Thread: Komatsu Rikaku
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Old 08-31-2006, 01:22 AM   #1
Hyuuga Kaito
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Default Komatsu Rikaku

[ 8 AP was used in the creation of this character. 5 for stats, 3 for jutsu. ]

Name: Komatsu Rikaku (Riku)
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Height: 5’10

Country/Village: Hi no Kuni/Konohagakure
Rank: Jounin
Division: Tai-i

Physical Description:

A young man of stature both literal and political, Rikaku bears the semblance of Leaf’s finest to a dot. A slender yet masculine body, with rustic eyes and grey hair are his qualities. Rikaku’s gaze is piercing, steely and formidable. His hair is lustrous yet natural, flowing freely from down his head. His skin is evenly toned throughout his entire body, as if light has never affected its hue. In all physical matters, he is ideal. Not a scar or any other mark disturbs his skin, and his good looks can even be called seductive.

His lean body and shape give him a much more youthful appearance than he really is. And though his height is just about average, he carries with him an air of dignity and respect. His movements are seldom wasted, moving with a grace that is both subtle and apparent at the same time. His footsteps are light and nimble. He moves almost like a ghost at times, swiftly and quietly even when it’s unnecessary.

Remaining expressionless at most engagements, he has conditioned himself to reveal as little as possible of his thoughts. Viewed as cold and calculating, a description that also fits him well enough, he shows others only that which he wishes them to see. And to all he is the embodiment of both sophistication and arrogance enforced through silence.


Dressed sparingly as shinobi are meant to, there are still certain distinctions between his attire and those of the jounin he hardly considers peers. His flak jacket has been custom-fitted and designed, a family pattern stitched across the sides flowing from shoulder to waist. A simple black shirt rests underneath it. A high collar devoid of the normal padding is where his jacket begins, continuing downward to his short sleeves with straps buckling them tightly to his arms, ending finally at the waist where it is tucked into his pants neatly. Much of the padding and excess pockets have been removed from the overall design of his jacket. This was meant for his comfort, not to mention efficiency.

His hands are usually wrapped in bandages, the sign of any taijutsu master and user. But overlapping these bandages are his gloves, the only things he wears which bear any sign of age or use. They, too, are strapped against his hands and are important to his style of choice.

At his pants we begin to see more deviation from the norm, though there are still obvious inspirations. Once more custom-fitted to his specific height, weight, and even style of movement, they fit firmly around his hips though not so much as to seem uncomfortable. A belt sits at the hem and is used to carry the pouches he does make use of. Three in all, they carry the various objects he might carry into battle as well as personal objects like mirror, letters, and pens. Also latched onto this belt are two daggers on his right hip. More ornamental than anything, these are ceremonial daggers which he uses sparingly and were presents to him from his grandfather. Usually, he doesn’t carry them with him on missions.

Aside from the description and portrait, Rikaku has been known to travel in a hooded cloak which bears the same colors as his garments throughout. It would be difficult to pinpoint and exact shade or color, but a mixture between dark grey and light brown would be the easiest way to describe it.


Mostly reserved, Rikaku is a difficult person to sum up in words. Intellectually and emotionally complicated, he would never let anyone know this of him. Born into a world and age that seemed not his own, he was conditioned to live and act a certain way since as far back as he can remember.

Being the son of a wealthy aristocrat within the Leaf bears certain obligations which he may or may not have appreciated, but to be the grandson of a Village Elder requires even more from him. Never allowed to live a normal childhood, his life was filled with duty. The way he was to act in front of company was taught to him very strictly. This included lessons on when and how to speak to people of different social standing, as well as knowing what exactly to say in any given situation.

Raised very much in isolation with very little interaction with people his age, he was taught privately by the most renowned tutors in Leaf. Needless to say, this stinted his social growth. Affected by this and the many arduous takings of his social rank, Rikaku has developed into a recluse of few words. When he does speak, however, it is either with respect or authority.

Unable to truly trust anyone regardless of who they are, he acts in the best interest of his ideals. These are, though, hardly easy to determine. At times he may act morally unjust and cruel to his victims, but at others he is compassionate and understanding. It isn’t easy to determine Rikaku’s feelings or thoughts at any given time since he has been raised to always seem indifferent. Even with his past ‘lovers’ he has been aloof and distant, unable to commit or even reciprocate their feelings.

If you were forced to sum up Rikaku in five words: ambitious, beguiling, cunning, detached, and patient.

