OOC: CnC app
CHARACTER NAME: Sanji ("Blackleg Sanji")
FANDOM: One Piece (manga)
CHRONOLOGY: Chapter 513, upon being "vanished" by Bartholomew Kuma in battle
CLASS: Hero/Civilian
SUPERHERO NAME: Mr. Prince
ALTER EGO: Sanji
BACKGROUND:
The world of One Piece is primarily sea-faring, since the world is mostly ocean but for a single strip of continental dry land that runs along a single meridian line of the globe, and then multitudes of islands. Like many travelers and nomads, Sanji is a pirate, having grown up among pirates and currently serving as ship's cook for the Strawhat Pirates under captain Monkey D. Luffy. Many of the most powerful fighters (both pirate and Marine) owe their abilities to Devil Fruit, which bestow some kind of peculiar power on the person who eats it, but Sanji's abilities are physical. He learned them from his mentor in both piracy and cooking, Red Leg Zeff.
When he was ten years old, Sanji was a kitchen assistant on a cruise ship that was attacked by Zeff's crew. He was a brave kid with a head full of dreams, he yearned to sail to the All-Blue sea he had read about in story books. Sanji attacked Zeff himself to no avail, but then both were cast overboard in a storm and shipwrecked on a mere pile of rocks. In order to keep watch for a rescue ship, Zeff left Sanji facing one side with his share of food while he went to face the other side, warning him to learn to ration himself. Even then, the food eventually ran out, and Sanji was close to starving. After two months he finally decided to sneak over to Zeff's side and steal his rations, only to discover that Zeff had actually given the child all of the food and starved himself, eventually resorting to hacking off and eating his own right leg. After they were rescued, Sanji stayed with Zeff, who retired to run a floating restaurant on the sea, with ruffians as his employees. At the Baratie restaurant, Sanji honed his cooking and took to heart Zeff's philosophies about feeding the hungry and protecting his crew. He also learned Zeff's kick-only style of martial arts, the Red Leg style, and made it into his own, living by the credo that a chef fights with his feet in order to preserve his hands for the art of cooking. Sanji served as the number-two chef at Baratie for nine years, until Luffy and crew dropped by and ended up recruiting him. Leaving the restaurant meant he could follow his dream of finding All Blue, a sea rumored to be somewhere on the Grand Line.
As a Strawhat, Sanji not only keeps the crew fed (a monstrous task considering how much Luffy eats), but also serves as one of the fighters, third in line behind Luffy and Zoro, the first mate. He has proven himself against notorious pirates such as Don Krieg and Arlong's Fishmen, as well as the members of the criminal organization Baroque Works and the government-sponsored secret forces of CP9. Despite being pirates, the crew tends not to do any actual raiding, pillaging, or killing, but they have earned their reputations fighting against powerful, notorious foes and getting involved in things like the civil war of Alabasta and the epic war against "God" in Skypeia. Since the big names go to the main character, Sanji ends up fighting other members of these organizations or crews who are quite powerful and notorious in their own right - such as No. 2 Bon Clay, God-Enel's priest Satori, CP7's Wanze, CP9's Jyabura (a wolf-man), and the zombie Absalom. Of course, he has also knocked down scads of "small fries" - marines, pirate underlings, Baroque Works' millions, and zombies. Each adventure and each epic battle hardened his abilities and turned him into one of the more powerful members of the crew, and earned him the nickname "Blackleg Sanji" and a bounty of 77 million beli (that world's currency). He's been injured in just about every fight, the worst against the god Enel on Skypeia, but always managed to get back up on his feet. Sometimes he has had to take a strategic role instead of charging into the fight, such as sneaking into Crocodile's casino in order to rescue the rest of the crew from certain death, sabotaging Enel's sky-ship and letting himself get lightning-zapped for it, infiltrating the water-train alone in order to take on an entire force of marines and special forces fighters that were escorting Robin to prison, and sneaking into the control room to close the Gates of Justice while the others fought Marines at Enies Lobby. He even offered to sacrifice himself so that Luffy would not be captured while he couldn't fight back, on Thriller Bark, but Zoro determined he wasn't strong enough no matter what his courage and knocked him out of that fight. The crew had been staying on the Sabaody archipelago to prepare to dive to Mermaid Island, but the government forces intercepted them there. One of the seven gods of pirates, Kuma, used his devil fruit power to banish the crew one by one - Sanji was knocked flying for three days and three nights to some unknown destination somewhere on the ocean. He'll be ported right from that point, beaten up from the fight and thinking the rest of his crewmates had vanished - before he lands where he’s supposed to. Which, in canon, is an island of transvestites.
