Country Affiliation: Wanderer
Race: Fanalis
Tier: D
Specialization: Strength
Age + Birthdate: 27 | Aug. 11
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Hetero
Personality: This individual possesses a persona that is almost unorthodox in the makings and mannerisms of what one can expect. Ryosuke possesses an innate prospect of a code of chivalry, a chivalry that has led his life on to becoming quite the prospective demonic cook. His nature of upholding the most elegant of rules on life were most necessary for him to follow in his line of work. Protect the innocent ingredients at any cost, and due to the need of any cost his reasoning may well be locked in every manner of being. This nature projects itself though, his ideal destiny of helping others' palettes aided and lead to succumbing to the needs of desire in the food he makes.
With this much known and said, it goes on to something further as to know that he has a very absolute thought process. He is unique by matter of speaking that his refined taste of sin is that of the contract holder's blood. He will purify the blood from the contractor's body, normally from which the soul meal is he makes at last. This act is a crescendo, one of such mad aching that it undergoes something akin to a ritual now that Ryosuke utilizes it many times for which he cooks and eats at the same instance. Now knowing his code of conduct and following suit the nature of his outer shell all that is left is the way he treats others. That is the matter of high discussion as it depends greatly upon individual however needless to say he treats them equally and with good reverence.
A kindred spirit all alike that he possesses little to no ill will towards such individuals. In times of passion, Ryosuke is a hopeless loss and yet a romantic at that. His idea of romance is candle light, full moons, soft playing music, and all what a generalized public would call a feminized viewpoint, much like what he's written in the past few hundred years. However to him, he enjoys that stuff because of his feline-esquire nature. He can be a bastard at times, cruel and unusual in word and voice to someone he feels love to, but that is like anyone who had gone to high school, hate and love are two sides of the same coin. His natural familiarity of love is to that of females, females who need no checklist to fill to be perfect in his eyes as none can ever be truly perfect as he has come to believe, if only he could get past that bosom problem.
Likes: Spice, smoke, soul, and salt; whereas what do these all have in common that ‘Suke loves so much? It is the fact that all of them are ways of preparing food. Spice to enhance the flavor, smoke to embellish the meats over time, soul to show the love, and salt to provide a finale to it all. What’s next on the chef’s mind? It would be music, the creation of an audible sound that quite enthusiastically designates the flavor amongst the wind.
Dislikes: Those without a palette, full of themselves, and contradicting know it all individuals all bother ‘Suke for one reason. They cannot host responsibility because they feel themselves as winners and they cannot truly acknowledge true responsibility until they’ve acknowledged a loss. Fluid motion is another thing he quite obscenely dislikes, the travel by boat especially so it is not too bad to say he gets sea sick, which fate be had it humorous given his location.
Aspirations: ‘Suke aspires for one thing ultimately and that one thing is to become the ultimate chef. Needless to say the beast of a man is quite diligent in his work and can quite easily be noticed as none other than a mindless creature of fighting. However as a hopeful retainer to some being somewhere he hopes to provide the best of foods to that individual or anyone whom he meets.
Phobias/fears: Mastrophobia, or rather it is called “the fear of breasts.” Now for ‘Suke this means something rather different than the norm, it actually means well-endowed breasts, those that men fantasize being squeezed between for good measure can be something of measure. The reason for this is due to ‘Suke having been raised on the milk until he was well among the age of nearing pre-teen. So it was quite hapless to assume that he became this way overnight, and whenever he encounters such breasts, the physical fear has him cowering like a mere human, his abilities and strength are all halved unless he is incapable of seeing and/or feeling them.
Face-Claim: Kenshin Himura from Rurouni Kenshin
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Blue
Height: 158 cm (5.183 feet)
Weight: 48 kg (105.821 pounds)
Appearance: His face is a gentle one, much like the entirety of his short appearance yet it is through that, that he possesses one that hosts a fatherly merged in maternal love. The eyes though are among something that one falls deep into a trance with if stared for too long for the irises are different yet merged with the sapphire eyes make one quite difficult to not spot. Something far more human with his face though is the light amount of scruff for a beard with which lining his chin it does. Whenever cooking the face contorts into a far more demonic appearance as eyes narrow almost possessively. The smile that seems so charitable almost can be compared to a psychopath in the midst of a murder during the cooking frenzy.
The clothing of choice is ideally a choice far beyond the average day to day work and traditionally garnishes from the samurai days of ole. It is a choice far beyond that which is generally normal whilst that his robes appear in that of a shinigami’s from ancient days. The clothing of choice black with a generally green undershirt. The top being fashioned as a shihakushō while the bottoms are full length hakama in said fashion sense. This is the wear of choice and with such is also accompanied by a straw hat of that brings a shadow over his everything above his cheeks and nose. His eyes glow their sheen of blue as normal nonetheless. His shoes possessively are a tan straw woven sandal, again ancient samurai dress all the same.
