Post by Noboru on Oct 2, 2019 3:16:34 GMT
NAME: Komatsuzaki Noboru
CODE NAME: Simply goes by Noboru nowadays. Some time ago he worked under the hero name "Steadfast".
ALIGNMENT: Vigilante
TITLE: Formerly "The Unyielding Hero"
AGE: 25 years old
GENDER: Identifies as male.
QUIRK NAME: ANAEROBIC RESPIRATION
QUIRK CLASSIFICATION: TRANSFORMATION
QUIRK DESCRIPTION: Simply put, Noboru can function even in the absence of oxygen. He possesses a unique metabolic pathway that recycles lactic acid produced by anaerobic activity to fuel his body in the same way oxygen does. This results in him feeling muscular fatigue at a much slower rate than normal people and allows him to generally outlast people in terms of energy. While this secondary metabolic pathway is better in terms of energy yield than aerobic breathing, it is not without danger. Through extended usage of his quirk, Noboru will start accumulating toxic by-products that slowly acidify his blood. Symptoms of dizziness will occur after using his quirk for too long and once his blood becomes too acidic, his body will simply shut down. He is able to detoxify his body on his own, although it is done at a slower pace and will require some rest. Physically, he can perform at his peak strength and intensity far longer than anybody. By forcing both metabolic pathways to function simultaneously, he can exceed his physical limits, but he produces toxins at four times the normal rate. However, the true merit of his quirk lies in how well he can thrive in dangerous environments. With his quirk, he can survive underwater at even greater depths than normal people without fear of his lungs collapsing or the pressure crushing him (keep in mind that he is limited to what is possible for humans, except that he doesn't need the diving gear. He remains, however, susceptible to the cold). He can function as normal in disaster zones such as burning forests or buildings (provided he has access to at least some heat and eye protection) or areas where the air is toxic or hazardous. That makes him especially well-suited for rescue missions and precise maneuvers. Through the training of his quirk, he has significantly increased his lung capacity.
QUIRK POWER LIMIT: Noboru can perform at peak performances for three hours without feeling the effects of muscular fatigue. After that, the concentration of acid in his blood will significantly hinder him as sharp pain will gnaw at every inch of his body. While he can overcome that through willpower, his strength and speed will find themselves lowered significantly with symptoms such as dizziness and nausea on top of it. If he goes on for another hour, his body will simply shut down due to severe blood acidosis.
QUIRK TECHNICAL LIMIT: While he can switch from one pathway to the other freely, taking hits can forcefully activate his aerobic pathway due to normal body reflexes, much like gasping for air when taking a hit to the guts. Should that happen, Noboru will find himself staggering as he attempts to regain control over his "breathing" technique. While in aerobic breathing, taking significant hits to the body will cut his breathing short.
QUIRK FACTOR:
Power 1
Finesse 1
Stamina 3
SUPER MOVE: SECOND WIND > Noboru activates both metabolic pathways simultaneously, supercharging himself for up to 2 minutes. During that period of time, he can exceed his physical limits both in terms of strength and speed. When fighting in an oxygen-depleted environment, he can activate this technique by pre-emptively filling his lungs with oxygen. In this state, he creates lactic acid through aerobic breathing which is immediately used up by his anaerobic respiration to further energize himself. He actually generates more energy than he expends.
COSTUME: POWER GAUNTLETS > The only item he retained from his costume when he was still a U.A. student (through stealing). The gauntlets are like an exoskeleton that covers up to his elbows and accentuate his physical strength. The knuckles on the gauntlets are powered by a pressured piston and can extend for an additional 10 centimeters, delivering a sharp and devastating close-ranged attack. Each hit consumes a cartridge of pressured carbon dioxyde and the gauntlets can contain two cartridges per hand. They are so thin one could almost mistake them for some kind of high-tech prosthesis.
EXPERTISE: EXPERT BOXING > Making up for his only "normal" strength, Noboru has invested a lot of time into learning boxing as a means to cover his weakness. That makes him a solid close-combat fighter.
FLAW: THE *%#? YOU JUST SAID ABOUT ME? > He's hot-headed, acts recklessly more than he should and his impulsive nature often leads to bad decision making. He's particularly susceptible to insults and smack talk in general and will most likely act on the spot if provoked.
