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[OOC] Application Post!
Player:
Name: Kira~
Are you 17+?: Yes. u_u
Personal Journal: Kira-chan @ LJ (or Scribbld, but there's not much on that one)

Contact Information:
AIM: KiraRP
Email: KiraKattRP@gmail.com
Timezone: US EST (GMT-05:00)
Availability: Odd hours during the week, depending on when uni and work let me sleep. .__.; Oh, and not too much on the weekends, since my second job likes to steal my soul during that time.
Other: If you think he's sexy~ and you want his body~.


Past RP Experience: Hinata at Discontinuing, Inc., Phoenix Reform Center, and...um...here. I’d apped elsewhere and for other characters, but the comms all died before I could hop in. D: A little tabletop and RP-MUD experience as well.

Character:
Name: Minato Namikaze~
Age: Will be 35 on the 25th! (But looks like he's in his early to mid-twenties, which he finds incredibly annoying.)
Sexuality: Omniiiiiii. Gender isn't an issue, but he's only been with women in the past - mostly due to A)it was easier and B)he didn't want to put up with his coworkers crap for it.
Role in company: Set Designer(/Builder/Maintainer). Though could be dragged to Security, Photographer, or Director if there was ever a good plot reason.

PB: Taylor Hanson(Don't laugh, just look at it. Trust me.)

Background History: To some, becoming a parent at the age of sixteen would be considered the end of the world. But to Minato, it was merely the completion of his. He had a job he loved, the woman he loved, an amazing car, a decent place to live, and now...a wonderful baby boy.

Having grown up on the not-so-great side of town, young parenthood wasn't anything shocking to Minato's family. ...Except that is was him. Since he was a child, he'd shown a form a genius rare to his upbringing. He was superbly intelligent, and his family made sure that he got the best they could get him for it. Not necessarily for his own benefit, but more so that one day he could pull them out of the gutter they'd dug themselves into. After so many members of his family had landed themselves in trouble with the law or worked in dead-end jobs because they didn't have the smarts or skills or schooling necessary to move up in life, he was supposed to be the one who would work his way up while they clung on to his coattails. For years, he gritted his teeth and accepted it - they were his family, so he should do well by them. It was because of this that they tried to convince him that he should simply leave his girlfriend and deny the baby - or better yet, just get her an abortion, since then she could never even try for child support.

...Which ended up being the last in a long line of grievances for him, so the day they came out and suggested it was the same day he moved into Kushina's cozy little house. On his way out the door, he rattled off a disturbing list of things he'd be more than happy to inform the police of if anyone in his family cared to report him as a runaway. Needless to say, no one called.

He was sad to give up on school, but it was in the best interests of his child. He'd give his offspring the best he could give them - for his, her, or their betterment, not his own. He finished tenth grade and then studied hard to get his GED while working, though, in the hopes that maybe one day they'd be successful enough he could go on to higher education. Being a photojournalist was tough, but both he and Kushina loved it and were skilled (and lucky) enough to make a decent living at it.

Kushina was a couple years older than him and had just graduated and was living in a house she'd inherited from her grandfather. They'd known each other since a heated debate in the main hall in middle school - that had amused all of the students present and had teachers dithering over whether to break it up or not since they weren't exactly fighting and they both argued so well - that somehow landed them both on the debate team. They'd kept in touch the two years they went to different schools, and were pretty inseparable once Minato started high school. After realizing they'd been making out for an hour in the back of someone's car at a party, they laughingly began an actual relationship. Both were highly intelligent, and they balanced each other nicely. Minato's calm gentleness and Kushina's energetic brashness helped to offset their age difference. All was well until two months after a friend's birthday party - where they might have gotten a little too inebriated to have thought about protection - Kushina realized that she was late. They were terrified, but excited. They were certain, however, that they could build a family for themselves better than their own families had been. Working as much as they could during the pregnancy was a harrowing experience, but they persevered. Once the baby was born, they alternated their schedules so that they wouldn't have to waste money on a sitter and would get to spend as much time with him as possible. The first year was hard, but they pulled through. They tried hard not to spoil him, but they also did their best to lavish as much loving attention on their precious baby as they could.

