Yaozu "Kyoudai"

[Kyoudai]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 585px,true] [atrb=width,205] [/style]	[atrb=width,370][atrb=style,padding-left: 5px; padding-bottom: 10px;] character name here male hinote tora, southern taiyoukai. 999 years old. looks mid-late twenties. his allegiance should be kinda obvious...
[cs=2][atrb=width,585] APPEARANCE SUMMARY -- Amber eyes, blonde, jaw length hair, 6'5", 240 pounds, multiple ear piercings on each ear, magic tattoos that only appear when he's enraged or using his fire abilities. DETAILED --
[cs=2][atrb=width,585] PERSONALITY STRENGTHS -- Strong willed, compassionate, empathic, fair, experienced, humorous, outgoing. WEAKNESSES -- Proud, casual, competitive, fiery, stubborn, inappropriate, sarcastic, holds grudges. DETAILED -- Kyoudai isn’t quite what one would picture for the oldest taiyoukai, let alone what one would picture for the “peacekeeper”. But Kyoudai doesn’t mind. Heck, it makes things a little more interesting. Perhaps the most obvious thing about Kyoudai (save for his massive stature), is just how relatable a man he appears to be. Instead of calling upon his vast years of experience, and considerably intellect, Kyoudai is content to address people casually. Really casually. Almost flippantly casual, in fact. Except when he’s angry, or addressed by a stranger who commands respect, Kyoudai is likely to use informal banter, and even slang and swearwords. Even more surprising, the taiyoukai is prone to crack a joke from time to time, or outright tease other people, be it his fellow taiyoukai, or a human diplomat. Few people are off limits. This, accompanied with his rather agreeable manner, have led some people to believe that he’s both stupid and weak. A dangerous mistake to make. It isn’t too be misunderstood, Kyoudai probably is the most laid back of the taiyoukais. Perhaps because he’s getting on in his years and doesn’t possess the energy he once did. Or maybe because he’s constantly remedying the situation, exasperating him to no end. Fortunately, he’s a patient man. Either way, this taiyoukai is a tough one to upset. And an even tougher one to bait into conflict. He’s most likely to just sigh and maneuver his way around the whole thing, either with a diplomatic word, a good deed, or by facepalming at walking away. He does a lot of facepalming, sighing, and walking away. In fact, he’s becoming increasingly known for it. In addition, Kyoudai is probably the most equal opportunity of the taiyoukai. Humans don’t upset him. And half demons? Well, what does he care if a human and a demon got it on? As long as the demon and humans weren’t too ugly, and didn’t do it in front of him, he’s pretty chill about it all. Humans can even be under his protection from other humans and demons alike, should they swear fealty to him. It is this lack of prejudice that has made him become known as the “peacekeeper”. And, whenever diplomacy between humans and demons is to be had, it’s frequently him at the heart of the matter, or the one that the humans petition. But for all his casualness, and good nature, Kyoudai isn’t all peaches and cream. He’s been through hell to get to his position, and knows first hand what to expect from other people. While he keeps the peace as best he can, he isn’t a naïve idiot. He knows the shit is going to hit the fan. He knows it, and he’s been preparing for it for a long time. The years past have just been about decreasing the splatter effect, and prolonging the period of peace. And when the time comes that he is spurred into action, he will not hesitate. There will be no conflict of conscience. Regardless of who it is, or how good their intentions are, he will do his duty, and massacre as many as he possibly can. He won’t allow his people or himself to be threatened. Even by his own people. Kyoudai does not take treachery very lightly. While he expects the worst in others, and is pretty empathic, he gives them a chance. Just to be fair, even if he really dislikes the person or demon in question… at least, most of the time. He isn’t perfect, you know. There are some people he just really dislikes. Those who are in his custody and defy him, those who betray him and the South will be punished accordingly. And in spite of his good nature, he will not be merciful. They will be killed without question. And those who harbor or sympathize the traitors, too, will be killed without question. And, at his root, Kyoudai is a proud, and passionate creature. For all of his ability, for all of his level-headedness, emotions still have quite a powerful grip on him. Pride is the forerunner of his problems, crafted by emotions. Perhaps it is because of his feline nature, or perhaps it is because of his lofty position. Either way, Kyoudai is not one to possess low self esteem. When he’s good at something, he knows he’s good at something. When he’s victorious, he’ll revel in it. Especially with friends--then he just outright brags, or teases them for their failure. Pride also drives him to be less fair, in circumstances, than he should be. If he himself is betrayed or harmed in any way, be it emotional or physical, the chances of him forgiving that person, even if it’s in his best interest to do so, are slim. His pride also drives him to be hard on himself. When he fails, it upsets him. Even with his mother there his whole life, to support him and work that out of his system, he strives to succeed. This brings out a sense of competition, particularly with friends.
