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[b]And you know what that bastard did? The ****** shot him, right in front of my god damn eyes.[/b]

[I]Woah, what a story?[/I]

[b]Yeah it is, isn?t it. There, he left me with no family, and I was stuck to bring myself up.[/b]


[b]You bet my *** that it was?I was only 10 at the time[/b]


?NO! Please don?t? my mother screamed, she ran up to the man, hitting his back softly, effecting him none, she began to cry. The panting of a dog vibrated around the room, finally a gun shot ended it, I screamed out, but there was so much commotion going on that no-one heard. I sighed from relief.

?Kill him?now? said a deep voice, a tear drop fell from my eye, hitting the wooden floor with a thud, swinging noises could be heard, and more grunting, they must be after my father. But I can?t stop it, I can?t do anything to stop them.

Finally the swishing noises finished, and a loud thud, the bed bounced slightly, and I hid behind the wardrobe, keeping me away from the violence. And I can see his face, looking over at me now, but I can?t go out, my mother told me to stay here until everything was quiet. Blood was dripping down his face, eyes crying out for help, but sill telling me to stop and stay.

I can?t bear it much longer, the pain, the hurt, what am I to do, apart from turn around and sob to myself, hidden from the chaos, only slight gaps. Sitting on my own, behind the barrier of wood and metal, protected in one way, but hurting in every other.

The sound of a gun, it?s being loaded, and cocked, it?s so loud. But not, it?s quiet, apart from sobbing noises, I can?t go out yet, I just can?t, it?ll be over soon?

--End Flashback--


[b]Damn right, grown up on my own ever since?well not entirely true[/b]

[I]Not entirely?[/I]

[b]Yeah, Vince came into my life?great guy, shame I was made to kill him[/b]

[I]Had to kill him?[/I]

[b]He was my last target before I got out[/b]

[I]Got out of what?[/I]

[b]Let me tell you then, give me a chance, christ[/b]


?Now, this guy has taken our stocks, he?s our target, and he leads the Tokyo Underworld, do you think you can take him??
The answer was obvious, if anyone of them showed the slightest hint of fear, or worry then they were exiled from the group, soon killed by a fellow member later.

?Now *** you and Vince have history, can you take him??

--End Flashback--

[b]I laughed and gave a nod, my mind was straining to shout out and confess to the group of what I had done, what I was planning to do, but I couldn?t, so I stayed quiet. Then killed Vince?s sorry ***, a job?s a job, and when I got paid I was on the last flight that night from Tokyo to Melbourne.[/b]

[I]So, they came after you?[/I]

[b]Yeah, the bastard came after me, and I was ready, with my ?own? little group, they all had there personal piffs with his little ?Assassination Squad? the bastard got more than he bargained for[/b]

[I]Please tell[/I]

Kill Game is a role-play based off the film Kill Bill, based in the not so distant future, where our weapons now are weapons then. And it will show the story of a group of assassins who hate one man, and there want to kill him, and his group of professional killers.

The man (who?s name has to be decided) ordered his group to kill a good friend of one of the killers, she did just that, and ran from the man, growing a burning hate for him, and deciding something should be done about him. Thus she created her own group, whom she named the ?Black Vipers? armed to the teeth with Japanese steel.

This RP will contain the Black Vipers who plan on the assasination of the man, and his group, named ?The Tokyo Elite?. It?ll be down to the players to who prevails in this battle, I?m not going to push into a definite ending. The man and The Tokyo Elite can win, or the Black Vipers, it?s your call. Choose your role, and play it well.

And to all of those who have seen this before; that is because the original poster of this RP is Sean who left the OB not long back; but has decided to return under the title of Perfection.

And for the sign-up. What can I say, this will be a normal sign-up, but I have to beg you for it too be extremely detailed, I don?t know how many sign-ups I?ll get, but I want to be able to know your character, know the way the feel in situations. And most of all I want to pick it, if it?s detailed, I will want to pick it, simple as that. But I?ll get on with putting up the sign-up sheet.

Name: You can keep your name private, and reveal it later on, if you wish.

AKA: Your ?nickname?, what you?re name is when working.

Age: 21+

Gender: Whoo! Anything you want, Male/Female/ It? Whatever.

Appearance: A drawing/photo/.etc


Biography: Your characters life up to meeting the girl, or your life working with the man.

Weapon: Anything will do, as long as it?s a melee weapon.

Alliance: Who you team with - Black Vipers/Tokyo Elite

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Name: Sercali Hellein

AKA: Saturnine

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance: Dyed red hair, asian skin, complete with utter paleness and a resistance to tan. Generally Korean face with long limbs and heavily tilted eyes. Typically, she wears brightly coloured lingerie, covered by a ragged black top, artfully torn or tied with thongs. Jeans are her pants of choice, usually woven with lycra or spandex for extra flexibility; her favorite brand being Wet Seal. Her wrists and fingers are usually wrapped in preperation for a job, then covered over with fingerless gloves.

Personality: Harsh and abrasive, brash, and demanding of others, Sercali isn't given to kindness, friendship, or anything remotely close to gentle compassion. Equally, her honor is a cold and abstract thing, difficult for others to understand, but never wavering. She refuses to take a job unless it involves a fair fight. However the definition of fair in Sercali's mind is about as abstract as her definition of honor, so people would generally do well to not cross her.


Sercali's life has been a series of simple events, going from one job to the other, and eventually working for the Trin Five in a loose and freelance style, taking jobs when she pleased and turning them down just as often as she took them. That she could have some other role in life, besides slaying her enemies with bare hands or cold steel had never occured to her. The Trin Five, a racketeering gangster like company, replete with scoundrels, murderers, and thugs under the guise of world leaders, had plenty of use for an assasin like Hellein, finding her "take no prisoners" and "kill as kill can," style to be extremely useful for both intimidation and cleaning up.

The job of dealing with insubordinates often fell to her, as punishing them was a joy to her, feeding her sick needs, which ranged from sadomasochism, to the desire for power, however fleeting it was. Of course she knew this job wouldn't last forever...but she would last longer than the Trin Five. In the risky and generally unstable world of racketeering and illegal arms trafficking, she knew she had plenty of her own to keep her going. The jobs she did paid well, in favors, in material posessions, and in hard cash. She preferred pounds sterling herself, but would accept most other forms of currency, with the gross exception of the Euro for personal reasons. This quirk endeared her to the leaders of the Trin Five, but most likely wouldn't keep her alive in other organizations. But that didn't matter to the Five. What mattered most is that when it came to messy, bloody deaths, no freelance assassin could take contest with Hellein. This reputation, while deserved, didn't make Sercali happy.

"Why would it? I rip people's chest's open. Where's the pleasure in that?"

Well there was lots of pleasure, but Sercali never would admit that out loud, and she certainly wouldn't admit it to her bosses, even if they sensed it. Either way that was Sercali Hellein. Psychotic murderer when paid to do it, fistfighter, assasin for hire, and everything else inbetween.

Weapons: Fighting gloves, reinforced with metal studs, occasionally switched for brass knuckles or throwing knives. However her specialty remains in hand to hand combat.

Alliance: Black Vipers

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[SIZE=1] [COLOR=#ff0000][B]Name:[/B] Unknown

[B]AKA:[/B] Goes by the alias Kage (shadow)

[B]Age[/B]: 27

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B] [Please refer to attachment]

[B]Personality:[/B] Kage, as his name suggests, is a man people rarely notice. Despite his looks and unique fashion sense, he somehow manages to blend in with the crowd in almost all occasions. He?s excellent for assassinations because of this and no one to date is aware of his real identity, except for a name. He likes to change things up a lot, constantly revamping his style and weapon choice. He does, however, always keep two things the same: his steely determination and cold demeanour. He isn?t in this job to make friends and is adamant that being a highly trained killer isn?t a profession that requires a large network of friends, just allies. He?s extremely intelligent and a good judge of people, but tends to make enemies easily because of how distant he can be. Despite his usually calm attitude, he?s prone to violent outbursts if someone pushes him a step too far.

[B]Biography:[/B] Kage sat down at his desk, his flat dark in these early hours of the morning. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, his glasses lying at an arms length away under the soft light of his desk lamp. The young man ran a hand through his hair before reaching out for a Dictaphone, pushing the Play button down with a click before he started talking, his voice hollow, still with a hint of his near-lost Japanese accent.

[B]?This is for anyone who cares to know about me, if I so happen to die in the days to come. My story is an interesting one, I suppose, and everything that has happened in the last few years is surely going to come out some time. I suppose it?s my duty to help the policemen who work so hard.? [/B] He paused and looked out of his window at the expansive night sky, not blocked by clouds or mist on this summer night.

[B]?My alliance with The Man, as many refer to him as, started only four years ago. I was bored and naïve, and needed some kind of tension release that didn?t involve drugs or sex. Those things just don?t appeal to me, not because of the danger, but because of the absolute emptiness one feels after coming down from the high. I suppose most people would rather take drugs to killing any day, but I?m not like most people?anyone involved with The Man is quite far from normal.

?He was friendly when we first got involved and came to me one night, seeming to know more about me than any of my so called friends. I was shocked, of course, but intrigued and agreed to have a meeting with him about an ?exciting proposition?. He explained everything I?d possibly need to know and I suppose one might have described me as ?hooked?. I needed to know more, I realised, not just about him but his life-style. I agreed to become one of his men, to help see his cause through to the end by any means possible. I felt above the law, and in some ways, I still do, and the rush of a fight is something I could never tire of.

