Lito Johazaki (Deceased)
Sigiken Johazaki (Deceased)
Vincent's first few years of his life are a haze, a blur of feeling hunger and pain, suffering. The agony of living in Janwald's lawless district, named thusly because of the regulators inability to tame it, the monsters it spawns, both human and inhuman and the odd inner law, like anarchy where people are free to do what they want, how they want. It was this anarchistic freedom however that led Vincent to train himself, practice day in and out, six hours a day, every day for well over seventeen years. Always pushing himself, always striving to improve himself, to better himself in a way that put him or tried to put him at the top of the food chain. It was a simple-natured goal, one that any person could respect of someone so small and scrawny.
The people that finally caught him were bandits, thieves, pillagers, whatever other names one could call an outlaw at the time. But he wasn't scared, ten years old and looking like a skeleton draped in leather, emaciated and starved, with a near feral look in his eye, he instead raised his fists, bared teeth and fang and in all honesty, he should have been cut down at that point. But that little brat fought like a demon, utilizing some kind of hidden well of strength that was innate to him, innate to some other well known monsters on the island. This wasn't so much a showing of endurance, an ability to continue on one's own reserves of physical power, the boy barely had any of that left when he stole the food. No, this was a sheer force of willpowr that fueled him into pushing back. And it impressed. The groups leader's took him in, adopted the little bundle of feral wild child as their own kid, claimed they liked him because of his guts but the truth is with so many people like Vincent, they saw something in him, maybe a dead child or a lost brother or sister, or their mother or father. Painful memories and tearful memories always accompanied the cursed ones and whatever the reason, they hid it well.
But they loved that boy as he grew up, they weren't really bad people, no one could easily be categorized as bad people in the lawless district, just people looking to survive and the people driven mad and over the abyss of desperation. No one was a bad person, it was all bad circumstances that led them to their actions and, and Vincent and them were like the law in a sense in the lawless district. Why'd they try to keep the peace? Because they wanted to, they stole and pillaged from the people who didn't need the food, or hoarded their food. They kept a small percentage of it and gave the excess to people that needed it. It was like a robin hood story of sorts, one that unfortunately, didn't have a really happy ending. Maybe.
Vincent's time with the Johazaki clan, short lived as it was, had gotten him onto his feet in a manner of speaking, stabilized the once feral boy, civilized him. They taught him how to read, how to fight, how to enjoy what little life can offer, to make the most out of just about everything. Even taking from other people when it was needed. But above all, he was taught that friends and family were important like carpenter's glue. That they, that is friends and family/loved ones, like the glue could keep you together when everything looked like it was all going to fall apart. So he trained harder and harder, and harder still, determined to grow strong enough to protect his family and the friends within the clan.
Vincent was mentored on the simplest of fighting styles, boxing and surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he ate up how easy it was to learn. Pushed himself to the extremes of what normal human tolerances could be considered, pushed past those tolerances, and yet again, pushed further down that path. It was like watching a monster in motion, the reavers or the skrakes, it was like that. Only with someone who looked like and could pass as human in most situations. Had to remember that, the Pariah weren't human, they were but they weren't it was a tricky thing to explain. But he learned by example, developed by watching and applying what he saw and learned from the local fauna. The reavers taught him how to disorient targets, to take them apart with unrelentingly brutal speed while the skrakes, the islands very own living chainsaw of a beast, taught him that you can apply that speed to strength. A surprise of power packed into the speed.
He practiced so long and so hard that by the time he was an adult, a man by any other name, he felt different. Not in the sense that he looked different, which he did, but different, like odd different. They felt it was a hard thing to explain, almost like despite how free he seemed to look and feel, it was like there were chains on him, somewhere, holding him down. And the last lesson he learned was a surprise in of it self. This was one taught by a regulator of all people and it taught Vincent, the value of getting angry sometimes.