Minato's distaste for his less-than-savory relatives made for very little contest when deciding to give their son Kushina's last name. Minato was half-tempted to take it himself when they were finally able to get married, though there was that little bit of manly pride that cringed at the thought. For a first name, they decided to name him after the main character in their shared favorite book: Naruto.

Life was going well for the young couple, and recent promotions and the backlog of people asking for their work had them certain that they would continue to do well for their family. They'd decided that they wanted another baby soon, so that little Naruto wouldn't be too much older than his little baby brother(s) and/or sister(s). The day of Minato's eighteenth birthday, Kushina surprised him with news that she was late again. They made an appointment for a couple days later, scheduled for two days before the small wedding they had planned.

They decided to leave Naruto with a sitter that day, their nervous jitters over both the upcoming wedding as well as the possible new baby too great to be able to focus on him as much as they'd need to. They left the hospital with news of the best wedding present they could think of: Kushina was indeed pregnant again. Happily discussing whether they hoped for a girl or a boy, neither of them noticed the reckless, drunken criminal fleeing the police coming from the right of the intersection until it was too late.

Kushina was killed on impact, and Minato wasn't much better for wear. The paramedics worked diligently to keep him alive until he reached the hospital, but during surgery he died on the table. The head surgeon gave up on him, announcing his time of death to a nearby nurse who shuffled off to do the paperwork. The surgeon who had been assisting him, though, didn't want to give up. She took over the procedure and after having endured a little over two minutes of that awful flatline noise, Minato's heart started again. He paid for that time, though, with almost six months in a coma.

In the aftermath, the mix up of paperwork had a living Minato with a death certificate - that had been sent to his next of kin. Even though they knew he still lived, his relatives greedily divvied up the savings that he and Kushina had worked so hard on and sold the house and as many of the young couple's possessions as they could. What they couldn't sell right-off mostly got tossed into boxes in the dusty corner of the attic and forgotten about. As for the child that the rest of the Namikaze family had wished to never be born: he was put up for adoption and given to an orphanage. Years later, Minato would wonder if his mother's religiousness made her believe that the child would be well-cared-for at a Christian orphanage, or if it was somehow to further spite him in his lack of religiosity.

When Minato awoke, he had full retrograde amnesia. He remembered nothing. Well, almost nothing - he remembered his first name and the word 'uzumaki,' and that was all. One of the clueless nurses who returned his personal possessions knew Japanese, and pointed out that the little, blue spiral on his necklace could be an uzumaki - a whirlpool. Something bugged him about the explanation, but it worked, so he guessed it was just his lack of memory bothering him. The doctors all agreed that the memory loss wasn't due to damage from lack of oxygen, but from the initial physical trauma from the accident - and that perhaps one day his memories might be able to be triggered into recovery. He was surrounded by hospital staff, but none of his relatives. Perhaps out of a sense of misplaced pity, the doctor who briefed him on his condition never told him about his fiancee or son. His family, who came to retrieve him when the hospital called, never cared to mention them either. In their eyes, Minato was a clean slate that they could make their meal ticket once again - they weren't going to jeopardize that.

It was frustrating, remembering nothing of his life before. He was curious why he had a GED if he had supposedly loved school so much. They didn't exactly lie when they told him he'd opted to graduate early to support his family. When he looked around his old home, he couldn't help the feeling of there being some sort of void in his life - and decided that maybe work was the distraction he needed. They knew that they couldn't send him back to his previous employer for fear that something there would remind him of his dead fiancee and absent son, so they helped him get odd jobs around the city. His natural charm won him most of the positions he acquired, and his family ended up losing him most of them. It didn't take him very long to reestablish just what kind of people his family were, and that he wanted little if nothing to do with them. When he wasn't working, he took to volunteering for various community groups to give him a reason for getting out of the house. Working with kids was his favorite - he loved making them smile, even if there was a small wrench on his heart every time he did.

When volunteering for a graffiti clean-up, Minato met the men who would change his life. Working right alongside him were several officers from the local precinct. He laughed and joked with them as they worked, and then joined them to listen to more stories of their exploits and arrests in wonder. In an instant, he saw a way to both help others and finally escape his family: the police force. Not a week later he walked in and signed up for the next academy session. He breezed through the testing, graduating top of his class at only nineteen. There were naysayers amidst the elder cops who knew his family name, but he systematically proved himself to each and every one of them. He loved his job, and jumped at the opportunity to advance to detective. There he met his greatest mentors, a set of partners who took him under their wing and taught him everything they knew. He was a quick learner, and because of it he speedily climbed the ranks of the department. He never really cared about advancing past first detective, but he was convinced each time that he was the best man for the job - and he was content with doing his best by his newfound family of cops. He even took some classes on the side in an attempt to be better at his work, slowly building minor degrees in both law and psychology.

