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 Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 2:01 pm
 Your Username:Schone KrimiYour Interests: Open-minded. Ask me and see if I do it. :3
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 2:02 pm
Lives in: Broken House
N a m e : ノ Hisoka Satou ヽ
A g e : ノ S З V З N T З З N ヽ
H e i g h t : ノ Five Foot, Eight Inches ヽ
W e i g h t : ノ One Hundred and sixteen pounds ヽ
P e r s o n a l i t y : ノ Hisoka is both immature and very responsible at the same time. He will easily listen to orders, but he will mentally complain about how unfair they are the whole time he does it. His way of doing the chore he doesn’t want to do is by doing it much slower than he really could. That’s his rebellion. However, if you give him something that he things is really worth it, he will get it done and be enthusiastic about it and even think that you are the best person in the world—for like, five minutes until you give him something lame to do once more.
He is much like a teenager in his mood-switches—and is hypocritical. As much as he dislikes organization for the whole purpose it makes things harder if everything ISN’T laying out, so he keeps his living space a completely mess—though he knows where absolutely everything is. Well… mostly. Hisoka is usually very good at keeping things to himself, but his temper is like this little bubble that when you poke it too much it will just explode and he will do and say things that he knows he will regret later, but it becomes an ‘out of body’ experience and he just can’t stop himself. So after he loses his anger, you can often find him moping like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs while he works and does everything asked of him without complaining. ヽ
S p e c i a l t i e s : ノ Ever since he was a child, he had a keen sense of observation. It almost pushes on OCD sometimes when he noticed things like a small amount of dirt of a finger print—or an unzipped fly the moment someone comes in. He can quickly come up with a theory for a situation and it is usually correct—when he really wants to. Also, he leanrs quickly in new situations. He may not be the top dog of anything like dealing or killing, but if you toss him a weapon and he has someone to watch for a number of seconds he’ll be able to copy a style of fighting or learn how to hack a computer. It all has to do with his over-active analyzing powers. ヽ
F a v o r i t e W e a p o n s :
ノ Cestus; Hisoka favors close combat because he is confident in his speed and thus, enjoy’s wearing cestus which are like gloves that go up to about the elbow made out of fabric until the first where there is flexible, but strong metal. They can be compared to iron knuckles, but the look much cleaner and can be worn easily without looking silly or too out of place.
Poison Jouhyou; These are small darts with specially picked types of poison on them, differing for the situation. Attached to the small darts are razor sharp wires that are even more invisible. It’s comparable to fishing string, but much stronger and sharper when it is straightened. However, it becomes completely useless if it sags at all.
Bolas; This is a throwing weapon used to capture animals or people by entangling their legs—though it can be thrown around their torso. It has short 2-3 meter ropes and round weights tied at each end so when it wraps, it locks.
L96 Sniper Rifle; It keeps him back out of the danger of the front lines, but it allows him to pick people off with his precise aim. In a way; it also makes it easier to attack without consequence of being where he wasn’t supposed to since he can be at a distance.
Tableware; Hisoka grew up in the kitchen, so it’s no surprise that he started to play with silverware, first spinning it between his fingers and then gaining the aim to throw it and have it stick. Normally he will through forks and knives—spoons are reserved for deflecting things or smashing hard into someone’s hand to disable it or get something out of the hand. This is also effect because no on ever suspects silverware to be used to fight with. So it’s pretty under the scope. ヽ
B a c k g r o u n d : ノ Hisoka had absolutely no involvement with the yakuza for a long time; but his family around him absolutely did. Hisoka’s father owned a small café, that’s where he met Hisoka’s mother. They hit it off and she would come in every day, sometimes she’d bring her brother and he’d bring various other people, especially near closing time. These people were usually part of the yakuza. His mother’s brother was part of an active family, and Hisoka’s father only learned this after they were married, however, involvement didn’t start there… The involvement began after Hisoka’s mother passed away as she gave birth to her one and only son. The bills piled up for both the funeral and for the café. There was absolutely no way that Hisoka’s father knew that he could do this, and then his brother-in-law approached him privately, and so started his involvement with the yakuza.
Hisoka’s uncle frequented the little café more often after that. As soon as he was old enough, Hisoka started to help out in the café and would see his uncle as well as the people who came in looking for him or picking something up. Hisoka had amazing observation skills and every time he would watch them. His father always said there was nothing special about them as he tried to keep his kid from getting involved with the yakuza like he was and Hisoka pretended that he didn’t notice anything at all just so he would not get into trouble. However, everything that Hisoka knew was only theories and speculations. All of it was proven the day he heard his father was shot in some kind of fight that was breaking out.
