Name: Heishuro Maruchi

Age: 22

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Zodiac sign: Aries (April 2nd)

Hand and feet preference: Both right, although his left foot isn’t far behind his right.

Hair: Black (tied back into a small ponytail)

Eyes: Hazel, with a lightning strike tattoo narrowly missing his left one.

Weight: 200lb

Height: 5’9”

Weapon: Heishuro wields a pair of Nunchaku called Xuriken (Sure-ee-ken) . They are made from steel and are linked to Heishuro’s soul. This is the only weapon that allows him to use magic through. The bones in his feet are made from strong steel, due to an accident he had when he was five. (see bio)

Armour: Heishuro relies more on speed to keep him out of harms way, so apart from his red leather amour, he has no protection.

Strengths: Heishuro is fast, agile, strong and extremely fit. A blackbelt in the Japanese Martial Arts; (Budō) he was proclaimed as "The World's Greatest," in Budō, Karate, Jujitsu and Ninjitsu. Though he combined all his skills into his own unique fighting style; with which he won the World Martial Art’s championship with.

He wields Xuriken powerfully. He is also very adept at kicks, so he tries different combinations of nunchaku and kicking attacks. His expertise stretches fully across weapons and striking training, though his grappling isn’t up to his high standards; although his grapples would be considered exceptional to others.

His nunchaku allows him to use magic through the weapon. He can conjure any inanimate object or summon elements to his advantage. He does it as he thinks of it. He is actually an avid magician, but he needs his nunchaku to be able to do anything. This is because the magical genes in his blood can only be awoken with a magical outlet. He cannot be separated with his nunchaku, if either he or the weapon moves away, the other moves with him.

He can control and create Fire, Water, Darkness, Light, Earth and Wind. But perhaps his strongest feature is his mind. Although not particularly intelligent, his imagination works well with his magic.

Weakness: He is young, naïve and cocky. He thinks he is better than everyone and makes enemies easily. He’ll make simple mistakes and never admit he is wrong.

He gets angry easily and that will cause him to make even more mistakes. He also has no real protection, although he can dish out the punishment, he seldom doesn’t receive any back.

His reluctance is perhaps his most vulnerable point. Although he will kill; it may take needless justification and mental battles.

Skills/Magic: He has a variety of signature techniques and skills for his nunchaku, although these are but the most common of them:

Stances:

Rage Stance: Heishuro constantly moves Xuriken in this stance, making it easy to attack. He can attack quickly and unpredictably in this stance, although he can’t deal with attack’s as well.

Defensive Stance: This time Heishuro pulls the nunchucks away from one another, making the chain tense and tight. This makes is easier to block attacks but harder to attack.

Balanced Stance: This is Heishuro’s most common stance, he will start any battle in this stance. He juggles the two nunchucks in each hand. He can quickly switch to each stance from this and it gives a nice balance of defence and offence.

Special blows:

Double blow: Heishuro grabs the chain of Xuriken, so when he swings them, both nunchucks can strike the enemy.

Knock down: He swings a nunchuck around the opponents leg, then catches it. He twisted his body and kicks them hard in the chest. They fall backwards as he pulls the nunchaku, tripping them up.

Roundhouse blow: Heishuro jumps high into the air and places his left foot on the enemies left shoulder. He grips his nunchaku with his toes and smacks the enemy in the face with both his foot, and his nunchaku.

Boomerang kick: This ability is a mixture of magic and skill. Heishuro throws his nunchaku in the air and uses magic to position the nunchaku at the back of the opponent. Then Heishuro’s bind to his weapon draws the two together, so the enemy gets hit and kicked from both sides.

Chainsaw kick: Also a mixture of magical and physical abilities. Maruchi levitates and magically rotates his hip and waist muscles to allow him to kick in a swift, smooth, circular motion. Although this is powerful and quick, it will cause aches to his hips and lower back.

Chained Palm: Using magical lightning to strengthen the chain; Maruchi wraps the nunchucks around his flat palm. Then whilst attacking (palm strike in particular) the attack causes more damage.

