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 We are ... the VARIAAAAAAAAA!

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Scherzo Rosso
Varia Leader

Posts : 14
Join date : 2010-02-27

PostSubject: We are ... the VARIAAAAAAAAA!   Sun Feb 28, 2010 5:11 am

(Only about 2300 words ... not my best work, but I hope it'll be okay)

All non-english words are Italian and have been roughly translated, if you happen to speak the language, please PM me and give me a correct(assuming if they are incorrect) spelling. ^^;; It would be greatly appreciated.

Character name: Anima Cremisi(Crimson Soul)

Code name/Alias/Nickname: Angel Scura('Dark Angel') / Giocatore D'azzardo('Gambler') / Il Favorito Di Fortuna('The Favorite of Luck')

Weapon Name: Dadi di Diavolo - 'Dice of Devil'

Ability name: Apocalisse - Apocalypse

Flame: Storm.

Desired Rank: Commander for the time being; The Ultimate Player at Chance

Desired Family: Varia!

Age: 23

Character Appearance: A strange young man who seems to dress casually regardless of circumstance ... except, possibly, at funerals, weddings, and important 'official' meetings. Besides the classic black and trenchcoat outfit that is donned, he tends to just stick to blue jeans and some kind of tee-shirt and sometimes with shoes(sometimes with sandals). This really upsets the stiffer higher-ups due to his seemingly nonchalant style of clothing, even when on missions.

However, he's never seen without a jacket(possessing a hood) or cloak(depends on whether he's out in public or out on a mission). And tends to keep his face concealed. His hair is bleached white, (shockingly XD), and spiked upward ... giving the appearance that he has been terrified out of his wits. His hazel eyes tend not to give out disparaging or even harsh looks, but his face usually remains expressionless. He has a small horizontal scar across his left cheek, from a prior wound in his earlier life(see Background for more info). Beyond that, his body isn't marred too much. He's also got something of a stub on the bottom of his chin.

One last detail is that he's always carrying a bag ... sometimes he carries weapons in there(not his usual ones), sometimes explosives, sometimes bricks(so as to use the bag as a weapon XD), or even at times, it's empty. But, he ALWAYS has it.

His specialized weapon is a set of dice(13 of them) kept in his pockets. A interesting trinket that he commonly uses(See personality and the near-end of the Background for more info) is a 1974 US Quarter. An antique in this new age.

Character Personality: An enigma within himself, Anima's personality is nothing more than a fabricated lie, just like his identity is. He abandoned his name and previous life, in exchange for Anima Cremisi, and normally asks friends to refer to him by last name. But that brings us to the next point ... he tries to make ... MANY friends.

For an elite assassin, he's very chatty. In fact, he's talkative to the point that he jeopardizes missions that he attends, but makes up for his amiable gregarious personality with a ruthlessness towards enemies and targets. What seems most interesting is that he has brought to the Varia a sense of reasonability. He no longer enforces that 90% success rate requirement for Varia missions, and allows the members to take missions of any kind, so long as they are willing to perform it. However, failure means death, and Anima does not spare sympathy for those who fail, especially when they can choose missions more suited to their talents.

Back to that ruthlessness. It seems rather generic, for people that is. A nice cheery person with a dark side hidden from plain sight. Well, these two are offset by his love of games of chance ... and adherence to the laws of fate. He hesistates NOT in offering wacky wagers, utilizing multiple dice and a coin. Everything from kicking down a door(or opening it), to decapitating the target(versus poisoning them), to choosing to escape from a window (against to blow a hole in the ground). And whatever luck demands him to do, he carries it out to the letter, regardless of the conditions. Many times, he even offers his enemies or friends choices(usually with the coin).

Ultimately, he's a foolish man(at first appearance) who seems to have an extraordinary love of gambling(and cheap alcoholic drinks, as he says he can barely pay his bills). But deep down, beneath the exterior is a fierce-hearted young man who is loyal to those who he trusts or those who he loves.