?Of course I was scared at first, I can?t imagine who wouldn?t be, but his encouraging words and praise drove me on. I guess he was someone I could look up to, and after growing up with an alcoholic for a father, that was something new for me. I wanted to help this man, and I wanted to make him happy. Coming home soaked with another man?s blood didn?t, and still doesn?t, faze me.

?I suppose anyone sane enough listening to this now will think it?s a pretty sick story, but unless you?ve done it, you honestly can?t believe the unreal satisfaction that comes with hearing the dull thud of a corpse hitting the ground and the spray of warm blood on your skin. I suppose it?s a matter of taste, really.?[/B]

Kage flicked off the recorder and set it down, leaving it there as a constant reminder of his mortality. He picked up his glasses shortly after and strode back into his bedroom, getting ready once again for the only job he?d ever loved.

[B]Weapon:[/B] Kage is an unconventional man and prefers to use weapons that people won?t expect to come up against, for example, meat cleavers. He is, however, well known for using a [URL=http://knifedealer.net/becker-knife-tool/BK6-patrol-machete.jpg]machete [/URL] and is feared by many who?ve heard the gruesome rumours of his skill with it. He?s quick and accurate and knows how to kill a man simply and efficiently.

[B]Alliance:[/B] Tokyo Elite[/COLOR]

When I started reading this I was like ?Hmm, this seems familiar.?

Then I realised it was you.

Oh my God, Sean, I swore you were a girl XD.

Glad to see this back now we?ve improved, though. [/SIZE]
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[COLOR=DarkRed][SIZE=1]((under Construction))

[B]Name:[/B] Tobais Valentine Kaine

[B]AKA:[/B] "Bloody Valentine"

[B]Age:[/B] 21 (And finally legal to do...most of the things...he's been doing since he was twelve...)

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v97/Jipsie/___JMB____by_Arehandoracrop.jpg]On File[/URL] Loose jeans that may or may not be torn depending on what day of the week it is, a simple tank top and an old plad overshirt a little too big for him, scuffed hiking boots and a plan silver post in one ear... Tobias looks no different than any other random college student you are likely to meet. But under his parted hair, his left eye is clouded over blue, sightless, and on his back, at the base of his spine, is the tattoo of a spider identifying him as one of Dynasty's owned.

[B]Personality:[/B] Quiet. Tobias rarely speaks if he has not been spoken to, though he is fluent in English, French, Coptic, and Chinese...if his French does have an absolutly horrid British drawl to it... He never quite did get the hang of French...

Generally personable, kind, good natured, Tobias has a soft spot for animals and a weakness for children. He really doesn't seem the violent sort, which makes him all the more dangerous an assassin. He prefers music and books to combat training, and is rarely seen without his head phones either hanging out his back pocket or around his neck...

[B]Biography:[/B] There is no information regarding Tobias' life before his second kill at the age of fourteen, save the rumor that his first kill was his father. Little is known about him in general, his kill number, he doesn't seem to have a modus operandi: Tobias simply shows up, gaining access to where ever he needs to be in whatever manner is most unobtrusive, kills his target with whatever happens to be handy, and leaves as quickly and quietly as possible.

He technically belongs to the Dynasty Corporation, who's employed are never just hired help. It's an odd organization, more akin to a cult than a crime syndicate, who's members [I]define[/I] loyalty. Tobias doesn't talk about it, but rumor has it he's one of the unholy trinity that rules it's success.

His reputation as a contract killer was nonexistant before the February assassination of the former Prime Minister of England. It was the first time one of his hits went public... Tobias was upset that night, and the whole mess went very badly. Nine people were killed, two more seriously injured, and an estimated twenty four thousand euros worth of train had to be...that is...retired... He is, as a rule, never that sloppy.

But the papers dubbed it the "Valentine Massacere", and him the "Bloody Valentine", which, due to his unfortunate middle name, was adopted by his contemporaries. It stuck like glue, and spread like the plague.

Seven years later and he still hasn't quite lived the nickname down.

His loyalty to the Tokio Elite is beyond question. Dynasty somehow got wind of "The Man's" situation and has, subsequently, taken an interest in his welfare... As a gesture of goodwill they've made a loan of Tobias as a guard dog of sorts, untill the whole affair gets straightened out.

The Man came into his office one day to find his secretary dead on the floor and Tobias sitting as her desk, calmly fielding the Man's telephone calls and filing his taxes as though nothing was amiss. The Man had seen him before, in his dealings with the Dynasty Triune, but had never spoken with him directly.

Tobias looked up, finally, and gestured casually to the dead woman. "She was going to kill you." He shrugged. "Do you mind if I transfer your ledgers over to Microsoft Excel? I'm not familiar with this program."

[B]Weapons:[/B] Two Ruger P94 15 shot Automatic Colt pistols. (Currently under ban in most countries) He prefers 9mm hollow point shells. He carries them everywhere, demagnitized to avoid setting off any security alarms, but rarely uses them. Most of his victims are killed by either the improvised garrot of his head phones or by the military surplus survival knife sheathed in his boot. He's a casual fighter, more of a gymnyst; he knows his body and its cabilities, and if his depth perception isn't the best, his balance and equilibrium are excellent.

[B]Alliance:[/B] Tokyo Elite[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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Name: can't remember her real name

AKA: Neko

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Appearance: She is half-cat, half-human. She has black cat ear along with a black tail and fangs. She also has long black hair that she ties up when in battle. She has bright emerald green eyes that shine like a cat in the dark. (This also causes her to see very well at night) She stands at about 5?4 and is somewhat curvy.

Personality:She has split personalities, one evil and violent, the other quiet and shy. Her evil side dreams of taking over the world and is always plotting something. Her good side however, only dreams of having a simple life with only a few friends. Each side has one thing in common; they are both very playful and naive.

Biography: At 7, she was dumped on the side of a deserted road to take care of herself. Since then, she has forced herself through school and a job. She now lives in an abandoned apartment with no memory of her life before the abandoment. She doesn't remember her name or her parents. All she can remember is the night it happened and she has nightmares about it constantly.

Weapon: Samurai sword, she trained herself eversince she was 8.

Alliance: Who you team with - Black Vipers
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[B]Name:[/B] Kota Kiryu

[B]AKA:[/B] Death's Gentle Hand

[B]Age:[/B] 24

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/Trenchcoat.jpg][U]Image on file[/U].[/URL] This is his general attire. He stands 5'9 and weights in at about 165 lbs. The glasses are a constant, no one knows his real eye color.

Personality: Calm and even very pleasant to speak to. He smiles alot and carries a calm air with him. He likes to laugh and make others laugh as well. He's a smooth operator and doesn't take offense easy, he's even ver light hearted toward self critisism. He is everything you wouldn't expect from an assasign.

Biography: He was raised in a typical japanese family. They were and upper middle class family and he enjoyed a many of the same simple pleasures that children growing up do. He went to a normal school, lived in a normal house, lived with an average family, and had average friends. In fact only one thing ever set him apart from the norm is the fact that he was adopted.

He never met his real parents, and he never really cared that much. He liked the family he had, even if he didn't think the same as they did. Like with most adopted children, there was a gap between him and his adopted parents. They always seemed to be on a different page, but this didn't mean that they fought alot, they just didn't talk much. He made friends with a rougher crowd, but was pretty good at keeping violence from exploding. He made quite the mediator for this group of what were otherwise, thugs and kept there levels of violence to a minimum.

Like lots of kids his age, he took to the martial arts and studied up as a hobby intially. But he enjoyed it so much that he started to dedicate more and more time at it. He enjoyed the chinese arts most of all. He enjoyed the challenge and physical strength involved in the offensive arts from the main land. This was fun for a while, then he decided to broaden him veiws on the martial arts. There were so many styles that he took in many varieties from the above mentioned offensive arts, to the defensive arts like akido, to the armed arts like kenjutsu, and the stealth arts like ninjutstu.

He became very competitive and traveld across the country in tournaments and became well known for his skill. It was at the national tournament in Okinawa that he first met him. He was an older man, but had a strong and almost frightening air about him. But this intrigued Kota more then worried him. The man had expressed an immidiate interest in him and Kota decided to pursue this interest. When he approached this man he found out about a group this man was organizing. He said it was perfect for people with his [I]'skills'[/I] or so this man said.

That was almost 10 years ago. He took this mans offer and joined him in the group known as the "Tokyo Elite". There's a rogue now and he's been orderd to find her and kill her. He never met this girl, and he's not that sure she even knows who he is, but business is business. If she is an assasign, then she should understand this.

Weapon: He uses a [URL=http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c384/GeneOutlaw/KotaKatana.jpg][U][B]Custom Katana[/B][/U][/URL] as a weapon. He keeps it tucked away in his coat on his back.

Alliance: Tokyo Elite
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[B]OOC:[/B] zomg, you're back! I knew the title sounded familiar. I hope you don't mind that I re-used some parts of my sign up from the old thread.
[B]EDIT:[/B] Editted most parts, yet to re-do the Bio.
[B]EDIT2:[/B] Redid the Bio but it still has the same kind of story as the first.

[COLOR=Navy][B]Name:[/B] Taura Akatsuki

[B]AKA:[/B] Sakura

[B]Age:[/B] 22

[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://img301.imageshack.us/img301/5099/girls836vv.jpg]Here[/URL], she usually chooses to wear tight black leather pants, and a clingy black tanktop or a long sleeved top with the sleeves pushed up just above her elbows.

