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Name: Didgey
Age: 21
Personal Journal: tobi
Contact Information:
AIM: ask.
Email: goodboytobi@live.com
Other: FRRNT

Past RP Experience: I tattooed the record on your mom's bum.

Character: Shisui Uchiha
Age: 24
PB: Kiyoharu
Classification: Dirt-hair.
Occupation: Assigned to be a slaughterhouse worker originally, now a prostitute and general alley dweller.



Background History: Family bonds were, and still are, everything to the rapidly vanishing Uchiha clan. So for there to be a child in this family orphaned at such a young age, it seemed almost like he was destined to be alone for the rest of his life. Only because he had a family to turn to did Shisui make it past the age of four. A child couldn't make it on their own, and since Shisui had no brothers to help him, he would have just died if not for the kindness of the then pregnant with Itachi, Mikoto Uchiha and her husband, Fugaku Uchiha. Though Shisui never saw Mikoto and Fugaku as his parents, the moment Itachi was born, he instantly wanted to be his older brother.

Whenever he could, Shisui would help Mikoto care for the newborn Itachi, which was quite frequent since Itachi was a baby who loved to cry in all hours of the night. Even the soothing voice of his mother couldn't seem to stop the crying, but Shisui could. He'd sit awake all night, letting Itachi chew on his fingers and drool in his lap, talking to him about all the fun they'd have when they were older. Though Shisui knew the hardships of life already, and had already faced the death of his parents at only four, it was being around something as innocent and carefree as a newborn baby that kept him from becoming bitter about life. For whatever reasons Itachi had for needing Shisui around, Shisui needed Itachi to remind him that he still had a purpose. He now had someone to look after. And he was happy with this for three years, being there for all those first moments, his first word, steps, that hair pulling and eye poking stage. He liked his role as the protective older brother, and thought that nothing would ever change them.

When Itachi was four, Shisui eight, Mikoto discovered she was pregnant again. Shisui instantly became very insecure, not hating the unborn brother Itachi would have, but envying him with everything he had. Since he wasn't directly blood related to Itachi, Shisui felt inferior to Sasuke, and as soon as he was born, Shisui moved out of the Fugaku/Mikoto household to jump from house to house inside the clan. Itachi was old enough then where he was past his baby stages, and no longer cried and screamed in the middle of the night. Itachi had a little brother to look after, and for a while Shisui avoided him so they could bond, become close, share the same bond that Shisui had with the infant Itachi.

But after just a week, he found himself going back one afternoon, just to see Itachi, to nervously peek at the sleeping baby Sasuke. He expected to find Itachi and Sasuke bonding perfectly, like how he had with Itachi all those years back. What he didn't expect was for Itachi to blame himself for making Shisui leave, and instantly cling to him. That's when Shisui decided he could never leave Itachi again, no matter what. And he made that exact promise to him that day. Though he'd surrendered his old bedroom to Sasuke, leaving the old bed he shared with Itachi for Sasuke to sleep in now, he still came over every day, and would spent the entire day playing with Itachi, talking with him and going out to explore and get in trouble.

It was like this for years, and since Shisui was the older one, Itachi looked up to him and Shisui loved it, always going out of his way to find the answers to the questions the younger Uchiha would ask. He played the role of the smart and strong older brother perfectly, as if it was what he was meant to do his entire life. Though he never disliked Sasuke, his bitter jealously of the child kept him from ever getting too close. He was always kind to Sasuke, though never went out of his way to see or help with caring for him.

Their bond was pushed to the very limits when Shisui was seventeen, and Fugaku's life was taken. What happened afterward was all a blur of events, Fugaku's half-brother Madara stepping up and taking Itachi and Sasuke in. Of course Shisui followed, unwilling now more than ever to leave Itachi alone. He was the only one who would suffer through the violence Itachi displayed in his sleep when haunted by his nightmares, the one who would brave the tossing and turning teenager and hold him close, confident now that he was the only one who could let Itachi have a peaceful night's sleep, just like when he'd been a baby and just needed someone willing to sit with him all night.

