Menma Hatoshi

by **Menma** Mon Apr 01, 2013 2:11 pm

.: | Menma Hatoshi | :.

Vital Statistics:

Name:

Menma Hatoshi

Occupation:

Rogue Assailant

Age:

19

Gender:

Male

Species:

Mortal
[Satsuriku]

Class:

Mortal

Height:

185 cm [6'1”]

Weight:

95.25 kilos [210 lbs]

Appearance:
Menma Hatoshi Menmax_zpsc0639e3b

Menma has a neutral complexion, the skin pigments resembling a buff skin tone from one who's worked many hours under the torturous sun. His skin is coarse from the numerous amounts of fights he's thrown himself into, scars teetering up and down his lanky six-foot-one body. Not exactly packed with muscle, he appears to be oddly slender for a man his height, but he does have a masculine network striving beneath his callous-like skin. Choppy locks of ebony hair invade his head, his bangs falling to the tip of his upper eyelashes, whilst two thicker locks frame the sides of his face. The assailant has skobeloff-blue eyes, uncanny in perspective and ravaged by bloodlust. Odd and deep circles outline the lower eyelid, giving the man a restless look to him. On each cheek, three harsh scars—all parallel to one another—saunter along his cheek, long and deep. Though most scars appear a pink hue when healed, Menma's kept their bloody value. As for attire, the rogue can be seen (in public) wearing a long slate-gray coat that has white fur outlining the collar, as well as the hem of the hood. Never is the hood worn to conceal his face, because the boy wears a porcelain mask that resembles the blank face of a dog, a small snout protruding the brittle glass. The ears are short and sharp, and the eyes are cut out to be shaped like an olive—oval-like and thin. Red paint lines run along the mask in different designs, all resembling the bloodlines of those he's demolished with his own tainted hands. Menma wears black pants that appear to be baggy around the thigh area for freedom, segueing to a tighter fit towards mid-calf, and down to his ankles. He wears a pair of dark maroon combat boots that are mid-calf as well, never tied fully to the top of the boots. Along his forearms, fingerless opera-length black gloves wrap themselves in studded maroon leather straps, sometimes concealing the appearance of poison-induced blades that he uses to discreetly capture his prey. As for his upper body, he wears no shirt beneath the heavy coat.

Relations:

N/A

Personality:

As a child, Menma was taciturn and distant towards his affectionate parents, never truly acknowledging their care and love for him. He had been the typical child who didn't really care for those around him, as a result of being too caught up in his dream of being better than those he was surrounded by. Having been born in a wealthy community, Menma learned to despise those who were more fortunate than him, and therefore wished to out best them all one day. Despite his distance with his family, he was very respectful towards his older brother, Sora. In a sense, Menma gained an unhealthy obsession with his older brother after seeing how everyone looked up to the then-fourteen year old. He could never grasp how the fortunate saw the unfortunate boy, Sora, to be so wonderful and great, even if he didn't hold such high status like the rest of the citizens. This obsession led to his struggles on trying to be an exact replica of Sora, where he'd physically harm himself if he messed up in the process. He found it difficult to mock such a kind and trustworthy personality like Sora's, later on loosing his own persona in the process of trying to imitate his brother. At the age of thirteen, Menma came to realization with how corrupted he had become in the excursion of trying to be his older sibling, soon throwing away the dream of wanting to be liked and praised like Sora. As he grew further away from the dream, his personality was swallowed up by a new indifference, having become cruel, cynical, somewhat arrogant, unreasonable, and devoted the next six years of his life to kill those who brought him misery for not looking up to him.

Before setting off towards his own path of destruction, being around kids his age was misery for the boy. He was unwilling to cooperate with any of them, as he felt they would provide him no aid in furthering his secret ambition to be his own person of bloodlust and enmity. Their pathetic innocence and carefree demeanors disgusted him, and therefore he refused to acknowledge those his own age. As time passed on with this new path of cruelty and with further corruption, Menma had grown much more cruel and ruthless, with the remaining morality fading rapidly. When the time had come for him to obliterate his brother, and to put an end to his shining greatness, Menma had the twisted thought of attempting to kill Sora's then-pregnant wife. As he had conjured the plan, he experienced neither shame, guilt, nor remorse for such a thought. And when that day did come, he simply laughed at her pleas to spare herself and his nephew.