Appearance: Heishuro wears a red leather jacket with no sleeves or buttons, though with no opening apart from underneath. (untucked) He wears slightly darker red trousers, (crimson) that fall down to the top of his ankles. He wears no shoes, for the skin on his feet is strong enough to withstand any terrain. His ears barely come away from his head; instead they stick to the side of his head, like elven ears. Despite his small stature, he has broad shoulders. He has a black tattoo on his face of a lightning strike. It stretches from between his ear and eye to the left side of his mouth. He boasts his blackbelt in Martial Arts also.

Theme Songs: Driven by Rush. - Joker by Steve Miller Band.

Personality: Heishuro is cocky, arrogant and very self-centred. If he doesn’t like someone, he won’t keep it quiet, he will insult them and make sure he gets his point across as clearly as possible.

But in everything he does, he means well. He is actually quite kind, but feels he needs to appear confident to attract the attention he so desperately craves for.

He doesn’t believe in any particular religion or god, he cannot find time for it. Deep down he wants love, but he tries not to let that show, he feels he has to stay strong of the outside to prevent him from going soft on the inside. He gives away trust quite easily, sometimes too easily; it can lead to him being betrayed or heartbroken. Inside, he is very emotional, but his cocky exterior hides this well.

Biography: Heishuro was abandoned at birth, he never knew his parents. Although he was raised in Japan, he speaks with a strong American accent. He was taken in by a martial arts organisation, they found him in the street, with a lightning strike tattoo already injected flawlessly, running down his face as if a tear.

When he was five, he landed awkwardly, after attempting a roundhouse kick. He broke both his feet and had to have all of his feet and lower legs reconstructed. The doctors said that his bone marrow was unique, so they rebuilt his feet bones with strong steel, which remains polished within his feet to this day.

He was raised as a fighter, and trained day and night to build the perfect balance of strength, speed and skill. The organisation was in Tokyo city. It was there that he won the martial arts tournament that proved him to be: “The best fighter on Earth.” But having beaten the world, and achieved success despite everything. But in 2003, at Tokyo‘s national arena, new path awakened in front of Heishuro...

~~~

“Heishuro!” Anger blasted out from a small red haired woman, who was sending a devil glare at Heishuro.

“Up yours Fujima! I’m not fighting today!” Heishuro’s young voice sounded pitiful next to the loud shriek of the small Japanese lady.

The pair was in a large martial arts arena, the best money could buy. Whilst crowds poured in to watch the scheduled fight, Maruchi Vs Amarez. Japan Vs Mexico. The world champion Vs The #1 contender. It was truly the worlds greatest stage. But backstage in the champion’s dressing room, the champ was arguing his case against his manager, Fujima.

The small women walked over to Heishuro, who was seated on a bench. “Listen…” This time her voice was calm, with an air of understanding about it. “I know it seems unfair, like the whole world wants you beat?” She looked at him with a kindness in her eyes.

Heishuro nodded as he spoke. “Yeah… but not allowed to use my weapon of choice, or even any kicks? That’s just unfair,” he whined.

“Kid, it’s a non-weapon fight, so your nunchaku can’t be used. You can understand that, right?” She explained.

“But what about the kicks? It’s not my fault my bones are stronger than most peoples! It was an accident!” He replied hastily.

“Not many martial artists try roundhouse kicks at the age of five, Heishuro.” Fujima’s mouth curled upwards into a slight smile as she spoke. Both of them burst out laughing.

Finally, Fujima managed to convince Heishuro of one thing: It didn’t matter what the conditions were, what handicap was put in place, Heishuro would always be the best. Before long, people were cheering for Heishuro; like every night.

“Go on Maruchi! Show ‘em Japan’s the best country in the world!”

The crowd’s chants filled the arena as Heishuro dominated the battle, despite his handicap against the bigger Chavo Amarez. Heishuro was barely breaking a sweat; he had other things on his troubled mind.

The young man was on the offensive, breaking through Amarez’s defences like he was holding up paper in front of his face. Finally Maruchi palm struck the Mexican on the right shoulder, breaking and crushing the poor fighter’s shoulder blade and collar bone.

“Arghhh!” Chavo’s cry of agony signalled the end of the competition. Heishuro raised his arm and began hopping on the spot, a familiar grin spread ear to ear. But before long, confusion was all visible on the champion’s face.

A cloaked figure stood amongst the crowd, completely still and silent in the rustle of celebration. Under the black cloak of the figure, the bright lights illuminated one thing: A lightning strike tattoo, identical to the one of his own face, running down the face of the stranger. That Heishuro could now see was female.

“Heishuro! You barely even broke a sweat! And he looks like he was in a boxing match!” Fujima’s squeaky voice sounded far above the crowd and she ran towards him as he was leaving the mat. Maruchi looked at the ecstatic woman, a grin the size of bow was spread across her face, with her tongue flailing about outside her mouth. That was the arrow.

“Err… thanks Fujima. I um…” the fighters voice trailed off as his eyes jerked to the direction of the mysterious woman. She was gone.

“What is it Heishuro? What’s wrong?” Her happiness turned to concern in a flash.

The fighter took one last look in the crowd, hoping to spot the woman again. After failure, Maruchi replied. “Nothing… it was nothing, let go before I get swamped by angry Mexicans.”