Hisoka was just newly sixteen at the time; and his uncle approached him with a deal. If Hisoka didn’t take it, then he would have been sent to a foster family and the shop would be indefinitely shut down. Hisoka quickly jumped into agreement, being as naïve as he was, without reading between any of the lines. Hisoka was not exactly adopt, but he was put to work immediately. He wasn’t thrown into the middle of fighting, somehow, they were not that cruel, though Hisoka would tell you otherwise. In a way, he had been given to the twins who were the children of the head of the family. He had become something of a plaything for them and from the beginning Hisoka understood that he couldn’t really argue with them, though he always had inward battles because of the disagreement he always fought with when they told him what to do.
Hisoka hated it—he wanted to be out there like everyone else. He even thought about how his father was shot and came to think that even HE was out there on the front lines with everyone and wasn’t just some stupid gopher—a term he preferred much more than ‘play thing’.
It felt like everyone was disrespecting him and underestimating him just because he was—because he was Hisoka. His age had nothing to do with it, he realized considering how they all treated the twins who were much younger than him. Now it’s a year later, and he’s still trying to work his way up the latter to get the respect he deserves, however, with Hisoka’s personality, there is possibly something that’s keeping him where he is at… ヽ
L i k e s : ノ Cooking, Cats, Action, Information, Respect. ヽ
D i s l i k e s : ノ Being Left Out, Under-Estimation, Smoke, Microwave food(it’s disgraceful!), and Organization(in a room setting). ヽ
P u l l s m y s t r i n g s : ノ Schone Krimi ヽ
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Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2009 8:21 pm
Lives in: Let The Caged Birds Fly
 n i . » . r a n . » . w a n g [ sarcastic » suggestive » secretive ] [ No one really thinks of others, you will lose everything if you can’t keep up. ]»» ___________ «« c a l l m e // [ niran or eric ] b i r t h d a y // [ november . third . 1990 || eighteen ] c h r o m o s o m e // [ male ] o r i e n t a t i o n // [ I’m not picky. ] r e a c h t o t h e s k y // [ six foot three inches ] g r a v i t y a f f e c t s m e t o o // [ one hundred fifty-three pounds. ] m y i n j e c t i o n // [ the demon ] s m o k e a n d s h a d o w s // [ I have dark brown, almost black colored eyes. They do not hold any special colors that reflect in the light they are just dark. Some people have told me they felt themselves get lost in them before. I also have natural, jet black colored hair that I keep at a length where it reaches my shoulders, and that which fall beside my cheeks are cut short to just fall to the end of my chin to frame my face. From there my hair is cut shorter and shorter as it goes more in towards my face until it is chopped to be a length that ends just after my eyebrows. I have a natural tan skin tone from my Thai ancestors. I’m am over six feet tall, but my build isn’t buff. It’s more towards the lean side as well as the thin side. Which one has more presidency on my body, I am unsure. I have a silver bellybutton piercing as well as a silver ring in the lobe of my right ear.
My clothing style? I would not say I prefer any clothing over another. I wear whatever is available to wear which can be jeans and novelty T-shirts, or it could be white button up shirts with slacks and a business jacket. More often than not I guess I dress more casual formal since I do consider my looks to be important and do not really like being seen by other’s with an inappropriate dress. ] »» ___________ ««
t h e d r e a m d e v i l // [ …Why do I have to repeat the day I was born as part of my introduction? I don’t believe it was that big of a deal in my life. It’s not even set in stone if that was or wasn’t the day I was born, so we’ll skip it.
I spent the first twelve years of my life living in an orphanage in Bangkok, Thailand. My supposed birthplace, unknown. My supposed parents? Also unknown. Do I care? Not really. The orphanage was fine. The workers took care of me to the best of their abilities, but as soon as I became old enough to take care of myself, the attention I needed from them drastically dropped. I started to leave the orphanage grounds and into the city more and more often. Especially after I met a man who taught me everything I know today.
It only took me a year to decide that I would leave the orphanage. I didn’t really have hope that I would get adopted so I just figured it wouldn’t matter and I left. I never got along well in the interviews anyways. I was too quiet, they would say and those that appreciated the silence would then find something else, small, about my habits, and just move on. I really didn’t care. It felt like a slave trade anyway. Kids are just another excuse to pound free labor out of someone. My mentor didn’t disagree when I told him I believed that. He actually laughed and told me I said too many grown up things for a thirteen year old.