[cs=2][atrb=width,585] HISTORY FAMILY -- Xiangdai: Father (Deceased). Daiyu: Mother (Deceased). Jianyu: Brother (Deceased). Mei: Wife (Deceased). Unnamed Daughter: Deceased. IMPORTANT FIGURES -- Raijin: Ally & Friend. An adopted human child. LIFE STORY -- Kyoudai was born Yaozu, the second son, born fifty years after his elder, Jianyu, to the taiyoukai Xiangdai, and his consort, Daiyu. Originally from China, the taiyoukai and his consort were immensely powerful demons, each young, but descended from powerful families. When humans from mainland Asia first began to settle and conquer the natives of Japan, so too did the demons. Demons with any sense saw Japan as an opportunity to gain a new foothold, away from the established kingdoms and power of Asian dynasties. Xiangdai and Daiyu saw this opportunity, and went to Japan. And so, in the 4th century, AD, Xiangdai and Daiyu asserted their dominance, and through brief and bloody battles, carved out a large part of the island. The south was now theirs. Once their power had been established and unchallenged for some time, the two decided to expand their empire, cultivating the land, building a grander palace, and organizing the native demons, as well as the demons accompanying them from China. A hierarchy was established, and pacts made, oaths of fealty sworn. It was only a matter of time before the two decided it safe to produce their first heir. In their native tongue, they gave him the name Jianyu, essentially meaner shaper of the universe. It was Jianyu who was to inherit all of the Kingdom, and Jianyu who was to protect their legacy, and perhaps, even expand upon it. But only a fool was to only have one heir to such an empire. And so Yaozu was born, named to honor the ancestors before him, and to honor his elder brother. Yaozu was to serve his brother, to be his confidant, his right hand man, and his greatest asset. This was the way things were meant to be. This was what they were told. Though respect and love was given to each of the children, in abundance, the parents weren’t without their bias. For a father, the child he loves most will always be his son. For a king, the child most favored is the firstborn, the one who will hold his father’s legacy in his hand. The one who will honor his ancestors by being even greater than they, in their name. But for a mother without a daughter, the favoritism isn’t always so obvious. By the time Yaozu was born, Jianyu was no longer a child, and could no longer be given the affection of a child. Her new son, the youngest, the baby, could be. Particularly since his father’s ambitions for him weren’t nearly as great. But for all of the love they gave them, each loved in a different way. Where Daiyu was openly affectionate, Xiangdai was stern, his love quiet. It was only respect, and hope that Jianyu ever saw. And when he failed, the derision was all the greater. Jianyu often sought the love of his mother, but was never openly given it, as Xiangdai would not allow her to coddle him. And while Yaozu sought the love of his father, love was not missing in his life. Not the same way it was for Jianyu. In spite of everything, though, in spite of the clear favoritism of each parent, Jianyu and Yaozu got along famously. Perhaps it was because they knew their duty. Perhaps it was because they knew what was expected of them. When Yaozu was an infant, Jianyu would hold him and rock him to sleep. While his father did not approve of him doing a woman’s work, he held his tongue, as he approved of the pact between brothers. When Yaozu was old enough to hobble, Jianyu would always outstretch his arms, and get his brother to walk to him, each time getting further away, hoping Yaozu to make it the extra step. When Yaozu was old enough to play, when Jianyu had a free moment, they would play. And always, Jianyu would teach Yaozu all that he knew. As Jianyu grew older, his expectations were higher. His combat needed to be flawless, his knack for strategy incredible, and his mind, keen. There could be no errors, there could be no mistakes. And when their was, he was disciplined for it. Yaozu, however, did not have to aspire to such lofty heights. While his skill in combat had to be incredible, it did not have to be legendary. While his mind had to be sharp, he did not have to outwit everyone. His purpose was to be an advisor, and to serve as a warrior, a bodyguard. He was never to be heir of the South. And while his failure was always met with a sharp word, and sometimes discipline, the expectations weren’t nearly as severe. But where his expectations were lax, so too was his father’s admiration. Eager to gain his father’s love, or at the very least, respect, Yaozu spoke to his brother, his mother, and elders, digging deep into his clan. It was then that he found an ancient rite, a practice. Ritual tattooing. A symbol of his clan for millennia, ritual tattooing was not only said to be a test of endurance, and serve as a coming of age, but it was said to enhance