[B]Personality:[/B] The easiest way to describe Taura in one word is: anti-sociable. You would NEVER bother looking for her in a crowd, unless she was on a mission of some sort, she'd be the one on the outside, scoffing at the pathetic groupies as they talked animately. The only times she'll be comfortable with people is if they truely gain her trust, which isn't an easy task by any means. The leader of the Black Vipers has her trust unconditionally as she was there for her after the murder of her sensei, and a few other members of the group have gained the priveledge of being one of Taura's few friends. All of her past senseis are also dear to her heart as they taught her the ways to become the great fighter that she is now. Her biological parents however are on the outer boundaries. She rarely even sees them or talks to them because they never cared for her when she was growing up, so now she cares not for them, just returning the favour.

Taura has a fiery personality, if she is irritated by someone, that person will soon feel her anger in any number of ways from verbal to physical abuse. But when she's determined about doing something, she [I]will[/I] get it done, no matter what the cost. Taura will only go to the far reaches for her senseis and the leader of the Black Vipers, because those are the people she cares for the most, and has uttermost respect for all of them. She puts all her effort into doing something, unless its a task that doesn't take much at all, where she will get it done with precision and care, but not use a lot of energy.

Taura enjoys wide, open, spaces and usually practices all her skills outside in a field or clearing somewhere, where its peaceful, quiet and undisturbed. She's extremely skilled in controlling her temper now, from when she was a child, is she's angry she'll either use one of the calming methods she's been taught, or she'll do some taichi and have a session of meditation until she feels better. Her martial arts, gymnastics and acrobatics help a lot, keeping her limber and flexible constantly so she doesn't have to stretch much at all before she goes about doing some kind of physical activity.

Sensei Namura was the one that gave Taura her new name of 'Sakura', his reasoning behind that was because people always underestimate flowers, as they see only the flower, and not the thorns hidden beneath. He told her that she should prove them all wrong, since she looks beautiful and fragile on the outside, but she can kill you easily without a thought if you anger her enough. She's the Deadly Flower and if you anger her, you'd better beware.

[B]Biography:[/B] Taura considered herself to be without parents as she grew up, it seemed that they never had time for her at all, being too busy with work. Her parents thought that she'd be happy, she got everything she asked for without being spoilt, because they both had jobs with high income; her father was one of the best lawyers in the country, and her mother helped train and breed thoroughbreds for racing, but all Taura ever [i]really[/i] wanted was to be shown that she was cared for, she wanted love from her parents, but that was something they couldn't provide. Taura's life was sour due to this lack of love, she was constantly gloomy, always with her eyebrows slanted down and her mouth turned down in a firm frown, pinning anyone that approached her with a gaze that could kill.

Due to her lack of friendliness, she had no friends at all. Everyone was afraid of her, even the teachers; her parents were well-reknown for being mean and relentless, and they soon realised that Taura had inherited those characteristics, making her anti-social, but they didn't know that it was only from a lack of love, if she did, everything would be oh so different. It was deathly obvious that people were scared of her, in every class, there was always a desk/seat empty in a perimeter around her, the teachers never asked her anything, or tried not to talk to her at all, and when she was walking through the halls everyone would move out of the way and stare at her as she went past. Taura loved the feeling because there was no one to bother her at all, she didn't see the reason to have friends as they were just something that would hold her back from doing her best in everything.

Taura was a smart girl and easily aced her classes, getting top scores. It was a ploy to seek attention from her parents, as she figured that they would shower her with praise and love if she did incredibly well, all that happened was a congratulation and a wave of the hand in dismissal. She would work hard constantly and her parents never took notice, brushing it off. Finally when she was 10, she told them that she was getting bored since she finished school work in no time, her parents just said to pick some extra curricular activities as long as it didn't disturb them. Taura chose several disciplines of martial arts, weapons classes, and acrobatics/gymnastics. Her parents were satisfied, not caring about the cost as long as all the activities kept Taura out of their hair so they could go about their business. Taura asked her parents for a weapon to call her own so she could get to use it well in weapons class, so they gave her a large wad of cash to spend on what she wanted. She had shopped for an entire day before finding the perfect weapons sitting in a store window, they caught her eye and she ran into the store, purchasing them immediately, she brought them home and presented the black sais to them, they didn't care for the weapons, or the cost of 5070 yen. (43 US$) Taura immersed herself deeper into her classes and school, at the age of 12 she finally realised that nothing she did would ever get the attention of her parents, spending most of her time outside somewhere or just on the roof, liking to do her things outdoors instead of indoors just because she enjoyed the freedom the outside world provided.

By the age of 16 she had already mastered her martial arts classes, having a blackbelt with golden stripes for each and was top in her classes of gymnastics/acrobatics and weaponry. Her martial arts and weaponry teachers were her closest friends, she was close to them and they were the only people she would talk animately to or smile for. Taura finished up with school and started her own dojo with money from her parents, teaching a large variety of martial arts and asked her old senseis to teach with her, which they all agreed to do, helping her to get on her own feet and they all earned a large salary with flows of students from each academy her senseis had owned before they joined her. Her taichi sensei was one of her favourites since he had been the one to help her gain control of her temper when no one else could, he taught her how to meditate and keep calm.

5 years ago Taura was headed down to the dojo for another packed day of lessons, but her senses were alerted when she saw that the doors were already widely open. She entered the wooden building cautiously before her eyes widened in shock. She quickly ran over, looking left and right in case the criminal was still around. Taura fell to her knees and turned Sensei Namura over onto his back from where he had been lying in a large pool of crimson blood. Tears gathered in her eyes for the first time since she was a baby as she cradled her tae-kwon-do sensei, he had been as close as a father to her, much more than her own parents, he had even been the one to give her a new identity via a different name which she preferred to be called. She looked around and saw the blood sunk in a certain area, she peered at it closely, seeing the letters "TE" etched deeply into the wooden floorboards, she didn't know what they represented, but she swore on Namura sensei's dead body that she would seek revenge.

There was a sound of footsteps and Taura spun around, raising her hands in a fighter's stance as she pushed up on her knees. A woman entered the dojo, looking down at her and the body, a look of sympathy crossed her face sadly. Before Taura could say anything, the woman was telling her that a rival assassin group had murdered him. She then confessed that she had been watching Taura for a while now, waiting for the right time to approach. Being told that she'd been watched for years shocked her and Taura stood, carrying the body into another room of the building, laying a sheet over the corpse. She returned and pulled her twin sais from her belt spinning them and holding them out. The woman smiled and the two of them fought, the battle lasting hours until they were at a stalemate with their weapons against each other's throats. The woman smiled and pulled away, Taura watched her carefully before deciding that they were done with the spar, tucking the pronged weapons back into her belt. The woman offered her a position in her own gang, the Black Vipers, Taura smiled and agreed, the two shook hands firmly as she welcomed her new life as Sakura, she [I]would[/I] seek revenge for Namura sensei, if it was the last thing she did.

[B]Weapon:[/B] A pair of [URL=http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0000AX69G.01-A2T3ASM7TOCPQE._SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg]Sais[/URL] and a pouch full of [URL=http://img52.imageshack.us/img52/3089/mcfc209sl6bq.jpg]Shuriken[/URL].

[B]Alliance:[/B] Black Vipers[/COLOR]
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[SIZE=1]So far all the sign-ups are loooking great!

One or two little things I shall say, I don't mind if all the old members re-use there [b]older[/b] sign-ups, but I know we've all became far better writers since then. And I can guarentee this one shall be more active than the last one which died quite soon.

A new chapter shall be posted every week on A [b]Monday[/b] or [b]Wednesday[/b]; Mondays will be for ahem...[i]special[/i] chapters which will involve...well you'll find that out.

I shall post my sign-up Wednesday and we should be starting next Wednesday.

Also; sign-ups shall be closed next [b]Monday[/b].[/SIZE]
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[b][size=1]Name: [/size][/b][size=1]**** (he keeps it private)

[b]AKA: [/b]Ace

[b]Age: [/b]26

[b]Gender: [/b]Male

[b]Appearance: [/b][url="http://hyung-taekim.org/displayimage.php?album=11&pos=11"][u]here[/u][/url] He usually wears the same clothes as in the picture, but black, and has a pair of square dark glasses over his eyes.

[b]Personality: [/b]Ace is about as laid-back as you can possibly get, so much so he is almost horizontal. Even when in combat, he is cool, calm and chilled out, almost to the point of being lazy. He always gives his two cents' worth, though, and will always push something if he thinks it is worth pushing.

He has only once been known to lose his temper, and it cost him that time, so he has since given up on being angry. But this is not to say that he is not an effective assassin. He is cool under pressure, making him one of the greatest assassins on the team.

He also has a sadistic streak, and has been known on many occasions to torture victims before ending their lives. But he still does not show this side to anyone but the victim.

[b]Biography: [/b][i]My name is Ace. You of all people should know that by now. You wanna know about my life? Jesus, that's asking for it. Alright then, but buckle up. It's one hell of a ride.

I was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma. But that doesn't really factor in. I never knew my real parents, they died the day I was born, killed by some Man that nobody knew who the hell he was. I was shunted straight into foster care, and I was passed from family to family for almost ten years.