Now nineteen, all hope had been lost in Menma when he succeeded in bringing death to his brother and sister-in-law, as well as those in the small city he grew up in. After expressing a feeling of exhilaration that he had never before felt upon killing Sora, and even declaring that he sees that killing the members of the small city as a high priority and satisfaction, he now appears to be disturbingly sadistic and horrifyingly cruel with black humor, finding it utterly humorous when his victims cry for mercy. Menma unfortunately has gained both a superiority and an inferiority complex, unwilling to acknowledge when someone is stronger than him, but oddly obsesses when he believes that they are. If seen as stronger, the boy refuses to give up until that person has been killed by his own hands, wishing to become even more superior by exiling those who appear stronger. The young man can be highly sarcastic at times, never taking anything serious no matter how horrid the situation may be.

Sexuality:
Menma is straight, though his sexuality cannot be defined right away as a result to his obsession with destruction and bloodlust.

Preferences:

N/A

Likes:

Fighting
The Sight of Blood
Knives
Hand-to-Hand Combat
Playing with Fire
Killing
Chicken Seasoned Ramen

Dislikes:

Crying
Screams
The Sun
Shirts
Complainers
Guns

Back story:

History:

Brought into this world with an unfortunate condition, Menma Hatoshi's lungs were given the breath of air in the midst of winter. Born two months earlier prior to his supposed expectancy, the newborn was diagnosed with a valvular heart disease, and suffered many complications growing up. Due to his parents being low class, they could never fully treat the child's disease; with this downfall, any day could have been his last. He was never given the opportunity to play with other children, nor live the carefree way of any child. As a result to this disease, he gained malicious hatred towards his parents for casting such a 'curse' amongst him, failing to see why he, out of all the children in the world, was suffering such animosity and pain at only seven years. His older brother, Sora Hatoshi, had it all. He was popular, despite their low class in the rich environment they teemed within. Sora had this kindness that everyone adored, and a smile that was so reassuring. He was looked up to by everyone in the community. Even Menma. Sora was that one kid who—despite having more important matters to attend—would constantly arrive late to any event due to the good deeds he ceased to do, such as aiding the elderly. Having made it a point in his life to do so, he once told Menma that doing good deeds was a positive thing to do, and that by doing good deeds, one benefited well; by helping any elderly, he later on knew all the elderly persons in the small city they lived in. He was also a calm, collected boy at the age of fourteen, and highly perceptive. He had all the traits of a perfect child, a child who was praised by those who knew of him; Menma, on the other hand, was a child of ignorance and animosity. His brother was the radiant light of the Hatoshis, whilst Menma seemed to resemble the never ending shadows that balanced out the vibrancy of light. No longer wishing to strive in such a cold and dark realm, Menma created the dream of being an exact replica of Sora. He dreamed of being respected and loved by those who knew of him, and he had a great desire to be optimistic in such a cruel world, just like Sora. From that day fourth, Menma pushed himself forth to follow in his brother's light.

Though, not every start can be finished. For a year, Menma analyzed his brother, observed his vocalizations and how he interacted with those he encountered. Menma found it incredulously difficult to surpass the benevolence his brother wielded; he allowed others to get off the hook whenever they had done wrong, and he always let people take the upper hand in some situations with stupid logic. This, in Menma's eyes, was a trait of weakness. It was appalling to see that such a child of greatness allowed others to surpass him. This had led Menma into a state of confusion; had he wanted to be just like Sora? Had he wanted to be the nice boy who let others push him aside in some matters? In the process of his obsession to pursue such an idolized personality, Menma had lost his own persona. Things seemed wrong when they should have been right, and things seemed right when they should have been dead wrong. At thirteen, Menma who no grasp on who he was. Torn between optimism and pessimism, Menma had become corrupted in such a worthless and childish dream. Though he had fought so hard to be like Sora, the citizens still looked down upon him, and saw him as a nuisance. This realization of a broken dream created chaotic paths for this hollow child. Menma soon viewed his brother as an impish man who ruined those who looked up to him. He ruined all hope in those who wished to be like him, because just as it had resulted in Menma's case, they'd all lose their grip on their own unique personas. It was a psychological projection of his—to spread his tragedy to others who had dreamed the same dream as him. From that day forth, Menma pushed himself away from his sibling, and never wished to be near the man again. Engulfed in hatred once more, Menma fell into the hands of angst and grudge, walking in such a dark path that no light could stain. Those who looked down upon him became new targets for the young boy, wanting nothing more but for their blood to taint his hands for raining such hell and misery upon him. All he had wanted was to be respected, and even in his futile endeavor to better himself, such a weak plea was ignored; despite his hard work, he was still looked down upon. He began to question how to better himself in ways that did not resemble Sora. Ways that could bring him satisfaction, and a sense of high that 'good deeds' brought. It was in the beginning of autumn, when the leaves were burnt orange and crisp to the touch, that the answer was given to the boy.