Nindo; "Way of the Ninja": “For Konoha, I will do what is neccessary.“
Primary Archetype: Roots Operative: Tai-i
Secondary Archetype: Quiksilver

- Strength: 1 - 1 - 1 + 28 + 2 = 29 (+18)
- Speed: 1 + 1 + 2 + 20 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 30 (+25)
- Stamina: 1 + 1 + 17 = 20 (+18)
- Intelligence: 1 + 1 - 1 + 17 = 19
- Tactics: 1 + 1 + 18 = 20
- Willpower: 1 + 1 + 1 + 16 = 18
- Power: 1 - 1 - 1 + 2 + 15 = 16
- Control: 1 - 1 + 15 = 15
- Reserves: 1 + 1 + 12 = 14

Jutsus and Techniques:

Global Ninjutsu
- Henge no Jutsu (Stage 1/Nin)
- Kawarimi no Jutsu (Stage 1/Nin)
- Kinbori no Jutsu/Kabenobori no Jutsu (Stage 2/Nin)
- Kakushi Tsuushin (Stage 3/Nin;Roots Swap: replacing Nioi Ue Fuku no Jutsu)
- Kai (Stage 3/Nin; replacing Nioi Ue Fuku no Jutsu)
- Suimen Hokou no Gyou (Stage 3/Nin)
- Sentou Sengi (Stage 4/Nin; Roots Swap: replacing Saihen no Te)
- Doutai Ikiwataru Iisa (Stage 5/Nin;Roots Swap: replacing Soushuuha)

Global Genjutsu
- Bunshin no Jutsu (Stage 1/Gen)

- Stage 1
- Stage 2
- Stage 3
- Stage 4
- Stage 5
- Stage 6

- Stage 1://:Tenka
- Stage 2
- Stage 3://:Hanabi
- Stage 4
- Stage 5://:Shounetsu

Konohagakure Genjutsu
- Nirami no Kage (Stage 1)
- Dokuji no Gyoushi (Stage 2)
- Mingiru no Kage (Stage 3)
- Chingo son Gajou (Stage 4/Gen;Roots Swap: eplacing Boufuu no Jumon)
- Soushitsu (Stage 4/Gen;Roots Swap: replacing Aki no Hibiki)
- Meiryou no Hibiki (Stage 4)
- Aitou no Hibiki (Stage 4)
- Chousen no Hibiki (Stage 4)
- Chototsu (Stage 5)
- Narisumashi no Hotaru (Stage 5)

Konohagakure List - Katon Ninjutsu
- Katon: Ichi (Stage 1)
- Katon: Ni (Stage 2)


- Shuriken (2)
- Kunai (2)
- Strings (1)
- Explosive Tags (4)
- Smoke Bombs (2)
- Flash Bang (3)
- Wrist Blades (3)
- Elbow Blade (3)

- Genshi (20)

Weapon Points Remaining: 0
Additional Weapon Points Gained: 0


It may strike you as odd, my story. I’ve never told anyone it in its entirety, and no one but me can account for it in full. So bear with me as I go through the necessities that often come with storytelling. Cliché as they may be, I can’t find an easier way to relate to you a life as… complicated, as mine.

My first memory is that of when I was about three or four. I remember waking up and staring straight up at the mahogany ceiling. Slowly I rose without really realizing it. Rubbing my eyes I stood up and stretched reflexively, as if I’d done it a million times. Looking around I saw nothing but the traditional paper walls of any middle-class household. No shadows formed on their surface, only light. And in that moment was complete silence save for the birds chirping outside. It was peaceful.

What happened next came abruptly. The sharp sliding of a door, the solid footsteps of my then-unknown father, and the appearance of my graceful mother. She stood there with her head bowed down and her eyes closed, as if it pained her to see me. I did not contemplate it at the time, but even then she looked truly unhappy. My father, however, has not changed to this day. He wore a stern face and looked down at me with a sarcastic grin. This was my first memory and it echoes my life almost completely.

As the years passed I learned that my lineage was an important one. I was a son of the Komatsu, long-standing members of the political hierarchy of the Leaf. At the time these words did not resonate with me at all; they were just words. But as I grew older I was taught to realize their importance, to respect it. I was disciplined in every manner of social etiquette. How to walk, how to talk, how to seem. Even my breathing was criticized:

“Do not breathe so loudly in company! You sound like a whore with all that gasping!”

Too bad the shallow breathes came from my asthma. Funny, too, that I had inherited that weakness from my father.

Well anyways, like I said, I was taught in all walks of life. You see, in my family, to show any sign of weakness is punishable. Even sneezing! Can you believe that? One time I sneezed at the dinner table in front of guests and my father later whipped me three times. I still have the scars to prove it.

After those first few years of life, I began to lose sight of myself. And I don’t mean that in the philosophical sense. I was just literally becoming a drone. Every practice in life became a formula. Start things this way, end things that way. It was tedium after tedium, and yet I had grown accustom to it. By this time, though, my mother had begun to show interest in me.

My upbringing was largely the result of my father’s tyranny. He basically ruled every aspect of my life. He acted the same of my mother, but between the two of us we truly lived to be ourselves. At first she was too afraid of my father to even touch or talk to me in a way that might act contrary to his teachings. But the love of a mother for her child is more powerful than any fear.