APPEARANCE:
-Around 6'2" tall
-Since he doesn't really have access to someone who can fix him up quickly (since he's acting illegally and police officers might be able to trace him back because of his injuries), he's a pretty scarred boy.
-Wears mostly hoodies and jeans.
-His hair is starting to become a pain.
BACKGROUND:
"It took me a while to understand that look on my father's face...
See, I was born in Sanya, Tokyo. Bottom of the barrel in terms of poverty. Half of the life there is lived on the streets and people have long since given up on getting their shit together. I lived there with my dad and his girlfriend in a small apartment that only had one bedroom. No mom in sight for as long as I can remember. Needless to say, I'd be home as little as I could since the place was so damn cramped. Very early in life, I learned that there are only two types of people in this world. The rich and the fucked...and there was no in-between.
I rarely saw any heroes patrolling in my area. The few times I did, it was to see them try to deal with drunks in the middle of the day. A scene that was both depressing and funny in some awkward way. The occasional shoplifter was apprehended every now and then, but other than that, they rarely set foot in this shithole. It didn't bother me as much back then, I simply thought pro heroes simply weren't as common as people made them out to be. What's more, people down here in Sanya didn't give them too much credit, blaming their state on them. What's the point of arresting that one drunk dude in the middle of the street when everyone around struggles to eat three times a day.
Well, to us kids, that reality became normalcy very quick and it didn't bother us. We knew how to deal with them and get our way around some more dangerous situations. Since expectations were so low and priorities were so different from the rich folks, we didn't have any goals in mind at that time. People born here were doomed to stay here. Some called it a curse, well, we didn't really give a shit about that. We lived our life, had our fun and while we each dealt with our own struggles, we didn't do so bad. School was a pain, but even the teachers had stopped trying after a while. If they could salvage one of us, it'd be mission accomplished for them...
I always loved my dad. He was doing a labor job on a construction site since he couldn't secure anything else after quitting school in junior high. He had re-married to this woman which I didn't like. She was mean, both to him and me, and I'd often hear them argue at night through these paper-thin walls. He'd often comfort me following these outbursts and I couldn't help but feel like something was going on, though at the time I was unable to describe it. He had this warm smile...but also these very sad eyes. In fact, he was the victim of both mental and physical abuse by his girlfriend. He had a quirk that allowed him to heal wounds faster, so he'd take the brunt of the damage and heal it off so it wouldn't show. By doing this, he'd also protect me in a way. Perhaps the only way he knew.
******
I wish I knew of his struggle at the time, I really do. I was twelve years old when everything took a turn for the worse. One day, after coming back from school, everyone was gone. Both my father and his girlfriend. The apartment had stayed mostly the same, aside from a few things that were missing. On the table, there were 25 000 yen and a phone number scribbled over a piece of paper. The phone number led to child services.
At first, I thought I could live on my own. That was short-lived, however. My meager funds were diminishing quickly and as a 12 years old boy, money income wasn't really a thing. I tried shoplifting for a while, got pretty beaten up as a result. Eventually, I surrendered myself to the police. I was hungry and angry and sad, I remember that clearly. For some reason, I thought I was the reason why they left, that I had done something wrong. They tried getting me into a foster family, but it didn't work out too well. Something about being too old to be interesting for adopting families. Whatever, I ended up in a juvenile center.
I attended school as normal, still conflicted about what I was going through. Funnily enough, I was also experiencing life in another setting. The atmosphere was much less heavy than it was back in Sanya, with people appearing happier in general. Heroes were much more common, too. That's when I got the idea to become a hero myself. So I could help the people struggling on the daily, to give them the push required to better themselves.
******
So I entered U.A., although by the skin of my teeth. I always knew I had a quirk, but I had trouble grasping its full effects. With some help from the counselor and a bit of street knowledge, I managed to get in as well. I wasn't the strongest, in fact I was probably one of the weakest in my class. Far from the most popular, too. I did take pride in the fact that I was one of the best when it came to rescue missions and that I was a pain in the ass to fight against. It's impressive how being a stubborn asshole with the ability to outlast everyone can come a long way.
