Post by Celmaru Waterfield on Apr 11, 2019 18:52:19 GMT
Character Name:
Celmaru Waterfield
Gender:
Male
Starting Planet:
Earth
Race:
Human-Saiyan Hybrid
Racial Traits:
Warrior’s Pride
Zenkai
The Tail of a Saiyan
Intelligence
Transformation Path:
SSJ4
Date of Birth:
Age 977
Age:
24
Fighting Style:
Balanced
Appearance:
History:
Celmaru was born during an exceedingly quiet Age. Among numerous mundane days, not one stood out. However, there was something missing. A Father. The origin of the hybrid’s other half had made himself scarce. Too scarce, it seems. At the age of four -- several, relatively innocent inquiries later, it was revealed that his father was a man of fighting. Enough of one to leave his family behind, in fact. The explanation that his mother provided, eventually, prompted the child to shuffle his way to the nearest windowsill. The child stared, waited; waiting for a long-gone parent to return. Unfortunately for the hybrid child, his Saiyan parent wasn’t particularly responsible.
Eight years later, several pods plunged themselves into the ocean. Betwixt the evident pairs of pods, one vanished in a boisterous puff of smoke. Briefly abandoning his comrades for his short-term goal, the child’s father brought himself to return. Earth never seemed like an interesting place, especially when there was some kid he had to care for around. Regardless, for Celmaru, it was a joyous day. However, it wasn’t yet a full hour before his home was invaded by strangers. The living room was filled, the kitchen was brimming with aliens, the foyer was crammed with noisy, hairy men. Celmaru didn’t appreciate one bit, particularly since one of them was drinking out of the flower vase! In a fit, the hybrid kicked and screamed at as many knees as he could; wading throughout his home as he went. Highly-pitched squeals of a child wanting to see his father pierced many ears, many others snickering.
It was merely a matter of time before Celmaru found his father among the crowd. Sat upon a stool, there he was. And as swiftly as he was found, his own child was dismissed. Albeit, it wasn’t too harshly, yet it stung nonetheless. Being told to go play with some alien -- with it all still stinging -- the child begrudgingly stumbled over to the alien previously mentioned. Oddly enough, it was amiable! It had a tail too, it must’ve been able to relate! Or vice versa; Celmaru wasn’t bothered which. It had some neat jewel-looking bits all over itself, too. Was it fun? Their play, in fact, was relatively lackluster. Arm wrestling, grappling, staring contests, and “beer pong” (with the alien drinking instead). In a word, the day was progressing to “unfortunate”. It was only destined to worsen, however.
With an untamed swipe of a slippery tail, Celmaru could only see streaks of red around his left eye. The pain came a moment later. It burned, it throbbed. Tears blurred the child’s vision even further. Celmaru had been struck; his left eye cut by an alien’s appendage. Blood and tears intermingled and trickled along the child’s facial features. The wailing, along with a curled up positioning, left Celmaru at the center of attention. Bickering followed, stomping, questioning. A window shattered -- for whatever reason. The child’s father appeared, along with his mother. The latter was furious, and the former clutching his kin. The crowd cleared, and Celmaru’s face was marred by a bloody christening. That afternoon was one of lacking depth perception and disappointment.
Time drudged onward after that incident. The child’s father was deemed a “poor influence”; one poor enough to be removed from his son’s life. Celmaru’s parents said naught but a few words before leaving for the morning; only his mother returned. A sole space pod rose into the atmosphere, unlikely to be seen around Earth for a lengthy extent of time. A divorce was finalized. To Celmaru, it was yet another time-span that was to be spent without his father. Regardless, he had the rest of his life to handle -- with or without his old man.
Elementary school ended, and a horrendous junior high passed as terribly as possible. Puberty was a curse among Celmaru Waterfields. Truly a gnarly, unintelligible mess of a curse. Many anxieties and discomforts arose, each with their own arc of plaguing the child’s mind. In the end, Celmaru would rather forget it all -- more so when transitioning into high school. Albeit, a collection of books kept him sane; a series of informative novels rummaging through the nitty-gritty of the universe. In plain English, no less! As hopeful for this one series as the hybrid was, he knew that he had no chances of meeting the original author. That nice elderly man from a local bookstore seemed just as enamored with them, though. Nevertheless, time marched on, his (what essentially boiled down to) tomes safely packed at home; a safer place.
Moreover: high school, like the others before it, was horrendously straightforward, yet exceedingly tedious. Experiencing frequent stares from a facial scar hardly assisted any joys regarding education. Yet, someone gave the child the time of day. Orange Star High School was an institution filled to the brim with snarky teenagers and stubborn instructors. Most wouldn’t bother with a monkey trying to get their education, right? What nonsense it would be otherwise, on top of this silly facial scar. Utter nonsense -- if a stranger wasn’t attempting to speak with him. This stranger, however, seemed intent on acquiring his attention.