Things continued to change. After Mikoto didn't snap out of it, Madara began to talk of revolutions, something Shisui had only considered in those fantasies as a kid, wondering why they had to live like this, wondering why they didn't have fields of grass to play in, and real toys, and clothes that fit. Because he had seen the violence displayed by the upper caste in the case of Fugaku, he agreed to follow Madara's plans. At seventeen, he was the oldest Masenshi recruit and the one trained the hardest in violent combat, in the use of assault weapons. For two years he was groomed like this, and during those two years he turned around and trained Itachi, giving him something to focus on to overcome his grief. Learning together about vital points on the body to attack, sparring together.

Maybe they both became too good at it, too fearless. It was when Shisui was nineteen that he'd be tested once more, though this time he'd make the wrong choice. On a day set to continue training, Shisui went to meet Itachi at their usual time, only about ten minutes late. He was instantly frozen in place when his eyes scanned the barren warehouse they did most training in, out of direct view from any passerby. It was a policeman, blond of course and very obviously dead. Itachi had done it. Immediately asking questions and trying to analyze the situation, Shisui knew if it was ever found out that Itachi had done it, he'd be killed instantly. In the same way Fugaku had been... he couldn't imagine it.

He had to protect him. Finding out that the cop had been pestering Itachi on the Uchiha family, Shisui made a guess that this might have been tied to what Fugaku had been tortured for, more false crimes against their family name. Sorting out a plan, he told Itachi to flee, to hide until he heard otherwise from him. Shisui spent the next hour going over the crime scene, finding and cleaning the murder weapon and disposing of all evidence that could have been used against Itachi. Carefully, he took the CC card from the officer's wallet, and ran back to the clan's territory to plant evidence, putting it inside the home of Obito Uchiha. He was going to frame him. One life for another... there was nothing just about it, but he wouldn't let them get to Itachi. Even if it meant someone innocent had to take the fall. The training of a killer combined with the overwhelming urge to play big brother to Itachi made for a dangerous situation.

He didn't know that on his way back, that Sasuke had followed him. Standing over the dead body of the police man, Shisui again gave the murder weapon a quick clean, just to be safe. In the final step of his plan, he called the police and reported the crime, saying that he, himself, had seen Obito Uchiha kill the man. He didn't know Sasuke'd heard it. He didn't know Sasuke'd ran back, and told Madara what he'd seen. He only knew that on TV that night, the murder was announced, along with the story about how the killer was apprehended and tortured for his terrible crime.

It wasn't right. Shisui knew. Itachi was safe, but at what cost? Was it fair? Because of him, someone innocent had suffered. It was no different than what happened to Fugaku. He should have sacrificed himself, and he knew it. But could Itachi have coped with that? No, he knew he needed to be there for Itachi, but in his selfless attempt, he became nothing more than selfish. When Madara finally caught up with Shisui, he told him to never return home, to forget everything he knew, and to stay away from his family. So that was it. Disowning and banishment from the safety of his family, Shisui paid one last visit to Itachi, telling him he had to go, and to never look for him. An apology would have meant nothing, so all Shisui gave him in goodbye was a hug, tighter than any he'd ever given before in his life. Letting go broke his heart, and he ran away after that, never once looking back.

For five years, he lived on his own. Word spreads fast in the third district when there's a traitor in the midst. For as ruthless as the criminals in the third could be, there was one crime you never committed. A crime against your family. The word was that Shisui had been the cop killer, and framed a member of his own family. Shisui never denied it, nor did he confirm. He'd never tell the story of what really happened, because he knew nothing he did deserved to be defended. Outsiders couldn't understand. Even if he explained it, it wouldn't be in the hopes of being understood, defended. In the end, what he did was still wrong. One life for another. Someone still died that didn't deserve to, all because of him.

For months he wandered the streets, sleeping aside trash cans and living off whatever scraps he could find. It was hard, near impossible to survive out here on your own. But it was his punishment, and he wouldn't take the easy way out and commit suicide. He wouldn't let someone else kill him. After two months of aimless wandering, he began to put his reputation and skill to use. Because he was known as a cold-blooded killer, he didn't have to prove himself to someone who needed to put a hit out. This was how he made his money, killing the unwanted. But it became too much, he was tired of it. An assassin who hated to kill, who couldn't stand to see the faces of death. But what else was there for him? He'd sunk low enough to kill people who had never wronged him, people he never knew... how much further could he go?