http://onepiece.wikia.com/wiki/Sanji
PERSONALITY:
Sanji is a man of many moods. While at times he can be serious and grim, he can also be suave and debonair to charm a woman, or he can fly off the handle in rage, or he can be found dancing comically in glee from a woman's smile in his direction. "Epic mood swings" should cover it. He is more mature than most of the crew, even though they're all roughly the same age, but he will still turn and instantly snap at an idiot move from Luffy or suddenly start twirling happily and sing-songing at the girls. He argues with Zoro, but still trusts and stands by the swordsman and agrees with him on crucial, serious matters. They often work as a team despite their bickering, and he understands Zoro's sense of honor even if he dislikes his recklessness. He is fiercely loyal to all his crewmates, even if he won't admit it to the guys directly. Sanji is a ladies' man, a charmer, and highly chivalrous. He refuses to ever hurt a woman, and even when forced to fight one, only defends himself and ends up losing rather than doing harm to her. He gets dangerously angry at anyone who dares to hurt a woman, physically or emotionally (such as making one cry), and constantly offers to protect the women on his crew even though they can take care of themselves. Of course, he's also a pervert, having once harbored a dream of finding the devil fruit that made a man invisible so he could peep in girls' bathrooms. Yet, he hasn't been able to win over the women on his crew - only nameless girls in ports from East Blue to the Grand Line.
He has a number of philosophies on cooking and food, as part of his life-long training for the craft. He never uses his hands to fight because they're needed for his art (with the exception of doing handstands or grabbing onto things to power his kicks). He won't even use kitchen knives to fight hand-to-hand, making only one exception: he personally took down the chef Wanze because he dared to use food as a weapon - fighting food-prep with food-prep. Knives are sacred tools to chefs, is his reasoning, but a chef who desecrates food deserves to have his ass kicked the same way. He hates to see food wasted or stolen, and puts great effort into the aesthetic presentation of food in addition to the cooking - such as creating beautiful bento boxes. He gets livid over anyone who desecrates food or the art of cooking. His attacks are all named after food preparation methods, in French, perhaps to give him that extra touch of elegance. Most importantly, he believes in feeding any hungry person no matter how evil they are or whether they can pay for it, simply because he has the ability - it's his duty as a cook. He respects his mentor even though his outward demeanor is coarse and full of bluster. Sanji's general demeanor and speech pattern changes depending on who he's talking to - he swears a lot, and can be loud or snide or smug, but to women he gentles his tone and speaks with the verbal equivalent of heart icons (and even recites poetry). To everyone else he snaps and swears and bestows unflattering nicknames, such as calling Zoro essentially "seaweed-head" or referring to Chopper as an emergency food supply. He will quip in battle when he's feeling confident.
