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inthemasquerade's Journal

Created on 2008-01-18 09:09:44 (#14704248), last updated 2008-01-18

0 comments received, 29 comments posted

Basic Account [Gift]

1 Journal Entry, 2 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 6 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	赤砂の蠍

Bio

See the cemetery sky

Name: Akasun no Sasori

Age: 42 Impossible to determine unless you ask; his body is physically the same as when he was about 21, though it’s been a long time since then. I don’t suggest asking how old he is, either, because he will simply glare and say that age is useless and that he is everlasting.

Status: Akatsuki and part-time toy-maker. It’s all about the children. Sasori hates children.

Carmine red and deep

Personality:
Sasori, in general, is disdainful of everyone and everything. He scorns the idea of death, and since everything has to die, he scorns anyone he comes across. Impatient, cynical, and forever sadistic (though less so than others he could name), Sasori does not come off as your bubbly ray of sunshine. Indeed, to close friends (if you could call them that), he is tolerant, and only that; to strangers, he is either distant or short-tempered.

Magic:
When he was a child, Sasori studied under the tutelage of his grandmother, Chiyo. She taught him the gist of many elemental magics, which he rarely uses, and the art of puppetry, which included making and commanding puppets. Making the puppets is straight-forward and uses little to no magic; commanding them, however, utilizes something puppeteers call “life-strings”. These are small, intangible strings that connect the magical energy of one being to another; a master puppeteer forms these strings in their fingertips and attaches them to whatever it is they want to control, be it a rock, a plant, or a human.

Also, since his puppets were once mages, Sasori can utilize any magic that his puppet used in life. His personal favorite is the past King of Wind, and his all-encompassing ‘satetsu’, or iron-sand; it is infinitely malleable, and as dense as Sasori so chooses.

Watch the oceans rising high

History:
Sasori was born to a very well-to-do couple in the village of wind, both grand mages and the rulers of their province (their rural province, surrounded by sand and wind and sun; rulers indeed). He had everything he could ask for, he supposed, though it wasn’t often that he cared; as a child, all he wanted was his mother or his father, or when he was feeling optimistic, both. He very rarely felt optimistic.

And so he grew up without parents, though not in the most literal sense, taken under the wing of one of Wind’s greatest mages: his grandmother, Chiyo. Chiyo taught him many things: how to keep the scorpions at bay with a nice gust of wind, how to cook his own meals with a simple fire spell, and most importantly, how to create and use puppets, using the rats in the basement as an example. Delighted at this fascinating art (for that is the only thing everlasting life could be described as), young Sasori began his practice.

Many years later, the village of wind was in turmoil; their greatest mage had fallen, disappeared, just like so many other great mages, and not even Chiyo-baa knew what to do. She raced to Sasori’s home and found Sasori’s parents, in a crumpled heap in the corner, like dolls a child has grown tired of playing with. Indeed, this is what they had become; young Sasori had turned his parents into his toys, intent on getting the attention he so craved.

He wandered the desert for some time, either avoiding people who wanted his capture, or using them for his own means; along the way, he cast aside his humanity little by little, turning himself into the sort of doll, puppet that his beloved parents were. Eventually, he came by a man calling himself ‘Pain’ and, after a grand battle (or a night of drinking, or a game of chess, or a simple talk; nobody is quite sure how the story goes anymore), was among the first of the Akatsuki, a group of powerful mages who abandoned their villages for something greater. His current whereabouts are unknown, though some say they’ve seen him wandering the countryside, picking off mages for his collection.

It's the human stain

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