That, and they were humanoid, yet green.
Green, female, and claiming to be ancient. Yeah, sure, fine. This stranger was fully intent on getting familiar, among other things. With many romantic cliches fulfilled, numerous improper conducts enacted, and one graduation later:
Marriage.
To some, this is the penultimate nightmare. To others, this is spite. To even more nondescript “others”, this is positively unorthodox. And yet, this would forever be Celmaru’s utmost favored moment. Not a fight in sight, not a crisis to be found. It was a moment of monumental bliss; lost in the eyes of a wily, teasing fox. Its endearing, at least to this lone hybrid. Several more years pass, with many milestones coming, going, and ever more to remain. Moved out, with a family, and without a job; the child’s next goal was in sight. Be it with his provided gifts or not -- this will be yet another adventure.
...Did you want a grander, open ending to the history? That’s for another time. This documentation isn’t finished yet, not until this lifespan breathes its last.
Personality:
Starting Techniques:
Celmaru Waterfield
Gender:
Male
Starting Planet:
Earth
Race:
Human-Saiyan Hybrid
Racial Traits:
Warrior’s Pride
Zenkai
The Tail of a Saiyan
Intelligence
Transformation Path:
SSJ4
Date of Birth:
Age 977
Age:
24
Fighting Style:
Balanced
Appearance:
History:
Celmaru was born during an exceedingly quiet Age. Among numerous mundane days, not one stood out. However, there was something missing. A Father. The origin of the hybrid’s other half had made himself scarce. Too scarce, it seems. At the age of four -- several, relatively innocent inquiries later, it was revealed that his father was a man of fighting. Enough of one to leave his family behind, in fact. The explanation that his mother provided, eventually, prompted the child to shuffle his way to the nearest windowsill. The child stared, waited; waiting for a long-gone parent to return. Unfortunately for the hybrid child, his Saiyan parent wasn’t particularly responsible.
Eight years later, several pods plunged themselves into the ocean. Betwixt the evident pairs of pods, one vanished in a boisterous puff of smoke. Briefly abandoning his comrades for his short-term goal, the child’s father brought himself to return. Earth never seemed like an interesting place, especially when there was some kid he had to care for around. Regardless, for Celmaru, it was a joyous day. However, it wasn’t yet a full hour before his home was invaded by strangers. The living room was filled, the kitchen was brimming with aliens, the foyer was crammed with noisy, hairy men. Celmaru didn’t appreciate one bit, particularly since one of them was drinking out of the flower vase! In a fit, the hybrid kicked and screamed at as many knees as he could; wading throughout his home as he went. Highly-pitched squeals of a child wanting to see his father pierced many ears, many others snickering.
It was merely a matter of time before Celmaru found his father among the crowd. Sat upon a stool, there he was. And as swiftly as he was found, his own child was dismissed. Albeit, it wasn’t too harshly, yet it stung nonetheless. Being told to go play with some alien -- with it all still stinging -- the child begrudgingly stumbled over to the alien previously mentioned. Oddly enough, it was amiable! It had a tail too, it must’ve been able to relate! Or vice versa; Celmaru wasn’t bothered which. It had some neat jewel-looking bits all over itself, too. Was it fun? Their play, in fact, was relatively lackluster. Arm wrestling, grappling, staring contests, and “beer pong” (with the alien drinking instead). In a word, the day was progressing to “unfortunate”. It was only destined to worsen, however.
With an untamed swipe of a slippery tail, Celmaru could only see streaks of red around his left eye. The pain came a moment later. It burned, it throbbed. Tears blurred the child’s vision even further. Celmaru had been struck; his left eye cut by an alien’s appendage. Blood and tears intermingled and trickled along the child’s facial features. The wailing, along with a curled up positioning, left Celmaru at the center of attention. Bickering followed, stomping, questioning. A window shattered -- for whatever reason. The child’s father appeared, along with his mother. The latter was furious, and the former clutching his kin. The crowd cleared, and Celmaru’s face was marred by a bloody christening. That afternoon was one of lacking depth perception and disappointment.
Time drudged onward after that incident. The child’s father was deemed a “poor influence”; one poor enough to be removed from his son’s life. Celmaru’s parents said naught but a few words before leaving for the morning; only his mother returned. A sole space pod rose into the atmosphere, unlikely to be seen around Earth for a lengthy extent of time. A divorce was finalized. To Celmaru, it was yet another time-span that was to be spent without his father. Regardless, he had the rest of his life to handle -- with or without his old man.