I came to live with him and a number of other people he shared living space with in a building no body really used anymore somewhere in the Rat Burana district of Bangkok. There I learned everything that I know today. How to swindle, how to lie believably, how to do the magic tricks, and even how to score a free meal. I wasn’t upset with my life. Every day I would go out and pick on the kids more my age to get what I needed for the day. I cheated them, some would get pissed and want to kick my a** and I’d get out of it. I’m really, really good at getting out of it. I never worried about going to school like they did. They had the uniforms, they had the knowledge, they had the teachers and the parents breathing down their backs about their futures. Something that I never stepped on once and didn’t plan to because of where I lived, it didn’t seem to matter to any of my roommates.
At one point in time, the police actually busted into our living space and a number of my mates were taken in. My mentor was one of them. He’d told me to go, and so I did. I haven’t seen him since that time, or any of the other’s for that matter. I found a new place to stay and I ran my own small business and took care of myself. Now how I got to where I am today… the island… It’s like a free paid vacation or something. It doesn’t even look like Thailand, so who am I to complain? I think…. Back at the time… well, the last thing I remember was… I walked into a restaurant. I started to flirt with this one guy who I noticed too special interest in me when I walked in and before I knew it, he’d bought me a bowl of Khao Pad. We talked, we left together, we headed for a hotel, and then…. BAM.
I wake up on an island. Maybe he really was that sugar daddy at infinitum. If you know what I mean. ]
y o u r w o r s t n i g h t m a r e // [ I am… optimistic in a strange way. The smallest thing can look good to me in ways that in wouldn’t to other. I mean; roof, over the head—yay. So I didn’t volunteer to be somewhere, if it’s better than where I was, than who am I to complain? That is another thing, I’m not really the type of person to complain, even if I don’t like the situation. I find it idiotic to sit and complain about something if you can obviously find a way out of it or change it so it is to your liking. Complaining is the lazy-man’s way to make change by annoying the crap out of anyone who is around until they get up and make the change. I’ve seen it happen. If I’m not happy with how things are then I will either say something to the person or I will make a change myself. Sometimes it might seem forceful of me, but that’s just because most people don’t know what it looks like to make a change.
At the same time, I’m very adaptable. If I don’t like something, I don’t automatically try and go and change it, but I try and adjust to deal with it and as soon as it feels impossible is when I do something, but usually that takes extreme circumstances.
By now it should be obvious that I’m not an honest person when it comes to facts about myself, but when it comes to things about other people, I try not to lie. I would never tell a women that she looks good when she asks just to comfort her ego. It is not considered mean to me, it is considered being honest. If she asked for the opinion, I believe that she wants it. If she wants an ego boost, then she should ask for people to lie to her. That will likely be the only time you will find me telling the truth, when it’s about someone else—but that doesn’t guarantee it.
I’m clever, but I’m not smart. I’m intelligent but I couldn’t tell you most things people learn in school. I do not know history, I do not know much about science, aside from human anatomy, and even that I do not know in the way they would teach you in school. I never attended high school as it is not required where I come from since it costs money much like university does in other parts of the world, but as I’ve said, this is not something that I would say out loud for it is about me and I know what would happen if this came out. I would prefer not to be insulted as just a pretty face. That does not make me feel any better. Hell, I don’t even feel bad about not going to school, I just don’t want the pity of other people.
I also have these impulses that normally I tend to not ignore. When I feel a certain urge to do something, usually I let that urge guide me and I just do it. This could range from fixing a very simple pile of pencils in an OCD moment or slamming someone against the wall and throw my tongue down their throat. It… has a pretty wide spectrum and I normally don’t fight it.
That being saide, I can be kind of suggestive at times or even seductive at times without even trying. I have no shame so in my body so I would not mind walking around naked or being seen as naked as long as I as I do not look like s**t. ]
s e c r e t w i s h e s // [ Dreams? Goals? Aspirations…? No. I don’t have any. You know, I never think hard about that like some people and I really don’t care. What I’ve noticed is people that set high ‘goals’ for themselves always just get knocked back down the latter and become street-dwelling drunks from depression, so I’d rather not go through that, so I really don’t think about it. Maybe, maybe if I’m lucky someday travel to Los Vegas or New York in America and swindle the richer people or find a rich person to such up to and live with, but otherwise, what’s the point? ]
m y f a v o r i t e s w e e t s // [ Disorganization is a friend of mine. At least…. My own disorganization. Usually I know where everything is if I was the one to mess the place up, but if I wasn’t—then I’ll find out. I also like crowds. Where I’m from, the streets are packed and so was my house. I shared my bed with usually two other people—and my bed wasn’t that big to begin with. Loud noises usually accompany crowds, so I appreciate that as well. I tend to think more efficiently when I’m surrounded by noise and sometimes pressure.