Some of them were pretty ok, but they couldn't deal with me. I was too quiet, too uncommunicative...what? Words too big for you? Buy a dictionary...anyway, I was too quiet. They got freaked out by it, same as most people. The only time I could cope at the foster home was my weekly sessions at a martial arts dojo, apparently paid for in my parent's will, for some reason. Turns out they wanted me to do this all along.

I trained at the dojo for upwards of three hours a day, learning all different types of fighting style, and earning a couple extra dollars a week clearing up afterwards. My sensei was a good man, and I ached to spend any spare time I could right there.

Finally came my eleventh birthday. I was transferred to a new home, with a guy who seemed like the perfect father. He was kind, always talked to me, affectionate, loved kids. Heh. Turned out he loved kids a little too much, know what I mean?

Night of my twelfth birthday, that slimy bastard creeps in my bedroom and closes the door. He turned the light on, and didn't even wake me up before he started. Well, it sure as hell woke me up, that's for sure. I grabbed my bedside lamp, thought "I ain't taking no more ********," and smashed that lamp straight into dear old daddy's skull. The blood was pretty incredible, kinda beautiful in it's way, I guess.

The police found out what happened, and they pardoned me, realising what that guy had done to me before. I was sent to the only place I had ever been comfortable, that dojo I used to train in. The sensei adopted me, and I was happy as anything you ever saw.

Seven years I lived with him, until I couldn't learn any more from him. I got all this, like, Zen, and I was at the top of my game.

That was when this dude approached me with a little offer. I could become something I never would have dreamed of, making more money than I ever had before. One downside...I had to kill people to do it. This guy saw I had skills, and took me on.

I was the best he ever had, I could kill people quietly, noisily, subtly, obviously, painfully, painlessly, whatever the client ordered. That was where I got my nickname...Ace. It wasn't 'cause I was the best or anything, I'm not as arrogant as all that, it was 'cause of my calling card. My speciality if you will. A little experiment of mine that turned out to be pretty damn effective, and kinda cool, if you don't mind me saying. The Bladed Ace. An ace of spades, the playing card, you know? Except all round the edges...metal filament. Sharp as a razor, easy to throw, deadly to the touch. It's a beautiful thing.

But that job went down the drain when I was hired to kill the guy who hired me...if that made sense. Someone...didn't tell me his name...told me just to call him "The Man," hired me to end the guy who found me in the dojo. So I did. The money was good. So sue me.

Course, that was four years later, and I'd pretty much cut off all ties with him anyway.

So now how old am I...? Twenty-three? I went freelance for a while, a few years, going about things in my own way, but then something came to me that was even sweeter than the original deal. A girl, more of a woman to be honest with you, came up to me and asked me to join her crew. I asked why, and she told me she knew who killed my parents all those years ago, and that she could help me get revenge. And I could earn a little extra on the side as I went.

So I joined, but she's yet to tell me who it was who killed my parents...

[/i][b]Weapons: [/b][url="http://www.warriorquest.com/torashuko.jpg"][u]These[/u][/url] cat claws, and his trademark weapons, the Bladed Aces, all marked with [url="http://capmarine.com/cap/graphics/Ace-1.jpg"][u]this[/u][/url] insignia

[b]Alliance: [/b]Black Vipers

[i]Wow, that was long...hope this is good for you, Sean[/i]
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[SIZE=1][B]Name[/B]: Lei

[B]AKA[/B]: Blue-Jay

[B]Age[/B]: 25

[B]Gender[/B]: Female

[B]Appearance[/B]: //update to come//

[B]Snippet[/B]: A crumple of paper his heard throughout the small room, and a man in a dark navy suit looks at a 23 year old woman sitting in front of him. Her smile was enough to scare the man out of his wits, the pure essence of death and fighting eradiated from the mass of female sitting in front of the man.

?I?ve heard of your old career Dijinku, and I know of your particular hate for one man on this planet. Now, if you do not know what I want from you then you deserve to die. But, if you have guessed why I am here then I?ll let you live, with a little bonus thrown in.? said the woman, keeping her cool for the whole of her speech. The man sitting in front of her, Dijinku, was squirming in his seat.

?I?I?don?t know what you?re talking about, Blue-Jay.? Dijinku spluttered out in flawless Japanese. The man was now slowly backing out of his desk. BlueJay shook her head and laughed sending a cold sweat over Dijinku, she slowly went to her side and a flash of metal blinded Dijinku. She pulled out a cigarette and a packet, throwing them to the man who grabbed them longingly.

?Now, why am I here?? Blue-Jay asked the man who had just inhaled one of the cigarettes, he flicked the butt of the cigarette and the ash crumbled down to the ash tray. The man gave no answer and Blue-Jay shook her head, ?Well I?ll tell you why I?m here.?

?Now, this guy has taken our stocks, he?s our target, and he leads the Tokyo Underworld, do you think you can take him??
The answer was obvious, if anyone of them showed the slightest hint of fear, or worry then they were exiled from the group, soon killed by a fellow member later.

?Now, you and Vince have history, can you take him??
[b]End Flashback[/b]

?You heard about the Vince kill didn?t you?? asked the woman, looking mad, but not a drop of insanity showed in her eyes. She wasn?t mad, or insane, she was determined. The man nodded slowly and the woman smirked slightly.

?Well, you might just be joining him.? she said, winking at the figure who was now scared half to death.

[B]Weapon[/B]: Two [url=http://www.completemartialarts.com/information/weapons/images/shuriken.gif][b]Shuriken?s[/b][/url] attached to two holsters on her back. And a Royal Blue [url=http://www.karatedepot.com/catalog/images/items/wp-sw-04.jpg][b]Shoto[/b][/url].
Alliance[/B]: Black Vipers.[/SIZE]
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[CENTER][FONT=Verdana][SIZE=1][B]Name[/B]: Grace

[B]AKA[/B]: Butterfly

[B]Age[/B]: 22

[B]Gender[/B]: Female

[B]Appearance[/B]: [Search for a picture.]

[B]Personality[/B]: I guess you can call her ?weird? in a sense. Butterfly seems to have the intelligence of a 10 year old girl, its not anything mentally wrong with her, but she just acts that way. No one ever knew why. Butterfly is the playful type as well, go figure. Laughing and prancing around is what she lives for, it would never be the day you will see her down in the dumps, or doing something actually productive.

This personality is also how she received her nickname. When in combat, Butterfly is usually seen prancing around with her bladed fans. And then suddenly, she?ll jerk to the side and slash her opponent. This style of fighting earned her the alias ?Butterfly?.


Journal Entry 12/9/??

Dear Journal,
I found these awesome fan thingies. They are super sharp! The seller guy said that they are used for fighting, isn?t that cool? I wanna learn how to fight with them, how to kill with them! I will be one of the best killers in ******! So I need to teach myself. . . I should start tonight! Yea, I?ll start tonight. I probably won?t talk to you for a while, please don?t get mad at me, k?

Journal Entry 1/1/??

Dear Journal,
I am super sorry! I totally forgot about you! I knew I was, but that?s not why I am apologizing. I have been teaching myself how to fight with these fans! It?s so amazing journal! I twirl around with them, and they make this whizzing sound. Whoooosh, whooosh. Like that. So I have been practicing really hard, it?s been so fun too! I will be deadly soon enough. Watch me, I will. I found in the Yellow Book an ad for a martial arts studio. Maybe I should go check it out. Bye journal!

Journal Entry 1/3/??

Dear Journal,
They were mean to me. They told me that little girls cannot learn how to fight professionally. They kicked me out of the ******* place! I am soooooo mad! I don?t even know WHAT I am going to do. But I know I am going to get my revenge. My sweet tasting revenge. They thought I was stupid, and girly. Watch, tonight when they have to class, I am going to teach them what I can do. They think they are so superior to me! Well they aren?t! And I will make sure they know who Grace is!

~Later That Day~

The bell above the door at the martial arts studio rang. Everyone turned to look at who the late arrival was.

? Ah, young ma-. Wait, who are you??

Grace stood in the doorway, the wind was swinging the door back, and making the bell ring continuously. She held her two fans on each side of her. She was a mess, her hair was tangled up, yet it fell perfectly down her face. A step in, the tenseness and anticipation within the studio grew stronger.

?I said, who are you!??

Grace slowly rose her head. It was quiet for about 2 whole minutes, everyone seemed to have there eyes on Grace. Then in a heart beat, Grace lifted her right fan up, shifted her weight to her right leg, and slashed at the man standing next to her. He fell to the ground, blood flowing from his neck.

The other students stumbled backwards. Grace smiled, she ran around the studio prancing around takes a swing at anyone who was in arm span of her.

?Hahaha!? A laugh sounding like that of a little girl was the only thing that filled the air of the studio. Every slash ending in a moan and someone falling to the ground.

Grace stopped in the middle of 13 bodies, 4 dead. Grace looked around as she saw the live men squirming and groaning. She looked down, in what seemed to be shame. A woman walked into the studio, and awkwardly stepped over a lifeless body.

?Hmm. Nice fighting style. . .?

?I didn?t want to kill them really! I just wanted to show them that I wasn?t weak, I just wanted to -?

The Girl cut her off. ?I know what you mean. Why don?t you take a walk with me, we seem to share something in common. Revenge.?

At first Grace gave the Girl a curious look. She wasn?t entirely sure to go with the odd character who hadn?t introduced herself.

?Just come, Butterfly.?

?Butter. . . fly??

?Yes. Your new name will be Butterfly.?

[B]Weapon[/B](s): Two (2) bladed fans. A small dagger if the fans are somehow confiscated.