Elementary school ended, and a horrendous junior high passed as terribly as possible. Puberty was a curse among Celmaru Waterfields. Truly a gnarly, unintelligible mess of a curse. Many anxieties and discomforts arose, each with their own arc of plaguing the child’s mind. In the end, Celmaru would rather forget it all -- more so when transitioning into high school. Albeit, a collection of books kept him sane; a series of informative novels rummaging through the nitty-gritty of the universe. In plain English, no less! As hopeful for this one series as the hybrid was, he knew that he had no chances of meeting the original author. That nice elderly man from a local bookstore seemed just as enamored with them, though. Nevertheless, time marched on, his (what essentially boiled down to) tomes safely packed at home; a safer place.
Moreover: high school, like the others before it, was horrendously straightforward, yet exceedingly tedious. Experiencing frequent stares from a facial scar hardly assisted any joys regarding education. Yet, someone gave the child the time of day. Orange Star High School was an institution filled to the brim with snarky teenagers and stubborn instructors. Most wouldn’t bother with a monkey trying to get their education, right? What nonsense it would be otherwise, on top of this silly facial scar. Utter nonsense -- if a stranger wasn’t attempting to speak with him. This stranger, however, seemed intent on acquiring his attention.
That, and they were humanoid, yet green.
Green, female, and claiming to be ancient. Yeah, sure, fine. This stranger was fully intent on getting familiar, among other things. With many romantic cliches fulfilled, numerous improper conducts enacted, and one graduation later:
Marriage.
To some, this is the penultimate nightmare. To others, this is spite. To even more nondescript “others”, this is positively unorthodox. And yet, this would forever be Celmaru’s utmost favored moment. Not a fight in sight, not a crisis to be found. It was a moment of monumental bliss; lost in the eyes of a wily, teasing fox. Its endearing, at least to this lone hybrid. Several more years pass, with many milestones coming, going, and ever more to remain. Moved out, with a family, and without a job; the child’s next goal was in sight. Be it with his provided gifts or not -- this will be yet another adventure.
...Did you want a grander, open ending to the history? That’s for another time. This documentation isn’t finished yet, not until this lifespan breathes its last.
Personality:
- Celmaru is insecure, yet defiant.
- Celmaru is aggressive, and holds a short fuse.
- Celmaru bears no immediate ill will to anyone, but can create any to fester and boil at a moment’s notice.
- Celmaru is prone to crying, albeit not within a typical day.
- Celmaru defends what he holds dear at all costs, including friends and family.
- Celmaru risks himself in any battle, any situation, and any moment. This is for his own progress and/or his family. A minuscule voice in the back of his mind states otherwise.
- Celmaru will blame himself before anyone, perhaps even those at fault.
- Celmaru wouldn’t hesitate, if assured. Often times: he isn't outside of battle.
- Celmaru may trust blindly, especially for family.
- Celmaru must become stronger...for a plethora of reasons.
- Celmaru is susceptible to fits (of any sort).
- Celmaru isn’t a fan of ceiling fans.
Starting Techniques:
[ST1] Flight - By concentrating your energy in your body, you are able to slowly float upwards into the sky and if this was indoors, get mauled by ceiling fans... again.
[ST1] Ki Sense - Using the strength of a trained mind, the user is able to grasp energy in the surrounding areas and figure out the power of an opponent via a gripping sense of dread.
[BT1] Great Blast Crash - By allotting energy above an upward-facing palm, a meager, red-and-white sphere shall appear. Can be thrown or used as a physical technique from within the fist. Inflicts between 1%-50% of Celmaru’s power in damage.
[ST1] Zanzoken - A rapid movement creates Celmaru’s still visage for a brief moment; doesn’t move.
[ST1] Ki Armament - The ability to manifest pieces of clothing, armor and weapons from your Ki. "Weapons" created through this technique are for flavor at this stage. "Armor" has the capability to reduce damage by 10%. Will glow in the dark.
[GUT1] Grand Shark Axe - Celmaru raises his arm to the skies as a bolt of "lightning" impacts with his arm, manifesting a massive axe that he may throw forwards as it morphs into an electrical sharkthat chases after the opponent. Deals 1%-50% of Celmaru's power in damage.
[AT1] Ar-Madness - Manifesting "electricity" at Celmaru's palm and slowly pulling it outwards with his other hand, he can manifest an elongated axe to strike the opponent with. If he already has an axe on him, he can use that to shorten the list of steps (by not using this technique at all). Utilizes 1%-50% of Celmaru's power in damage on contact. May remove limbs if/when applicable.