~~~

Fujima yawned as she stumbled down the stairs of her large home. Her eyes were barely open and she wore frilly pink pyjamas. She plodded over to her refrigerator, mumbling to herself about whether she should go to buy eggs the next day or on the weekend. She took out a carton of orange juice and began to pour it into a spiralling glass. Before she could finish the orange juice was stained a dark red. Fujima’s head fell to the tiled floor, followed eventually by her body.

“Pitiful human,” an evil voice slithered from a hooded figure, clutching a blood-infested blade. It was the same woman that had been in the crowd, the mysterious, hooded lady that had the same tattoo as Heishuro.

She slowly bent down and dipped two fingers in the pool of crimson running across the tiles, then stood and walked to the nearest wall. She wrote on the wall: [I]“You cannot escape your fate.” She then walked silently over to the open refrigerator. She closed the door, enveloping the room in darkness.

~The Next Morning~

The birds were singing; the sun shining; the city buzzing. It was what some would call “the perfect day.” But for Heishuro, it was to become the single worst day of his life. The champion was on his way to Fujima’s apartment, to schedule any possible matches in the upcoming month.


He opened the door, not knowing that the horror inside would change his life forever. Heishuro stepped inside and gazed horrifically at the slump of bone and blood on the floor that he had once called Fujima. Her innards strewn across the room like sand. The stench of blood riled through the apartment, disturbing Maruchi’s throat and stomach. He coughed violently and spat a mix of blood and breakfast on the floor, adding to collection of horror. He turned away from it, biting his lip as tears began to ripple from his eyes, tracing the shape of his tattoo. But then his grief turned to fear as he saw the words bled into the wall.

“My… fate…?” Hysterics were evident in his shaky words. With those words still ringing, Heishuro sat in a pool of blood and wept, burying his head in his hands and staining his skin red.

But next door; unbeknownst to Maruchil lies… lies… lies.

“Hello!? You have to help, their has been a vicious murder! I can see it through my window, there blood everywhere. I just got home to see a man sitting in a pool of his victim’s blood!”

“Hang on miss, we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Please hurry!” A hooded woman put down a blood-encrusted phone before unveiling her hood to reveal a lightning tattoo. She stared at the neighbours of the small women she had killed; their organs and limbs randomly thrown across their house. Before decapitation, mutilation and ultimately, execution, they were a young couple living together peacefully. But they gave up their lives in order let the sick, psychotic, serial killer frame her target.

“All is going according to plan…”

Sirens. Madness. Chaos. It all happened so fast, it was near impossible for Maruchi to keep track of the next few days. All he knew that and the end of those few horrific days, he was sentenced with the murder of Fujima Kuchiniwa and Seena and Keiro Malaki. He had a life sentence in the Tokyo jail and Chavo Amarez was awarded the world martial arts championship. Yeah, so the champ’s life had taken a bit of a turn for the worse.

“What have I done to deserve this crap!” He screamed as kicked violently into the steel cell’s bars, bending them ever so slightly. His cell mate, Francis, decided to pick this moment to start playing his harmonica. Francis’ brain surgery bill was added to Maruchi’s never-ending list of concerns.

“’Eh? New cell mate…” he said instinctively as he heard the clang of steel on steel. He’d been in jail for over four years, so customs like that were a minimum for him. But as he spun around to see his new acquaintance, he found a familiar face that chilled him to the bone. Well a familiar hood.