Vincent had been out on the outskirts of the area, it was actually mating season for the skrakes and they were getting a bit violent, so he had spent some time actively....fighting them off and away from populated areas. Beating them to death with his bare hands of all things, a feat in of itself given their steel like hide and that strength that could rip into reinforced armor plating like it was cheese paper. It was also incidentally good training, repelling the occasional mating pair looking to expand their territory. It wasn't until well into the evening that he was on his way home for a much needed break, when he saw the first plume of smoke, the explosions, and heard the screams before he saw the initial carnage. The fear gripped his veins and his heart like sheets of ice as he rushed forth, through the ruins of one of the old cities they used for their base. There was blood and fire, bodies, the stink of....it was a distinct odour, like burning pork when he finally figured out what it was, saw what it was coming from. Saw the culprit...beat his father into the floor, beat his head, until it was wet crimson and smashed chips of bone.
It was you could say, a defining moment for Vincent one that didn't quite shake his very core foundation but there was a realization to be had, that through the thrumming, beating drum in his head that turned out to be his beating heart. It was a dull, blurred feeling, one that became crystal clear it was hate, anger, spite, fury, every combination, variation or whatever other word you could think of that could describe a strong feeling of hostility. And it was aimed at these people.
He felt like he did as a child, wild, unfettered, hostile to most all things about him. He had learned to appreciate all living things, but at the same time, to take no gruff from them. All things precious all lives precious but, if he had to kill, he had to kill. And there was such a murderous fire burning in those gray eyes that you could almost see it from a hundred yards away. He spared no surprise when he cleared the first one, tore him off his old man's body with a punch so hard, so fast, so packed with energy that it sounded like a bomb going off. And yet he was trailing along, beating this person, almost dancing from side to side as he pushed him into a wall, pushed him through the wall of rusted steel and crumbling concrete. The punch that came next obliterated his torso, incinerated it in a swathing cloak of energy.
He was a monster, that much they could feel. He felt like them, like someone who read naturally low to someone with ki sense. But he wasn't like them, he was, worlds apart and it was a wonder they never encountered him until now. But they had the numbers, the skill, the drive, they would beat this criminal like they beat his companions! But he wasn't letting his anger burn out of control like a forest fire, surprisingly he had focused it all into one single laser guided strike. He was still angry, no doubt about that, still had murder in his eyes as he tore them apart with precision. Hammered what it felt like to be powerless into them with each of those cannon like fists. One of the few cases of Vincent not holding back and he did so for good reason.
He never lost himself in the hate, the anger, he didn't let it control him. He controlled it, he had those mental plates in place in record time through the whole fight. He was pissed no doubt about that and the fight, well not so much a fight as a slaughter, didn't last long. He spent some time burying the dead, no prayers to speak, no idea what to say other than a simple little thank you. He even buried the regulators after the fact, took some of their stuff though; they wouldn't need it in the after life.
But Janwald was, it was, there wasn't a home here for him anymore, no place to kick his feet up or chill and listen to his friend's stories. They were all gone, but he didn't let that hold him down like a pool of misery. He kept his head up high, moved as far away as he could, down south to Rodina. He started off small and worked his way up over the next four years, odd jobs and the occasional, well, let's not sugar coat it. Some of those job's were kill jobs, hits and assassinations, nothing to be proud of and certainly nothing to brag about.
But he save that money of his up, squirreled the pennies off and away until he bought himself a little run down building in a Kostran slum. Turned it around, whipped it up into shape as a boxing school, the smiling fist school of hard knocks he called it. A little homage to his adoptive father and this, well, this is where the story at least, a part of it ends and the beginnings of more stories, more tales, more adventures begins for a man that may be destined for great things or maybe not. Who knows?
One would think that a man like Vincent, a person who seemingly eats, breathes, and sleeps fighting wouldn't be very interesting at all. And that one person who believed that would be wrong. Vincent by default is a simple-natured person, raised to be humble and respectful of just about everything around him, but not entirely so to the extent that he's meek and or unassertive. In fact, this man reeks of confidence and determination; a near living force of willpower that embodies the idea that hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard. So for a person like him, someone with little talent for just about anything, he just works, throws himself into everything he does and gives it his all and then some.
