Mardochée Igins se tenait devant l'Académie Shinjuku, orné de son nouvel uniforme d'écoles et de son grand sac de voyage sous son bras droit "... C'est l'Académie Shinjuku, hein." son expression sans émotion qu'il portait toujours à l'heure actuelle. son bleu bleu balancé dans le vent alors qu'il a doucement pris les premiers pas dans l'académie, où pour les 3 deux de l'année, il hausse ses compétences en arts martiaux et, espérons-le, prendre de nouveaux styles de combat le long du chemin. Il était l'autre nouveau-né en chemin, mais n'a pas eu la peine de leur parler pour même les reconnaître. Les Kuudere errèrent dans l'académie sans entrer en contact avec qui que ce soit. Surtout pour la raison.
Il ne savait pas parler japonais, quiconque essaierait de lui parler n'aurait qu'à les regarder. Bien sûr, sa mère, étant japonaise à part entière, lui avait donné un cahier sur la façon de se comporter au pays du soleil levant, avec quelques phrases. dans son autre main libre était une note à tous les étudiants de se rencontrer dans la salle pour la cérémonie d'ouverture. "Ce devrait être facile, d'abord trouver le répertoire et ensuite faire mon chemin là." Il a murmuré. Le garçon poilu bleu a causalement fait son chemin à l'intérieur avant de voir une grande planche avec différentes formes de construction et légendes..trouble était. Tout était en japonais. "Pour l'amour de Dieu...", il plaça sa tête contre la planche comme maudite. alors qu'il regardait de nouveau vers le haut, il vit un petit départ sur le dessus d'un bâtiment. "Je vais prendre des risques et aller là-bas." Alors qu'il parlait à lui-même, il entendit plusieurs cris à sa droite. Il a repéré une fille fuyant d'autres étudiants.
"......" s'accrochant à lui-même, il est allé de l'autre côté. Il essaierait d'éviter autant de contacts que possible.
Name: Farley Scary
Age: 17
Height: 6'3 ft
Weight: 175 lbs
Year: Freshman
Personality: In short, exactly the kind of person you'd expect to bring a knife to a fistfight. Scary isn't the kind of guy that values "fair-play" and "an honest day's work" and will do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. That said, he is far from heartless and would sooner die than betray a friend. In the end, he'll probably reluctantly stand up for his morals... whatever they are.
Fighting Style: Scary lives for cheap shots. At the start of a confrontation, one can reasonably assume that he has a small police-station's supply of weaponry on his person. Every fight is a battle between his flash showman's instincts and the tacit knowledge that the powers that be would be less than thrilled at the prospect of a contestant pulling a butterfly knife out of his shoe mid-fight. Cheap shots are the name of his game 9 times out of 10, though he's not above just tranqing them from halfway across the field if he thinks he can get away with it. Even without sneaking something into the ring, Scary is still better off confusing and distracting his opponents than facing them head on.
Martial Arts: A sort of bastardized ninjutsu, with a slight Fencing edge in the hidden blade department and a working knowledge of basic modern military hand to hand if the need arises.
History: A military brat, Farley Scary was born and raised in Melbourne, Australia. From day one, he held his father on a pedastle, a symbol of bravery. After all, the old man had the courage to enter the UK Special Forces! Much as Farley loved the thrill of combat however, he knew he'd rather have the glory and money of arena combat than a career on the front. That in mind, he developed a flashy (not to mention possibly cheating-oriented) set of moves and left for the academy (despite both parents encouraging him to pursue any other career).
Dreams and Fears:
In a lot of ways, Farley is a simple man. He wants money. He wants fame. He wants friends, even if his rather prickly demeanor would indicate otherwise. Given that his entire life thus far has been learning a style that allows his wits and dexterity to overcome his wiry frame and lack of stamina. He wants to be the very best, but only if doing so gets him cash and an expensive engraved trophy.
He resents being called a cheater, seeing his use of pepper spray, rubber bullets and shoe blades as a way of compensating for his stamina (which, as previously mentioned, is laughable), as legitimate as any other fighting style. Or at least, that's the defense he uses. How much of it he actually believes is up for debate.
He is also deathly afraid of beetles.