Kurokotsu Dokueki

Basics

Name: Kurokotsu Dokueki

Weight: 160

Height: 5'11

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Rank: Jounin

Village: Hidden Mist

Element(s): Lightning, Earth

Personal Info

Family: Akaihana and Ginbara Dokueki (Mother and father, respectively) no known siblings.

Clan: Dokueki Clan

Bloodline: None

Tattoo(s): None

Scar(s): None

Looks: Kurokotsu is an oddity for a Jounin: He no longer wears the dark vest that signifies his ranking, he dyed it black and then cut strips of it off and used them to tie his long black hair back and out of his dark brown eyes. Although it keeps the hair out of his face, it can still whip around and get in his eyes if he turns his head too quickly. Due to this, he also made a few loops out of the vest fabric and tied them down to the back of his black sweater, allowing him to thread his hair through and keep it secured all the way down to the middle of his back. Strapped to the pockets of his black jeans are a pair of dark blue pouches which he keeps his weapons in.

Equipment

Weapon(s): Two pouches, one on each leg, that have shuriken, kunai, senbon, and a few small metallic orbs.

Armor: A pair of steel gauntlets that he keeps strapped on to assist in blocking.

Equipment: Kurokotsu has a small scroll tucked into his left pouch that he has set up a technique to summon additional weaponry on, for when he needs more than what the two pouches can carry themselves.

Extra Info

Bio: The Dokueki Clan wasn't known for any prowess with fighting, nor any long drawn-out history, instead it was known for making some of the best food in the village. The Clan had a single, modest little restaurant near the center of town, a building that had been in their posession for generations. As the time passed, they became relatively famous for the quality of their food, the likes of which shinobi from allied villages would travel across the boundaries of their lands to eat. The Clan had a habit of only ever having one or two children per generation and having those children learn the art of cooking so they could pass down the tradition.

Of course, all cliched dynasties must end at some time, and it ended with the birth of a small child who had an interest in fighting. He was given the name Kurokotsu, meaning dark intentions. Despite the looks of horror he'd get from his relatives, Kurokotsu would watch shinobi fight and would gradually learn how to control his chakra by watching how others would either succeed or fail. Despite his apparent prowess at discerning these skills, his parents insisted upon him continuing the Clan business, until one day he decided to experiment on a pot of soup, causing it to explode and coat the whole kitchen area in tomato innards.

Sensing the impending failure, his family shipped him off to the academy, where he learned to cultivate his natural skills at chakra control. He quickly made it through the academy at the age of fifteen, having entered it only a year before. It was then that he was added into a Squad, under a Jounin who would rather chase after women than lead his pupils. They were always told to work by themselves, and to never rely on the Squad dynamic to save them from danger.

The other two Genin dropped out of the Squad, leaving him and a drunkard of a sensei, always smelling of a night spent out on the town. So, Kurokotsu did the only logical thing for any teenager to do: He secretly stalked his sensei and disrupted his plans every night by either using a jutsu to break his bottle of alcohol, or setting up simple traps that would keep the bumbling buffoon stuck in a net until morning came around. One night he was found out by the Jounin and sent off to the Chunin Exams, having been told to either die or get a higher rank, since either option would mean he would be out of the older man's hair.

Relying on deceitful tactics in his matches, Kurokotsu gained the respect of those in his village who went to watch the spectacle. He reached Chunin as a result of that, and vowed to never speak to the drunkard who taught him ever again, which he was sure was fine by the other man. He worked hard on all his missions, having completed missions with relative ease which would have severely injured a proper three student, one teacher squad.

It was through this talent and his attitude that he gained the rank of Jounin and also began learning his second element, earth. Between that and his natural element of lightning, Kurokotsu learned how to use magnetism and other such combinations which fueled his desire to get stronger.

Once he learned how to fuse his elements for his benefit, Kurokotsu set about changing his appearance. In the place of where he used to have skimpy half-empty weapon pouches, he had large over-stuffed ones, each with enough weapons for a normal fight and one weapons scroll for summoning more.

Rp sample:

“So…you really want to die that badly?” Asked a man shrouded in a black cape, only his grinning mouth visible. He spoke to a man with all the determination in the world etched on his face. In his left hand he held a kusarigama coated thoroughly in blood. In his right hand, he held a long mechanical barrel, as thin as the finger he had on the trigger.
With a chuckle from the cloaked one, the murderous man pulled the trigger and sent a long chain out at the other man. As it shot out, he spun the kusarigama and flung the sickle straight at the other man’s head.

Throwing his cape at the chain-wielding figure, the now uncloaked man grasped both weapons by their chains and tied the ends together, both of his hands forming handsigns as he went. As he finished the last one, he ran quickly up to the other man and flung the tips of the weapons he held in his hands, the tips embedding themselves into the knuckles, right next to the handles that were clasped in firm hands.

With a smirk, the newly visible figure snapped his fingers, calling out the name of his jutsu. “Magnetic Explosion Jutsu,” he said simply, the metallic weaponry developing a powerful magnetic charge along the two lengths of chain. As the technique neared its completion, the handles still in the other man’s grasp and the tips embedded in his knuckles began shaking, struggling to get away from the object with the same charge.

This followed one of the basic laws of magnetism that stated that objects of the same magnetic pole will push away from each other. This pushing caused the handles to fly straight up into the man’s face, and the tips to shoot down straight through his fingers and severed them, pushing downward until the weapons shot into the ground.

Then with a flick of his eyes toward the sky, the chains straightened out fully and pushed the now fingerless man about ten feet into the sky before giving out and dropping him down on his neck. The bell that signified his reaching of the ground level was the sickening snapping sound of his neck as it broke against the pavement.

Bowing his head softly, the man ran his hands through his long black hair and picked up a note hidden within the clothes of the other man, a note that explained the riot he was to cause the following day which would send the Mist Village into disarray.

With his mission completed, he turned on his heel and made his way back toward the village, where he would then report the details of his mission. “Why do I always get the crappy ones?...” He said to himself with a sigh, watching as the mist coalesced and formed a cowl over the body of the dead man, as if hiding him from sight until one of the fishermen came in the morning and found him dead.

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