Typically I like food because it’s harder to come by than some may realize. I’m not picky and I like just about anything. Just about, but that doesn’t mean I won’t eat it even if I don’t particularly like the taste. I also have a fancy for books. I can always find something knowledgeable within them and always take something, like a story, from whatever I read to relay later with twists of my own. It helps with inspiration, you know?
And I also have this thing for cats, I’ve never really liked dogs, but cats I could collect until I had them in my own weight and more. When it comes to music, I don’t particular hate it or anything, but there are ceritan things that I like and if it doesn’t meet hat criteria—It’s s**t to me.
One more thing; I like sleep. I could get 16 hours of sleep a day and be alert all the time if it would allow. Sleeping is my favorite pastime—aside from sex. Oh. That’s another thing, but I doubt I need to be telling you why I like it. To build from that, I also like heat and warm weather. How does that tie in? Bodies are warm.
So that was three. I lied. What’s the surprise there? ]
m y s o u r s // [ Silence and space—yes, it does make my mind run, yes, it does make my heart chase after it—the two go into this fifty-meter dash to see which can get there first whenever those surround me because frankly, I’m not used to it and it’s like petting an animal’s fur the wrong way. Something else that rubs my fur the wrong way, so to speak, is cold weather. I can’t stand it due to a number of nights that I’ve been through that were so cold you couldn’t fall asleep. Not that I complained, we all huddled together and some fell asleep and some didn’t—and some died. Beh.
I have a mixed like for idiots—I like them in that they are easier to trick, but when I am forced to spend my time around people I consider stupid, I get a tad bit on the grumpy side—or what I consider grumpy. I don’t care if you have a PHD from some fancy school, but if superficial knowledge is all you have and you can’t keep up, then I have nothing more to say to you than, “Would you like to play a game of guards for some cash?”. Usually, it’s easier to find these people because they often act like they are still in school wherever they go. Take a second to think about that to understand my meaning.
I don’t like being alone, even if it is sitting alone. I’ll do it, I’ve done it, it’s part of how I live, I just don’t prefer it. I’ll sit in a room and keep my mouth shut for one or more other people just to have the company—but never would I do it with someone I can’t stand. If you find yourself complaining inward in those types of situations, then you shouldn’t be there in the first place. ]
b e w a r e // [ Considering my circumstances, I always have a knife on my person or near my person, though that does not always do the trick—or I lose it. In either of these cases I will then use whatever I can as a weapon. You name it and I will attempt to. Shoes, pillows, tv remotes, fireplace thingies—I’ve even used my shirt before and it was pretty effective. Typically I’m a hand to hand fighter with like free style fighting. I never learned any ‘specific’ style, but I’ve picked up various different characteristics of a couple. ]
a p p r o a c h w i t h c a u t i o n // [ BS. My super power is bar to none. I’ve completely mastered the secret art of bullshitting. You might not find it that impressive, but really, who can talk and flat out lie and have it believed? Who can seriously make up a believable story on the spot and have it make sense? Hell, sometimes it doesn’t and it’s still believed, but if you want something more literal… I’m very quick on my feet and very athletic in a climbing, jumping, rolling kind of way. I can make for quick escapes and this is where my BSing skill comes in as it can distract easily before I… run away. ]
n e e d t o k n o w i n f o // [ I play the piano from the times I snuck into the music store. It’s not important. I don’t think I’m very good at it, but the important thing is I can play. I’m more flexible than your average male, and I don’t try to hide it. What’s the point? I have asthma, I speak Thai, English, and Mandarin, and my favorite color is green. ]
m y b e s t q u a l i t i e s // [ Gamblin’s the name of the game. Hustling I guess works too. My BSing ability helps out here because I can easily fool people that I have a shitty hand when I don’t or a winning hand when it’s quite the opposite. I’m good at slide of the hand and just about anything that comes with gambling games that makes it easier for me to win. Let’s not neglect that I learned how to pull off magic tricks from a friend of mine a while ago. Disappearing coins, transforming cards, rope tricks, I can do practically anything. ]
p u p p e t m a s t e r // [ Schone Krimi ]
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