Application
Name: Oshitari Kenya
Age: 21
Part: Drummer, but he has been known to toy with pilfered guitars in the privacy of his own room. He also works part time to supplement his income when money is tight, usually as a mascot for toy stores around the area during special events and holidays.
Appearance:
Standing at 5’7, Kenya may appear at first glance to be slight of form, but don’t let this fool you. He is a livewire, despite his slender stature and lack of towering height. His appearance changes on the young man’s whim, depending on the gig he’s playing, the bet he’s trying to win, or the person he’s set on shocking speechless. Thanks to his father harping at him for his wild ways and unkempt appearance, he doesn’t often hesitate to listen to the little voice in his head, a voice directly responsible for many additions to his personage over the years. These additions began appearing in his early teens and continue to do so to this day, amongst them being: a single row of hoops that lines his earlobe, tribal tattoos that lace his upper arms and shoulders, and the golden locks he shamelessly flaunts both on stage and off it.
Personality: Kenya is cocky and mouthy even in the best of times, which is a trait that constantly leads him headlong into trouble. He’s been known to punch first and asks questions later, a habit that his mother has bemoaned more than once since the first time he raced home after school sporting a black-eye and busted lip. He, also, has a penchant for teasing those around him to which his best friend, Shiraishi Kuranosuke, can personally attest, much to Shiraishi’s dismay. After all, it was this tendency to tease others--especially those he finds intriguing or annoying-that first brought the two together.
But while it may be true that more often than not Kenya goes off at the mouth saying anything that comes to mind when he’s determined to push someone’s buttons, upon the rare occasion he shows a sensitive side of himself, putting forth an effort to make those around him be at ease during awkward situations. That is, unless he feels awkward. It is during these moments that Kenya displays a bashful, shy side of himself that is rarely seen by anyone, even those he holds in highest regard as his pride usually pushes the rowdy young man to hide what he thinks of as his dorkiest traits beneath the rough and tumble exterior he cultivates with every new piercing or tattoo he acquires.
Although, Kenya is impudent and possesses a quick fire, volatile temper easily prodded into exploding with the right turn of phrase or event, he is also outgoing and friendly. Often, this leads him into deliberately manipulating his comrades into friendly competitions, because he loves nothing more than pitting himself against another, no matter the venue. On the stage or a court somewhere, it doesn’t matter as long as he has fun while he’s doing it. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that by doing so he opens up a window of opportunity that allows him to rub his opponents’ noses in their losses when he walks away the winner.
History:
If asked exactly why a drummer out of all the possible career paths he could have chosen, Kenya would probably answer “Because I could!”. It’s his favorite reply to questions that throw him into the position of explaining the choices he makes and the paths he treads, whether they lead him toward studiously hitting the books or jetting all over town with his friends, haphazardly throwing himself into first one harrowing escapade and then another. However; deep within the rowdy blond is an ever burning love for music that he can’t hide, even if he refuses to sappily wax poetic about it. One of his fondest memories and, perhaps, the one to make the greatest impact on a seven year old Kenya was of a music video he just happened to catch the tail end of one day when his mother left the television playing while she was folding laundry.
Captivated by the sounds that flowed from the television, he stood rooted to the spot while the musicians played; working in unison to produce a haunting melody that thoroughly fascinated and engrossed the young, impressionable boy. His love affair with music and, more specifically, the drums began that day. He clearly remembers the drummer who, while he might have been situated at the very back of the set behind the other members of the band, looked like he was having the most fun out of all of them.
Dark eyes never strayed from the shadowed man almost obfuscated by the shadows given off by the stage lights and the affects that gave the show such an eerie feeling. He was completely fascinated by the speed with which expert hands wielded the slender drumsticks the drummer held and the resounding noise each new strike produced. So much so that he raced into his mother’s kitchen as soon as the song came to an end. Raiding the drawers where he knew she stored cooking utensils, he fished around for anything that could be used in place of a proper set of drumsticks. On this memorable day it turned out to be a matching set of wooden spoons, but over the years the list has grown to encompass any slender semi-long object that can be struck against a surface repeatedly with increasing speed and varying rhythm.
His new fascination with drums turned out to be the bane of his parents’ existence, though it must be pointed out that applies more to his father than his mother. His mother isn’t particularly fond of his chosen lifestyle, but while she may drop the occasional comment or two in an effort to rein him in, it is his father that determinedly presses Kenya to forget “this distasteful, silly nonsense” and turn his focus to “a serious career”. Namely, being a doctor. Yes, the elder Oshitari wants nothing more than for his son to follow in his footsteps and uphold the proud traditions of his family. Unfortunately, the more his father pressures him the more he refuses to bow beneath the constant lectures and stern, disapproving looks. Instead, he contrarily refuses to listen to a word said and merrily goes about his way. Whether this continued refusal to heed his father’s words is caused by an outright rebellious attitude for no reason other than he’s a prideful young man who thinks he has to have everything his way or simply because he can’t live a life without music and all it entails is something only Kenya knows.
