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I made a Goddamn Ninja. Note: I made up all my stunts except Parkour no Jutsu. That's just a renamed Athletics Stunt. Name: Jo “Boo” Nin (Born Junko Ninomiya) Age: 21 MOS: Being a Goddamn Ninja Description: A young woman of indeterminate ethnic background; short, athletic, and surprisingly cheerful given the profession she was born into. FP: 3/3  Right, so I’m gonna give you the straight poo poo here. If you actually knew what ninjas were like, you’d get how rare that is. The age of the ninja is dead and buried. Sure, we’re still around, but it’s sad, they practically have us on a reservation, with little effigy-portraits of Commodore Perry in every trailer. Diabetes kills more of my clan than shuriken these days. Our fault, mostly, but we have pride, you know, so it’s not like any of the clan are gonna admit it. Lemme tell you how we got here. The Meiji Era wasn’t too kind to us. Neither was the 20th century, but that was where we get into “your own drat fault” territory. While they were castrating the samurai, a few tidy little purges wiped out most of the clans and drove my ancestors and others to flee. They settled down by the mighty Mississippi in spitting distance of New Orleans in a little town called Cherry Blossom and rebranded themselves the Great Southern Crescent Clan and started planning for our meteoric rise back into prominence in our adopted land. Yeah. So at the end of the month we take those posters of Commodore Perry hanging in our trailers and burn them in the center of the park. That should tell you how well that went. We had no contacts, no money, and worst of all, we were foreigners in a strange land so we didn’t have a chance in hell of blending in when jobs went bad. That, and we really, really bet on the wrong horse in World War I. These days, we’re lucky to get a handful of half-decent genin every generation and maybe a real ninja. Me? I’m the real loving deal. I can steal a fly’s wings without it noticing for a full day, run silently across broken glass, cut a single hair from your head with my ninjaken and leave the others untouched, and generally lie like a motherfucking rug. To put it simply, I am hot poo poo and you are not. Which is probably why the elders got it into their head that me, little Jo Nin, was something special. Hey, I don’t deny it, I am awesome. But they were saying poo poo like “child of destiny” and “future of the clan” and I was like “gently caress that noise”. So I bolted. Since then, I’ve been doing my own thing, you know, little jobs. Destiny’s not my thing, especially when the way they were talking I’d have to kill like a Chicago’s worth of important people and their goons. Don’t get me wrong; I’m a ninja, I don’t mind getting my blade wet. Just that’s a lot of loving people. So instead I send a little home every week…but the jobs have been drying up a bit lately so that’s where you come in. Aspects: High Concept: Last Hope of the Great Southern Crescent Clan Despite the fallen state of the clan, they retain a wealth of knowledge in the forbidden arts of stealth, combat, and deception that, especially to gifted individuals such as Junko Ninomiya, can still produce truly exceptional ninjas. When Jo left, the Crescent Clan of two minds; furious and heartbroken, unsure how they should react to their wayward disciple. When she began to send funds home, they decided to hold their judgment, much to displeasure of certain members of the clan who desired action. Invoke: For all things ninja: fighting, hiding, and bullshitting -- the three Ninpo, arts of the ninja. Compel: Her family back in Cherry Blossom, Louisiana had high hopes for Jo, and didn’t take it well when she struck out on her own. But, after everything, she does still feel obligated to her clan. If something ever happened to them, she’d have to help. Trouble: Hot poo poo Jo is a remarkably talented ninja, a fact that she is not only aware of, but more than willing to show others, often to her own detriment. Highly competitive from an early age, she never let her peers get the better of her--or at least not for long. Now grown, she is highly effective, if reckless in the extreme. Invoke: For showing off, or doing something with flash and style. NEVER subtle and very un-ninja Compel: She just has to show off sometimes, you know--for the clan. Phase One: I’ve Got Friends in Low Places So, for a while there I freelanced because, you know, shuriken don’t grow on trees. (That would be awesome though) Worst client? CIA. I mean, you’d think Langley would be a little easier to work with...nah, never mind, they are exactly the way I should have imagined it. Paranoid, obsessed with loyalty. Incompetent. So very un-ninja. They had me in Mogadishu retrieving a package, which, to begin with? Total bullshit! Waste of my talent, like using a katana to cut French Fries. Even worse, it was BORING; B-O-R-N-G—Wait, gently caress--whatever. A ninja knows patience. Like ninety percent of what we do is waiting around until the client shows up, then he or she gets about a foot shorter and we’re off without so much as a whisper. But that’s purposeful