Eventually he climbed his way to chief of police, finally having to clip away the last vestiges of field work to focus on paperwork and issues within the office. He hated it. He felt cooped up and away from actually making any sort of difference. He'd never found a woman that he'd wanted to settle down and have kids with, but his adoration of children had never ceased. He'd considered adoption - even of one or two of his nieces - but felt guilty that he wouldn't be able to be around as much as parents should with his schedule. To combat the holes both of these things left in his life, he stepped up his volunteer time at various local youth centers, helping both kids and teens.

His life continued on as such, happy but never really fulfilled, for several years. Then, one night as was getting ready to leave the office late again, he noticed a couple of brazen male rookies sneaking into one of the darkened briefing rooms. He loved messing with the rookies, and though these two didn't seem the type to fool around with each other, he couldn't help but be curious as to what they were up to. As he got outside the door, he had to chuckle to himself. There were the distinct sounds of female moaning and bass-intensive music. Putting on his best 'angry chief face,' he flung the door open and demanded to know what what going on in there. It was lucky for him that the two rookies were more frantic over finding the stop or power buttons than paying attention to his expression. The image they'd managed to freeze on the screen - the smirking bleach-blonde boy - that bore a disturbing resemblance to himself - made something click.

He had to grip the doorhandle to steady himself at the rush of memories flooding back to him. The beautiful redhead that had bore him a child. The loving family. The child. His child. His baby boy. That his family had never wanted...

"Remote down. Get out," was all he managed to growl out. Let them think that he was just angry with them, as they slinked out shamefully. Let them not see his expression because of the dark room, or know that the growl in his voice was from trying to talk around the lump in his throat. After they'd left the hall, he shut the door and locked himself in. He stared at that face flashed on the screen for a long time, remembering the bubbly baby boy...and having to bury his face in his hands as he sobbed. The unfillable void that had always been present since he'd awoken from that coma...he finally knew what was supposed to have been there. And his son...his innocent little child...had been taken from him. Perhaps it was a sense of duty to clean up the room, perhaps it was a vain protective attempt to make sure others wouldn't see the DVD, but he quickly tidied up the room and took the case with him. Naruto Uzumaki, it said on the case. Son of Kushina Uzumaki and Minato Namikaze, he thought to himself.

He'd always been relatively slow to anger, and was famous for maintaining his calm even in some of the worst situations. So when he marched up to the house he'd left more than fifteen years prior, it was with a mask of utter placidity. He quietly demanded from them the details of the time before his coma, the details of his fiancee and child. Finally, they gave in and told him everything. The squabbling over possessions, the orphanage, the reason why he still had a copy of his death certificate despite having not truly died. He walked away from that house claiming that - in all finality - they were no longer his family. Relatives, yes, but not family. He made an exception for one of his nieces, who called him later to tell him that she'd found several boxes of things in the attic that belonged to him...but had been told never to tell. They managed to sneak out the boxes of pictures, toys, plaques, and old articles and cameras - Minato's keepsakes - and Minato told her to call him if she ever needed anything.

Being the chief had its advantages, and with the help of several friends he'd accumulated over the years, he traced the life of his precious baby boy. ...And what a life it had been. For all his desperate attempts to help other kids, his had been one of those that no one had helped. He vastly disagreed with the sentencing of the court case, and couldn't help but formulate several routes of appeal. But...he wouldn't get ahead of himself. Despite it having been no fault of his own, he was fairly certain that if he popped up in his son's life he would not be wanted there. Having grown up in a neighborhood rife with both teens and adults that had been through prison, he knew that his reputation as a cop would only hinder his approach further. Plus...there was the chance that Naruto was perfectly happy without him there, and he didn't want to screw up any happiness the kid had managed to garner. So, after several months of research...he took a leave of absence. His subordinates were upset to see him leave, but those that knew his reasons couldn't have blamed him.