the natural power of those who could withstand them. Learning of this secret, Yaozu returned to his brother, and told him of his intent. Jianyu was reluctant to allow his brother to do such a thing, and uncertain if it could win their father’s affection. But he did not openly object. Yaozu went to the grand vizier, and told him of his intentions. The ritual was kept a secret from Xiangdai, until the ink was concocted, and the alignment of the moon was right. It was only when Yaozu was laid on a slab of stone, and bathed in the moonlight was the taiyoukai summoned. It was already when the ink first stained his flesh that he was told. As was proper, the tools were sharpened stone, hammer, and dye--the tattoos to be pounded into his flesh. While the ritual was performed, Xiangdai held his tongue, a stern expression on his face. Flesh was torn, bloodied and bruise, up and down the length of Yaozu’s entire body, across arms and legs, side, back, and front, chest, hips and shoulders. The pain was truly excruciating, and though a scream always threatened to pry from his lips, and a tear fall from his eye, he remained perfectly still. He remained conscious. But his father was still silent. Seeking further to earn his respect, Yaozu did the unthinkable, and requested tattoos on his face and neck. The agony before paled in comparison, and in order to keep himself silent, he had to grind his teeth, bite his cheek and tongue, ‘til blood welled in his mouth. And then, the ritual was complete. His father was still silent, and Jianyu was enraged. He asked his father what he thought. His father said nothing. He asked his father if he was impressed with Yaozu, he said nothing. He asked his father if Yaozu had become a man, and still, Xiangdai said nothing. His brother had performed an immensely painful ritual, and yet, his father did not respect him. Without thinking, and maybe without caring, Jianyu yelled at the taiyoukai. This seemed to snap the taiyoukai out of his daze. Unwilling to have his own child loose such venom on him, and unwilling to let a subject undermine his authority, Xiangdai retaliated. First with words, and a millisecond later, with violence. Yaozu had violated the ritual. The ritual was only to be performed on the heir to the clan. And as impressive as his endurance was, the ritual had been sullied from the moment the hammer first struck. But the violation of the ritual was more forgivable than his eldest son’s insolence. His claws raked across his sons flesh, his eyes flashed yellow, and he snarled in the most infernal of tones. Jianyu fell back, eyes flooded with his own blood. But what was simply discipline, and a ruler’s desire to assert his authority, did not register as such to Jianyu. Though his injuries healed, his demeanor did not. He became cold, cold to his father, and cold to his mother. And though he now excelled in his studies, he did not want his father’s love or respect. Something building inside of him had been unleashed, though none in the family immediately recognized it. It was only to Yaozu that Jianyu spoke, only to his younger brother in which he confided. But his words were never telling, and their conversations always brief. The two would look at one another as their various injuries healed, as their marred faces gradually became normal. A part of Yaozu could sense something, but never what was to come. Where Yaozu looked on with anxiety, his brother looked on with rage. As the months passed, things seemed to return to normal. Jianyu was able to converse at length once more, but always seemed a little more distant to his father. This pained Xiangdai greater than he would ever admit, or express. But he could not, would not apologize for his actions, he would not show such weakness. Nor would he admit that he was in the wrong. Xiangdai’s demeanor gradually changed, though. He finally started becoming more receptive to his eldest, and more eager to bond with him, or mend what little they’d once had. But it was too late. Jianyu was already a young adult at this point, one who’d learned almost all that his father had to teach. One who no longer strived for his father’s affection. Time with his father was cut short, however. After several diplomatic attempts with the Eastern Taiyoukai had failed over a land dispute, war was imminent. Jianyu saw this as an opportunity to test his mettle, and entered the frays of the battle. Yaozu was quick to follow. Xiangdai offered Jianyu a post as a general to prove his strategic brilliance, but his eldest declined, in favor of testing his combat. Daiyu objected wholeheartedly, but Jianyu could not be swayed. And Xiangdai, in an attempt to appease his son, allowed it. And Yaozu could not be told to let his brother on alone. Little prepared them for the horrors of war. It was not simply their lives on the line--that, perhaps, they would have been able to handle. It was the lives of each other, and the lives of those around. Allies. And while the deaths of allies