HOSHIKUZU, JENA

jena hoshikuzu

appearance

This girl stands at a rather unique 5'5" with roughly 120 lbs to go, which is to point out as not entirely intimidating or menacing coming from the image of a former forager. To start with, her streaks of silky jet-black hair cascade from her scalp to her polished jaw, a rogue lock overlapping her nose nonchalantly yet without interfering with her sight range. It is true that many witnesses could agree that her complexion might be rare or stunning, what with the thin eyebrows, sharp nose and high cheekbones. Nonetheless, it would be reasonable to assume that her lustrous, striking magenta irises are what draw a stranger's attention due to the drastic contrast between the fragile pale skin and the dark void that is her hair.

Now then, it would be because of logic that the female Tengoku-nin adapted a fit build to survive the tainted and harsh land of the shinobi world, an accomplishment resulting from months of rigorous exercise and work-out. Out of the unfortunate gene that prevents her muscles to tone naturally, Jena is, notwithstanding, contempt with her slender limbs and strong muscles that gifts her a well-earned swiftness and agility. Regardless, her bones and nerves are somewhat fragile, forcing her to focus her training on other styles rather than taijutsu. As an addition, her left hand's palm possessed the signature emblem of her Advanced Nature Release; two grey diamonds, one overlapping the other, which gleam a vibrant crimson with an opaque-black outline when in use.

Would you not agree that, oh, so unfair sometimes the life of an orphan can prove to be? Considering that the girl did not exactly possess the ability to salvage most of her clothing previous to her small rebellion, then I believe we do abide here. Moving on, her outfit is simply of transfixing and exotic imagery, consisting of a body-tight grey tank top, hidden by an exuberant black jacket, on which two pairs of beastly claws protrude from the back (one emerges from the shoulder blades' position and folds over her shoulders to reach her collarbone, while another pair strike out from her spine's mid-section and travel through the ribs and stops below her bust) and a lighter black legging form skirt accompanied by dark shinobi zipped sandals. While the upper garments are either short-sleeved or no-sleeve-at-all, Jena's left arm is cosily protected by an arm-warmer that travels the skin until a few distance before the wrist, meanwhile her right arm possesses her Village's protector in the form of a white-clothed armband, not without a kunai's cut crudely scratched upon the borders of the metallic surface in a fit of paranoid doubt and crisis (don't ask).

Detailing in an obsessive-excessive fashion, Jena's right thigh has a shuriken holster laced around it, while her white belt holds two hip pouches on the right and an extra pouch dangling on the left. She is seen about wearing fingerless black gloves with holes where the knuckles accentuate, and a bright silver ring (the tiny diamond encrusted on it is of teal colour) decorates her right hand's middle finger. Wrapping her body up is a dull gray cloak that hides a milky white interior, and a chin-high collar with black outlines. It is used when Jena would prefer to travel inconspicuous.

personality

Ah, what a very complicated soul Jena is to decipher. Honestly, it would be a waste of time to list out all of the emotional unstable stages. It's not that she has a particular trauma or an aggravating mental issue. It's all about the choices shoved on one's face and the paths taken and explored in life that forge and build up one's true essence. Her better-left-unmentioned past is what moulded her loner, discordant and wandering heart. Let's start off with more simpler attributes, instead of bashing head-on to the complexity of her swinging.

For starters, terseness is awfully present, mixed up and boiled with a narrow-minded perspective leaning exclusively to what her glimpses witness. It would seldom be smart to persuade her otherwise, for she's packed heavily with a devastating batch of stubborn deductions and fiery insults to counter your suggestions. Why, you can't blame her, for she is strictly treating business as is. There has to be no hard feelings at the job, eh? Obey and follow, or fall behind. Oh, how to forget that innate instinct of leadership, pouncing almost instantly when her gut predicts it is necessary. There's no avoiding nor explaining it, you just roll with what abruptly happened.

It would be simpler to assume her aura of authority, summed up with her unbreakable will of iron and vigilant, alert senses, compliment that smug, sly and cold mind of hers. That cunning and analytical brain is always out there, on the pry with studious and observant strategies. Surprising yet efficient tactic when you're all out on your own, no? However, the ninja has a reputation for her brutally destructive honesty, and that is definitely something you shouldn't not be aware of. Remember this hint of advice; she won't struggle to keep a breath in, won't hesitate to run free her words (be it help or abuse). There is no need to regret any of that, after all.

