Stormblood, Voltov

First Name: Voltov
Last Name: Stormblood
Gender: Male
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 178 lbs
Age: 18
Birthday: March 28

Village: Arashigakure
Rank: Chuunin
Elements: Raiton, Suiton, Fuuton
Specializations: Taijutsu, Ninjutsu, Ijutsu, Kyujutsu



Personality: Voltov has an interesting personality to say the very least. He is a very violent, sadistic person who thrives off of pain and the suffering of others. His kind, compassionate side, if at all even there, is only ever shown to those willing enough to dig deep enough to get to it, those of which he feels closest with. He is also slightly paranoid, and upon a flicker of movement, he could be startled and ready for combat immediately. He is often found speaking to himself in battle, or in high-stress situations, relaying his strategic motives to himself before actually enacting them. He is also extremely sarcastic, taking advantage of any opportunity to verbally whither away someone else's morality. To put it lightly, he's a crazy sociopath.
Likes: He loves the pain of others. He believes all humans, himself included, are idiotic beings that need punished. He is often found grinning while being physically tortured, or assisting in torturing someone else. He is also fond of those that actually learn how to get close to him. He knows how difficult it can be for others to willingly connect with him, so he does not let the few friends he has go. He also finds some odd liking to the female gender. He seems to connect with girls more, and usually finds them generally less annoying than men.
Dislikes: He hates narcissists. Anyone full of themself is even more of an idiot that normal people, in his eyes. Everyone in this world who lacks common sense seems to be able to piss him off to a great extent, so when someone lacking common sense that doesn't think they lack common sense comes into his life, he makes sure he stays away from them. Or they may not wake up the next morning.
Motivation: Voltov Stormblood's motivation, strangely, is peace. He wants to find peace of mind. He grows weary of having his incredulous feeling of hatred and anger towards humanity, and he actually hopes that one day his anger will be calmed.
Fears: Voltov fears being outwitted by an idiot. The moment he is outsmarted by someone obviously inferior to himself in the intelligence department, is the day he cuts off his left big toe.



Stormblood Clan(WIP)

Bloodline:
Bloodline Ability:
Location:
Clan History:



History: The history of Voltov Stormblood is a fairly crazy one. No pun intended.

It all began one Summer morning, 18 years ago today. His mother gave birth to him in the village of Arashigakure. He was born into a very happy family of 5, his parents and two sisters being included. They were all a normal, functioning group of people; no apparent problems at all. His oldest sister was already 12 when he was born, and the middle sister was 8. His mother was 31 years of age when she gave birth to her first son, and her husband was 29 years old. Both his mother and father were Jounin-ranked ninja, as well as serving ANBU operatives to the Kage (which he didn't find out until much later in his life). His oldest sister, Anya, was enrolled in the Ninja Academy and was preparing to graduate, whereas his second-oldest sister was just beginning in the Academy. His family was a part of the Stormbloods, a massive lightning-based clan that had been populating Arashigakure for generations.

When Voltov had turned 4, the real mayhem had begun. His parents had noticed that, at school, he kept to himseld. He rarely even looked in the direction of his parents in the home setting. His family was beginning to get worried, so they decided to send him to a pediatrician therapist, or a therapist for children. The therapist immediately began trying to dig into the toddler's mind to find the solution to his problems.

"Young child, how do you feel when other people look at you? Does it make you feel angry? Scared? Talk to me, child," the middle-aged woman said. She was garbed in some crude attempt of a pink shirt, with a wide black skirt underneath backed by leggings and heels that barely fit around her massive kankles. The overweight woman stretched her shirt to the very limits, and Voltov swore he thought he heard the stitching screamed as it was slowly pulled apart. He didn't like her voice very much. It was hoarse, like a smoker's voice. A smoke that had been diagnosed with various lung diseases throughout their life and still who chose to keep smoking. It was a shrill version of any normal voice that Voltov had heard from humanity thus far. She also used the word "child" too much. He stared at her. She looked confused, and almost frightened, as the small menacing child stared blankly at her for minutes upon end. "Child, did you hear me?" There it was again. Child. The word like a rusty nail being dragged down upon a piece of brittle slate: an unbearable screeching. He knew that he was a child. Everyone that saw him knew he was a child. Why did she find the need to unnecessarily keep repeating it? It was common sense. She needed to stop. He closed his eyes in attempt to calm his racing thoughts.

Voltov then proceeded to leap at the woman, clawing and gnashing. He stuck his tiny hand into her eye-socket, and pulled out her eyeball. He held it in the palm of his hand, still staring blankly at her, and smashed it into her forehead as hard as he could with the optic nerve still attached. He heard a *pop!* as it made contact with her forehead, and the guts of the eye shot out of the pupil and onto her cheek. She made a loud belch of pain. It annoyed him. It angered him. He scratched at her face, creating deep gashes the length of her entire face, and yanked her hair out. He was a raging ball of child-insanity. Her screams dug into his mind like a fishing hook drives into the gill of an innocent fish. It was painfully and unbearable annoying. He grabbed the "Best Therapist" award plaque from her wall, and then beat her repeatedly in the crown of her head until blood spurted out of the wound, and she fell over dead. Even after she was dead, he continued beating the lifeless corpse of a therapist until the resonating ring of the word "Child" stopped ringing through his ears. Covered in the blood of his victim, the small child let out an evil and maniacal laugh of triumph.

Then, he opened his eyes. There sat the therapist in front of him, still staring at him and expecting a response from him. He stood up, and walked over to the window at the south end of the room, taking small, toddler-like steps. Each step a pitter-patter of his insanity. He opened the window, and before the therapist could react, he leaped out of the window and walked away from the building from which he had just escaped.

His parents never heard from it, and he vanished from existence. Secretly, he lived in the outskirts of Arashigakure. He trained vigorously in the ways of his clan until he was 9 years old, being far away from the rest of civilization in the village. He lived so far away in order to separate himself from the annoyances of commonfolk, and to attempt to calm his obvious mental issues. Suddenly, he re-appeared for the first time to fight in the Chuunin Exams. He mercilessly beat his first two opponents, but was rendered unconscious by the third. Therefore, stripping his victory of the Chuunin Exams, but promoting him still to the rank of Chuunin. After the Exams were over, he lived away from his family whom he hadn't spoken to in 5 years, and lived among the rest of the people. To this day, he lives in Arashigakure, awaiting adventures to find him and take him away. Or so help him, someone's gonna die.


RP Sample: One day, Voltov was walking through the Temple of Thor overlooking the village. We wandered around the sacred grounds for a little over an hour, lost in pensive thought. He couldn't help but think about the might and power that Thor had held in his massive palms and hammer that could shatter mountains. He had all that power, and still ruled with a just hand. How was could anyone be so calm with that much power? Voltov, all his life, had been confused with why he feels so angrily towards people, and sometimes found himself envying those who thought normally. Those who could love others, instead of holding morbid hatred towards their entire state of existence. He would soon go on a humbling mission. He wanted to train himself vigorously, even pain himself, and maybe he would be worked so hard that he would be forced to look at life from a different perspective. That was the idea anyway. As he was thinking this, he passed a homeless man lying on the ground. If he wanted money so bad, why wouldn't he just go get try to get a job? Put a little effort into it? He proceeded to kick the old man as hard as he could in his gut, sending him rolling and wheezing for air across the marble floor.

"Eh. No need to start now."