weighed heavy on their hearts, the deaths of enemies sometimes left the most impact. War was indiscriminate. And what war did to people was illuminating. On the battlefield, something came over Jianyu. It was not a simple adrenaline or anxiety. It wasn’t even a slight giddiness. On the field of battle, Jianyu reveled. His strikes were quick and without mercy, his mind always keen. And Jianyu didn’t just revel in the victory. There were times when he would lose himself in the violence of the moment. Yaozu could seem him expressing something deep within, a rage, or maybe something else that had laid dormant. But Yaozu said nothing, for he remembered what Xiangdai had done, and thought it a natural expression of something. The East, desperately outnumbered, began to resort to dirty tactics. Comrades and enemies fell in droves. So did civilians. Children? They would go when settlements were lit ablaze. The South did not like this at all, and retaliated. The only problem was, they sank to even greater depths. Whether the orders were issued by one of the generals, or by Xiangdai himself, it was always unclear. Yaozu was hesitant to place blame on any party, but Jianyu was insistent that their father was responsible. Some of the atrocities commit by the South were unspeakable. Nothing was to stand in the way of their victory--even if they had to lower themselves to the level of the East to do it. And then, at last, after months of truly horrific tactics by the South, and a great loss of men, the East conceded. The land was handed over the South, and victory was had. But it didn’t feel like victory. When Yaozu, Jianyu, and the rest of the army returned, there was no rest to be had. Instead, there was this lingering anxiety, one that could not be placed. Even as Xiangdai congratulated his troops for a job well done, and commended both of his sons for their bravery, things did not ease. The war was not over. As Xiangdai continued, a wave of arrows erupted from the crowd of “loyal” soldiers, aimed straight at the Taiyoukai. The real war had just begun. Confused, Yaozu turned to Jianyu, who seemed oddly calm about the whole thing. When their eyes locked, Yaozu knew of Jianyu’s intentions. He knew what his brother was planning, and what he’d already done. Yaozu, trained to be loyal to his brother, to obey his brother’s every command without question, was at a crossroads in his life. There was no clear answer to anything. There was no moral choice, no honorable choice. His father’s actions towards his brother were extreme, yes, and so were the expectations, but to attack him unprovoked? Frozen in place, Yaozu watched the battle raged around him. It was a cry of a woman that spurred him to action. His mother. What did Jianyu plan to do to Daiyu, their mother? Jianyu’s cold expression did not lead him to believe he had any room for mercy. Would he strike her down if she resisted? He didn’t want to find out. While the castle was besieged, Yaozu went directly to his mother, and retrieved her. Distraught, she was insistent that she remain behind with Xiangdai, but with some insistence, he was able to convince her it was time to leave. The two escaped, and he hid her far from the castle grounds, in an abandoned home deep within the forest. It was there that his mother talked with him. It was there that she plead for him. She and Xiangdai were growing long in tooth, and she knew that, in spite of her husband’s pride, he was becoming old, and weak. There was no way of telling how long the castle’s defenses would hold, and how well the loyalists would be able to defend Xiangdai from the rebels. If peace could be reached, she wanted him to barter with his brother, and make him see reason. But if the worst were to happen… Jianyu, as much as she loved her son, was in the wrong. His attack was in cold blood, and spoke of nothing but his contempt for his father. A man who, while harsh, still cared for Jianyu. Reluctantly, Yaozu turned to her side, and moved to return to the castle. When he returned, the castle guards and remaining soldiers that were loyal to Xiangdai had forced Jianyu and his army back, but the battle was still raging, and the castle was badly damaged. It was not immediately clear if his father or brother were still alive. Under the cover of darkness, Yaozu entered the castle. But he arrived too late. In the throne room, his father lie on the floor, with his injured brother lording over him, blade in hand. Jianyu turned to his younger brother, and petitioned him. In the calmest of voices, he proceeded to tell Yaozu how his actions were justified. He claimed he had proof that his father was personally responsible for some of the atrocities commit against the East. He claimed that his father was a mad man, and in order to serve the South and all of demonkind, Jianyu had to kill their father. He told Yaozu that they both knew that it was the case, that their father’s behavior ever since their childhood only reinforced the facts. But the