She was the one who taught me the beauty in life. She taught me how to read and write. She taught me of art. My mother was my tutor in many things. But the most important thing she taught me was to pretend. Not only to pretend, though, but how to lie.

For as tender and caring as she was, sometimes even lowering herself to lend a hand to our servants here and there, she was also a master at masking her emotions and thoughts behind those more acceptable. Especially in front of my father I began to observe the deception more and more. When he touched her and kissed her she would give the look of the submissive wife, fooling him into thinking that she appreciated his attention. But I could see the passionate hate for him in her eyes.

Needless to say, this not only startled me, but intrigued me as well. My mother never lied to me of course, and vice versa, but through her I began to manipulate situations to my favor. As evil or reckless as this might at first seem, you have to remember that what I am now owes much to this sort of mentality. You may not think about it much, but most shinobi tactics rely on cunning far more than they do strength. And though I’m no slouch in that area, it doesn’t hurt to be a bit misleading in our line of work, right?

So yea, my mom was a great influence to me. And I take most of my looks from her, thank goodness. She was long and slender, a pale and timeless beauty. It seemed age took no hold of her and the years did nothing but increase her beauty. She was quite enchanting, really.

So now you have some idea of where I come from. Seems fairly simple, right? Well you’re in for some sort of surprise.

I don’t know if I mentioned it, but my grandfather was and still is a very high-ranking official within the Leaf. He served under the previous Hokage for a few years and serves the current one as well. Well the life of a shinobi was never a goal of mine. I was meant to be an ambassador of sorts for Konohagakure to the rest of the Fire Country. I was meant to be a political liaison, according to my father. Whatever that means.

Well my grandfather had other plans for me, it seemed. Asking my father to enroll me into the Academy was a shock in and of itself, but to then afford me a private jounin tutor was something else. My mother was quite torn by this sudden decision. She knew that my spirit was not meant for the trappings of politics, but she wasn’t sure if war and death were my deal either.

As it turns out, the rough and tough training of the Academy was just what I needed. Time away from my father, especially, but also to try and figure out the world for my own. I was grateful to my mother for everything she’d taught me, but by this point I was ready to have a little portion of my life to call my own. Between the mechanical lifestyle my father had set me onto and the freedom to express myself given by my mother, I was hard-pressed to find the middle ground for myself.

I didn’t excel at anything in particular, but I got pretty good marks. That wasn’t the point, though. I was doing something mostly on my own now, and my father had very little advice to give me here except for grunts and the occasional verbal lashing when I didn’t accomplish enough for him. It didn’t matter though, because at least my mother was happy for me.

Now by this point, I’d already been a genin for about a year already. My sensei had said that our little team wasn’t ready for the Chuunin exams, so I spent most of my time training. Anything to be away from home, really. But it was one day that changed things pretty suddenly for me again.

I came to the gate which opened out into our estate and the screams of my mother immediately caught my attention. Fresh from the field, I still had a good amount of equipment on me: kunai, shuriken, and my dagger. Well, as instinct would have it, my eyes were set to scout for my mother and immediately handle the threat that ailed her. What I didn’t know was that the damage had already been done, and I was only here to witness the aftermath.

Assassins. They’d come for my parents and had made quick work of them. What they hadn’t counted on, though, was my mother making it out the front door in her bloodied state. And with me now a witness, I was next on the list. Luckily for me, my mother’s desperate cry had gained the attention of my sensei who had been walking me home just moments prior.

It was over before I knew it and the next thing I knew it I was on the floor face down across from my mother. I was looking her straight in the eyes, watching the life waning from them slowly. I made every effort to drag myself to her side, to be with her before the inevitable. But you know, life sucks sometimes. The last thing she said to me, with death dragging her into his grip was, “Rikaku… live… a meaningful life.”

After that day, my grandfather took me in. He explained to me that mercenaries had been hired by a daimyo far off in the south of the Fire Country to take care of our prestigious family. They had been dispatched easily by our far superior shinobi and the worst had been avoided, but those words seemed hollow to me. ‘The worst… avoided’. Now, that was not the case at all.

The most precious thing to me had been taken without mercy. Noone will ever know the relationship my mother and I had. It was beyond words, beyond comprehension. Intuitively we felt each other’s happiness and sorrows. She was irreplaceable to me. If only I had been there for her.

I spent two more years as a genin after that. I’m not going to lie and say that those two years were easy on me in the least. I could not have felt the absence of my mother more prominently. But, moving on, my grandfather had requested for me a private session with some of the instructors of the Chuunin Exams and had them drill me. I was ‘awarded’ the rank of chuunin afterwards with nothing to really show for it. It was really just a bought title, but apparently it was enough to allow me some other privileges that my grandfather was once again happy to provide for.