Vincent's drive stems from his life as a child, living in a land where people regularly, in the beginning, laid down and died without a fight. He lost people, some he can't recall, some he recalls vividly as if they were still here. Loved ones, people he can't protect anymore but to those new loved ones, the people he befriends. he's a dogged type of person who never gives in, except to convictions of honour, and good sense. Never yielding to force and never yielding to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy. He'll have your back through it all the thick and the thin.
White; albeit different in that it doesn't show up around him, rather appearing on his body itself like an incandescent tattoo
Ryohei Sasagawa (Katekyo Hitman Reborn!)
As far as attractiveness goes, Vincent rocks a solid eight out of ten, ruggedly handsome. Not quite rough but not quite smooth and suave either. He is rather tall at five foot eleven with a lean ropy physique, lot's of muscle but none of it bulky; wiry, like steel cables. Vincent's hair is white and short, tousled up with spikes dotting here and there. His eye's are a dark shade of grey, like overcast skies. Vincent has a fair skinned complexion; pale but not to the point of albinism or "basement-dweller chic" He's a friendly looking guy, not at all as intimidating as some would think. He carries himself lightly, unassumingly, like, he gives off a vibe that he's not really all that strong which is false.
Oracite knuckle gloves
Vincent's gloves are special, both to himself and to the person that used to own them. Practically a pinnacle in engineering, these gloves are made from threads of oracite as thin as paper, woven together to make a pair of gloves. Flexible and comfortable, thanks to an inner lining of leather, these gloves allow him to condense his energy, as well as enjoying the benefit of being really hard to break.
The simplest form of fighting outside of just brawling, Vincent prefers this style of fighting because of it's simplicity, citing it as elegant and concise. Spending day after day, practicing for six hours a day, every day, for seventeen years without fail has allowed him to develop a fast as the wind boxing style allowing him to deliver incredibly fast, easy, yet surprisingly brutal blows like a living tornado; a force of destruction.
Yup, he's learned how to cook. It's nothing fanciful, just the odd spaghetti or goulash or steaks and hamburgers or something. None of that crazy five star crap. Just simple things by a simple natured person.
He's got an odd talent for instructing people on how to fight, probably has to do with his easy going nature than anything else. But he can teach someone who can't fight how to throw a vicious hook or jab in a few days.
Vincent can walk on air the same way some people can fly, by utilizing his ki to solidify the air under his feet. It's a bit different, where flight is actually using that energy to levitate and propel themselves. He uses that energy to solidify the air beneath his feet, allowing him to stay near someone who has flight. The effect is relatively simple, and takes very little to no concentration to keep it going.
Wind king's dance
A technique comparable to the fleshstep, Vincent's wind king's dance is a technique both used for offense and defense, allowing him to cover short distances at insanely fast speeds. The inherent similiarities to the flash step however, disguises it's fluid nature and the similarities of high speed movement ends there. The technique itself is a boxing technique he put together after watching reaver hounds utilizing their flash step to disorient and take apart large, dangerous quarry, like a skrake. And this is exactly how it functions at it's core, allowing him to move fast, keep someone off guard and hit hard with vicious hooks, jabs and nasty crosses.
A flurry of blows wrought from brute force and ki, Vincent's raging vulcan allows him to channel immense levels of ki into his upper body, allowing him to unleash a raging torrent of jabs and straights so much so, that the air begins to heat up around him. The attack is dangerous for two reasons the first being it's rapacious speed, it's as fast as the speed of sound, creating numerous sonic booms with each thrust and secondly, each strike hits twice. The secondary impacts coming from the shockwave and pressure and the ki being shoved into the person's body all mixing together to make a volatile combination. Due to the strain it causes on his body however, Vincent is only able to unleash ten mach vulcan jabs at one time.