only fact reinforced to Yaozu, was that his brother was mad. Though his voice was initially calm, it became impassioned. It was evident that something inside of his brother had snapped the day his father laid a hand on him. But now it was evident that he was never quite right to begin with. The way he reveled in battle, and adored the letting of blood did not seem consistent with his claim for higher moral ground. It seemed hypocritical. As did his willingness to destroy his father in such an honorless way, while he claimed that he was motivated by duty, and the honor that came with it. And he was truly mad if he thought he could make Yaozu see reason while their father’s body was in full view. Yaozu, in spite of the madness, in spite of everything, tried to reason with his brother. While the expectations of the people would be for Jianyu to be executed, should the loyalists prove victorious, they would respect the wishes of their new taiyoukai. His mother did not wish him to die unless absolutely necessary. What fate would befall him exactly, Yaozu did not know. Yaozu spoke of the uncertain climate of the battle outside, and the other armies of those allied to Xiangdai, who would not take his son’s treachery kindly. He spoke of the will of the people, and how, while they might have disagreed with Xiangdai’s rule, that a violent takeover would divide the South further. Revolutions, even successful, were often followed by civil wars. But his brother would not listen to reason. Though every fiber of his being screamed in protest, Yaozu pulled out his blade. His brother was shocked, and aggrieved, and once more tried to win Yaozu over to his side. As much as Yaozu wanted to concede, and much as he desperately wanted a reason to be with his brother, he remained opposed. When it became clear that Jianyu would not sway his younger brother, his madness worsened, all at once. He screamed like a wild beast, howling in inhuman anguish. Yaozu approached, slowly, gradually. When he drew near enough, Jianyu threw some wild strikes, but his arcs were parried. Though the eldest had the superior combat skill, he could not motivate himself to fight. Yaozu finally grew close enough that, Jianyu unleashed a final attack. He pounced on his brother, and tore into him. Teeth, claws, and sword, all were used. Yaozu was stabbed through the shoulder, and his chest was torn open. While the younger brother struggled to get Jianyu off of him, he gradually reached for his sword that had skid away, before he finally got it. And then, with a slip of his wrist, Jianyu was impaled. Death seemed to bring his brother some clarity. While Yaozu held his brother in his arms, Jianyu spoke of the time they had shared, and told him, that, on some level, he’d done it for him. It was not long after that he passed. In a catatonic like state, Yaozu stumbled out into the battle field, flames licking behind him with each step, and announced his victory. At first, none could hear, and each time, it grew louder, til the declaration was a roar as his body shifted into his true form. The main battle war over. Skirmishes lasted for weeks afterward. Daiyu returned to the castle, and ordered the leaders of the movement be executed without mercy or pity. The soldiers involved would be shown leniency, should they swear fealty to the new Taiyoukai. Most of the common men accepted--it was not Xiangdai they were swearing fealty to, after all. Daiyu was ushered in as the new Taiyoukai. The aftereffects of the failed revolution were felt for some time. Yaozu never returned to the way he was before. He became dark, and jaded, with a strong helping of cynicism. Sarcasm was wielded with deadly accuracy to serve as a shield for his grief. Though his mother asked him many times, he never told her the details of the battle with Jianyu. Seasons passed, and seasons turned into years. Slowly, but surely, the South was able to recover from the wound of two wars. The cosmetic damages were repaired long before the feeling of anxiety left the territory. But the unease did eventually leave. Daiyu, stronger than most believed, ruled very well, and helped placate those who had been concerned with her husband’s ruling. After enough time, Daiyu began to groom her only remaining son for the responsibilities of leadership. Already groomed to by his brother’s confidant, Yaozu adapted quickly to what little schooling remained. Daiyu was a better teacher than his father had ever been--and certainly more supportive. It was not long before Yaozu was helping make large political decisions on behalf of the South, or flying solo for diplomatic missions. Yaozu was quick to master most every talent expected of him. But there was still one sacrifice he would have to make in order to become ruler of the South. Marriage. Arranged marriage. But for all of his duty and honor, the heir of the South was not particularly keen on the idea, and jokingly suggested a “harem” instead. His mother sighed exasperatedly at the