Here’s where I get pretentious. Up till now nothing had really been special about me personally. I was your average, mid-grade shinobi. But apparently there’s this organization called Roots that is particularly skilled at turning out outstanding shinobi. And as luck would have it, I was brought into the organization under the blanket of my most esteemed grandfather.

I’m not technically allowed to tell you what my regimine entailed, or the places I visited, or about the people I met during those next five years, but I will tell you what it’s all made me: the encompassment of what it means to be a shinobi from Konohagakure. As far as organization standards go, I have surpassed them all. I am, even amongst Roots, their most successful project. And for what, you ask? Let me tell you.

I have come to the conclusion that my purpose in life has only been half realized. I have only ever been faintly aware of my existence. Half my life has been my father’s doing, half my mother’s. I have nothing to call my own. But now, after all my experiences with Roots, I now see what it is I was born to do. There is a dream I wish to see fulfilled, an ideal of unreal proportions.

Konoha is my home, but it is weak. I have no allusions of otherwise. It has been a disappointment to the shinobi world for far too long. I aim to rectify that sad truth. So it is my will and testament that I cannot rest till the day my fair country is once again restored to its glory. I am willing to do anything and everything for that goal. There is nothing and noone I wouldn’t sacrifice to reach this end. Any who oppose me, from outside or even within Konoha, will not live long to realize their mistake.

Other Info: be added later as the need arises

Writing Example:

..taken from a really old RP.

Garbed in only the holiest of black, a long and true cape folded down against him. Seated atop an ominous marble seat, throne-like in appearance, he rested his boots on top of a similarly placed altar just in front of him. The one they called Seta, Grandmaster of the Hidden Sound, was so obviously bored with his position at the moment. There had been nothing of note since his last mission, perhaps the failed initiation between now and then. And the reason for this failure was because the recruit was unable to live through the ritual, an occurrence that was becoming more and more common. Sighing inwardly, he let his arms lazily rest against the cold armrests to his sides. He leaned further into the seemingly uncomfortable and chilly seat, brooding more and more.

So far now, his plan to gain anymore footing within the Sound had come to a standstill. He somehow managed to keep his agenda away from the prying eyes of his peers, but he knew Kairi had seen through his charade. But what did that mean? If Kairi knew, as Seta almost knew full-well he did, then why hadn't he said anything to him yet? If his plan to take further control over the Cult and even the Courtship were to move along, he had to reserve every moment to that cause. And with his recent lethargy, his mind had slipped more and more into the possibility that this was it for him: his station was to remain the same.

Was he at the pinnacle of his power, the very zennith? Was he doomed to serve as Kairi's nth in command? Was he just another body with a predesposed role? He liked to figure that the answer to that was no, mostly because deep down he knew that he was capable of much more. He was ready to travel the depths of hell to become Kairi's right hand, to act only in his name and for noone else. As is, he was taking commands not only from Kairi but from four others. The Grandmagisters and Magisters ruled almost every aspect of Seta's life, and he was inclined to believe it was them who choose to keep him in this state of inactivity.

He knew that if he performed as well as he could, his favor with their dear lord and sire would rise. This wouldn't bode well with anyone in the Sound, really. If only anyone but Kairi knew of his true form... And just how long had it been since Seta last spoke with Kairi in private? Was it that day, the day when he first realized his potential? Yes... and that was so long ago too. Direct contact with him was scarce, at least for someone in Seta's position. He needed more privelage and there was but only one route to that end. Death.

His brow creased in thought, his steely grey eyes resting peacefully on the black marble beset around him. Within the sanction of the Cult, within the silence, he let his mind wander.

Mission Log
- Fishing in Sougen: +2 Speed, Kakushi Tsuuchin.
- Scratch: +2 Speed, Sentou Sengi.
- Welcome to the Jungle: +2 Strength, +1 Stamina, Doutai Ikiwataru Iisa.
- A Short Reprieve: +1 Strength, Stage 2 Ryuujin-fu
- Added Kai, Stage 3 Ryuujin-fu, and Hanabi using 3AP
- 16/05/08 - Added Genshi to profile.
- 05/08/08 - [ANBU] Hide and Seek - +2 Strength, +1 Tactics, Stage 6 Gouken-fu, Stage 4 Ryuujin-fu, and Katon: Ichi.
- 25/01/09 - [Roots] Silence is the True Friend Who Never Betrays - +2 Reserves, Stage 5 Ryuujin-fu, Shounetsu (1AP)
- 17/04/09 - Roots [Taxonomy] - +2 Speed, Aitou no Hibiki
- 05-05-09 - Roots [The Secrets of Ambition] - +2 Strength, Katon: Ni

Swaps // Items

Last edited by Hyuuga Kaito; 05-05-2009 at 03:35 PM..
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