Prostitution became his way out on his second year of living on his own. This introduced him intimately with the world of drugs, downers being his personal preference. The money he made now from selling his body went solely to that, and the minimal amounts of food and water. He was wasting away, but he didn't mind. Using drugs and sex to forget his guilt, Shisui was by no means happy with where his life had turned, but he could live with it. What he never counted on was finding Sasuke at the common pick-up point for prostitutes. At first he just watched him from a distance, silently confirming it was really him and not a look-alike. He was met with clear dislike and hostility when he finally approached the youngest Uchiha, but it was comforting to him. He wanted to know about Itachi, how Itachi was, but Sasuke was unwilling to share. He hoped Itachi had gotten over him so easily, even if the thought hurt him. He wanted nothing more than to just know Itachi was alive, and thriving. Getting enough food, enough water, and enough knowledge to satiate his infinite curiosity.

Though he was curious, he was afraid. He was afraid Itachi did forget him, or would hate him if he tracked him down. There was a matter, too, of Madara. He didn't want to be seen with Itachi and risk Madara removing Itachi from the Uchiha household as well. Itachi needed the comfort of his family, Shisui knew that. His encounter with Sasuke had been coincidental, but to find Itachi would mean literally hunting him down. He couldn't explain that one off. It would just be better if they remained apart, never needing to see each other again.

Now twenty-four years old, Shisui lives a life most slum dwellers even turn their noses up at. He sleeps where he falls, he wakes up and goes to sell himself, getting his money for the day from any number of undesirables that want to get their hands on someone who doesn't look half-bad at all with all the make-up on. Then it's to that dark alley, a quick exchange, and the rest of the day is spent blitzed out of his mind, laying in the dirt and tracing patterns into it with his fingers. It's by no means honorable, but it's his punishment. He'll keep himself alive as long as he has to, to fully endure every aspect of it.

Personality/Likes & Dislikes: Shisui's likes and dislikes have been transferred from childhood tastes to what can kill me, and what can't. When it comes to food, he doesn't care. Most foods he thinks he can't taste anymore anyway, and never has an appetite, even when starving. He tolerates most things he dislikes, such as sex which he now does for a job. He doesn't get turned on when with a client, which is why most of his regulars just prefer the quickie blowjob and go. Shisui doesn't even consider himself to be good at it, but he appeals to those with a little money and a lot of desperate loneliness.

While most his his family are quick to hide emotions under all circumstances, Shisui doesn't have such reservations. He's been worn down to the point where he doesn't care who he impresses or offends. When he's happy, he smiles. When he's sad, he'll frown. When distressed, he may cry. He has no emotional blocks, but this doesn't mean he's an open person. Since he left Itachi, he has not yet opened up to any other person, never once seeking out a friend or a like-minded person. He doesn't want to be comforted. It's not that he never wants a friend again, it's that he thinks he doesn't deserve it and on top of that, he doubts he'll be able to protect them even if they can get close enough. He's still haunted, too, by the promise he made to never leave Itachi again. Which he very obviously broke.

When it comes to his opinion on himself, he feels bitterness and regret. When he thinks back to the choice he made, he wishes time and time again that he'd have done something differently. Been more careful, taken the fall for Itachi himself, anything other than framing Obito. He knows he can't go back, but comforts himself in the middle of the night by pretending that he can, playing thousands of hypothetical situations out again and again. Part of the reason why he turned to drugs was to stop these feelings of guilt, and let himself sleep blissfully unaware. As expected, he did form an addiction and can't go too long without a fix or he feels overwhelmed by everything.

While still physically strong, malnourishment has led to certain levels of muscle weakening, so he's not in the same shape he was five years ago. He's by no means weak and fragile, but wouldn't be able to take someone down with the ease he was trained to display. This does make him vulnerable, so he depends on his reputation to keep him safe, and when threatened has a bark that usually scares aggressors off before things get too bad. Though he was trained to be ruthless, he prefers nonviolent ends to a conflict. If he were to join Masenshi now, he'd have disagreed with Madara's tactics. Though if he'd never been banished from the family, he likely would have became entirely numb to it, and pressed on with the violence.