Years passed and I honed my strengths as best as I could. Late into my third year, I kept being reminisced about the neighborhood I grew up in. Eventually, curiosity took the best of me and I paid a visit to that place, only to realize it was still as bad as it once was. What's more, it even seemed worse than before, given how I had been living in the comfort of the U.A. dorms as well as Musutafu in general. I tried to get in touch with my childhood friends. Some were missing, others simply trying to survive in this shithole.
While walking in the streets, I saw that old foul-mouthed granny that lived a few doors away from our apartment complex. She told me about how I grew up, how I was the lucky one, being able to get out of here to live a proper life. The discussion came the subject of my father and how I still had that bittersweet feeling about him. Part of me was angry at the idea of being abandoned, the other was thankful for the opportunity it gave me. She told me that, if anything, his action was nothing short of heroic. He had no money, no education and no way out of this life. By doing that, by being the villain in this situation, he wanted to see me out of this place. He couldn't afford to pay for a better apartment or a better school. After that, I remembered his expression. He clearly loved me, but those eyes, they saw the truth of our situation. How I would inevitably walk in his footsteps, how I would perpetuate this shameful cycle. Beyond anything else, he wanted to know that I would break free from this life and become someone worthy of respect. His actions had not been selfish, but selfless. And that's how I came to realize what being a true hero was. It's giving all you can, even what you can't afford to make sure you can save that one person.
I knew I had found my vocation at that time, but after that, I started feeling bitter about what was happening around me. My classmates all had that self-sufficient look, practicing their speeches and thinking about their public image more so than their deeds. While interning at a pro-hero office, I overheard some talks about how not everyone could be saved and how we, as heroes, should not be focusing our efforts towards the "lost causes". As an example, he cited the Sanya district and how the people were content with their poverty.
After that, I was simply disgusted. I couldn't get out of my head the idea that being a hero was just a business. Managing their popularity and their image, their heroic deeds serving as a way to gain the population's favor. Heroes only sought to help the good citizens, even if they weren't the ones who needed saving the most. That's why, a few months before graduation, I dropped out of school. I never set foot near the school again. Instead, I went back to the Sanya district to make a real difference there. I kept working to become stronger and compensate for my flaws and took upon the role of a vigilante to become what the young students aspired the become and what the pros miserably failed at. I became a real hero.
CODE NAME: Simply goes by Noboru nowadays. Some time ago he worked under the hero name "Steadfast".
ALIGNMENT: Vigilante
TITLE: Formerly "The Unyielding Hero"
AGE: 25 years old
GENDER: Identifies as male.
QUIRK NAME: ANAEROBIC RESPIRATION
QUIRK CLASSIFICATION: TRANSFORMATION
QUIRK DESCRIPTION: Simply put, Noboru can function even in the absence of oxygen. He possesses a unique metabolic pathway that recycles lactic acid produced by anaerobic activity to fuel his body in the same way oxygen does. This results in him feeling muscular fatigue at a much slower rate than normal people and allows him to generally outlast people in terms of energy. While this secondary metabolic pathway is better in terms of energy yield than aerobic breathing, it is not without danger. Through extended usage of his quirk, Noboru will start accumulating toxic by-products that slowly acidify his blood. Symptoms of dizziness will occur after using his quirk for too long and once his blood becomes too acidic, his body will simply shut down. He is able to detoxify his body on his own, although it is done at a slower pace and will require some rest. Physically, he can perform at his peak strength and intensity far longer than anybody. By forcing both metabolic pathways to function simultaneously, he can exceed his physical limits, but he produces toxins at four times the normal rate. However, the true merit of his quirk lies in how well he can thrive in dangerous environments. With his quirk, he can survive underwater at even greater depths than normal people without fear of his lungs collapsing or the pressure crushing him (keep in mind that he is limited to what is possible for humans, except that he doesn't need the diving gear. He remains, however, susceptible to the cold). He can function as normal in disaster zones such as burning forests or buildings (provided he has access to at least some heat and eye protection) or areas where the air is toxic or hazardous. That makes him especially well-suited for rescue missions and precise maneuvers. Through the training of his quirk, he has significantly increased his lung capacity.
QUIRK POWER LIMIT: Noboru can perform at peak performances for three hours without feeling the effects of muscular fatigue. After that, the concentration of acid in his blood will significantly hinder him as sharp pain will gnaw at every inch of his body. While he can overcome that through willpower, his strength and speed will find themselves lowered significantly with symptoms such as dizziness and nausea on top of it. If he goes on for another hour, his body will simply shut down due to severe blood acidosis.