idea, and insisted that it was what was best for the South, and that an arranged marriage would have political advantages, as well. Yaozu sighed and asked if he could have a harem on the side. This time, his mother lightly smacked him. And with a final, deep sigh, he resigned, making an offhanded comment about how he hoped his wife would at least be pretty. Daiyu arranged Yaozu to wed Mei, the daughter of an elderly oujayoukai, whose family commanded vast riches, and held a grand estate. Mei’s family had long since held lands near the South, and Daiyu saw the opportunity to expand the South’s holdings through a peaceful way. Mei’s father saw an opportunity to merge with one of the most powerful and influential demon families in all of Japan. Both were pleased with the arrangement. Even Mei herself seemed particularly receptive. Which made Yaozu the odd man out. He only had the opportunity to see her once before their wedding day, and while beautiful, Yaozu found that he didn’t much care for her. Yes, she was doting. Yes, she was polite. But she was so… boring. There was no strength, no light, no intellect. Whenever they conversed, she always seemed to prefer to let him speak, and otherwise she held her tongue. For as beautiful as she was, he couldn’t even feel an attraction to her. And friendship? She was a nice girl, but… that was it. And love? That was ruled right out. Producing heirs from such a union would be… difficult, at best. The time came for their wedding, and Yaozu was far from thrilled. Nonetheless, he followed the traditions and married Mei. Their honeymoon was… awkward. And rather than doing his civic duty and helping to produce an heir, Yaozu lied on the bed next to her, dismissed her advances, and tried to engage in a conversation. There was none to be had. The return to the Southern Castle was just as awkward. Days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and Yaozu found that he knew next to nothing about his wife. And, on a good day, he’d exchange about twenty words with her. Finally, after six months, Mei’s mother came to visit the castle, and discussed with Mei, in private, why she’d yet to become pregnant. Yaozu was curious if the girl could say more than a few words at all, and doing the improper thing, eavesdropped. What he found was incredible. Mei was not the borderline mute he’d thought her to be. In private, her voice wasn’t nearly as soft as it was with him. There was a strength, a resonance to her voice, one that commanded respect. Why had he yet to hear that? Further, she wasn’t a dimwit, either. She was intelligent. Her tale to her mother masterfully sidestepped the root of the problem, and was eloquent to boot. Before he could be discovered, he fled the scene, but not without taking what he’d seen to heart. Once Mei’s family had passed, Yaozu confronted her. Eager to maintain his façade, he first began to ask her about a variety of topics. Her responses were always evasive, and nondescript, as if to please him. No luck. No matter what angle he tried from, she didn’t seem to say much of anything. Thoroughly bored, Yaozu asked her if she cared about anything at all enough to say more than a few words. This seemed to fluster her otherwise stoic visage. Striking while the iron was hot, as it were, he pressed her, asking if she was duplicitous, as only a woman with an ulterior motive would not wish to share her thoughts with her husband. And then she spoke so eloquently. She’d keep her lips tight because that was what most men wanted, and it was her duty to please him. She thought by, preening and posing that she could make him happy, and their marriage, while silent, would be a good one. Yaozu hadn’t been so thrilled in such a long time, and decided to argue with her about the matter, ceasing the opportunity while he had it. All the while, he noticed something. In the argument, the way she held herself was regal. The resonance of her voice was strong, and commanded respect. Her voice itself had him hinged on every word. And the way her lips moved when she spoke… was quite hypnotic. He was attracted to her. Not for her beauty. Not for her nature, as he still knew very little of her, but for her voice. Once the argument was over, Yaozu didn’t ask, but rather, commanded that his wife continue to express herself openly. She seemed rather surprised, as the debate was semi-hostile, but heeded his request. The next several days were far less boring. While Yaozu still attended to a multitude of political affairs, when they were done, he now had something to do, besides putter around the castle. Their conversations were much more civil than their first, even when they disagreed and debated on a matter. Instead of him simply talking about himself, he asked her about herself. The next several weeks followed this pattern, until he found himself spending as much time with her as he did attending to political matters. He wasn’t just attracted to her--he liked her. Around a month of constant conversing, and