He knew that the workplace was often the greatest way to interact with people, and had taken note that Feel Good actually kept public employee blogs to facilitate communication. Which was great, because he really had no wish to speak to his long-lost-son face to face while he was actually...working. He could do security for certain, but anyone who had done prison time might be aversive to him then. Same with the legal department - not that he thought his meager degree would help him much there. He had a lovely eye for film that had brought him far in his youth, but didn't want to have to explain why he wouldn't want to ever film or photograph a certain actor. That also put directing out. Going down the line, he sighed as he ticked off the available positions until...set designer. He could do that. He could use his eye from the other side of the camera and build the sets that would work best. He'd get to be creative, work with his hands, and best of all...he'd be near the sets, though not around during filming. Perfect for a little observation, gossip-hoarding, and possibly running into a certain actor.

...He just hoped that no one wanted to see his work history.


Personality, Likes, & Dislikes: Minato is a staunch philanthropist. He loves people, and will do everything he can to help better others' lives - within reason. He spent the first sixteen years of his life getting walked all over - and then another year from age 18 to 19 - so he's learned to avoid it. From his chosen profession as a cop to all the charity work he did, some of the greatest joy he'd found in his life was in making others' a bit brighter.


While he is perfectly capable of taking charge when necessary, he more enjoys helping others to take charge of things on their own. Outside of work-related necessities, he is very unlikely to make demands of anyone. Instead, if he sees something that needs correction, he might suggest that perhaps the person or persons might wish to cease or engage in a certain activity. He’s always willing to offer advice where he can (and he's seen and been through a lot, so has a lot to offer), and whether his advice was followed or not he’ll still be there to help pick up the pieces if something goes wrong. He’s never been one to say “I told you so” but that doesn’t mean that you’ll be spared a gentle ribbing when appropriate. He has a definite tendency to "daddy" people, being ultra-protective but also letting them fall on their faces sometimes (and being around with hugs and band-aids and quiet words of comfort after that). And if he feels like there is a lesson to be garnered, he will make sure that it hits home. As much as he loves to help others, he does have a hard time accepting help from others. First he was surrounded by people who only wanted to use him, then by people who taught him to be self-sufficient, and then also by those who needed his help more. He's so used to doing things for himself that it makes him twitchy to let someone else do things for him. And he does still have a little leftover suspicion that someone might just be doing something for him to get something in return. He's worked so hard to be self-sufficient that he can't really bring himself to depend on others, and it will take a fair amount of time and effort to get him to do so.


Minato has a generally infectious personality. When others are stressed, his calm rationality soothes their stresses and balms their anger. At other times, his energetic cheerfulness can drag a smile from just about anyone. He's the guy who gathers a crowd every time he tells a story and never makes anyone feel left out in it. He never does anything without reason, and once he makes a decision to do something he will not dither about following through. When it’s appropriate, he has a serious side and can be very business-like; however, he much prefers to spend his time with a grin on his face. He loves to tease others and harmless pranks are one of his ultimate amusements. He has a generous sense of humor, and can take it as well as he gives it. Part of this is from the fact of being ragged of for having a copy of his own death certificate - having been called everything from Jesus to (in recent years) Harry Potter. He'll rag on himself for things if it'll make someone else more comfortable, especially since he can usually see the humor in his faults and eccentricities.


He’s one of those people who has complete self-confidence, but manages to avoid over-confidence. He also can’t stand to see others upset and will do what he can to get a laugh from them. As a result, he’s not at all afraid to make himself look like an idiot if it means putting a smile on someone’s face. He’s not at all easily embarrassed (when he is, it’s very noticeable by the dark blush across his nose and cheeks, much to his dismay), but he loves to tease a blush from others. His gentle teasing, easy smile, genuine interest in others, and tendency toward dorky petnames has had him labeled a notorious flirt by some, but he’s far from it. In fact, he's actually quite the hopeless romantic. Not to say that he won't stare at the nice body of a passerby if he thinks he won't get maimed for it. But if he flirts, it is very apparent, and he doesn’t ever flirt without the intention of following through if the person is responsive. And he can be very, very persistent. His stubbornness knows very few bounds, which has also gained him the reputation of being hard-headed, but he’s generally smart enough to tell when he should and shouldn’t give up.