Sanji was an avid reader as a child, familiarizing himself with a number of adventure stories and legends that turned out to have their basis in truth. Because of this, he clings to the dream of finding the sea called All Blue, a place where all the fish and sea life from all four seas (North, South, East, and West) gather together, meaning an endless supply of any seafood for any chef's dream. His volatile emotions can be something of a weakness, as is his love of women and refusal to harm them in a fight. He is intelligent and clever and often thinks three steps ahead of the rest of the crew, so he can be in the right place at the right time to pull off that one part of the strategy no one else considered in the middle of their fights (such as sabotage or closing a gate that changes the current of the ocean so they can escape). He is willing to push himself to get stronger, and lets his emotions fuel his fighting ability, but he also knows when to leave the fighting to others and go carry out some other important task instead. Sanji is nearly fearless and brave to the point of self-sacrifice, but he is afraid of being too weak to help his crewmates and friends. Any foe who taunts him for it will get under his skin. In fact, at the very moment from which he’ll be taken in chapter 513, he is lamenting his failure to protect any of his crew from being vanished by Kuma, having watched Zoro, Brook, and Usopp disappear before his eyes. He isn’t strong enough to take on the kinds of enemies Luffy does, and so far has been lucky to fight against foes who share some karate or kenpo skill for which Sanji's Blackleg method is a perfect counter. His chivalry can also be a weakness, as it blinds him to certain women's faults and makes him unwilling to battle them seriously.
By this point in his story, Sanji is almost twenty, with blond hair that always hides his left eye for some unspecified reason and a bit of scruff on his chin. He stands about 5'9", and is thin with gangly limbs that disguise his true strength. He prefers to wear finely tailored double-breasted suits, with or without a tie, although sometimes he may be seen in a brightly-colored button-down shirt or a random hoodie. Most of the time he dresses nicely, as befitting the suave, princely air he tries to project. Yet, he is also a chain-smoker, and is rarely seen without a lit cigarette dangling from his lips or his thin fingers. Nobody knows why his right eyebrow is shaped like a spiral, it just is - nor does anybody know why his left eye is hidden.
POWER: his martial skill is extremely powerful kicks - known as the Red Leg style of fighting. He can kick people through walls (such as a 300 kilo man), shatter stone even with a bare foot, and use his leg momentum to launch ally fighters into the air. Most fighters of equal or greater stature can withstand his hits, only very weak foes go down with one hit. Ridiculous Shounen Physical Ability can become his superpower: super-strength in his legs and feet and nigh invulnerability to his own damage. This also gives him above-normal speed and agility. I will stop short of giving him the Diable Jambe ability, which is using friction to set his own foot on fire before he kicks with it. That's just crazy.
COMMUNITY POST SAMPLE:
[voice]
Hmph. I've had to put up with a lot of insults in my time, and I know when to just let them slide. But this place just keeps throwing them at me. They can't expect a man to just keep taking it and taking it, sooner or later he's bound to snap - and I swear just one more punch in the face and I will. First it was the damn restaurants not wanting to hire a perfectly good sous chef because I didn't have some kind of papers proving myself. Apparently this thing your robot-voice gave me when I first arrived isn't proof enough, and you wouldn't believe the dirty looks I got at a couple of places for showing them. I fucking earned the right to call myself the number-two chef at Baratie's, nobody’s ever questioned the taste of anything I put in front of them. But no...apparently here in this damn city you gotta have some kind of certificate from some place I’ve never even heard of to show that you can cook. Well, fine. Screw 'em all.
And then there's the noise. It makes me miss the sounds of the ocean. Which brings me to another point - you people call that an ocean? It looks more like a greasy dishpan to me. I bet none of your oceans are even the slightest bit blue, it's a damn shame. I got down to the harbor to have a look at the local seagoing vessels, and I have to say I'm not impressed. You couldn't pay me to sail on one of those shitty cruise ships, even if they were hiring chefs at a billion beli a week. But the worst of all, let me tell you! The worst of all is that every single damn building in this damn city won't let a guy smoke inside! You can't even light a cigarette on the sidewalk, they shoo you away like you're carrying some hideous plague! I swear, when I get back home I will never badmouth a single island in the Grand Line no matter what kinds of horrible tortures await on them. Deserts and giants and shit like that is easy compared to this place.