Tiger flash cannon
A simple looking cross punch that he can combo with an uppercut. The simplicity of it hides a few things - the primier being it's power. This punch hits harder than it looks, as vincent forces an immense amount of ki into his fists that upon impact with the target is discharged in a shaped blast like a twenty foot long torrent of fire. It has the effect of being extremely punishing on a target as he also generally leads the initial cross with a heavy jab. The second thing that m arks this as dangerous is, he can also use that energy to deflect and empower a ranged energy attack right back at the aggressor, boosting it's strength with his own.
Willpower is an interesting thing, there's will the ability and faculty on which people decide and initiate actions then there's willpower. Which is control deliberately exerted to do something or to restrain one's own impulses. Vincent has both, everyone has both, can't avoid that at all really. But vincent however, has an unnaturally strong willpower for someone so normal. And it is through this insanely tenacious force of will that he possesses that Vincent has proven that one should never underestimate anyone, no matter how much of an underdog they may appear to be. This guy through something as simple as this willpower can out and out resist the ability to feel pain or fear, rage, hate, hell he's even shown that he can go above and beyond his own limits, to learn and develop at a faster rate than other people, even grow stronger through sheer force of will. And what's scarier is, there's no real sign of his growth ever stopping in the near future.
A simple name for a relatively unassuming technique, doping actually relates to blood doping in a sense where Vincent actually forces his blood to pump at a higher rate than normal, quickly supplying blood and oxygen to muscles . The pressure alone from this would kill a normal person, bursting the heart and veins like rice paper, but Vincent's body unconsciously solves that by strengthening his organs and veins, making them a little more malleable through ki enhancement almost like a rubber. The increased rate jump starts his heart-rate, a good analogy for this would be him having the preformance engine from a supercar where his heart would be normally. The effect of this "doping" is an exponential increase in strength, endurance and speed while the ki reinforcement as a side effect, makes him harder to damage. But in the long run? there's downsides, well technically one downside to the technique in that it's like an adrenaline rush cranked up to twenty. Much like kaio ken, it puts strain on the users body, pushes him right past his current limits and that, that's not good no matter what and while he can ignore the pain, he can't ignore the damage. Breaking bones and causing muscles to tear to say the least. It can absolutely put him down and out for a good bit of time if he's not careful and much like Kaio ken, best used in bursts.
A variant of the Mach vulcan. Utilizing a full body spread of ki to reinforce his muscles, bones and joints, as opposed to just in his fists and preforming the dempsey roll, Vincent accelerates his form and speed to a little over mach one. The technique is also unique, in that it also requires Vincent to enter his doping state before hand and, maintain a precise balance of ki and raw power. The effect is almost the same as before, with the initial attacks giving way to a secondary shockwave impact, however due to the inhuman amount of strength, the extra amount of ki and stamina put into the attack, each aftershock seems to hit with the force of a half ton bomb and due to the forced enhancement of his muscles and stamina, can throw fifteen punches (or five if he leads up to it with mach vulcan). Specifically due to the Dempsey roll, the original straights have become hooks aimed for the target's blind spots.
This is the state where vincent can truly live up to his moniker of wind king. This is him taking the chains off - all that compressed power being released not all at once, but in bursts, like a living flame trying to escape it's box. In this state he is many times more powerful, like a natural disaster given human form. There is a small lack of control, an ability like this is....special, being available to a select few of his kind, a rarity amongst the Pariah that took a monster like Ashimori Bamainen ten years to master. The relief vincent feels when all that energy is tapped into is relaxing, putting him into a state of calm that is so eerie and off putting, that some could describe it as more terrifying than any fury. The effect it has on his body is notable as all that energy gathers towards his arms and legs, hands and feet, glowing white hot, bright and incandescent. The remaining energy just flows about him like smoke caught in a gentle breeze.