DEATH SCYTHE, Momoko Kyoji

[MOMOKO KYOJI!]

[atrb=cellpadding,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-color: #303030; -moz-border-radius: 1em 1em 1em 1em,bTable] weapon IT SEEMS TO ESCAPE ME Name: Momoko Kyoji Alias: Momo Gender: Female Age: 24, born February 13, 1987 Occupation: Death Scythe; Teacher at Shibusen Weapon Form: Narukami's Roar AS SEEN THROUGH THE SOUL Appearance: A Lupara shotgun onto whose face has been carved the image of the Japanese god of thunder, Raijin (left), Narukami's Roar is a somewhat strange weapon in design, if you consider the two very different cultural birth places. The "bullets," which are actually the compressed wavelengths of her meister's soul, are charged with something akin to electricity- something that her soul seems to naturally conduct. Personality Traits: [+] affectionate [+] eager to please [+] fierce in battle [+] inquisitive [+] protective [+] simple [+] usually upbeat [-] clingy [-] ditzy [-] insecure [-] jealous [-] prone to mood swings [-] prone to taking things personally [-] vain Likes & Dislikes: [✔] cats [✔] dancing [✔] hot tea [✔] music [✔] pianos [✔] rain [✔] socializing [✔] students [✔] sunshine [✔] sweets [✔] the colour yellow [✘] being abandoned [✘] her mother [✘] hospitals [✘] failure [✘] kishin [✘] illness [✘] monday mornings [✘] the cold Notes: Momoko was born on February 13, 1987 in San Francisco, California. However, her parents were both inherently Japanese; as far as their family trees could be traced, their families had lived in Japan. Unfortunately for Momo, her mother had "made a hobby of ruining other people's lives," as she puts it, because while she was pregnant, she decided to run away from her husband and go to America. If he had been some sort of monster, she could understand. But from what she can figure out, he was a perfectly good man. If anything, the woman who'd carried her in her womb was the monster. She was essentially raised in a brothel, of all places. She tried to get away as much as she could, but at the end of the day, she knew she had to go back. It always killed her, and all along she hoped for a knight in shining armour to come save her. Eventually, she proved to be her own knight, at least to some extent: she heard from one of her friends about Shibusen at some point, and left home at thirteen to either get into the academy for Meisters and Death Weapons, so they were called, or go bust. Evidently, her father's side of the family had its secrets, as it was discovered that she was able to turn into a Lupara shotgun (something she'd been seeing in her dreams prior to this, oddly enough). Why a Lupara, an Italian weapon? She had no idea, to be honest. Later she supposed it was something like when foreigners were able to shift into Japanese weapons. But if it got her a ticket out of the brothel, who was she to question providence? At first, she had a hard time settling down in such a strange place. Sure, it was a welcome change from the brothel she'd more or less called home before this point, but at the same time it was such a drastic change! It was a little jarring. But for once in her life, she had a stroke of luck when she met her meister, a kind boy named Christopher. He was from California, too, though his family had moved around a lot as his father chased down job opportunities. Mere months after meeting with him, she was sure that he was going to be the storybook knight in shining armour she'd always longed for. She would have trusted him with anything, her life included. And as they progressed on their way to making her a Death Scythe, there were many times when that was put to the test. But never once did she falter, and he always pulled through. Surely, they would have the fairy tale ending so many wished for but only a select few ever got. She was so lucky, and she felt it every day of her life, even as they crossed the threshold of the twenties together, heroic meister and adoring weapon. When she was finally turned into a Death Scythe, things were grand. However, she wouldn't say that it was the height of things, believe it or not. Things had really only hit an impossible high when he told her one day that he had gotten them some time off from their teaching classes at Shibusen, as well as tickets for a plane to Japan- her homeland, to which she'd always wished to return. Words could not describe how happy she was. But just a few days before they were ready to depart, Chris came down with an odd illness. At first, it was a mere irritant, and he insisted that they would still go. Within a few days, though, it was nearly debilitating, and she forced him to call it off, as much as it pained her. He was checked into a hospital in Death City, and it would be five months until he left. In a body bag. After he passed- a process that was horrifically slow, wasting him away at an agonizing rate- Momo's world shattered. She had just watched the life slowly drain from her knight in shining armour. She spent the next six months in seclusion, very rarely showing up to Shibusen where she still had a duty as a teacher. During that time, she did some things she isn't exactly proud of. Nothing horribly drastic, of course, but all the same nothing