He hates lying with a passion, and if he can tell someone is lying to him or someone he cares about he will hound them until the truth is told. The only exception is when he can tell that it’s a difficult personal situation, since people do deserve their privacy and there are some things that aren’t his business. …But he’ll still let the person know that he knows they’re lying, and that he doesn’t appreciate it. For the most part, he's an open book, willing to answer just about any question directed at him. The only two things that he won't tell people at the company are A)the identity of the child he's trying to reconnect with and B)what his former profession was. This will only change if either not telling someone threatens his ability to get closer to his son and telling will change that or if someone figures it out on their own he won't deny it.


He’s slow to anger, preferring to find a rational solution to problems instead of irritating them further. He's frustrated many a person trying to get a rise out of him with his tendency to diffuse things with a joke and a grin. Not to say he doesn't get frustrated at times - he's not a saint - but a few deep breaths and thinking about the problem usually moderates it well enough. When he does get genuinely angry though...he's a force to be reckoned with. As warm as he usually is, he can be incredibly cold. He only gives one warning when someone is overstepping a boundary, and one warning only. If a person continues to push, that is his or her choice, and whether the reaction is vocal or physical he always hits hard. When he does get worked up over something, there are generally only two ways to calm him down. One is potentially dangerous to whoever is attempting it, as his reaction could vary from grateful relaxation to violent retaliation, depending on how much trust he has with that person. The other is to run.


Not running away, no, but just running. Ever since he was a kid, he was enthralled by the feeling of pushing himself as fast as his body would permit. The physical exertion from it clears his anger and boosts his mood with adrenaline, and the wind in his hair makes him feel free. The single-mindedness of the action itself frees up the rest of him to mull over a problem, but requires enough attention so he can't get overly wrapped up in it. Twice in his life he garnered the nickname of "The Yellow Flash" for his speed, whether it was in taking a swift picture and possibly fleeing afterward or chasing down the criminals he meant to arrest. He's yet to find anyone who can outrun him in a sprint, but figures that his long-distance endurance skills might not be what they used to be. His love of speed also transfers into other areas of his life as well, owning both a fast car(he tries not to speed. no rly.) and a sportbike. He has maybe, possibly, minutely abused his cop status on several occasions to get himself out of speeding tickets.


His home is the picture of organized clutter, managing to look both tidy and lived-in. Everything has it's place, even if that place is the pile of books stacked on the side of his desk, and he knows when things have been messed with. And must fix them. As soon as possible. Or it will bother him. all. day. He doesn't mind getting dirty, but has a severe distaste for staying that way. If asked about his particular brand of messy-tidiness, he will laugh and blame it on his hair, that no matter how much he makes sure it is brushed and neat will always stick up at odd angles(oh, cue more Harry Potter jokes, yes, and he will hate you ♥).


Likes: Bright colors(especially yellow), relaxing walks, even more relaxing runs, chocolate, honesty, old rock, girly pop, , orange soda, anything lemon, making people smile, kids, cats, the smell of coffee, bubble baths, getting to act like a big kid sometimes, driving fast, practical jokes, figuring things out, challenges, knowing he did well at something, being creative, working with his hands, learning(everything and anything...mostly), people-watching, flowers, tattoos(has a couple).


Dislikes: When people mistake him for being much younger, lying, liars, insults to his height(he's average, not short, damnit), sitting behind a desk, paperwork, speed limits(ironic? yes), people who intentionally hurt others, anyone who tries to hurt those he cares about, having to sit still, boring and repetitive tasks, being alone, overly religious people, being used.


Sample Post:

First Person:
I'm nervous.

I can only remember a few times in my life that I've been more nervous than right now, kneeling before you. And not because I don't have the recollection. At least, not anymore.

Ugh, they didn't even give you a proper stone. I'll fix that, baby. At least this place is rather nice...if you can ignore the graffiti. But hey, we grew up with that, right? And I'll get some of it cleaned up next time I come back, I promise. And I never break my promises, remember? I wish I could have been there when they brought you here. Even if your hands were ice cold, I would have wanted to have held them. I think you knew that, though. Even then.

While I'm wishing, though. I wish that this all had never happened. You, there; me, here; him...elsewhere. I wish I could have done something more to prevent it. And I wish that I had known all these years. I wish I'd been there for him. I wish I'd remembered sooner.