[B]Alliance[/B]: Black Vipers[/SIZE][/FONT][/CENTER]
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[color=AFF3823][size=1][b]Name.:[/b] Alexei Kraskinov Arhleck.

[b]Nickname.:[/b] Rosenrot. (rose red.)

[b]Age.:[/b] Twenty seven. (27.)

[b]Gender:[/b] Male.

[b]Appearance.:[/b] ||[url=http://img503.imageshack.us/img503/2172/alexeika50je.png]Limited edition of me, personally done. Unfortunately, the camera blurred my guitar and caused it to appear pink.[/url]||

[b]Personality.:[/b] Rosenrot is a melody of passion. One minute, Rosenrot is a loveable bystander, the next he can be an angered, furious fighter. Often described as a man of the arts, Rosenrot is a large fan of [i]music.[/i] Especially those specializing in dark undertones and flurrious guitar rifts. One once said, "Rosen lives his life by the sheer will to listen to more music, and make more music." That's probably true, given his...previous arrangement. If you touch something he asks you not to, you'll likely lose those fingers in a quite painful manner. A possessive, loveable, and at the same time, feared man, Rosenrot is a strange anomaly.

[b]Biography.:[/b] [i]Just call me Rosenrot, or Rosen. Or even R. It doesn't really matter, I answer to all three. Since you're asking so nicely, I'll tell you why I'm sitting here with a cherry red guitar in my hand, and have the music playing in the back ground. You may not realize it, but that's Pink Floyd-One of My Turns, on The Wall album, released in the year 2000. It was written about the original lead singer, Pink, who eventually went insane. One reason I love it. Songs and albums with meanings are so much more beautiful...anyway. Let's get on with the show, my friends.

I was born in Russia, but my parents soon moved to the town of Arcola, Indiana. It seems we were in fear of something in the Motherland, but I didn't know what at that time. Three years later, I'd find out. My "american" name was Alexander, not much of a difference. I got the call in school. My parents were hanging from the top of a two story apartment building-our house-not even half a mile from the school. Hanging from the ceiling, throats ripped, kidneys and all major organs missing, and the most disturbing? Traces of sexual activity nearly five minutes before death. The sick bastard forced them to make love to him. Their eyes were gouged out, and their sides garrotted. It scared the living hell out of me.

I went back to the Motherland to live with grandparents, but they were dead by the time I got there. It went the same for all of my family members. Killed in the same fashion as my mother and furher, (Father.) and then, he went for me.

I was eleven. He was a freakish man of small stature, and held a wicked, curved katana that I later found out originated in the eastern part of Japan, made by this midget himself. He had a blade, I had...a guitar. Before I knew it, I held his lifeless head in my right hand, and the guitar string, bathed in blood in my left. The rush was exhilirating. The revenge, for the cruel mistrade.

From there, I became a hired killer on my thirteenth birthday. I bought myself a new guitar, made a couple hundred grand off of my music, and then went into the service known as "Assassination." I'm a unique killer, I use my guitar. Music and money is the best trade off of being an orphan-no one can tell me what a mess my life is.

I met Her a while ago. He just told me to tell her about myself. It wasn't easy. She had this stare in her eyes, it freaked me out. I managed to keep the lyrics to Mother in my head, and that helped me get through it. Now, I'm in her service. All for the Lady and the music, my friends.[/i]

[b]Weapon.:[/b] A cherry red eletric-acoustic Gibson guitar laced with white spirals along the body. Sometimes I use the strings, most times I use the body of it, though. I've also learned a couple of hand to hand-and foot to foot-fighting styles over my years. I mainly use my Gibson, which I affecionately call Rainer, with some fancy footwork. You'll just have to see it.

[b]Side:[/b] Black Vipers.[/color][/size]
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[COLOR=Teal][SIZE=1]Name: Jackie Blair

AKA: jack

Age: 22

Gender: male

unless he's on the street when he works he wears suits and professional clothing, he's so use to moving in them that it doesn't seem to phase him. But, on his time off normally he just throws on a shirt ,some jeans and finds an old pair of sneakers he feels comfortable in.

Personality: He's quite the charmer if you asked anyone who's encountered him. Not exactly the type you'd think to kill at first, Normally when most actually get to know him, they notice his idealistic and sadistic views on life are mostly frightening. Usually when confronted about his views he laughs it off and says everyone to there own opinion, with a slightly sour tone of voice. The things he faces makes him hard and cold but at the same time easily hurt. When he's hurt if he isn't allowed to kill you he'll put on a vicious front and attack verbally.

Biography: "Oh, you must be looking for jack." When the smoke cleared he saw the old mans face an incisive smile sliding across his face. "That?s exactly who I'm looking for...I need information on him." at the moment Christian was looking for a murderer only known by the small notes he leaves on his victims almost assuring that they died for a reason. So far all leads and searches were fruitless until, "you want information on Jackie?...Pretty bold to come right to this source isn't it."

The old man pressed his lips into a thin line the smell of smoke taunted Christian's nose once more before he finally put the damned thing out ."you realize how much I'm putting at risk by telling you this right? he's one of our top he's done many things for us." He found it odd that the man was telling him all this.

The old man leaned over the table towards him, his eyes narrowed staring into Christian's awkwardly. "Well you know where he's from right? The ******* west Indies." "I see.." "That?s where they do voodoo and **** . . . " he frowned, wow what a use of stereotypes. "Some say while he was living down there someone put a curse on him." "You?ve got to be kidding me." "I'm serious." "Look if your not going to stick to the truth then don't bother." phased by his 'lies' Christian stood up from the table suddenly before his attention was caught by slow foot steps coming from the left side.

"Sit down please, sir." A cold hand firmly gripped his shoulder pushing him down in his seat with a force. "Christian, am I right? I thought so." Jack sat down in the middle of Christian and the old man in front of him who didn't look in the least bit nervous. "Now I've heard you've asked about me?" his voice was light but not to the point of girlishness.

Christian's eyes narrowed on the man he identified at jack for the moment.
Jack picked up a fork. ?Well, I was born in the islands...like he said...raised in a small southern town in the United States and then continued on, I didn?t actually make my first kill until about four or so years ago.? He looked at the fork and scratched it with his nail a disgusted frown crossing his face. ?This is filthy..? He grabbed the detective by the back of the head nails digging into his scalp, grabbing a fist full of hair. Jackie twisted his hand and pulled his head back.?

Now then back to business.? The fork struck into his neck before he even had a chance to defend himself, the sharp pain for metal piercing skin sinking in one he realized what had just happened to him, Jack moved with such a force that the old man winched a little when it broke the skin blood dripping down jacks hand leaving bloody blotches on the sleeve of his shirt, this was what he lived for. Jack slowly let the man's head drop back, blood still coming out the four punctures in his neck. He picked up a napkin and wiped his hands clean, nothing he could do about the sleeves for now.

?I continued killing and haven?t stopped since . . . ? he didn?t feel that he needed to go into detail about his childhood, Most of it was a blur to him and what use was it when you were dead. He got up and pushed the chair until the table before looking at the old man. ?Take care of that for me will you.? He walked outside, why did he kill Christian? The man was a problem, at first his futile search for the yet to be prosecuted murder didn?t phase Jackie. But, lately he had come to close to the fire and had to be burnt, Jackie adjusted his glasses and strolled down the street stopping at the corner. He was at the bus stop where he wanted to be. The smell of moisture seem to fill the air and make him sniffle a little. Jackie sat down at the Bus stop. ?At least he wasn?t wearing blue...? he mumbled and looked in front of him at the side walk. His eyes stopped at a pair of black boots. ?Yes?? ?I?ve got a job offering for you interested?? from that day on, he promised himself he would NEVER kill so sloppily again, he had let someone track him. That wasn't a mistake he wouldn?t make twice.

Weapon: two black revolvers and a small dagger which he keeps on the inside of his jacket.

Alliance: Who you team with - Tokyo Elite[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[Font=Arial][Size=1][B]Name:[/B] Unknown

[B]AKA:[/B] Sidearm

[B]Age:[/B] 23

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://www.animestocks.com/gallery/?v=i&id=Gundam%20Seed/Screenshots/Kira%20Yamato&i=5]Sidearm[/URL]

[B]Personality:[/B] Sidearm is a very happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He loves nothing more than to jabber with someone over nothing. Known to talk off the ear of even the most talkative of people, he loves to be around people, not caring if they hate or love him.

A different side of Sidearm also presents itself on occasion. Keeping his anger all bottled up, he releases it only when the situation calls for it, e.g. battle. It really depends on the situation though.

Sidearm all around just loves to be around people, but even more so, he loves his job. Every possible scenario brings him upon a new image of someone dying. From the typical prostitute to rich man and the cutting off of certain manly parts and slow bleeding to death, to the really exciting stealth missions that end in a shootout, Sidearm loves it all.

All and all, Sidearm seems pretty two dimensional, although deep down, he harbors feelings for Kage. I mean, what bisexual man wouldn?t feel the least bit attracted to someone who dressed that well and always looked great? Sidearm?s not sure if Kage harbors any feelings at all, much less for him, but if he does, Sidearm?d always be open for anything.

[B]Biography:[/B] Sidearm grew up in the Bronx, New York. His parents died when he was three, so he and his big brother and he moved in with a friend. They lived peacefully enough, watching each other?s back and having fun. When his brother, who was four years older than he was, joined a gang with a group of his friends, Sidearm became constantly worried.

