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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.68 m
Wingspan
6.76 m
Weight
576.69 kg
Genetics
Coal
Skink
Skink
Garnet
Trail
Trail
Ginger
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Wildclaw
Max Level
STR
8
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
Kiseru the Shieldwall
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Base Appearance
 Akaneiro Casual  Traveling Attire  |
  
K I S E R U
[ku-sari]; weaponized chain
How I regret my fallen friends
How I despise my foes And, tired of life, I only seek To reach my long day's close, And gain at last repose.
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weaponry
 
apparel
  
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As beautiful as blood, as unbreakable as garnet.
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Kiseru Akaneiro
与太者 | スパイ | 踊り子
vagabond | protector | yakuza
"Soldiers like us,
we're more ghosts than people, but the clock hasn't run out on them. They could be something more." An irrepressible vagabond with a flirtatious quirk of teeth, ready to drag any unsuspecting victims to the underworld with him. A relentless follower, the weight of his decisions lies in anyone's hands but his own: never bothering to ask questions before doing what must be done. The worst of his critics might call him a heartless brute, but for those masochistic enough to break through that outer shell, the depths of his kindness are near boundless.
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"The bond we share is the most real thing to me. I would kill for it, I would happily die for it."
    
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snapshot ❧run the clock but don't surrender to the creatures of the night The broken remnants of a wayward soul stalk in the clawprints of loved ones, the deep gemstone feathers dragged behind dripping with blood. The fiery warmth of a crooked smile promises the world to anyone who looks upon it, shrouding an utter apathy toward any aside those deemed worthy of his unthinking devotion. identity ❧ if you want me gone you've gotta pull the trigger yourself At first glance a rakish, always-smiling presence, his true loyalty belongs to those he loves more fiercely than any man should. The weight of a single mistake has sanctioned off his heart to the outside world, leaving him unable to prioritize anyone who isn't nearest to his affections. To those nearest to him, however, his lazy smiles hold an unimaginable warmth just as strong as his willingness to break the fingers of anyone who might bring them harm. Ever a dutiful son, this often means striking striking fear into his family's enemies and breaking the fingers of anyone who might question them. physical ❧ keep pushing me til you bring out the devil Kiseru's very being emanates the power of a life lived with enough restraint to pour the whole of his energy into becoming the strongest, largest amongst a sea of those who might threaten his loved ones. Thick planes of corded muscles twine along his massive legs. Sharpened talons spread through the dirt and slice through the ground with each heavy-footed step. Strategy and thought define the sweeping lengths of his tattoos; copious as they are, all lie hidden, dormant beneath the fabrics of his suits. They coil up his legs like the tentacles of a monstrous sea creature who has chosen to use him as its vessel upon the land. Feathers of bloody garnet adorn his wings, kept only suitable enough to not dishonor his family. Their torn and frayed edges speak of combat unhidden, of a warrior’s soul and aggression he does not seek to disguise. |
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patron goddess
mythology
dokkaebi
tattoos
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"We will burn you down and consume what remains."
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modern theme
traditional theme
dragon boat festival
taurus / tiger
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history ❧you lived your life like a man and turned into a good one Kiseru has always been a bit of a wayward soul, searching for something unreachable. From the moment he was born, the young child displayed a remarkable capacity for service and an even more tenacious penchant for giving it to those who least deserved it. Much of his childhood was spent getting into trouble and searching for a world beyond the endless oceans of the isles. These adventures screeched to a halt as his reckless decision to attack a passing corsair ship led to the death of a young kouhaku secretly sent by his parents to protect him. The traumatic encounter with his own flaws led him to make the words of his wiser, more patient family the guiding stars by which he would steer his life, for better or for worse. The fledgling effluvial still climbed and hung from every rigging, but threw himself headlong into the service of his family. Kasuri grew into a warrior who was ruthless enough to bend the world beneath the shadows of his wings and whose roughhousing and posturing drew the attention of the isles as much as his easy smile. But none could ever hold his attention for long, aside a precious few who understood the lengths to which he'd gone for the sake of righting that singular mistake. The desire to help his family had him studying at his mother's knees, learning the dirtest work of the enji. warfare ❧ battleborn, send us covered in our noble blood An effluvial crow must fight; it's in their nature. The variation is in what weapons and styles of combat they use to subdue their opponents. Kiseru utilizes a deadly combination of the precision fighting smoke dancing is known for as well with the brute force of the heavy chain attached to his Kiserugama. The chain-sickle is hardly a widespread weapon since the more ancient days of Sornieth, but within Kiseru's talons, it is as deadly as any other. The weighted chain is swung to bludgeon or distract opponents in synchronization with the magic of the Akaneiro family's stunning wings while the scythe strikes. This fighting style is particularly well-used against other effluvials or similarly resistant opponents who are immune to diseases and poisons but not to the bludgeoning power of the chain's bone-breaking force. The weight of the Kiserugama depends on the potential danger of the opponent, with the worse enemies requiring larger Kiserugama which give more striking power while leaving more openings in his defenses. This has necessitated Kiseru adapting to fight even more like a berserker than most effluvials, allowing him to take down harder opponents with the hefty risk of dying himself. As such, it's not unusual to find him being endlessly lectured after a battle while a kouhaku mends his wounds. |