QUIRK TECHNICAL LIMIT: While he can switch from one pathway to the other freely, taking hits can forcefully activate his aerobic pathway due to normal body reflexes, much like gasping for air when taking a hit to the guts. Should that happen, Noboru will find himself staggering as he attempts to regain control over his "breathing" technique. While in aerobic breathing, taking significant hits to the body will cut his breathing short.
QUIRK FACTOR:
Power 1
Finesse 1
Stamina 3
SUPER MOVE: SECOND WIND > Noboru activates both metabolic pathways simultaneously, supercharging himself for up to 2 minutes. During that period of time, he can exceed his physical limits both in terms of strength and speed. When fighting in an oxygen-depleted environment, he can activate this technique by pre-emptively filling his lungs with oxygen. In this state, he creates lactic acid through aerobic breathing which is immediately used up by his anaerobic respiration to further energize himself. He actually generates more energy than he expends.
COSTUME: POWER GAUNTLETS > The only item he retained from his costume when he was still a U.A. student (through stealing). The gauntlets are like an exoskeleton that covers up to his elbows and accentuate his physical strength. The knuckles on the gauntlets are powered by a pressured piston and can extend for an additional 10 centimeters, delivering a sharp and devastating close-ranged attack. Each hit consumes a cartridge of pressured carbon dioxyde and the gauntlets can contain two cartridges per hand. They are so thin one could almost mistake them for some kind of high-tech prosthesis.
EXPERTISE: EXPERT BOXING > Making up for his only "normal" strength, Noboru has invested a lot of time into learning boxing as a means to cover his weakness. That makes him a solid close-combat fighter.
FLAW: THE *%#? YOU JUST SAID ABOUT ME? > He's hot-headed, acts recklessly more than he should and his impulsive nature often leads to bad decision making. He's particularly susceptible to insults and smack talk in general and will most likely act on the spot if provoked.
APPEARANCE:
-Around 6'2" tall
-Since he doesn't really have access to someone who can fix him up quickly (since he's acting illegally and police officers might be able to trace him back because of his injuries), he's a pretty scarred boy.
-Wears mostly hoodies and jeans.
-His hair is starting to become a pain.
BACKGROUND:
"It took me a while to understand that look on my father's face...
See, I was born in Sanya, Tokyo. Bottom of the barrel in terms of poverty. Half of the life there is lived on the streets and people have long since given up on getting their shit together. I lived there with my dad and his girlfriend in a small apartment that only had one bedroom. No mom in sight for as long as I can remember. Needless to say, I'd be home as little as I could since the place was so damn cramped. Very early in life, I learned that there are only two types of people in this world. The rich and the fucked...and there was no in-between.
I rarely saw any heroes patrolling in my area. The few times I did, it was to see them try to deal with drunks in the middle of the day. A scene that was both depressing and funny in some awkward way. The occasional shoplifter was apprehended every now and then, but other than that, they rarely set foot in this shithole. It didn't bother me as much back then, I simply thought pro heroes simply weren't as common as people made them out to be. What's more, people down here in Sanya didn't give them too much credit, blaming their state on them. What's the point of arresting that one drunk dude in the middle of the street when everyone around struggles to eat three times a day.
Well, to us kids, that reality became normalcy very quick and it didn't bother us. We knew how to deal with them and get our way around some more dangerous situations. Since expectations were so low and priorities were so different from the rich folks, we didn't have any goals in mind at that time. People born here were doomed to stay here. Some called it a curse, well, we didn't really give a shit about that. We lived our life, had our fun and while we each dealt with our own struggles, we didn't do so bad. School was a pain, but even the teachers had stopped trying after a while. If they could salvage one of us, it'd be mission accomplished for them...
I always loved my dad. He was doing a labor job on a construction site since he couldn't secure anything else after quitting school in junior high. He had re-married to this woman which I didn't like. She was mean, both to him and me, and I'd often hear them argue at night through these paper-thin walls. He'd often comfort me following these outbursts and I couldn't help but feel like something was going on, though at the time I was unable to describe it. He had this warm smile...but also these very sad eyes. In fact, he was the victim of both mental and physical abuse by his girlfriend. He had a quirk that allowed him to heal wounds faster, so he'd take the brunt of the damage and heal it off so it wouldn't show. By doing this, he'd also protect me in a way. Perhaps the only way he knew.