No, perhaps, that is a lie within itself. If anyone knows it is probably the honey-eyed brunette he met in his early childhood. Theirs is a friendship that began on a sour note, but miraculously grew to become much more over the years. Had anyone told Kenya back then that the uptight snotty brat he met at choir practice would one day become his best friend he would have told the deliverer of such news that they were fucking crazy! As it is, he often wonders how he went from outright hating Shiraishi to being his best friend, but there you have it. He did and it isn’t often that he regrets this change of heart. That is, when Shiraishi isn’t one upping him. There’s nothing Kenya hates more than losing or falling behind. This is a fact that was never more apparent than when someone possessing an obscene obsession with perfection and a far too pretty face figuratively wiped the floor with him during the many outlandish competition Kenya masterminded with unholy glee.
While Kenya can’t say for certain when his hatred turned to tolerance and then liking, he can pinpoint the exact moment he felt the world fall from beneath his feet for the first time-when Shiraishi revealed his plans to run off to Tokyo in the hopes of putting together a band of his own and making it big. Coming on the heels of Kenya thoroughly corrupting his friend, this announcement hit the hell-raising blond hard, though he steadfastly refused to show it. It had been he that dragged Shiraishi away from the staid and boring world of classical music and immersed the far-too-perfect-to-be-real Goody-two-shoes Choir Boy in the chaotic realm of rock and roll music. And it had been he that encouraged the other young boy to love rock music as much as he did, so what could he say when Shiraishi told him that he was moving to Tokyo to chase their shared dream but to wish him well with all the manly back thumping and “Go get em, tiger!” such revelations inspire amongst young men?
Not one to be left behind in anything least of all his own goal in life, Kenya began to plot his relocation to the bustling city where many either made their dreams come true, or watched them crushed beneath the heavy hand of fate. Fortunately, he was saved the hassle of showing up unannounced on Shiraishi’s doorstep six months after his friend’s departure by a telephone call. As it turned out, his buddy couldn’t find a drummer that even came close to being as good as him. “Damned right, you can’t!” Kenya told his friend with a laugh, his heart leaping with excitement. No longer did he have to worry about the small shit. All he had to do was pack his bags, collect what savings he had managed to squirrel away over time, and meet up with Shiraishi in Tokyo.
Fucking A! He was set and he never looked back when he left Osaka behind, after all, life was pretty goddamn boring without Shiraishi around. Plus, he’d never again have to listen to his father drone on and on about what he should be doing or sit through being threatened with disownment, if he didn’t tow the line.
That isn’t to say that everything was perfect, after he arrived in Tokyo. It was far from it. Upon stepping foot in the city Kenya was faced with the very real need to find a place to live and a job, both important requirements he couldn’t go without. So it was that he began putting in applications everywhere he could think of, but only after celebrating his arrival with Shiraishi. An event he’s sure his friend now rues, but one Kenya never fails to get a good laugh out of when he remembers it.
Now that he’s firmly settled into his new life, he works both at the gigs their band is booked for and at one of the most prestigious toy stores in the city. The latter of which meshes perfectly with his schedule for performing as it allows him to work a steady job during daylight hours and play until the wee hours of the morning. And play in this case doesn’t just apply to his position as the drummer of the band known as Nightshade but to his tendency to get up to all sorts of shenanigans with the girls that he meets. It isn’t often that Kenya lets himself be roped into a serious relationship, but upon the rare occasion he meets a girl he thinks he can make it work with, until she grows fed up with his denseness and “I just don’t get it!” attitude when it comes to the complaints they bombard his ears with. Currently, he’s dating a young woman he met at a live, who’s just as fast as he likes his bikes to be and he’s loving the fact that it annoys the hell out of Shiraishi every moment of the attention she gives him.
Sample Tag:
The first thing Oshitari Kenya could think to say upon being yanked out of a very pleasant dream involving a sleek, cherry-red Ninja motorcycle and a hot, big breasted babe by a screeching banshee was, “What?!” That’s too say, after he scrambled to his knees, his heart pounding and head swirling, confusion lingering after a night of too much drink and way too much fun coupled with the startling transition from sleeping soundly to being wide awake in seconds. One world collided with another, leaving the rowdy blond fighting to right his senses and figure out what the fuck that god awful noise was.
Unfortunately, that struggle was hilariously ungraceful, fraught with slipping on his futon when he scrambled upward, which as one can imagine led to him tumbling face first onto the floor beside the bedding that Shiraishi had helped him lay out the night before when still-warm-from-his-body blankets became entangled in his legs. It left Kenya in a particularly undignified position of having his boxer covered ass stuck up into the air, his arms falling to the floor beside him with a resounding thud nearly as loud as the one his forehead made when it banged into the hard wood. And still his heart pounded wildly, his head swimming with the surge of uncertainty and fear that came with be abruptly ripped out of such a sweet dream by a loud noise that had no place in his mind’s nighttime fantasies.
It took him a moment to process the sound, the words that were so carelessly belted out, and the owner of the voice that had interrupted one of the best dreams ever, but eventually his heart began to calm one beat at a time, the thundering in his ears easing off, and his mind began to function. Which was a good thing, but it still left him with the task of gracelessly scrambling to his knees and sending a fuming, sleepy-eyed glare toward his best friend. “Goddamn it, Kura! What the fuck?!”