boredom, there’s loving anticipation there, like waiting to open your presents on Christmas and finding that oh gently caress yes mom and dad got you your first claymore kit, complete with trip wire, pressure plates, and laser trigger systems. This? Busy work! Kid stuff! So less than a minute off the plane, I infiltrated the nearest dive and decided to settle a little personal score with the local pirates by drinking them under the table. I kind of, maybe, sort of, totally got blackout-drunk and missed the handoff. I woke up around noon in the traditional ninja way; surrounded by severed hands and trying to hold my poor head together. With just a little legbreaking, I sussed out that a local gang had jumped the courier, stole the package, and dumped the poor schlub into the sea. Seeing as this was kinda, sorta, entirely my fault, and this was my first job for Langley I’d want to put my best foot forward. Not to mention Ninja Way #37: Never leave important matters unfinished. They’ll come back to bite you in the rear end later. (Loosely translated from the original Japanese by one Junko Ninomiya.) So, I batmanned it. It’s a very technical ninja term meaning that I went to the gang’s hideout, taking them out one by one, maximizing the fear of the individual and the shock impacting the group as a whole. It’s really, really fun. Just sucked that it wasn’t really worth it, because they’d already sold the drat package because it was some kind of data they couldn’t make heads or tails of. Well, after burning the place to the ground, I set out for Dubai; their buyer was just a middleman and would probably sell it there. I tried a little of the ol’ soft voice and long eyelash routine, you know, since Dubai’s basically the playground for people who buy amusement parks for birthday parties. Yeah, I fell back to the old standbys of fingerbreaking and knives before long. Uh, I was never that good at being a kunoichi. Anyway, so there we were, top floor of the Burj Dubai, just me, a scrawny white guy in a bad suit, and a couple dozen suits bleeding out on the nice carpet. He hands over the package without a fuss and I open it—inside was a flash drive and a note. Get this; the note read: Congratulations! You have passed the Central Intelligence Agency Mission Dedication trial! This is the first of twenty such--” I threw the case out the window. The scrawny prick followed it. Don’t worry, I tied his ankle to a big four-poster. Wouldn't want Langley to get the wrong idea. Invoke: For dealing with the underworld, to name a handy contact. Compel: If Idle Hands are the Devil’s Plaything, just imagine what trouble a ninja could get into. Skills: +4: Stealth +3: Fight, Deceive +2: Athletics, Burglary, Shoot +1: Will, Lore, Crafts, Provoke Stunts: Bullshit no Jutsu Now let’s be straight here: cutting bullets with your sword? Total bullshit, doesn’t work outside of video games, movies, and import cartoons for shut-ins. However, something strange happens when a gunman runs up against a swordsman in black pajamas. They hesitate. They think, “Wait a second, I’ve got them dead to rights; one twitch away from dropping them…right? Maybe…Maybe he knows something I don’t.” Adept ninjas like Jo are quite willing to take advantage of this, and charging in to chop off the fool’s head while he’s considering all the sordid possibilities, then scattering a few bullets—cut in half, of course. Can’t hurt to do your part to keep the legend alive. Effect: For dodging projectiles, Jo may use Deceive instead of Athletics Hey, Where Did Jerry Go? Ninjas live in the shadows. They are born in shadow. Raised in shadow. Educated in shadow. The last part was especially hard, as it really puts a strain on the eyes of young genin. Nevertheless, countless hours in darkness allows one to make the night their own in a way that most cannot. A trained ninja can take advantage of this fact to put the fear of god—or at least ninja—in her foes, using stealth and misdirection. Effect: May substitute Stealth for Provoke to create fear where appropriate. Parkour no Jutsu The legends, whispered in the darkest places of the world, tell of the ninjas of old, unstoppable assassins leaping from rooftop to rooftop as if borne by the wind, ascending walls without a care, running across water, even walking through walls. Now, perhaps the stories are a bit exaggerated, but every Crescent Clan disciple undergoes rigorous physical training to ensure that they live up sufficiently to these myths so they can fake the rest. They can run across rooftops, even run up walls and across water (if they’ve set poles just under the surface beforehand). Walking through walls though? That’s just lockpicks and good old fashioned bullshitting. Effect: +2 to Athletics rolls involving overcoming obstacles. I Am Fowl fucked around with this message at 21:44 on Nov 21, 2013 |
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Nov 18, 2013 09:01
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| # ¿ Apr 29, 2024 14:39 |
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Doomsayer posted:There is a distinct lack of Well, sorry, I scrapped my 
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Nov 18, 2013 18:02