she'd consider talking to most people about. She would have told Chris, of course, but he was lying in a grave about six feet under the ground. One day quite recently, for some reason that still isn't clear to others, she showed up to work again. Consistently, no less. Now, she seems more or less recovered. The grief was still very much there, but she managed to distract herself with teaching and, when she wasn't doing that, clubbing. She's even begun to make attempts to socialize again, something she'd hardly ever done even when Chris was alive. As upbeat as she was then, she was a shy thing. It seems as though it took a tragedy to get her out of her shell, just a little. All the same, she refused to be alone. Maybe she'd have to play her own white knight again, but she wouldn't be alone. "Black Rock Shooter" - Usachii "Coloris" - She THE SECRETS I LET OUT Soul Resonance: Narukami's Strike; Sometimes, Momo will find herself fighting solo. It is in such situations that she will compress her own wavelengths to fire less powerful "shells" from her fingertip, in a move she has come to call "Narukami's Strike." The fragments of these "shells" will scatter farther, but are rather painful at close range, especially with the added factor of the electricity. Logically speaking, she can only fire about ten shots in a five minute time period; any more, and her hands will become burned with the excess of electricity being conducted through them. Resonance Name - Description Resonance Name - Description Resonance Name - Description Performance: Being a shotgun, her shells, though powerful, only have a certain range of effectiveness. Though they scatter less if she focuses harder, she can only do major damage within a few feet of something. So, she has to take advantage of the devastating power shotguns have at close-range, and the electricity from her own soul charged into the shells visibly arcing between the fragments certainly adds to their power. If enough electricity is charged into the shots, it's possible for the target to become momentarily stunned or even paralyzed. However, in order to shoot enough electricity into the target to do that, she has to be either at point-blank range or use a large amount of energy. The former is dangerous in its own right, and the latter takes a lot out of her. She can only do this about once every five to ten minutes without overheating- which can make her physically ill to the point of passing out. Long story short, she has one hell of a bite, but she has to get within a dangerous range of the enemy to really make them hurt. She has to move fast or, if in the hands of a meister, be used very carefully. THE PUPPETEER Name: Moxy Age: 16 years old RP Experience: About seven or eight years. Password: Can't stop takin' those prisms of light, man. RP Sample: It had been a rather long day at work, today, or at least it seemed that way. Test days were just the worst for everyone. The students were obviously stressed out, for the most part, and she was always horribly bored for the hour they were testing in. She could find reprieve in the few that managed to finish early, grading their tests merely to escape the all-consuming boredom that came on to her with its wicked claws. However, in addition to it being a long day at work, it was also a Friday. Fridays were rather special to her, in that she could stay out all night and not have to worry about getting up in the morning for anything. And what did she stay out all night for, exactly? Why, dancing, of course! She'd go to whatever club she could find in Death City and dance the night away to booming beats and pounding feet. It was utterly intoxicating, and every night she was glad to be there. All of her problems of the day, the week, were just washed away in the stream of strobe lights. So it was no wonder why there was such a bounce to her step that went click-clack down the sidewalk in her knee-high, lace-up boots on two-inch heels. Sure, they might sound dangerous, but she'd put these shoes through the works enough times by now to know that they were perfectly safe. She was practically buzzing with excitement as the club came into view, even if she could hear the bass some time before then. Click-clack, click-clack went her shoes as she hurried up her pace. It was still pretty early in the night, so there weren't that many people in line. She had to get in there before anymore people showed up! As she stood in the line- which, as she had thought, had already begun growing out behind her- she wore the biggest smile on her face. She could hear the music from out here. Her hips swung a little in time with it; a thing that was normal out here, so close to the entrance, as she could spot at least ten other people who were doing the same thing. These clubs were always where she felt most at home, especially since home was so empty now. Normally, she would promptly begin to lament that again, but as it turns out, the music was overpowering to sadness. She was quite pleased. A long day at work was giving in to a long night at the club. She couldn't say that she was complaining, though. Face Claim: [b]POKEMON[/b] [i]luxio[/i] Credit To: Death the Kid of SR

[JAYDEN]

Accepted!