Ryosuke’s body is muscle, plain and simple for such lends the necessity of his height all the same. A puny heighted man with broad shoulders and pale white skin only darker than an albino by a few shades. The physique, upon which removing his shihakushō, one could see the rippling pectorals and the shaded abdominals of select choice. Removal of his hakama can show off the muscles that line one’s legs all the same as well. Such a lovely bodice only entices and yet provided keeps a delicious smell of chili peppers when the instance of bad odor could come up. His sweaty form smells of this strong spice yet when in all calmness it is odorless much the same as a freshly washed body.
Rukh Alignment: White
Special Traits: God’s Nose, rather a form of ultra-sensory capability for the sense of smell. Capable of picking out every spice and ingredient in a dish that could hide a drop of sweat, and yes that would be smelled as well. It is one trait he is quite proud of and often times uses it to show off his cooking talents at times. Battle capability is nigh negligible given the concentration put into this requires a certain state of mind not found in a battle field.
History: Birthed upon the hay and graces of small farmland where doctors were scarce, comes the man of strange past to life. The rumor of his birth was the situation of being born and never wailing a cry. It was a shock upon which was without satisfaction to the mother whom had limited life with her newborn son. The son who received the name Ryosuke, a name meaning holy child yet this child’s life was going to become far from that of the holy line of work. The father of the child was a demonic man, a bastard of a similar birth but the history seemed to repeat itself: that the demon had fallen for a human woman and birthed a son.
Luck was unwise indeed, as the years went on and the studious son studied and yearned for knowledge at a never quite quenching rate. His suckling years extending far beyond what a mother should have subjected her son to; furthermore, stressing the fact that she was incapable of saying, “No.” Perhaps this is the reason for his fear of those cow udders known as breasts by the right of his phobia that haunts him to the present day. No such luck to behold when he can only find himself undergoing a far more tormented path. This however ended when at last his age had hit a marker in life. The turning stone that his father prepared him for since birth to the age of rough mid-twenties.
His mother, the first of many feasts of human souls he contracted and cherished upon in a less than biblical sense. The contract for her, superficial in all nature, was a mere cooking of a meal that could satisfy anyone in life. The task took six months before the slowly turning demonic mind figured out that such a meal only needed to satisfy the wench of a mother herself. One whom he took care in procuring her soul and blood to create the most delicious of meals that only he could possibly perform. It was a subtle thing, the memories of her many years of life yet not too far from his own lifespan found themselves flooding his mind. It was then his power of demonic rebirth occurred, rather known as his father’s fate pressed upon him.
No longer bound in human tentative revelation and rather obscuring itself into the fates of time. The time went on and procuring a timeless age of business known as Keryosou Zengu. A business of having something lost will never return founded by the idea of the deteriorating palette humans possess. It was Ryosuke’s mission with this company to redirect this path. Further seen as his company lasted through the ages and kept itself alive by its influence expanding through the land. Such a path kept leading and empowering Ryosuke’s desire to cook the finest foods with even the worst for wear ingredients. To the human eyes, he always played behind the scenes. The continuum of his restaurant echoes even more, as he took it to the lands he travels without fail in any sense of the word.
Role-Play Sample: Spicy rice and chicken curry. His hands already getting in the mix as he began preparing the dish and creating it with what was available in the well-stocked kitchen. His hands massaging the many forms of the food available as well in the same mixture. Preparing a small bowl first he began to whisk away at the coconut milk, applying the curry paste and fish sauce together in equal quantities. His cooking equivalently provided by heating a skillet with a portion the size of his face at the same time.
Adding two table spoons of oil and heating until it breached the smoke barrier he began other preparations once setting the bowl down. Seasoning the chicken that he cut small chunks of with salt and pepper before tossing it on the skillet in a single layer. The skillet sizzled and popped, the chicken frizzling over the hot skillet. He continued though, turning it over once after four or so minutes, as it was browned on one side before transferring the chicken to a plate and pouring the fat off the skillet. Adding one more tablespoon of oil to the hot skillet, he incorporated shiitake caps and stir-fry to the same pleasing amount.
Allowing those to brown with the sizzling sounds all as well over a five minute period. Adding ginger and garlic to the stir fry, he stirred it up for one minute, flipping the ingredients in the hot skillet during such time. Adding the chicken, red curry mix, and water to the skillet to bring to a boil, he set it down and reduced the heat. Letting it sit there for two or so minutes, the chicken was now cooked all the way through and he now moved the ingredients all onto a dish on top of some rice. With a smile he began to garnish the dish with cilantro and orange skin peelings cut into small shaped flowers, just a couple though as to not overpower the dish.
With a finale to it, he squeezed a lemon over it and carried it up stairs for his hungry guest. Hopefully she liked curry, and without anything additional outside of this, he was quite pleased with what he made.
