Japanese table that popped up from the floorboards was low and designed for this. As Rai brought up a clump of rice and vegetables to his mouth, he spied Shifu's cane. The hazy memory of a sword cane and sheath flashed white before his eyes.
"Focus Rai." Sifu Alas snapped him back with words. Rai fumbled a few bites as he left the thought, but chewed in a slight daze at the lingering curiosity.
"Sifu...," he paused his next lift of his chopsticks, "Your cane. Is-is it-isitasword?"
Sifu laughed softly, "Your next training is going to be on fumbling words." Rai let out a brief, nervous chuckle. There was a bit of silence as the two took a few bites. "Yes." The answer was as sudden as tripping on a curb and caused Rai to let food spill out of his mouth as it struck him. Sifu got up from the table, grabbed his cane and walked towards the front door, "Finish up." Rai quickly shoved a bit of food into his mouth and dropped his bowl. He knocked the table a bit in his hurried excitement and almost spilled the drinks. Luckily, his arms snapped out a clutched the cups that in turn stabilized the open mouth pitcher. Letting out a deep sigh, he let it all go slowly and backed away.
In the front yard, as Rai came out of their wood shack, Sifu Alas was pruning the dying segments of a young tree. Rai had seen Sifu planting and tending to the forest around their home many times. He would often disappear into its depths as Rai practiced. But this time, instead of any one from the assortment of cutters and scissors Sifu typically used, he was cutting with a sword. The same sword cane Rai had seen in his vision before blacking out. "So it wasn't a dream," he thought to himself. Shifu waved his free hand to call Rai over, so he leapt.
"Do you know of the shinigami, Rai?" He continued to work on the tree.
"Yeah I've seen a few, sincebeingsentbyonetoRukongaianyway."
"And what do you know about them?"
"Well... theyhaveauniform. They... protectthewholeofsoulsociety and... wait... theyhaveasword! Sifusashinigami?!" Rai bounced with excitement, blending words into a speedy blur of speech.
Sifu only looked in amusement, "I'll take it you figured it out." He finished the tree and sheathed his sword. Upon close inspection the gap of separation between blade and sheath seemed to magically disappear as the two blended seamlessly. He pointed at the tree now with his cane. "These 13 branches represent the 13 divisions of the Gotei 13, the organization of shinigami, or death gods, for the most part." He put his cane down, "Those gifted with powers and abilities or that wish to acquire such abilities can apply for the Shinigami Academy and upon completion join the ranks depending on their best suited division, since each is specialized in something. In addition, to getting your own zanpakutou. That would be this here sword cane of mine." Sifu smacked the trunk with his cane, "These souls are burdened with protecting Soul Society and the human realm. They balance the realms, keeping things in check and invariably controlling the influx of souls to Soul Society." Sifu tapped Rai's stomach with the blunt tip of his cane, "One day, when you get tired of me and wish to use what I've given you, you can be one of them." He laughed at his own joke. Rai was hypnotized by the idea.

Chiang Shang Pa Kua Zhang - Benevolence

Rai had always been curious, questioning, an all too eager sponge soaking up selective bits of knowledge that churned his insides and drove him to know. But there was only so much to ask of the outside world here. In the forest, he had asked of the trees and grass and bushes and animals. They answered with their kinds and tendencies, likes and dislikes. In the garden, he had interrogated the flowers and fruit and vegetables and weeds. He questioned the bugs, the birds, and the breeze. He questioned the sun. He questioned the rain. He even questioned Sifu, a thing which goes against traditional forms of martial teaching. But all those questions with all their responses satisfied only for the moment. They quenched a thirst to dissipate mystery and left a void outside. And by the universal equalization of pressures, the inside was brought outside. Rai began to question himself.
His meditation shifted to contemplation, contemplation of his self. This inward curiosity was a double edged sword. It revealed his flaws as well as his strengths. He could ask deeper questions and find the roots of his personality. He could see himself reflected in the outside world and find lessons in the leaves, advice in the trees. Questioning Sifu on the practice became less frequent. He could deduce on his own, and to a small extent, catch his own problems and mistakes. These compounded. Until one day, "Sifu, IfeelI'mnot progressing." Rai stood up straight in the tilled garden. The vegetables to be planted clutched in hand.
"There are many plateaus in the Ba Gua journey, as in life." Sifu continued to push the saplings into the soft dirt as he waddled about in a full squat.
"YesI'vehadthosebefore, but this is different. I just feel like I'm no good. Justuseless." Rai got back to work, waddling with his butt on his heels.
Sifu let out a sigh as he paused. With a mighty groan he rose to his feet and transitioned seamlessly into a groaning, yelling yawn. He laughed to himself as birds fluttered about in bewilderment. "I knew this day would come again." He walked over to Rai and raised him up by the shoulders. "This time, I won't drag you out by the ear." Sifu smiled wide.
Rai's body relaxed as he eased into acceptance, "You're kicking me out again?"
Sifu Alas laughed, "What good are you here?! A martial artist in his prime is of little use in a monastery gardening. I do not need any more stone buddha. You must go. Practice. You can, now."
Rai was silent. Sifu was not just letting him go for a short while. He was completely releasing Rai to the world. There would be no coming back to the comfort of his Sifu, his dojang.
"You can visit for tea. The world, is your dojang now. You are ready and capable. Now go before I cry." Sifu Alas pushed Rai with enough force to send him stumbling out of the garden. As if pulled out from the soft tilled earth of Sifu's garden, he was plucked, harvested. His time here was finished.