In spite of this, she doesn't really find a reason to voice everything out loud majority of the time, and thus you might find her lips sealed for the remainder of the day. Upon this reigning silence, a sort of dreadful, awkward emptiness is prone to taunt whoever presence, leading one to ponder about how much of an okay idea it is to be around her. It shouldn't be taken hardly, nor should it be subject of intimidation, for it's because of that damned resentment that is utterly bleak and is reflected upon the Earth's surface in itself. It may be the world's fault her parents are missing, and that not even as a baby was she granted the possibility to meet them.

That abyss is crossable, anyway. Or at least when you are precarious enough to build somewhat of a link with her. Jena secretly is glad to have somebody to walk about and relax properly. It's not a good routine to warily clutch a kunai in hand and foresee any assault on her 24/7. She does have her mommy/daddy trust issues, but they aren't so grave as it would interfere with her risky, rogue path. All in all, Jena wants to live. Everything in life happens for a reason, so having severed ties with the Ōzenchi might have meant something for a near indecisive future.

history

Jena's childhood wasn't that of the clichéd tragic bedtime story. No, this was another level of solemn despair. Unlike others, the girl was welcomed perhaps alone into the world. Her parents, unknown for what she remembers or at least pictures them to be. In every inch of her conscience and every single second ticking away, she scavenged for traces of that long lost image of her fraternal and maternal figures, gods know why they had vanished so abruptly. And so time fluttered away like a butterfly's wings, and at age six, the girl realised they wouldn't appear any time soon.

Throughout her childhood, her frail legs toured her around the roads and pavements of the Land of Life, so the mysterious group of the Ōzenchi clan travelling there named the massive country. She was estranged as to why she found herself compulsively following the numerous united people around, resorting in them for her survival, perhaps as a motivation for her to find reason to her misery. Stripped of anything important and forced to fend on her own without food or shelter, she resorted to measly aid during scavenges, or even asking for a share of food to prevail over her struggle. Behind her eyes, she could only imagine herself resting on the rough dirt floor, her magenta eyes scanning the night sky whilst tears streamed quietly down her blank cheeks. Why her, of all souls? The repent tugged and clawed at her heart each passing second. What was she to do, feeble and delicate? The plain sight of children joyfully screaming and chasing one another, before being brought back to reality by their parents' loving beckoning, equalled the hurt of a sword slashing through the lungs. An ache so unbearable, it was inhumane.

It was then that a single thought lingered in that yet naïve brain of the girl's. To follow the route of a glorious shinobi, just like the other aspiring kids in the nomadic group; that was all there was left to do. She hadn't many options at the grasp of her hand, and to pledge allegiance to a cruel and devastating world was the only open door yet. She stepped through it, or through the assigned training grounds of the clan, to be exact. All of the children kept a close eye on the newcomer, since Jena was known among the fake ranks of the young society as an outsider, one not belonging to their rich blood. The only counsel left then where the supportive tutors, whom had taken into account the existence of a bizarre symbol edged to the palm of her left hand.

Getting used to the foreign, perhaps alien-like, knowledge and information and achieving acceptable experience were all that now mattered in her perspective. But not for long. A boy of shimmering golden hair and round, glittering amber eyes approached her one day, when every other apprentice sat at a considerable distance. He went by the name of Ichiro, and from that day on Jena realised the male had a persistence unmatched by any human abound. He walked with her, offered shelter with his branch family, gave her food and water. He even went as far as to gifting her a family's heirloom in the form of a silver ring with a teal gem.

The girl was confused, truth to speak. If the boy had only done such things out of pity then there was no reason to accept the items. She would gain it all herself, in due time. But no, he just had to be lurking about, always worrying about her health and well-being. The peace that was emanated from Ichiro's spirit was... a favourable change, really. It was different to the dramatic calamity she had been suffering all along with, and she was perhaps a tiny bit relieved to have someone by her side. Again, things do not last long. Foul luck only followed.

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