[ST1] Tail Weakness - The ability to completely cripple a man; a monkey man. Grab the tail and the monkey man goes down. As simple as can be. This weakness can be trained away.
Example Roleplay:
Its startling how strangely this life has gone over thus far. A hybrid sat atop a porch, supervising a pair of delinquent children. Such “delinquents” were a painstaking handful, and Celmaru couldn’t adore them more. Despite this, their natural strengths were overwhelming; it was enough to wound their old man. As likely as it was that they were both gifted in some respect, as the hybrid hoped, it wasn’t in the way Celmaru imagined. His very own kin, his first bundle of maniacal munchkins -- were nearly as powerful as he was. Celmaru wasn’t one to favor fighting -- as much as some others, that is -- yet this was nigh-insulting. Those two were just barely five years old! The hybrid’s brows sank, furrowing at their tips. Arms folded as the grumbling was feebly fought back. A brief mumbling escaped him. Meanwhile, a particularly lovely individual was soon to make her appearance. The one and only Mrs. Waterfield: Phae. A set of fingers snaked through a mat of wild, eagerly spiked brown hair. The hybrid responded through a sudden lurch forward.
“I see someone was a grouchy~ boy~!”
“And I see that you still work your magic.”
“But of course, husband!”
A bewildering squeal erupted from the nearby yard. The ancient being slid her gaze onward, peering at the silliest oddities she ever spawned. Two rascals, play-fighting and sprinting about aimlessly: Cynthia and Melia. They’re a mix of things, albeit one thing’s for sure; they have enough energy to supply the Earth! Celmaru, forgoing his previous bitterness, patted at his forever dearest, gesturing her to sit. He sighed a light, endeared breath. It was if he was hopelessly smitten with what he’s gotten. Not one day could be more joyous than this. A bright, sunny mid-morning spring day -- clouds blotted the sky some, trees surrounded their yard; all was picturesque and wonderful. Phae, however, peeked at her husband’s inane expression. It took all she could to stifle laughter. It was simply too adorable for a grown man to seem like this. A dainty palm reached the man’s shoulder, tapping gently upon it.
“Hm?”
The hybrid’s gaze hadn’t shifted an inch.
“I had found an item of interest...well, whilst I was conducting some spring cleaning.”
“What would it be?”
Melia, the smaller of the two children, leaped over her sister.
“Just an aged portion of parchment, is all.”
Cynthia, the most energetic between the two, attempted to flip over her sibling.
“Nothing too distressing, I take it?”
“Oh, nothing. Just a bit of a journal entry.”
Celmaru felt his face flush. That, perhaps, wasn’t what he thought it was? Perhaps it was. Sweet Kami on Earth, please let it not be so. The hybrid’s gaze lagged behind his own head, eventually peering upon what his wife spoke of. Torn by the punctured rings of paper, a journal entry gushed on and on of one subject. Of course, it was of his to-be dearest wife. High school. A haphazard, yet violent gust took Phae by surprise as the paper was torn from her digits. The utmost minuscule scraps remained, yet the majority was in Celmaru’s hands. A curt response followed.
“Let’s just ignore this, shall we?”
“Oh my, no! Husband! Let us reminisce together~!”
“No. No, no, no. I will thank you kindly to ignore this; forever.”
Celmaru shut his eyelids as he inhaled, returning his vision as he breathed an elongated exhale. There was...incriminating sentences upon that fragment of lined paper. Words the hybrid was sure that would never reach the light of day. He tore it from his documents himself; the place of tearing confirmed it! Frantic fingers folded the paper into fourths, stuffing it into his right front pocket. Celmaru folded his arms once again, keeping a palm aloft before his now-damning pocket. In the meantime, Phae couldn’t leave herself irritable by that; it was simply amusing to her. It was all the more as to why she pursued him just a handful of years ago. Even more to how grateful she is for this opportunity, in addition. However, that’s a topic for another time.
The two siblings, meanwhile, were stumbling over one another. They were brandishing imaginary weapons and spewing false energy beams. Such a much simpler time they were experiencing. Celmaru gave a single chuckle to himself -- remembering how messy his long-lost self was. Violent, boisterous...annoying. Going after one street brawl after another, solely due to an ancient, ridiculous wound. Middle school was terrible. Celmaru’s expression shifted, scowling at his younger self. And yet, it swiftly reset, albeit into a more neutral visage. That was then. As easily as it still is to remember the past, mull over it, mocking himself all the way home; it’s still out of his control now. However, as if he could never learn his lesson, he thought to himself, “Perhaps I should’ve taken a moment to step back and look around me. Just for a minute. Perhaps then I could’ve seemed less...toxic.”.