I can't fix everything, love. I'm good, but I'm not that good. But I'll make it better than it is now. Starting with this place, for you. Not that the others don't also deserve it, but...it's for you. First the graffiti, then a proper stone. And flowers. Lots of them. And not just ones that'll be good for this summertime heat, but some that'll bloom up come winter, too. I'll make this a nice place to come talk to you at. And then...I might be a bit more scarce. For him. I know you'll understand, darling. I'll get someone to come water the flowers, and clean away any new graffiti. But... Like I said, I can't fix it - but I'll do whatever I can to make sure that he is happy now.

Maybe he'll come with me for a visit one day. But...for now, I must be going, sweetheart. Duty calls, and all. I just hope there's not too much paperwork involved in it today, heh. Before I go, though...I want you to know...

You were always with me - both of you. Always, even when I couldn't remember it. As a part of me will always remain with you. But I'll try to make the rest of me move on. I know you'd want me to keep trying to be happy. And if I didn't you'd somehow come back just to kick my ass. Again. Just to prove you could. ...Which I don't think my pride could handle, so I'll stick with the trying, lady. Ack, really do have to go now. I love you.

I'll talk to you later, Kushina.



Third Person:
Minato was not having a good day. He got asked for his ID twice on his way to his work area, and it almost made him late. Then his coworkers had him running all over the building because he was the new guy. And they all thought he was a stupid kid, even though he was likely more than a decade older than some of them. His coffee had gone cold, and his orange soda had gotten warm. And twice now props had fallen on his head. ...At least they weren't those kinds of props. But part of him was just waiting for a used condom to somehow fly out of nowhere and smack him in the face. He'd been misdirected and walked in on sets that were filming three times now, and promptly ran out whilst several curses and threats followed him out the door. Well, at least he hadn't walked in on a scene featuring Naruto. That would have caused him to make a mess of the projectile vomiting sort, and he figured that nobody involved would be too happy with that.


Oh, and the day was only half over.


He knew he probably looked ridiculous, walking down the hall with his cheeks full of sandwich like a chipmunk's. But he'd been told the cafeteria was on the wrong floor three times before he just went looking for himself. And now his lunch break was almost over and he was not going to work on an empty stomach. And he really didn't want his food near the sets. So...time to scarf as he walked and hope he didn't trip and choke. ...Then again, with how his day was going...


He sighed and slumped against the nearest corner, finally finishing chewing that mouthful and going for the next. But...oh, hello there. If he leaned just a little more in thiiiiiiis direction, he could still see the person that had just quickly walked by. And the delightful posterior attached to said person that not even a conservatively cut suit could deny the existence of. Now, he wasn't a peeping tom or anything, but...hey, he was still a healthy, youn- healthy male. It was a touch hard to tell from the back, especially with the longer hair, but those looked more like guy shoes, so... And if he(she?) was wearing a business suit, he(...she?) likely wasn't too young or an actor(...actre-? nah, that's a guy walk). Hmm...maybe that was a sign that his day was looking up. He would likely already be a few minutes late heading back and he could easily blame it on getting lost with all the lousy directions they gave(it wasn't really lying, since it was those directions that had him scrambling in the first place), so perhaps he should go try to chat up Business Suit there.


However, before he could more than think to do so, the angle he was leaning at to see around the corner sent him flailing as he fell over sideways - and right into a young woman. Apologizing profusely, he gingerly helped her up and re-gathered her belongings. He was worried that his bad-first-day-luck had now affected someone else, but luckily she was uninjured. And responding a little too well to his self-deprecating smile and solicitous queries. He had to shake his head and chuckle quietly as she walked away with a little more bounce in her step and an attempt to sway her hips that proved beyond any doubt that she definitely worked on the office side of this business. ...Wait, walking away...SHIT!


He spun around, but alas. Business Suit and his beatific buttocks were nowhere to be seen. He muttered an aggravated swear under his breath and kicked at the nearest object on the floor. ...Which he then noticed was the other half of his sandwich. Lovely.


Scrubbing a hand over his face and taking a few calming breaths, he turned and marched back to the set he was told to report to after lunch. After work, he was making himself a nice, big steak with a glass of red wine. And eating it while soaking in a hot bath. And heaven help the poor soul who should think to disturb him.