One final note about his personality: He loves to break custom, for strange reasons. This includes the breaking and doing away with the Varia success rate requirement. As well as trying to maintain good relations with the Vongola Family Head. Ever since Xanxus, the Varia had always acted independantly and sometimes even against the Vongola, Anima tries to make things different, as he doesn't like the idea of the elite team being seperate from the family it had come from.

Character Background: Anima ... soul. Cremisi ... crimson. The 'Crimson Soul'.

Perhaps the best explanation for the violent background of this poor fellow. Born to a mere underling of the Mist guardian of the Vongola, this child really never knew the love of a parent, not that it bothered him any.

But that empty childhood was what eventually lead him to throw away the identity tied to it. He was, unlike his father, skilled. His deceased mother would have been proud, for he was far greater than that man who was his parent would ever be. His proficiency at combat, both armed and un-armed, did not go unnoticed. It did not take long before he was thrown into training (and at a fairly young age) so as to become an assassin, and perhaps join the ranks of the Varia(albeit, one of the many underlings).

At the age of 13, discarding away innocence, Crimesi engaged in his first task as an underling. The dispatch of a traitorous family member who intended to sell off secrets of the Vongola. The young one took to this mission gleefully, happy to finally find some combat experience.

He looked strange, dressed in a black outfit that was more fit for a funeral. Really, he should have chosen to dress like other casual teenagers than this ridiculous outfit, but NOOOOOOO he was going to gun down a traitor, and while the target was a traitor, he was also a former Vongola, which meant a certain amount of respect shown for the soon-to-be-dead.

"Blegh, damn these ancient customs in a new age ..." he cursed to himself. Making sure that his knives were secured in his brestpocket. It was strange how, with guns being available, he always favored the more classic and older weapons. But then again, he loved the feel of the bladed weapons.

The assassin-in-training's mind snapped back to attention, the target was less than a few meters away, and yet he was still walking calmly ahead towards that man. The boy made no move to grab ahold of his knife, and continued walking forward, eyes hidden by the inconspicuous shades that were a bit large upon his face.

But he didn't know what gave him away. Something must've been wrong for the target to react so.

A wail and a gibbering plea for the boy to stay away, followed with a bit more firm threats upon seeing the appearance of the child. The young one paid no heed, much to his chagrin as a bullet was shot at him, a warning shot that grazed the left side of his face. And the boy dropped down, stricken with panic as the crimson fluid spilled to the ground.

People screaming, a few cell-phones were opening, the sound of the target cursing.

He paid no heed, preferring instead to rush forward. His knives were drawn, three of them.Three streaks of grey metal flew about, each one striking their target dead on. The first impaled the hand of the target, which clutched the trigger once more, but fired aimlessly into the sky ... the second struck right into the gun, knocking out of the hand. The target groped from the weapon with his other hand, and his head aligned itself with trajectory of the third knife, which cleanly struck and pierced through the thick skull of the target ... who promptly fell over.

The boy did not feel pleasure in kill, he was still a little bit ashamed to have been shot.

'This was supposed to be easy, damn it'

Being wounded, and also having a scar to serve as a reminder ... awoke something else in the boy. He realized that, no matter how well he was doing now, he could always be ... better. That although perfection was unobtainable, he could aim to be closer to it than anyone else could. And his want to become the best assassin, after this humiliating mishap(which soon spread about as rumors in the underground), burned even more.

He no longer wished to be associated with his father. But, splitting ties was going to be difficult. He couldn't just walk out of the house, could he? Actually, it was much easier than expected, although it took a few more years ... 5 years to be exact. In those five years, he grew into a specialist, an assassin that would willingly take on jobs and could execute them perfectly. Guns were no issue, especially not with his newfound Dying Will Flame. His Storm just decayed the firearms, and usually a hand or two. His near-perfect record for these 'ordinary' missions got the eye of the Varia along with his semi-proficient use of his Flame.