His outlook on life as a whole is generally bleak and pessimistic, though this could change if he found something to live for again. He's got the type of nurturing personality that makes him very doting, but at the same time he plays into the role of the scorned lover and the "I will never love again," mindset. He hasn't moved on past the guilt he feels for what happened with Itachi because he's reminded of it every day when he wakes up alone, and in somewhere new. That and to ultimately get over something, he'd have to know how Itachi felt, and even go so far as to ask for forgiveness. Since he's set on staying away from Itachi for the rest of his life, it's unlikely that he'll ever have this chance. His nature is also one of sacrifice, which is another reason why he doesn't want to get close to anybody else. He knows, this time, he'd sacrifice his own life in a heartbeat. And as said before, he wants to avoid death to endure his punishment. Essentially, he makes things complicated for himself.

Sample Post:

First Person

Rain makes work hard. Even in the best shelter I can get to, the ceilings leak. People don't go out in the rain, I've never been worth the run through a downpour to pick up. Even after all the others give in and leave, I'll wait for a job. I guess that makes me desperate, but I have nothing else to do. I may one day run into the one desperate customer that pays well and wants someone who's soaked to the bone. Mascara runs, the rain is usually heavy enough to wash away most makeup. It's not pretty, but... neither are most people who lurk in the rain, I think. The rain is for people who like being alone. Walk down a busy street in the heat of a downpour and I can almost assure you that you'll be walking alone. When you see someone walking like that, I think naturally we assume there's something wrong with them. They want to get sick, they're insane.

To some I think it must be like a shower. If the rain wasn't so dirty, maybe it could wash you clean. I don't know. If it could, I might use it like that, too. That's a good hint of insanity, isn't it? To stand in the street where there are no awnings to block the rain and scrub up with a bar of soap. I'd have to be naked, then. I wouldn't mind, but I'd probably get some unpaid work that night.

(That means raped, I'm not good at humor.)

There could be other reasons, too. It feels refreshing, even if the water is heavy. It's also scary. It reminds you that no matter what you do in your life, you're still helpless to nature. You could spend twenty years of your life building the perfect home for your family, and in one quick flood, it could all be taken down. That's frightening, isn't it? I don't have a home to worry about, so when it rains like that it's easy for me to find a place of shelter.

But... when I'm alone, walking, head tilted back towards the sky when the rain falls, I know exactly why I'm there.

I want to drown.

Third Person

(( taken from his intro log, coz Laura said I could. >D ))

The night life here was made out to be a world of phony glamor. Fake names and fake people, all willing to give you everything you wanted for the right price. The black market, prostitution, influential gangs lurking behind every corner, eager for their next hit... It wasn't a safe place. In the middle of the day these streets weren't safe, and the dangers only grew a hundred times worse when the sun set. Shisui knew this better than anyone. Street dwellers like him, had he not been marked as a traitor, might have found success in one of the gangs. He was a good fighter, physically strong and mentally intelligent. But who wanted someone who snitched? Nobody. He was a risk, even to hardened murderers and rapists. He was somehow too much for them. Feared and hated, he had enough security in his reputation to walk the streets without too many incidents. And he stayed out of people's way. If he was approached, he didn't back down but merely stood his ground, unmoving. It was enough to discourage most lowly thugs from instigating violence, and the smarter crime bosses simply didn't care what Shisui did. He was a nobody. A prostitute and drug addict who'd outgrown his use and made himself a piece of trash.

That's what he felt about himself, anyway. Just a stray piece of rubbish that got kicked and blown around, always in a new place by morning. But it was alright. He didn't mind.

Today had gotten off to a particularly late start, waking up at a surprising 5:30 PM, entirely passed out from whatever drugs he was given the night before. He didn't remember too well. He'd woken up outside someone's home, naked, and with his clothes tossed on top of him. He assumed they'd kicked him out after waking up. Whatever. After re-dressing, he head downtown to grab a bite to eat, just something small since he'd had a headache that was too bad to attempt more drugs, and for once his stomach was growling for food. It was a rare happening that he actually wanted to eat, so he decided to treat himself. Just a small bowl of some type of noodle-- he never paid much attention to this stuff-- from a tiny restaurant that looked as if it could only dine four people at once. He'd eaten slowly, not to savor but just because he had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. Some people might have loved this type of lifestyle, no obligations, no rules... Shisui hated it. But he was trapped by it.