Everywhere he went; he only traveled in daylight and always carried a switchblade on his person for fear of being beat up. One day, a kid in class came up to him and slammed him into a wall. ?I heard what your brother did to my brother, and I won?t let something like that just not be avenged.?

That was the beginning of one of Sidearm?s bloodiest fights as a kid. From the start, Sidearm knew that this was not going to be a fair fight, as the entire group behind him began to circle around. First, a punk about his height stepped up, throwing his fists up. Sidearm just watched as he ran at him. Sidearm stepped to the side and stuck his foot out, tripping the kid up. He fell face forward and got his first taste of asphalt.

The next idiot to step up looked like he was at least two years older than Sidearm. He did not run at Sidearm, but instead started in slowly, while circling. Sidearm did not move around, but instead followed him with his body. When he did attack, Sidearm ducked and tried to sweep him off his feet, but he was too smart for that. He just stepped back and grabbed Sidearm?s leg as it swept by. He picked Sidearm up and held him, laughing.

Sidearm was not going to let this scare him, instead starting to get a swinging motion down. He was not trying to break free this way, but instead loosen something in his pocket; a very important something. As he felt it fall, he caught it and flicked the switch, the ?swish? sound it made echoing around the empty playground.

To this day, Sidearm will swear that he ripped through the arm from one end to the other, but deep down he?ll never know, because the knife was torn from its perch as the boy dropped him. The muscle was destroyed, without a doubt, but Sidearm wondered if he did any damage to the bone. Either way, he rolled out of the way of the other guy and looked around the circle.

Every single one of those boys took a step back as the boy held onto his gushing arm with the other. Sidearm quickly darted for the large fence that separated the street and the playground. His only thought was freedom. Just a simple climb and he would be away from those creeps. He could come back with his brother and his brother?s friend. Then they could?

His train of thought was stopped as a pair of arms grabbed onto him as he sprang for the fence. He still had a hold on the chain link, but it was quickly weakening. If he let go, it would be all over for him. He couldn?t let go?

The pair of arms ripped him off the fence and threw him onto the ground. Sidearm tried to land on his feet, but he instead landed on his back. A large form sat on him and Sidearm began to lose breath. As things began to blackout, Sidearm felt the weight suddenly leave. He shook his head, returned to reality and quickly stood up.

He looked around and saw the mass that had been sitting on him squirming around in pain. He turned to see who had done what and there was his brother. He smiled at Sidearm, waved and started walking towards him. Sidearm ran over to him and as he went to hug him, he felt the knife pierce through his stomach.

Behind Sidearm?s brother stood the bastard that had challenged Sidearm in the first place. He twisted it and laughed as Sidearm?s brother fell to the ground, dead. Sidearm flicked the blade in his pocket and without thinking plunged it into the kid?s head. He pulled it out and did it again, grinning like crazy. He felt the knife finally pierce the skull and enter the brain. He twisted it as much as he could and was still grinning as the body fell.

Sidearm then realized what he had done and fled. He ran back to his friend?s house where he spilled the story. There, he found out that his brother had killed that boy?s brother over Sidearm. Sidearm ran to the room he and his brother shared and stayed there for three days. He cried, mourned and realized what he had to do. He had to kill. Killing from that day forth became his primary goal.

He trained in the streets of the Bronx. Everyone feared his gang after about a month and no one challenged them. By the time he was 18, Sidearm was one of the more feared names in all of New York. Any and Everywhere he went, people would bend over backwards to please him. It was in a party that Sidearm got his first taste in the life of an assassin.

There in attendance was Sidearm, his friend and a girl named Trish. They had decided to join in on the party, after they heard that was being held by one of the most known members of the New York mafia. Sidearm, being the paranoid that he was, wanted information on his rival.

Unfortunately, he didn?t expect the member to be ready. Upon entering, he was stripped of all weapons and tied up. His two friends were allowed in and he was taken to the basement. He sat in a small dark room for hours it seemed. Finally, someone came and took him to another room with Trish and his friend strapped down to a table.

There, the torture began. First, they roughed Sidearm up a bit, but quickly switched to the two women on the table. The cut off various parts of the women and finally injected them with arsenic. The entire time, he cried as their screams reached he ears and he screamed as they died. As he awaited his inevitable death, his salvation came in the form of the man.

Apparently, the don and the man were great friends, and after the man had heard about Sidearm?s death grip on the Bronx, he wanted to meet the man behind the name. Sadly, he met only with a boy just out of puberty. He did not let that discourage him and struck Sidearm a deal. If he came to work the man, the don would forget his problem with Sidearm.

Sidearm was in no position to decline, so he signed on, training only a bit with his baseball bat. He learned the trade quickly and by 20 he was a full functioning member of the Tokyo Elite.

[B]Weapon:[/B] To keep himself humble, Sidearm uses a metal baseball bat to bludgeon his opponents and finishes them off the his pocket knife, which always a pocket at the shoulder, no matter what outfit Sidearm has on.

[B]Alliance:[/B] Tokyo Elite[/font][/size]
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[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] N/A

[B]AKA:[/B] Ven

[B]Age:[/B] Unknown

[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://hyung-taekim.org/displayimage.php?album=15&pos=4]Ven[/URL], or a rough idea, anyway. She's much paler, has dark red lipstick on at almost all times, and no braid.

[B]Personality:[/B] Ven is a very unique woman. At first glance, with her bloody red lips, scant attire, and pale skin, she seems every inch a seductive goddess of the night and as far as that is concerned, you'd be right. Ven is quite the charmer, and will use men and women both as she sees fit, usually to quench two particular lusts. First of all is the obvious; the lust for pleasure, contact, and rough, hard sex.

The other, though, the one that makes her so singularly different from other seducers? She will rip your throat out in a second and drink the red blood that pours out. Because Ven, as you might've guessed, is a living Vampire of sorts, a sadistic queen of sex and violence.

[B]Biography:[/B] The room was dark and hazy, the thick smell of sex and Pall Malls hanging in the hair like fog. The pale, naked goddess lay stretched out on the bed, a mischievous smile playing across those ruby red lips. She drummed lightly on the stained and crumpled sheets, locks of that powder snow hair dangling down in front of her dark, pitiless eyes.

[B]"So, you want to know about me, huh?"[/B] she murmured. [B]"See, that's what I don't like about screwing women. They always want to talk when it's over. But whatever. You wanna hear it, I need to spill sometimes, so let's get down to brass tacks.[/B]

[B]"My dad, he was a right and utter cock. Mom was no better, though she was dead from blunt trauma by the time I was seven. Three guesses how that happened. But maybe you don't wanna guess. See, my dad was a regular booze hound. The bad kind. The kind who yelled and threw **** and hit people. Mom usually got the brunt of it, of course, and me and big bro stayed out of the way the best we could. That ended when I was seven and he was eleven. Dad popped her one time too many, or one time too hard, and she dropped.

"I shoulda been out of there, but I wasn't. Me and my bro, Victor if it matters, we were shacked up with our Aunt Jenny for no more than two years before dad got out. He was friends with big people, see. Two years on good behaviour, even though he offed his own wife. God bless the United ******* States, huh? So he was back. And after spending two years in the joint, he wanted some *****. And, oh, hey, here's a little girl. Vulnerable. Weak.

"Bastard had his way with me no less than once a week. For years. By the time I was thirteen and started getting breasts, it was nightly. But the cocksucker didn't know something. He didn't know that brother knew, and that brother had lifted a switch from some old bum. One night, daddy dearest came home, and Vic stuck him. Bled like the pig he was.

"Vic got 25-to-life. Dad got two. ******* justice.

"I was on my own, then. Aunt Jenny was mom's sis, so she took care of me good, but she was a broken woman. So I was on my own, even if I did have a guardian. She was hopped up on Valium half the time. I had to make my own way, and to keep my mind of things, I took to the clubs. Thirteen, and I was already screwin' around with raver punks and sluts.

"I got the taste when I was fifteen. I was with this goth chick, from college, and she was into some hard stuff. S&M, that kind of ********. She wanted me to drink from her. Not come, I'd done that more times than I could count. Blood. So I did. And it was ******* orgasmic.

"Oh, don't look so scared.

"She had me drink it, and I loved it. So I started doing it with others, if they'd let me. The next year, though, some cock-jockey from the football team decided that no meant yes on my part, and tried ****. So I bit out his throat. ****** tasted better than he looked, lemme tell you that. And it felt ******* amazing, too, watching him bleed.

"I got the taste for the kill that night. And I started partying my way. Sex and blood, and sometimes ecstacy along the way. And then, I might this chick. She was pissed at her old boss, and an ex-assassin. Hot one, too. Starting a group, Black Vipers she said, and I thought, why the **** not? Life is boring, I need some hot kicks, and some of those Black Vipers were pretty damn good looking. Tokyo Elite, too, the bastards we're supposed to off. Might have some fun with them along the way.

"So, that's my story, like it or leave it."[/B]

[B]Weapon:[/B] Ven's weapon of choice is a very special one, that suits her...unique disposition. Wrapped around her dainty right hand is a metal guantlet, the end reaching up to her elbow and strapped three times around her arm with cross-shaped clasps. It's forged from light steel and painted jet black, but with streaks of red across the actual weapon part - the three inch blades extending from each finger.

As a back up, she keeps numerous throwing blades tucked away, but prefers to stick to her claws.