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The Stories of Clan Akaneiro
Never Forget to Love the Flowers We've Buried Beneath the Smoke |
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The Legend of Kudayari This myth is inspired by the duality of Kishimoji, a figure in Japanese mythology who is known as both goddess and demon. She was a monster who slaughtered the helpless until she was made to reflect on her ways and became their protector instead. One particular tale comes from the earliest annals of Akaneiro history in the isles, from when the arrival of gemstone wings had just begun roosting in their sacred territories. Before they had earned the good will of the quiet fishing communities whose ancestries had been bound to the isles since the first seeds had begun to sprout on harsh, volcanic upspewing that would eventually become the better part of the isles. These dragons, large and small, wanted little to do with the arrival of these strange, new ancestors with their concepts of war and honor. In those earliest generations of roosted Akaneiro, before the ancient traditions had taken hold, there was uncertainty as to whom the clan would follow, the harsh, strict edits passed down by the predecessors or a new path dipped crimson with the blood of their own wisdom. Amongst the elders of the Akaneiro who had helped bring them to paradise, there were some unfaithful who saw the non-crows as lesser, that it was the edict of the Plaguemother that those not-family souls would need prove themselves capable of survival without the clan's assistance. There were even some Akaneiro who wished to claim those souls to christen their garnet wings with fresh blood. The way of things were was still uncertain, in those early days. The legends spin tales of the sacred territories being swept with a winter squall unlike any in remembered history, back when the Akaneiro were unused to frigid horrors. Bright, crystalline seas were littered with icebergs, the ever-blossoming gardens barren and coated with frost. The weather was the least of the ancestors' worries, however. The unnatural frost was the result of a mistake from the Icewarden's guardians: a dark, fell magic sweeping over the seas to allow that which was once trapped in the oceans beneath the ice flows to scrabble out across the isles' sunlit beaches. The villagers came to beg at the talons of the Akaneiro clan for protection. Some manner of corrupted beastclans had come slithering out of the sea, unchained horrors laden with shackles were ravaging along the coastline. The ancient beastclans that hauled themselves from the waves were unspeakable beyond imagining, malformed with dripping maws and other atrocities beyond recording. Both prophetic tokens had fallen on claw, said the garnet-feathered oracles. The time had come for them to wait while the fisherfolk proved themselves worthy of survival. Such an interpretation was rejected by some in the clan. A pair of identical clutchmates, the twins known as Kudaya and Ayari defied the wisdom of the Akaneiro elders to defend the fisherfolk themselves. These ancestors would become known as together as Kudayari, the many-faced union of sunlight and shadow. The legends say that Kudaya and Ayari fought for three days and four nights against endless hordes of the corrupted beastclans, until at long last Kudaya fell in battle, too grievously wounded to struggle any longer. Ayari stood alone against the heedless, unshackled demons, the shattered, scarlet heap behind her glistening under the scarlet moonlight as the night trembled with the screaming and weeping of the fisherfolk pouring from the safety of the sky-isles to join the battle in his stead, slaughtered seconds into descending upon the battlefield. The curse of an effluvial's strength is the madness that lingers in the virus that drips from their talons. That drinking of that wellspring of power steals away the sanity of even the most hardened of effluvial warrior. The shorelines teemed with unshackled demons, and Ayari descended into that wellspring with a hungry maw gaping wide to consume last drop. The corruption sank deep within her mind as the Akaneiro warrior unleashed the billowing fury of her rage. The fisherfolk legends describe Ayari as having plummeted out of the underworld to protect each small, seaside town the remainder of the night. That the mighty strike of her wings was felt across the endless expanse of the ocean, dispelling the unnatural storm and slaughtering the endless hordes beneath her claws. That when the Akaneiro elders realized what Kudayari had done, the ancient healers of the kouhaku found the broken, barely breathing form of Kudaya sheltered beneath the trembling wings of a wild creature, the sunlight reflecting off the blood that had stained the sands of the isles crimson beneath the corpses of the invaders. Kudaya would go on to become one of the greatest rulers of the early Akaneiro, risen high into the sunlight of peace with his beloved Ayari the shadow beneath his garnet wings. She resided with him in the palace, defeating all threats to the Akaneiro, until the winds of time swept him away and she became inconsolable and had to be shackled in the caverns beneath the isles, a young jackdaw servant singing to her day and night to ease her tormented soul. |