Age 18, he was given a choice. He could remain as filial son to his father, but could not further his skills. Or he could abandon his identity altogether, and join with the world's greatest team of assassins, and hopefully develop his ability. It was easy to follow his choice, but it was difficult to make it.

The youth, the teenager about to come of age, was alone at home. His mind was driven into a frenzy from the message(a letter, oddly enough) he had just gotten earlier that day. His right hand was just about to become a bloody pulp as he pounded his fist against the kitchen table, infuriated by his own indecisiveness.

'Why? Why is it so damn hard to choose?' he blurted aloud, before slumping back down into the chair, wincing slightly as whatever adrenaline had fueled him to smash his fist left ... thus letting the pain flow and become ... well ... painful. If only they had asked earlier! Those foolish people. Why did they wait until now to ask? If only they had asked earlier ... if only ... it would have been simple, then. Yes, no questions asked. But now, he was hesitant to just leave home.

He banged his head against the table, once, with a heavy 'thump'. His own mind still weighed the choices out, and it was getting even more difficult to reason to himself to leave. Until he got a glimpse of it ... a coin. He had no idea why it had struck his interest ... until he found himself gazing at the piece of metal sitting atop the table. And hoarsely, after the earlier moments of fevered blaring, he laughed to himself. The thoughts in his mind made him giddy, until he was roaring with it ... why, he wasn't sure. But ... it made him feel better.

"So I'm to leave this to chance, ey? Well, then Signora." he grinned, referring to some strange metaphysical being whose will dictated fate, "I suppose you'll be telling me what to do"

With another loud bang, he slammed his hand upon the coin. Why he was acting so violent that night, he would never know, but ...

"Heads: I stay. Tails: I leave." he muttered, flipping the coin into the air. With a silent smile, he watched the coin flip over a few times in the air, before it landed into his outstretched right(but bloodied)palm. With a solemn moment, as though he was praying for an outcome ... he flipped the coin over and placed it against the top of his left arm ... and waited. Waiting for something, but he wasn't sure what. Was it wrong that he was treating such a matter with a simple flip of a coin? A game of chance? His fingers pried off of his arms.

"Ah ... so that's how it'll be?" he said aloud, for no one but the Goddess to hear

He left. Without a moment’s hesitation, he packed up what little belongings he had. But before he left, he made a few efforts to change his appearance. One, he bleached it ... so that the once-brown hair was now a rather interesting white, or other pale color. He also cut off some of it, as it was getting a little bit long and overdue for the scissors. His small bag carrying a single change of clothes and whatever weapons he owned was strapped about his shoulders as he proceeded out of the door ... only to stop. Again, he was unsure about this, but then again, he had swore to himself to obey whatever fate wanted him to do ... .. Ultimately, he wanted to disappear for good, but he left behind a note. One last reminder to the world he had come from. That farewell message was pinned to the back of the front door with one of his few knives, with the Varia's invitation behind that.

It was signed, but neither in his name nor in ink. Rather, in his blood and with the name ... Anima Cremisi.

The rest of Anima's history is an accumulation of numerous stories, myths, lies, slanders, and reports. He spent the past five years as one of the Varia, though he was by no means, a key player. It was during these five years in which his skill as an assassin grew to new heights that he developed and matured his love of games of chance. He even carries that small coin with him, which was(strangely) U.S. currency ... a quarter, it was called.

About two years ago, he became an officer-agent of the Varia, pretty damn young one too(Age: 20 to 21). His skill as an assassin are amongst the many legends of the Varia, as well as his mastery of his Flame ... but what seems to attract the attention of more people than either of those two facts is his personality: His likeable, talkative and seemingly gentle self, that hides the bloodied identity far more malevolent than imaginable.
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Millefiore XV/The Sky Funeral Wreath

Posts : 51
Join date : 2010-02-16
Age : 24
Location : Finland

PostSubject: Re: We are ... the VARIAAAAAAAAA!   Sun Feb 28, 2010 11:14 am

Totally approved.
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