“Maruchi! You ‘ave a visitor!” The jail guard bellowed although Heishuro was only a metre away. He left the pair gazing upon each other, the figure’s tattoo stood out like anything to the once famous fighter, but Heishuro’s appearance had been altered in his four tough years. He had a bushy beard the size of a large squirrel and he wore bright orange clothes, standard for a prisoner.

“Are you… Heishuro Maruchi?” A timid voice escaped the black cloaked stranger. Heishuro arched his eyebrow before answering.

“It depends. Who are you to ask for my name?” Maruchi masked a grin behind his bushy cotton-wool like beard.

“I am Taki.” She let her hood down to show her surprisingly red hair and her obvious beauty. “Maruchi.” Pure silence followed her word, a chilling nothingness that tore into Heishuro’s soul.

“M...M...Maruchi…? Did you say… Maruchi?” He asked with wide eyes, but already knowing the answer. She stared at her shoes, tears cleansing them.

“Did you say Maruchi?!” Heishuro demanded hysterically, tears now escaping from his eyes.

“Yes. Heishuro,” She paused for what seemed an eternity, “I am your sister.” She managed to sob, before letting herself fall to her knees, her head cupped in her hands.

“Sister… what?! It cannot be…” As the words left his mouth, darkness dulled his senses, before he dropped to the floor.

~~~

As darkness faded and Maruchi’s senses awoke, he found himself shrouded in nature. A strange wood surrounded him, along with a letter lying on his chest. He sat up and began to read.

Dear Heishuro

I’m sorry for not explaining any of this to you, you must be very confused. I felt that if I told you then you may not believe me, so I’m going to tell you in this letter.

Our parents were Takahiro and Nadine Maruchi, and they were magicians, great magicians. They came from a parallel universe to the world you grew up in: Earth. They were both raised in a mystical place called Ciélaro. This is where you and I were born.

They were known for their powerful combined spells, healing, elemental and conjuring. People knew that if they had children, they would be powerful: Unbelievably powerful. It was both a blessing and a concern to everyone around them. But nevertheless, it was a great shock when I was born.

I have influence over Daemonic magic: More commonly known as Shadow or Dark magic. Magical abilities run through blood, so our family must have had a variety of magicians over the generations. Daemonic magic is widely mislabelled as “evil”, so I was to be banished from Ciélaro. But mother and father still felt love for me, despite my powers. So when I was thirteen, the three of us all left Ciélaro; and came to the sister of our world, Earth.

It was soon after coming to Japan when mother announced her pregnancy with you. But shortly after you birth, Mother and Father were murdered... by who? I do not know yet. The point is: We were all alone. I had recently turned fourteen; I didn’t know how to be a mother! I left you on the doorstep of somewhere where I hoped you would grow strong, and I vowed to come back for you one day. The lightning strike tattoo down your cheek is a family crest, the Maruchi honour. Some may recognise you with it in Ciélaro, so be careful.

After that I went back to Ciélaro, hiding my identity, traveling between the two worlds, surviving for the pure sake of life. It was then when I heard of your success as mortal, and I feared the worst, I feared what I later recognised as the truth: Your powers hadn’t surfaced yet. I studied your lifestyle, your talent, your skill. It pointed in one direction; your talent had dwarfed your magic. So I did what I felt was needed, I murdered your manager, Fujima, and framed you. I apologise deeply for this, I know it caused you suffering of the worst, but it worked the way I had hoped.

Your time in prison gave me the time to construct a way for you to use your dormant magic. So when I visited you that day, I knocked you unconscious and summoned daemons to take us to Ciélaro, where I left you. You’ll find near you a small gift, a magical nunchaku, Xuriken. This weapon will let you use your magic, be it Elemental, Daemonic, Healing or Conjuring. It will surely grant you power.

I apologise from the depths of my soul, I am truly sorry. I will travel Ciélaro now, wandering from place to place. When the time comes, I’ll find you, and alert you to our fate. I know you’ll recognise me, until them.

Your loving sister,

Taki Maruchi

P.S. I shaved your beard, you looked horrible!

Heishuro finished reading the letter as emotions overcame him. Sadness, anger, hate, love, happiness and gratitude all rolled into his mind. Luckily confusion was behind him.

With that, he picked up his new weapon and dove into the unknown.

In the time since then; it has become clear that Maruchi possesses both Elemental and Conjuring magic.[/i]

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Could someone approve my chara- ... Oh wait! *Self-Approved*