[B]Alliance:[/B] Black Viper[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[COLOR=#1e7836][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] -----
[B]AKA:[/B] Gum
[B]Age:[/B] 23
[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Appearance:[/B] [url=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v332/PicKitty/RandomPicchus/characterimage1.jpg]Gum[/url]*

[B]Personality:[/B] Gum is a very quiet young woman, the only noises coming from her being the chewing and popping of her gum, which she [i]always[/i] has plenty of. She says pretty much nothing at all, and her expression never changes despite whatever emotions she may feel. Because of this, she can easily mask her intentions and motives. She does have a playful side, though many would consider it more of a menacing, disturbing and violent side of her.

[B]Biography:[/B] Alison slowly opened the screen door, concentrating on one of the letters she held in her hands. She mouthed the name above the return address with a look of confusion on her face.

[b]"Who the hell is 'Gum'?"[/b] she asked herself. She sat down at her kitchen table and opened the envelope. Out fell three folded pieces of paper. Picking up the first one, she mumbled to herself at how familiar the handwriting was, but she shook her head of the thought and began to read.

[i]'Dear Alison,

You probably do not remember me. And the fact that I go by a different name now than when you knew me probably does not help. But it is of no importance for you to know my name anymore. I have been feeling increasingly guilty about what I have been doing, and I must write this confession for [/i]someone[i] to read. Even if I must choose a person I spoke to briefly over a decade ago.

It started back when I turned seven. My biological father bought me a pack of gum. His whore of a girlfriend, who was most likely planning to run off for a while, killed him about a week later when he tried to stop her from driving off with all our money. Little did she know, I had loaded her drinks and food with rat poison during the last dinner we had together. I do not believe she could have driven far. I was put in a foster family, but I was sent to an orphanage after an incident where I 'played' with the family pets. That is where we met.

You might remember me, since I was the only one in that terribly boring place that did anything other than sleep; I chewed my gum. Only the brand that my father bought me, though. Anything else lacked the sentimental value I wanted. After about two days of me being there, I was about to be sent away again when you spoke to me. I had wanted to ask you for many years why you chose me, but it would be pointless now because I no longer care.

The day after that, I was placed in another home. Once there, I discovered that they already had several foster children. One of them tried to take some of my gum, and I was forced to kill him. The others were getting on me nerves, too, so I got rid of them all in the same night. After that, they refused to let me return to an orphanage. I was going to be sent to a crazy bin for kids, but I decided that would not be the best place for me, so I simply left. Still only twelve, and with no actual home, I spent my first night in a long time in a dumpster. It was not really that bad; better than I remembered.

The next morning, I went to the largest park in the city. I met the Man there. I happen to know his actual name, but I do not think you deserve to know it. But anyway, I did not say a word to him, nor did I try to convince him that he should even notice me. But by the blood on my dirty clothes, he offered me a home and a job. I nodded my head, and he led me to his car.

He lived in a nice, large home. Something I was not used to. He asked me to tell him where the blood came from, but I decided I would prefer to show him instead. I killed a few of his butlers as a demonstration, and he called me a natural. He must have thought I was too young to be sent out to kill, and until I turned sixteen, I was like a tutored guard dog. I would not be surprised if he had a sign on the front gates saying, "Beware of Guard Girl" or something.

Then, for my sixteenth birthday, he gave me a pistol. I had recently finished my tutoring lessons, and so he gave me my first job. I could not tell you what kind it was or how many bullets it held, but I can tell you how many times it had to be replaced. Everytime he gave me an assignment, I would bring the gun along just in case, and end up leaving it behind. Of course, with his kind of money, replacing a tiny back-up pistol is nothing. I rarely used the guns I brought with me, anyway. I have always preferred using my hands.

And that is how it has been ever since. I kill for him. You may still be wondering why I wrote to you, and I feel that you deserve to know for having read all of my letter. You are my target today, Alison. I do not not know what you did, but I have been given your name and address, and some instructions. You just happened to be someone I recall. So again, I thank you for reading this. Once I see you drop these papers, I am sure I will be able to feel less guilty. I wish I could feel sorry for you, but that is not what I do. Good bye Alison.


Alison's shaking hands dropped the pieces of paper, and she slowly stood up, heading for her keys. But before she took more than three steps, she heard the chewing and popping of bubble gum. She didn't take another step.

[b]"I remember you,"[/b] she chuckled, her wavy brown hair falling into her face. [b]"You were the one all the adults were calling sick in the head. I'm not really surprised that you got into this kind of 'profession'. Headcases make the best killers, don't you think?"[/b]

Gum walked up behind her victim and blew another bubble, the same bored expression on her face that she had developed as a child. In a single, swift motion, she sent her hand straight through Alison's back and out her chest, and she was dead. Peeling the corpse off from around her forearm, Gum calmly dropped the dead body on the wooden kitchen floor and left the way she had arrived. If she still talked at all these days, she would have said something about getting tiles; it's easier to get blood off of them.

[B]Weapon:[/B] Gum is an expert in hand-to-hand combat, preferring not to use weapons. However, as a precaution she keeps at least one pistol on her at all times, though she is never attached to any of the guns she uses, and constantly ends up loosing or forgetting them.

[B]Alliance:[/B] Tokyo Elite

I've always wanted to be in one of the Kill Bill-like RP's. :3 Sorry it's not all done, but I've got a Global project to get done, even though it's midnight. I'll finish the biography some time today. ^_^;;

[b]EDIT[/b]: Sorry it took so long, but the biography is finally up. Apologies if it sounds like some of the rest of your sign ups, but I didn't really read most of them so I just did something that might be different. Can't wait for this to start. :'D

*Art by and courtesy of [url=http://fetalstar.deviantart.com]fetalstar[/url]. [/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[COLOR=DarkSlateGray][SIZE=1][FONT=Comic Sans MS][B]Name:[/B] Zoraki Lysandar

[B]AKA:[/B] Ixi

[B]Age:[/B] 24

[B]Gender:[/B] male

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b147/sand_dragon_19/claintz.jpg]Ixi[/URL] or atleast what he had looked like while he was still under training under Seliene, Now however his hair is more of a silverish color and he still carries her symbol in the form of a tatoo on the back of his right shoulderblade.

[B]Personality:[/B] One could call his personality to be a burning fire, raging to try and improve himself so he could be able to be the best there is. He has a very completive nature and will almost always get into an argument. Along with his completive nature is also a kind of a calm and cool person. He tries not to let almost everything in everyday life be a competition. However sometimes its almost an inevitable, he just takes things a little bit to seriously

More or less during a battle though he wouldn't call himself sadistic, however even in battle he always wants to be the one to cause the most blood to spatter, to break the most bones, to kill the most in a certain amount of time. Its always a game of sorts to him. Its one also that he can't afford to loose at the risk of his life in a sense. Some times however he tends to be?cold. Emotionless, almost uncaring to all those around him. It is till not known why he tends to get like this at times though

[B]Biography:[/B] ?If most people had asked you for a biography on themselves they would tell you of some kind of tragic thing happening. Parents died, family sent them off out of the family, that kind of ****. However my story is a little bit different from all of the run of the mill stuff. If you wish to seek the knowledge of me, You may wish to read this.

It was nothing more than a simple piece of paper. It was written by hand, looked a little weathered and it appeared that time had blurred a couple of the letters, although the words were still readable.

[I]I was born in the lower parts of Italy, although my family moved around the Mediterranean a lot so I really never had a home as one could say. They were traveling merchants, a life that I had hated to even be part of. So one day? I couldn?t have had been older than ten. I left them, probably broke the hearts of my parents into two separate pieces at the same time I did so. The only thing I cared about at the moment was myself and only myself. I was a very selfish kid. I would later know that would be the undoing of me but I didn?t care, not one bit. As long as I felt happy then that?s all that mattered in the world to me.

Eventually through some hopping and transfer from train to train. I wound up in the city of Alexandra. It was a wonderful city and so was the port. The ships were marvelous and I always pictured myself having one some day soon. Yet I still was basically a street urchin, stealing food, pick pocketing unexpecting pedestrians and such. Yet I always wanted more though, I knew I could do much better than this. This way of living continued for a while till I was eventually caught by a group of thugs. I swear I have never had my *** kicked like, never been able to feel such pain, it just bothers me even trying to write it on paper. After the beating was over, I was just lying in a pool of my own blood for the most part, my bones were broken. I was in the back of a street alley. Nobody was going to come to my rescue. For the most part I just gave up all hope then. A fourteen year old boy was going to die in the back of an alley just for stealing from the wrong person. Just before I lost consciousness I saw the silhouette of the one person who would change my life.

Later on I woke up in the back of a truck, completely bandaged up and for the most part still alive, before curing entirely to see how I was still alive I couldn?t move. Not because I was being restrained, but because I had almost no feeling in my limbs, whatever I had gone through must have been pretty ****** up. I would later find out that the woman who had saved my life was named Seliene, I was never allowed to hear of her last name. Yet it would be a name I wouldn?t forget for the most part. After we had arrived to wherever it was that we were going she tough me the use of a weapon. It wasn?t my choice but hers actually. She literally threw a staff at me once I was healed again and inside some kind of a?warehouse. I had a sparing partner who I would later find out was named Ty, such an odd name. He said that it was his birth given name and it didn?t stand for anything. I never believed him.