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First part of my Phase 2 with FewtureMD: "Yet To Be Named Aspect" When I was just a little genin, my momma taught me the ninja ways, like Ninja Way #4: No Plan Survives Contact With Reality. So when I went pro, I took it to heart that I'd have to improvise even when it comes to little things, like warzone extractions. Even with a deskmonkey chirping in your ear, walking you through it like it's a trip to the supermarket. This time, the monkey had a name--MODOK or BMOC or something--he had the air of "home electronics tech support guy" that a lot of career desk monkeys get. You know the type, the guys who every time weapon proficiency trials come up, they just fail the small arms practicals and they shrug and give that loving little grin. I know what you're doing Kevin, you spineless little worm. Sometimes I get real sick of this chickenshit little outfit, and I haven't even been here that long. Anyway, if he knew what I was putting in his coffee, he'd try to get out of the office more. Well, once he regains a little bone density. So back to the extraction mission. The guy was maybe a diplomat? Technician? Not one of ours or theirs, I think. Probably not. Whatever, he was there and he needed to be out. The mission specifics, however, I had down pat. The guy was holed up in his hotel under an assumed name and needed to be moved to a neutral embassy, where arrangements were made for his extraction. Just take a chubby little official and move him ten blocks; simple, I didn't even have to get him out of the country! Yeah, first off: He had kids with him. What. The. gently caress. I spent maybe a bit too long yelling at the deskmonkey for that bad briefing. Ninjas don't play that way. Had to adjust the plan; leaving kids behind looks bad. I'd have to forget about using Sigma Protocol as a future reference. We had a bit of luck; war had heated up again outside, so there was a cloud of dust and chaos to obscure our movement. Didn't help all that much in the end when a goddamn flashbang may have...sort of hit me in the head, knocking me out cold. When I came to, tubbo and his kids were gone and BMOC was still chattering away in my ear. I don't know how, but not five minutes after I was up, he found out where they had been taken. It was a bombed-out apartment building at the other end of the city. I swiped a jeep and jetted over, making the last few blocks over rooftops. When I landed on the roof of the supposed hideout, I heard the popping of bubblewrap under my feet. "Those cunning motherfuckers. Ninjapaper." That's when it all really went to poo poo.
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Nov 25, 2013 06:26
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Davin Valkri posted:But my character is already an anime And mine is a ninja! Do you think we're in trouble, Davin?
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Nov 27, 2013 16:10
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Doomsayer posted:You're lucky you drat lose cannons made it in under the deadline! I think anyone who's got a problem with Mako has a problem with me!  Also, I wish there was some kind of narrative shorthand for the motorcycle slide from Akira.
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Nov 27, 2013 19:16
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Doomsayer posted:Thinking of taking 2 and 4 out of the first column. My humble submission to the first column, because ghostriding trucks into poo poo and WWI-era Woodhouse are pretty badass:  
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Nov 27, 2013 20:22
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Captain Walker posted:How do I always manage to embarrass myself horrifically in like my third post in any game? Doesn't matter what system, genre or character. I invariably gently caress up exactly then. I call backsies on my last post, on the grounds that you didn't give us much to work with and I didn't know what was going on. I totally sympathize with you, but at the same time, but since you removed it now I don't have the opportunity to ruthlessly mock Lancehead in-game and that makes me sad.
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Dec 13, 2013 22:36
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Name: Jo “Boo” Nin (Born Junko Ninomiya) Age: 21 MOS: Being a Goddamn Ninja Description: A young woman of indeterminate ethnic background; short, athletic, and surprisingly cheerful given the profession she was born into. FP: 3/3 High Concept: Last Hope of the Great Southern Crescent Clan Trouble: Hot poo poo Phase One: I've Got Friends in Low Places Phase Two: Plan B for Bomb Approaches:
Stunts
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Mar 22, 2014 00:51
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| # ¿ Apr 29, 2024 14:39 |
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Yeah, add me to the WALL OF DEATH. Boo went back to her home village. Her boat spun in. There were no survivors.
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Jun 6, 2014 19:12
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