To Be continued... (4.21.2014)


Zanpakuto:
Spirit: Bokuden

Appearance:
    Bokuden is a black bearded tomb bat with lightly colored wisps of hair, an obvious beard and dark brown, close to black, skin. He has tiny sharp claws and tiny sharp teeth but uses them for fruit so no worries on getting your neck sucked on. His eyes are milky white orbs that seem to glow ever so slightly, contrasted by his dark brown skinned wings. He also prefers to wear a bowtie. Rai’s only guess is that Boku (as he refers to him) is just a classy bat with an eye for knotted neckwear.
Black bearded tomb bat

Spirit world:
    Bokuden hangs from the jagged roof of a dark, wet cave. The only light comes from his glowing eyes and the far away entrance. The ground or bottom of the cave is uneven and as such, riddled with ponds of water that have condensed from the air or come in with the rains. Outside the cave is a vast forest that changes abruptly in climate from mile to mile. Like patches of the world stitched together in a makeshift quilt, the worlds butt up against each other with no transition between. You could literally stand in a desert and under a large redwood simultaneously, and then go through the redwoods to encounter a huge swath of tropical plantain trees. The atmospheres of these climates are also harshly juxtaposed via invisible magical membranes, much the way bubbles couple. But Bokuden rarely leaves the homeostatic consistency of the cave. Only to eat does he wander the variety of this world. And even then, he considers simply hunting grub in the cave to sustain his self.

Shikai release: Satoru, Bokuden ---(To Awaken/To Enlighten/To Understand, Bokuden)

Shikai release sequence:
(also known to us 90s kids as the power ranger, sailor moon, transformers, dragon ball z transformation sequence)
    In order to release his shikai and summon Bokuden, Rai must stab himself with his zanpakuto. Typically done through the torso, this action is not painful, at least not anymore. The zanpakuto infects Rai’s body starting at the contact site and radiating outward. For a brief moment, a flash of light ushers forth before the rays redirect and get sucked back to their source, Rai’s body. This infection desaturates fifty percent of the color from his body, clothing, etc. and makes him translucent, like a very thin slice of rock or veneer of any sort allows light to pass, to a degree. Beneath this newfound translucence, a cloudy white fluid slowly shifts about, like milk in water. It bellows and swirls outward from his heart and lungs, as the organs contract and expand, causing ripples in the fluid. The energy fluid undulates to the extremities. Much like disturbing a mixture of fluids, the milky energy shifts and disperses like clouds into the clearer, watery counter energy, the yin mixing with yang. As Rai utilizes his internal energy, the milk substance seems to die down take up less space in the mixture allowing more of the clear watery fluid to slosh about. Upon ingestion of more energy, the milky fluid magically returns to cloud the mixture. This state remains constant throughout shikai and extends to the sword as well once it is pulled out of him.

Shikai ability: ---


Skills: ---


Fighting Style:
    Rai is a go with the flow, be like water, tactician. What does that mean? He goes in with no plan and formulates as the battle goes on. The longer the battle, the higher are his chances of coming up with ways to defeat an opponent, in the nicest and safest ways possible of course. His teacher’s motto was, “You float like mosquito and sting like carry malaria.” His shifu’s mastery of Ba Gua was not transferred over into language.
    His speed and agility are his greatest physical assets. The art of Ba Gua Chang focuses heavily on mobility through it bafuncampu training or eight direction rooted stepping training. As such, Rai is efficient, fast, light and balanced. He understands the mechanics of the body and how to utilize angles for catching opponents off balance and at inopportune moments. He twists and pivots, sinks and leaps, turns and lunges all from the same stable dragon stance as if having practiced it for a lifetime, because he has. Due to this high level of speed, Rai entertains himself in sparring matches or battles with lesser opponents by using unorthodox rules or poses. He may attack an opponent with hugs, or banish his arms behind him entirely. Cuff weights, and weighted garments in general, have been known to be used by Rai as a method of downgrading his speed to even the playing field.


Difficulty: Hard
OOC name: blackhack
Face Claim: Do I have to face claim things like the bat or dwarves and stuff? Not really taking point for point the semblance of a character from something.