over half a year of actual marriage, the two finally consummated their relationship. Multiple times, in fact. This was a relief to Daiyu, whose days were numbered. Before she passed, she wished her son to, at the very least, produce an heir. Approximately a year into the marriage, Yaozu’s mother passed quietly in her sleep. She, like Xiangdai, had been old when she’d had her children, and now that everything was as it should be, she felt it was time to surrender to nature. Yaozu had sensed it coming, and though he was slightly aggrieved, as most are when they lose their mothers, he’d had a long time with her. And a peaceful death was always easier to accept than a violent one. Her death helped usher in her only son. The whole of the South seemed to be torn over her passing, but remembered her fondly. There were no struggles for power, no protests over her son’s inheritance, but rather, a hope that her son would continue her good work. They were very receptive of Yaozu’s coming to power. On one condition. As the culture of Japan surged and developed, his Chinese name, though pronounceable, alienated him from his people. With his vizier’s suggestion, Yaozu took the name of Kyoudai. Kyoudai and Mei ruled over the South for some time, without any protest. They forged new relations, not only with demons in other territories, but with the very humans occupying their land. In an unprecedented decision, Kyoudai decided that the humans who swore fealty to him would have his protection. This drew some protest from demons, but as it required humans to be loyal, it wasn’t not as contemptible as some made it out to be. It also didn’t interfere with demonic activity… for a while. But humans became savvy. Those that were being attacked by demons in Kyoudai’s territory swore fealty to him. It was his duty to protect them from the demon’s at their door. In order to combat this, Kyoudai sent out letters and loyalists, making it clear that certain individuals were not to be attacked. But this was protested, as the demons continued to murder those humans under his care, claiming that it was difficult to identify them. Humans and Kyoudai alike developed a plan, though. Entire villages would swear fealty from him, and reap the rewards of his protection. Any demon to attack a human in one of the villages, or within a certain radius of the village, would be severely punished. This was when the real protest began. Demons, content to rob humans of their lives without mercy or question, or simply treat humans poorly, felt that Kyoudai was providing the humans too much protection, while giving them too little. Kyoudai tried to reason with the demons, claiming that there were growing villages of demon slayers, that the humans vastly outnumbered demons, and that, by forging alliances with humans, they could use the humans for aid, and for their benefit when the time came. Several demons took that to mean that Kyoudai was fearful of humans. Political movements began. While no rebellions were to be had, demons under his care began to question his intentions, and resist his authority. Unable to allow such open insubordination, and unable to come across as weak, particularly to the new humans in his care, Kyoudai upped the penalty. Demons who attacked humans under his care would be executed. Those who harbored these demons would be executed for sympathizing with them, and breaking the laws. There was more protest, but after several public state executions, the political movement died down. But the ramifications remained. Some were still unhappy with Kyoudai’s actions, and without an heir in his name, he appeared weak. Confused as to why his wife of many years had yet to become pregnant, Kyoudai spoke with demon shamans, and human medicine men alike. There were a multitude of tests done, and both told him that his wife was, more than likely, incapable of conception… but all seemed hesitant to tell him this. But Kyoudai didn’t believe this. Rather, he believed that he was impotent, and they lacked the courage to tell their lord that he wasn’t capable of producing children. Most would certainly regard that as a slight. So, armed with his conclusion, and eager to help smooth over lingering tensions, Kyoudai consumed some herbs and did a variety of activities designed to increase his virility. A month or two afterwards, his wife became pregnant. The two rejoiced, and both thought that Kyoudai’s assumption was true--that he was impotent. Amid her pregnancy, Kyoudai found himself becoming even fonder of his wife. While he’d grown to love her years ago, the prospect of having a child with her was one that made him reevaluate everything. One that made him feel even closer to her. The territory took his wife’s pregnancy as a good sign, and tensions gradually lessened with each day her stomach swelled, until, into the third month, things became quiet. Eager to spend time with his wife, Kyoudai passed several duties off onto his vizier, and he and Mei delved into