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The Legacy of Kudayari The Kudayari is a Japanese spear that was characterized by its duality, in that the spearhead was used as much as the shaft. It was a weapon of protection, which required standing side-by-side with other similar soldiers to keep standing strong together. The Akaneiro legendarium records the fervent speeches given by the pair of identical clutchmates. These speeches would become well-known to every young Akaneiro who ever asked why they needed protect those lesser than themselves. It was the responsibility of the strong to spread blood-soaked feathers over the weak, Kudaya had said, so that they might live long enough to become strong. It was only through one's willingness to sacrifice themselves for others that the depth of a crow's strength could be touched, spoke Ayari. Regardless of its historical truth, the story itself is used to impart lessons on young ones searching for answers about who they ought to be. The memory of the sacrifices that they made for those who had nothing to give them is used to teach little hatchlings the meaning of honor. Similarly, the recounting of the fisherfolk joining a hopeless battle to protect the fallen Kudaya is often cited when reminding the little effluvials to never underestimate the courage of those weaker than them. The legacy of Ayari, she who descended too far into madness to return, is remembered with as much sorrow as her twin brother is celebration. The tales of how she could destroy whole villages in her rage made her seem like a demon of the underworld, but the way she always defended the Akaneiro instead of mindlessly attacking her family, as so many given into the last throws of effluvial madness might, brings more respect than fear. Even in the depths of her madness, she was always soothed by the song of her brother, making her oft-remembered as a tale of familial duty and how far one must go to protect those that mean the most to them. Those who pay attention to the ancient legends say that she passed down her sense of honor and the resilience of her love through her surviving lineage. It is rumored that the Akaneiro effluvials descended from certain lineages related to the descendants of the Kudayari have the ability to descend deeper into the madness of the effluvial virus than other effluvials. In times of great strife, these effluvials will descend into those depths in protection of the helpless, becoming powerful enough to wipe out whole villages of lesser crows. What remains after the battle is over is a dark reflection of what the effluvial crow once was, plagued by paranoia, violence and madness that can only be soothed by the sweetly singing voice of another crow. Just enough of their sanity surviving to be the menacing shadow beneath their loved one's wings. |
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The Lessons of Kudayari This part has no special, historical meaning. It's literally just another excuse for Suntetsu to be powerful enough to smack down several villages like you wanted. That's the secret. That's what this has all been leading up to. The legend that crows descended from Ayari's lineage can follow in her footsteps and embrace the true power of the effluvial madness all at once is precisely that: a myth. The veracity of the rumors of Ayari's curse being passed down becomes more widely doubted with each passing generations. Those who believe in it, however, simply say that there has not yet been a cause great enough to need such sacrifices. According to the Akaneiro's mythological teachings, the descent into Ayari's curse cannot be deliberately sought through the force of one's will. Instead, it happens when an effluvial of her bloodline experiences great loss and cannot see any way to protect those dearest too them except through the sacrifice of themselves. It cannot be activated for selfish purposes such as the preservation of the descendant's own self or without the profound weight of grief already shattering the edges of the effluvial's sanity. It begins with the pluming of the clan's traditional ink-black smoke pouring from the venom sacks behind their talons, then leaking from the effluvial eyes hidden by the ornate fans hung over their wings. The smoke becomes so profuse around them that hardly seems alive, the crow kneeling broken on the ground with their eyes, wing-eyes and talons weeping viral smoke as though overcome by tears. The world begins to fade with the last remnants of their sanity, until their wings snap forward to with an almost supernatural force to chase the viral smoke away from their kneeling frame. The brilliant garnet hues are tinged with inky black at the feathers at the outer edges of the wings, as though touched by the demonic power now flowing through their pulsating veins. Ever since he was a young hatchling at the annual festivals of remembrance, learning the many tales of the Akaneiro ancestors, the tales of the Kudayari have always captivated the young Kiseru's imagination. The story of a crow who sacrificed everything to save her family resonated with him on an even deeper level after he began to take his duties more seriously. Although not to the best of his knowledge of her bloodline, he attempts to live his life with as much ferocity and devotion as she did in the hopes that one day, if the need is great, he might be able to follow in her clawsteps. |
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Kusari's Relationships
Never Forget to Love the Flowers We've Buried Beneath the Smoke |
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"If devotion is the invisible chain of servitude, then I will wear my shackles well."
Kanghui, Ambitious Prince of Yusen: childhood friend and confidante who didn't realize how readily a flame could be ignited by childish words.
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"I never thought we'd walk the same path so well."
Kogai, Trickster Prince of Akaneiro: affectionate yet overbearing sibling, considers themself the older sibling despite being mere minutes older than Kiseru.
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"Not everything that seems fragile is as easily broken as my pride, I see."
Neman, Little Lost Princess of Seshen: distant companion whose dreams don't quite align.
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