******
I wish I knew of his struggle at the time, I really do. I was twelve years old when everything took a turn for the worse. One day, after coming back from school, everyone was gone. Both my father and his girlfriend. The apartment had stayed mostly the same, aside from a few things that were missing. On the table, there were 25 000 yen and a phone number scribbled over a piece of paper. The phone number led to child services.
At first, I thought I could live on my own. That was short-lived, however. My meager funds were diminishing quickly and as a 12 years old boy, money income wasn't really a thing. I tried shoplifting for a while, got pretty beaten up as a result. Eventually, I surrendered myself to the police. I was hungry and angry and sad, I remember that clearly. For some reason, I thought I was the reason why they left, that I had done something wrong. They tried getting me into a foster family, but it didn't work out too well. Something about being too old to be interesting for adopting families. Whatever, I ended up in a juvenile center.
I attended school as normal, still conflicted about what I was going through. Funnily enough, I was also experiencing life in another setting. The atmosphere was much less heavy than it was back in Sanya, with people appearing happier in general. Heroes were much more common, too. That's when I got the idea to become a hero myself. So I could help the people struggling on the daily, to give them the push required to better themselves.
******
So I entered U.A., although by the skin of my teeth. I always knew I had a quirk, but I had trouble grasping its full effects. With some help from the counselor and a bit of street knowledge, I managed to get in as well. I wasn't the strongest, in fact I was probably one of the weakest in my class. Far from the most popular, too. I did take pride in the fact that I was one of the best when it came to rescue missions and that I was a pain in the ass to fight against. It's impressive how being a stubborn asshole with the ability to outlast everyone can come a long way.
Years passed and I honed my strengths as best as I could. Late into my third year, I kept being reminisced about the neighborhood I grew up in. Eventually, curiosity took the best of me and I paid a visit to that place, only to realize it was still as bad as it once was. What's more, it even seemed worse than before, given how I had been living in the comfort of the U.A. dorms as well as Musutafu in general. I tried to get in touch with my childhood friends. Some were missing, others simply trying to survive in this shithole.
While walking in the streets, I saw that old foul-mouthed granny that lived a few doors away from our apartment complex. She told me about how I grew up, how I was the lucky one, being able to get out of here to live a proper life. The discussion came the subject of my father and how I still had that bittersweet feeling about him. Part of me was angry at the idea of being abandoned, the other was thankful for the opportunity it gave me. She told me that, if anything, his action was nothing short of heroic. He had no money, no education and no way out of this life. By doing that, by being the villain in this situation, he wanted to see me out of this place. He couldn't afford to pay for a better apartment or a better school. After that, I remembered his expression. He clearly loved me, but those eyes, they saw the truth of our situation. How I would inevitably walk in his footsteps, how I would perpetuate this shameful cycle. Beyond anything else, he wanted to know that I would break free from this life and become someone worthy of respect. His actions had not been selfish, but selfless. And that's how I came to realize what being a true hero was. It's giving all you can, even what you can't afford to make sure you can save that one person.
I knew I had found my vocation at that time, but after that, I started feeling bitter about what was happening around me. My classmates all had that self-sufficient look, practicing their speeches and thinking about their public image more so than their deeds. While interning at a pro-hero office, I overheard some talks about how not everyone could be saved and how we, as heroes, should not be focusing our efforts towards the "lost causes". As an example, he cited the Sanya district and how the people were content with their poverty.
After that, I was simply disgusted. I couldn't get out of my head the idea that being a hero was just a business. Managing their popularity and their image, their heroic deeds serving as a way to gain the population's favor. Heroes only sought to help the good citizens, even if they weren't the ones who needed saving the most. That's why, a few months before graduation, I dropped out of school. I never set foot near the school again. Instead, I went back to the Sanya district to make a real difference there. I kept working to become stronger and compensate for my flaws and took upon the role of a vigilante to become what the young students aspired the become and what the pros miserably failed at. I became a real hero.