By the time he was finished eating, an hour had gone by and the food had long since turned cold. He couldn't taste the difference in flavor, so he continued to eat it well past that point. Giving a small bow to the workers behind the counter, he left, heading to the only work he knew. The long stretch of the red light district of the Third, where his type lingered, waiting to be picked up and whisked away to do the unspeakable for pocket change. He didn't feel like working. He never felt like working, so he took his time, walking slow, taking the longest route possible to attempt to avoid the inevitable. It would prove to be a decision in Itachi's favor.

Walking away from the large groups of people, Shisui continued on the longer path behind the major buildings, exposing himself to the darkness of the alleys between them, leading to the main road. He let his feet scrape against the pavement, which was cracked and slightly damp with stagnant rain water. There was nothing glamorous here. Once you looked behind the flashing lights and bustling crowds it was all corroded and wasting away. Shisui paused suddenly, feeling uneasy like he was being watched. He turned slowly, looking behind himself but seeing nothing. But he knew better. It might have been a stray cat, or it might have been another useless thug, looking for some easy pickings. Laughing almost bitterly, Shisui shook his head, turning forward and staring straight ahead. "If you're a cat, get lost." He spoke out clearly, keeping his tone lighthearted and carefree. Unthreatened by whatever eyes were upon him. "If you're going to attack, though, just do it. I've got to get to work soon." Though he sounded cool and in control, situations like this admittedly made him nervous. He tried not to show it, but it did in the way he reached up to rub his neck, exposing the single star tattoo there. He wished for it to just be a cat. Please be a cat.

When he heard nothing, he sighed, wondering if it was his nerves or paranoia lingering from the come down of what he'd taken last night. Dropping his shoulders in a sign of released tension, he sighed, and continued walking, his guard foolishly lowered into false security momentarily.

Shisui continued to ignore the nagging feeling that someone was watching him, though now more annoyed by it than anything. It was too long of a chase for this to just be some two-bit thug, or even a stray animal. Strays weren't stealthy, neither were worthless grunts intent on mugging you and running. There were two things now, a true killer out for him, or his own imagination. Of course his imagination would run away like that, create something that he used to be. The sly assassin, creeping from roof to roof, picking off a target. Maybe it was nobody at all. The idea of running from himself, from his own past and history, that was nothing new. He knew he had no value, no worth. If someone were to hire someone this skilled to come after him, they'd need a good reason. Shisui could think of none, and decided the sensation he felt was nothing more than a trick, a hallucination. It wouldn't have been the first, and since he was unaware the dose or the drug he'd taken, a random hallucination didn't surprise him.

Turning back from the direction he came from, he walked back, feeling the unknown gaze the entire time. Of course he would. You can't hide from your past so easily. If only he knew just how much weight his conclusion actually held. Of course the owner of those eyes would use his own tactics. He'd been the one to train them. But he had no idea.

Standing still, he leaned back against the nearby concrete wall, fishing a cigarette out of his coat pocket and slipping it between his lips, watching the smoke trail away after it was lit. The smoke fascinated him, claimed his attention for a moment. That was his sobriety test, and he decided that he failed it. He would wait it out then, no sense in wasting a good high if it wanted to linger. And no sense in ignoring his little ghost, if he wanted to stick around too.

"Alright, I give." He continued, placing his arms up against the wall, spreading them wide and pressing his legs together. He kept the cigarette held between his lips, though it looked like it'd fall at any moment. "If you want to watch... I won't be interesting. You'll get bored and leave, right? You know it's not fair, using my own tricks against me..." He must have looked insane, up against a wall in an empty alley, talking to the darkness like it could somehow talk back. It wasn't an odd sight, but people still liked to stop and watch. It was entertainment, right? Shisui only wanted to talk to his ghost, not any passerby.