A fight had broken loose, a spar between Menma and a fellow classmate outside of school. He had been labeled as a depressed 'pansy', a boy who always relied on the 'Mighty Sora'. He was told that he could never come close to being half the man his older brother was, greatly fueling the hatred within Menma. And so, he took his first hit at the kid. He had succeeded in popping the kid right in the face, having never felt such adrenaline and satisfaction before. The poison that seeped through his veins and fed his angst was brilliant, and his heart had never felt so alive until that moment. Realizing that bliss was fed to him through the pain of others, as well as the sense of being superior, Menma attacked the kid, beating him bloody and swollen to the pulp. It was...the most exhilarating feeling ever! The power of being the upper dog, the sense of putting one down for doing him wrong....this was his good deed. Not good deeds for others, but for himself. Since that day, Menma had grown to be feared by those his age, seeing as to how he always broke into fights with boys who taunted him. His dream to obliterate those who brought him misery was budding. Though he had enjoyed fighting, it began to simmer down his sense of satisfaction, and he soon grew bored of sparing his victim.

Death. A common fate all beings shared. One that he too, would one day take on. Beating up people was amusing, yes. But death seemed even more exciting. At the age of sixteen, Menma fixated his first kill on a few weak targets: his mother and father. He believed that they had been the cause of his misery, for cursing him with such a weak heart. Therefore, they were to be sent to their graves first. Despite his strong hatred towards them, Menma had slight hesitation in the planning of exiling them. He knew that it hadn't been exactly his mother's fault for his heart disease, but he did indeed blame his father for not following through his education and having a career that could have paid off the pain the boy endured. With little morals still burrowed within, the boy decided to shield his identity behind a dog-like mask, not wanting his parents to die with the burden of knowing that their son was going down a path of bloodlust and destruction. Deep down, he knew that they tried the best they could for him. But in the end, it wasn't good enough. His mother had been first to be put to her sleep, having slit her throat from behind as she was tending to laundry. Simple. Ruthless. And then, it was time for the man who ruined this boy's chance in being a healthy kid. The man who ceased him from being like all of the other children: happy, carefree, affectionate.

Death had been brought upon the Hatoshis with sheer simplicity. They were a family that could have been, but never were, due to the discreet threads of hatred that kept them far apart. And so, with those foolish beings out of his way, it was now time to bring down the one man who smothered Menma in his bellowing shadows of greatness: Sora. To kill a man, one must take their most prized possession. Menma didn't want to truly kill off Sora, yet. He wished for him to suffocate in agonizing misery, just like he had all his life. And so, death do them part! Sora had a wife who was near nine months pregnant; not just take one beloved, but two beloveds, at once. Menma knew damn well how much the stupid woman had meant to Sora, as well as that annoying child. Having disposed his parents' corpses in the lake behind their house, Menma ventured off towards Sora's house that had been on the other side of the city, not even bothering to clean up the mess he left behind.

And I'm getting pretty lazy so, to sum it all up, Menma kills Sora's wife. Sora is enraged, so he and Menma get into a fight. During the spar, both boys are going at it—Menma cursing him out for making his life hell, and Sora trying to convince Menma that he could still live life to its fullest and change his perspective of it being a horrid world, because he was still a young boy. For a moment, Menma had paused to consider such words; in this opportune moment of hesitation, Sora had thrown himself at his brother to knock him down, but the sudden action had frightened Menma, causing him to hold up his knife in defense. The blade impaled itself far into Sora's chest, causing Menma to panic as he realized that all this time, he hadn't actually wanted to kill his brother, but rather just have him experience the sadness and misfortune he had. Not knowing what to do and corrupted by the fact that all this time, he had never actually wanted to harm his beloved brother, Menma stayed at his brother's side until death greeted him warmly, Sora's last words being: "Being...the best isn't all...it's made out to be. W-when you're strong, you become arrogant and...withdrawn... Even if what you sought after was your dream.You and...I? We are flesh and blood, Menma... I'm always going to be there for you, even if it's only as an obstacle for you to overcome.... Even if you do hate me...because that's what big brothers are for." Though Menma had experienced a soft moment before his brother's death, it wasn't long until he snapped back into his sadistic nature as he saw the life sluggishly slip from his brother's green irises. With his dream now reality, he felt superior to all.

That night, Menma ran away from the city, fleeing with only the belongings of a cape his brother used to wear, a dog-mask, and the very own knife that had been tainted with the Hatoshi family's blood. It was reported that all members of the Hatoshi family had been murdered, including Menma himself. With this escape route, he was able to flee to a far away city known as Omoi Ame, having heard that it was a special city that held many unique beings within it. Unique beings who could only make him stronger.

by **Ivory** Tue Apr 02, 2013 1:11 am

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