[Ryuuchu Ichiro]

Age: 32

Eyes: Deep forest Brown

Hair: Midnight Black

Height: 5'8 ft

Weight: 165 lbs

Vocation: Ronin

Origin: Atara

[Detailed Description]

A long tired expression, accompanied with the scars of the past that melted into his aging face, formed the canvas of where his deep. sincere yet intense forest brown eyes were painted upon. A masculine jawline with slightly unkempt midnight black facial hair, grew around his lips and toward his chin, a blade of grass or wheat gently usually swayed with his whiskers.

His dark locks were held into one, freeing his face from it's usual obstructions, the winds freely letting it dance within its touch.

His garments were traditional and simple. A sugegasa sat upon  his head to cover and protect him from the sun, its reed-ed layers woven by his very hands. A simple white  uwagi housed his well aged body. Regardless of some layers of fat brought on by age, his body was still hard and well developed underneath, a more compact build than one boisterous of size. His arms practiced and toned, commonly hid inside the spaciousness of his uwagi;  many of times people thinking he was armless. A blue hakama taught around his waist was of rougher make yet the inner layers were smooth and silken, making the worries of chaffing a bit more arbitrary than not.

Though amongst the look of simplicity the sheath that was tied to his waist was extravagant, a dragon with many qualities of animals seemed to fly around the encasing, its golden artistry capturing it in an eternal majestic flight within the tapestry of the black sheath of his katana. Within the claws of the Celestial Dragon were gemstones. Set so flawlessly and tightly, one would think the dragon upon is hilt was real, it's might gripping them into place.

[After Duty, The Karma of Life.]

Ichiro let out huge gasping, torrid breaths as he leaped over a chasm. His destination met as he descended in an arching jump, his tabi's wooden soles screeching against the onyx ground. "Kare wa ikinai daishutsu!" a morbid neigh echoed through the obsidian cliffs. "Warui.. Totemo ga warui... " Ichiro let out trough his lips, holding the hilt of his rather long  katana. "Ryumaru" His body marred and scared, the sweat glistening off his warrior hardened body started to slow down. In what seemed to be an eternity of fighting in meifuma. "hell." A light smile breaches his stern face, cracking his stoicness for the time. "Hime-sama, boku wa anata ga yoku yatte iru negattsu." His locks untethered and loose a dry gust storming past him, the raven strings dancing violently amongst it. Soon after a violently thundering of hooves lept over the chasm as well. Uma-oni, their forever burning and decaying flesh sufficated the air around it. A few horse headed demons landed close to Ichiro , only to be met with a decapitating strike to their shins and a quick foot in the chest in quick succession. The Uma-oni's soon to be carcases plummeted with a neigh of defiance as it descended to the bottom of the pit.

With a heavy sigh he swings Ryumaru to the side, the blood splattering off it's sheen, clean. "This is the fate of all those whom have killed... Princess... I hope you are in the heavens now... I hope.. that.. I served you well.."

With a moment of peace given to him only at the cost of bloodshed as he looked up the burning skies of his damnation. "Heh," Ichiro smiled as  he wanders off. "Tanoshi to.. omoishiroi.. sukunakutomo.."