We were forced to spar each other under the watchful eye of Seliene till our hands were bloody from the constant attacks. We felt like slaves, almost like Seliene just liked to watch two kids constantly fight each other till they were almost on the brink of killing each other. However during a session against each other. Ty and I tried to make an attack against Seliene, it turned out to have failed and she kicked our ***** pretty damn well. She kept going on how ? the anger I see in your eyes burn brighter now than ever.? Apparently we had moved up on her ranking chart or something like that. Four years passed after that?

Now that we were both eighteen, we actually got to wield what most would call a ? real weapon? Scythes. And no longer were we under the careful eye of Seliene, but instead we were now put on assassination missions. I didn?t know what they were for, but at the time I found out that Ty was doing better than I was. I knew that I had to step my game up. I had to beat him, I couldn?t loose to him of all people. So I did exactly that and killed. I had no idea why I was killing, yet some of it seemed fun, Sometimes I decapitated people, Other times I stuck the blade into their body upside down and pulled up so that the blood rained down in a display of death. I just did it? it seemed as if I had no heart. I was stealing the souls of people whom I had no quarrel with.. and I still don?t know why I did it to this very day.

More years passed and eventually I had passed Seliene?s training. That?s what she called it, training. My mind was a torrent of confusion this time around. Seliene had thrown me through a loop of confusion more than once in this life. I had even been accustomed to calling her my mother at times since I had abandoned my original one. She gave me another scythe that had a pointed edge at the end, kind of spear like. Then told me I was ready. I was a full blown assassin and ready to go to work. When I asked her who was it I was going to work for she had told me only one thing.

The man.[/I]

[B]Weapon:[/B] Zoraki wield a deep teal colored scythe, its not as just as tall as he is, which is 5? 12?. Besides the rather sharp end that all scythes have, he has a sharpened end on the other. Its not like a double sided scythe but more like a scythe with a blade on one side, with a spear like end on the other, its mostly used for stabbing and breaking a guard. This was a present given to him {as explained in the bio}

[B]Alliance:[/B] Tokyo Elite

That has to be the most I have written for a sign up in a long time, hope its good enough. and what can I say? I am a scythe whore >_>[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[SIZE=1]At last, the team lists. I know that a few of you still have to update your sign-ups, but I also know that these people are amazing writers. So, the two people that have not got there sign-ups up I hope you can have them up soon.

[b]Black Vipers:[/b]
Aizen - playing as [i]Rosenrot[/i].
Blayze - playing as [i]Ace[/i].
Grace - playing as [i]Butterfly[/i].
Neuvoxraiha - playing as [i]Saturnine[/i].
Perfection - playing as [i]BlueJay[/i].
Sakura - playing as [i]Sakura[/i].
Unborn Lord Xion - playing as [i]Ven[/i].

[b]Tokyo Elite:[/b]
Epsilon - playing as [i]Zen[/i].
Ezekiel - playing as [i]Kage[/i].
Ikillion - playing as [i]Ixi[/i].
JJ - playing as [i]Sidearm[/i].
Kitty - playing as [i]Gum[/i].
Starwind - playing as [i]Death's Gentle Hand[/i].

Well that would be those accepted, to those not accepted I give my apologies but I didn't feel your sign-ups made the cut. Those with experience with the old Kill Game shall know that the writing will be intense and will be needing the best writers to get this a success.

I'm running a bit off-schedule, so the main thread should be up on tonight, or Thursday.[/SIZE]
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[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Tshe Cho-nyi.

[b]AKA:[/b] Zen.

[b]Age:[/b] 25.

[b]Gender:[/b] It.
[i] - Feminine/Female but doesn't associate with either gender.[/i]

[b]Appearance:[/b] [URL=http://img46.imageshack.us/img46/4092/thesi3dp.jpg]Here.[/URL]

[b]Personality:[/b] Blessed with SPD. (Schizoid Personality Disorder) and IED. ( Intermittent Explosive Disorder.) Zen is fairly patient, or least, tries to be more so then those surrounding. Nice and understanding to the general population. Avoiding, and a lack of interest in, social relationships. She has a tendency towards a solitary lifestyle. Zen can tolerate others for awhile as long as the possibility of being alone afterwards for existed. Liking very few others, if at all any.

However Zen is annoyed quite easily when people start rambling or some other annoying personality trait. Often times losing temper, becoming prone to violent out burst. Although not highly intelligent, Zen is smart. Using simple mathematics and Endocrinology ideals and theories while fighting. Rather then a fast or drawn out fight, it's aim is for accuracy. Allowing for the best results available.

Slightly mood swings often occur.

[b]Biography:[/b] She looked like a life size doll, just like a Lolita. It was the first time her facial expressions changed since the start of the interview... [b]"I'm with him, because it's the only way out of [i]exile[/i] and the [i]absolute[/i] infuriation of political figures. And to speak truly The Man, as many address him, is quite pleasurable to work for."[/b] Zen stopped, giggling. Cocking her head to the side with a childish smile. [b]"He was very nice, but in his own way. It was annoying how anyone could dislike him. I was unable to understand their emotions towards The Man. Those are the people who irritate me most."[/b]

The writer stopped, nervously, resting his pencil. Taking off his glasses and brushing his hair away from his face. He glanced up at her. Their eyes had not met until this moment and immediately he gaze dropped. Taking a split second of Zen entire form ad figure. Rubbing his eyes, Trey paced his glasses to the small stand beside his chair. Smiling he picked back up the pencil. It was shaking between his fingers. [b]"Could you explain the nature and history with him? Such a women must have a unique past."[/b]

Before he could move, she was upon him. Her knees barely pressing into the inguinal crease of his body, Zen's finger tips applying a light pressure to heart five. Trey's pencil snapped between his fingers. Zen voice was a whisper, her eyes open brightly, [b]"The Man is not 'him,' The Man is The Man. And I'm not male nor female, I'd beg your pardon to keep your manners."[/b]

Her grip releasing, she slowly moved off of him. Taking from the table a new, sharp, pencil and gently placing it between his shaking fingers. Zen slowly backed up to her chair, flopping down in the seat as those it were a bed. Her legs folding over the arm of the chair. Zen stretched reaching over the opposite side, a few inches of her stomach showing. [b]"If you really wish to know my past, you'll find why The Man is so uniquely kind."[/b]

Trey gripped the pencil tighter, writing, as she told her story.

[b]"I was age five in a family of six. Up until the age of 12, my parents hadn't really cared. After that age, they started to. It made me... Sick to my stomach. I wanted to get rid of them, all of them. A families' mocking smile is a terrible, terrible, terrible, thing. I took care of the smile just as quickly as it had come. That part I enjoyed. I was the only one left in my family line after that.

Age 17, I ran away with a friend to Thailand. We had been friends for years. However minds change and he 'grew up' and 'out' of the friendship that we had. I became his. Permanently. There was no where else to go. Three years of senseless beatings and rape, and whatever type of twisted love he had for me. Before [i]His Brother[/i] came into the picture, took a 9 millimeter gun to his brother's head. To My Lover's head. And took me away. Well, the fact of the matter was I had gotten attached to the man.

During the night when [i]His Brother[/i] had finished with me, he fell asleep. I contacted anyone and everyone I could. As things turned out I had no rights granted to me by law. Only what the brother had given to me. That wasn't very much. So I left during the night, I didn't get far. The next day I was in Indonesia, the day fallowing I was back in [i]His Brother's[/i] bed. I tried to leave again, I got as far as Japan. That was when I met The Man, offering me a way out."[/b]

Dismayed at Zen's speech, he put back down his pencil. Curling his hands into a fist, he cracked his knuckles. One by one, rolling other the top of each fist. An unsure grin on Trey's face as he stared again at the shape of her body. Examining her form, figure, and now more closely the arch of her back. The little bit of stomach that was showing. Zen's giggle and movements of her finger tips dragging a wire out from the top band of her stockings was his notion to begin writing again.

[b]"In the night as [i]His Brother[/i] was sleeping... I took a small knife from the kitchen. Did as I was instructed, [i]'get a blade, and whatever else you can use. But don't get too close. I don't want you killed.'[/i] I was 20 then, and those instructions were the kindest words I had heard in the longest time. Durning [i]His Brother's[/i] sleep, I wrapped the wire around him. Threw him around a bit and played as kind as I could. Before stabbing him in the heart, cutting a few things off here and there. I called the authorities in the morning, they asked me if I needed somewhere to be placed. Where ever The Man was, was were I [i]needed[/i] to be."[/b]

Shifting in her seat. Zen tossed the blade into the air. Trey watched it as it came back down, landing perfectly within her hands. Zen's hands were cupped, forming a slight shape of a heart above her neck. The wire dangling over her hands and down her neck on to Zen's legs. It flowed like water.

He rubbed his eyes. Placing his note book and stub of pencil on the table with his glasses. He stared at her hands. The cupping of her hands and the shape of which it formed. Trey's voice was the last sound spoken between them, [b]"You're form is lovely...[/b]

[b]Weapon:[/b] Tetsugen. A thin, but strong, black wire connected to a small blade at it's end. The blade measuring four point two inches tall and three point zero inches at it's base. Resting on the bottom edge and resting upon the wire there is a small Fundo. Or iron weight. Although the blade is self explanatory, the weight is slightly more complicated. The Fundo working to help with balance of the blade. It can also be used for more bludgeoning and entanglement purposes.

[b]Alliance:[/b] The Tokyo Elite.

[color=red][b]PS. - Thank you Sean. I'm sorry for being so late.[/color][/b][/SIZE][/COLOR]
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