diplomatic matters--or, rather, were on a vacation disguised as being diplomacy. The two would visit each of the territories and spend time there, relaxing. Of the territories they visited was the North. It was in the North that they spent the bulk of their time, as it was the North that was the South’s greatest ally, even with the distance between them being an inconvenience. The North had been a friend of the South since Kyoudai’s father was in power. When Kyoudai was a young adult and when Daiyu was in the North, being diplomatic, Kyoudai would sometimes come with her. On the first visit, Kyoudai was pawned off on the heir of the North, Raijin. Raijin and Kyoudai got along famously, and Kyoudai treated him in a fashion similar to how Jianyu had treated him, when he was Raijin’s age. Even as the two of them got older, and saw each other less, their bond was still strong. Kyoudai was still proud to call Raijin his friend. Especially when he could mooch off of the North’s hospitality. Just before Mei reached the middle of her third trimester, though, Kyoudai and Mei bid the North farewell, and returned to the South. It was Mei’s eighth month, and the two of them were debating, in length, about the name of their child, when it happened. Mei’s brow furrowed, and blood stained her kimono, and then the floor. Kyoudai, distraught, cradled his wife in his arms and carried her to any and all in the castle with medical knowledge. An area was cleared, and the Kyoudai stayed by her side. The bleeding worsened, no matter what the doctors present did. After the second hour, Mei was growing pale, and Kyoudai was pulled aside. In a hushed tone, the doctor told him that he would have to choose between the life of his child, and the life of his wife. Enraged, Kyoudai pulled the doctor up by the collar, and told him to “save her” “no matter what”. Primitive operations were performed to stop the bleeding, but the bleeding never stopped. Mei’s body paled ‘til it was a shade of white, and her hand, in his, became cold. In their final moments, Kyoudai pressed his lips against her brow, and told her that everything would be okay. Eight hours after the blood first appeared, Mei, and Kyoudai’s premature daughter, both passed. The devastation he felt was greater than any before or since. It’s been a little over two hundred years since his wife passed away, and though he had come to terms long ago, he still has yet to take a new wife, or feel the same way about anyone else. While this has drawn some anxiety from his supporters, as he lacks a sufficient heir, none dare speak about it in his presence. And with the modern era being what it is, Kyoudai already has his hands pretty full.
[cs=2][atrb=width,585] ABILITIES There is a reason that Kyoudai has held onto the South for so long. And we aren’t just talking about his dazzling smile. Fire Power: In the literal sense. While he was originally trained to serve instead of rule, he was trained also to be his brother’s most powerful warrior, and bodyguard. Mix this with just shy of a millennia’s worth of practice, and magical tattoos that enhance the user’s abilities, and what do you got? A helluva powerful elementalist. In addition to being capable of doing TRULY incredible things with the element of fire, Kyoudai is also immune to fire, can breathe in smoke, and withstand intense heat. We’re talking lava worthy. As such, engulfing himself, and even his massive true form in fire, isn’t an issue. True Form: Remember Sesshoumaru’s dog form, and how massive it was? Well, he was a dog. Compare a dog’s size to the size of a Bengal tiger, and what do you expect? Something HUGE. Strength: Well, he is a tiger demon… and better still, a taiyoukai. That kinda means that he could eat pretty much any demon for breakfast. Strength wise, he’s probably only rivaled by the Western Taiyoukai. Speed: Again. Tiger. Demon. Taiyoukai. Fast. He isn’t the fastest demon around, certainly, as tigers aren’t the fastest creatures. Even as a taiyoukai, he wouldn’t command the greatest speed. But, he’s still damn fast. Epic Constitution: Accelerated healing factor out the wazoo. The only thing truly impossible is regeneration of limbs or organs. Obviously, poisons designed specifically for demons would still be an issue, but being a taiyoukai, his constitution is better than most demons. Epic Endurance: Very hard to damage. Except for those pesky sutras and holy objects. Skill: Being a taiyoukai, and being trained to be his brother’s bodyguard, Kyoudai is pretty skilled. Warfare helps. Still, as Kyoudai is not the most violent demon around, even though he’s been training consistently, there’s a difference between training and straight up combat. He’s skilled, yes, but rusty, and most of his practice is just that—practice. There are bound to be better combatants.

ROLEPLAYER INFO

NAME/ALIAS -- El.
YEARS RPING -- You already know me! ;D
BEST WAY TO CONTACT -- Blah.
OTHER INFORMATION -- See: Reishou.

ROLEPLAY SAMPLE

ADMIN. I am immune!