Things'll be a lot better when I can stock up my kitchen. I always feel better when I can cook for people. You folks who helped me out when I got here, I'll thank you in a cook's own special way as soon as I can. Especially that kid with the healing, and the lovely ladies with the sweet voices who explained everything to me. I intend to treat you all to the finest feast a lowly sea-cook like me could provide.
THIRD PERSON:
Sanji stood with his hands on his hips, appraising the modest kitchenette area of his flat with a critical eye. No, this won't do at all, he complained to himself, his lips twisting into a scowl around the waning butt of the cigarette. Whoever had equipped these apartments clearly did not expect the occupants to ever want to cook anything of great magnitude - or anything greater than boiling water, really. The minimal cabinet space would barely hold a set of dishes, let alone pots and pans and strainers and spatulas and sifting bowls and.... Breathing a long sigh, Sanji clawed his blond hair back from his right temple, more a gesture of how tired he was than anything. It didn't matter how much kitchen equipment he desired when he didn't have the money for it. The lovely lady with the pinned-up hair had given him the most unflattering of quizzical looks when he tried to politely ask how much his pocket-change would convert to, as it seemed the bank had never heard of beli and clearly had to decline his request. Sanji was a gentleman and knew how to take "no" for an answer, they didn't have to be so derisive about the nature and appearance of his money. Not that the handful of paper bills in his pocket would have really gotten him far even with a decent exchange rate, but it meant he had to rely solely on the stipend he received as part of accepting the dog-tags. And that, he already understood, would not get him anywhere either. He had taken a long, rambling walk and gazed intently into shop windows, reading the prices and doing the math in his head. He could either supply his kitchen, or buy himself a nice suit to replace his blood-spattered clothing, but not both. Not a very fair choice to have to make, not at all.
Taking another breath and letting it out slowly, Sanji became aware of just how far down his cigarette was burning. He would need a fresh one. And then another pack, and those cost money, too. It was enough to make him curse out loud in the empty flat. He turned and ambled listlessly toward the window, going and leaning on it to have a look outside at the bleak cityscape. This was supposed to be an island, or near an island, and supposedly the ocean was very close, but he couldn’t see it at all. The drab buildings seemed to stretch on for miles, crowding out the sight of anything remotely natural. Sanji slouched with his shoulder up against the window frame, taking the cigarette away from his lips and letting it dangle between slender fingers. He wondered where the others were now, whether they had escaped safely, whether they had also slipped through a hole in the world and ended up here. His features tightened a bit as he thought of his crewmates; Zoro, Brook, Usopp. Right in front of him, no matter what he did or wanted to do. They were just gone, and there was no way to know where or how. And Zoro was hurt far worse than any of them. He hoped that Luffy had been able to protect Nami and Robin, at least - of course, he had to. Their captain was the only one strong enough to take care of the girls, now, with him and Zoro gone. If only there were some way of letting them know that he wasn't dead, that he'd ended up somewhere safe albeit nowhere near any route that the brave and intelligent Nami could navigate no matter how marvelous her skills...
He dug in his trouser pocket and retrieved the tiny scrap of Vivre card with "Rayleigh" written on it. It sat limp in his hand like any common piece of paper, confirming his worst dread. He was so far away from the others, from his own world, that not even the tiny paper-borne homing beacon could find the way home. He was stuck at the mercy of the City and its cyber-queen of kidnapping. Cities were ugly places, Sanji declared to himself with another scowl as he tucked the Vivre card away. Even Alubarna, the biggest and most crowded city he had seen in the world, was a shining gem compared to this dirty, cramped, noisy place. But he wasn’t going to curl up under his bed and cry, no - that was something Usopp or Chopper might do, but he was a man. He was going to beat this City at its game, by not letting it break him. Finding his way back to the rest of the crew might have become a little harder, but the words of a few of those met over the communications device filled him with just enough hope. People went home, they said. Sometimes. Sooner or later. He could use this time to heal and train, and when he next faced his crewmates, he would be strong enough to take down that shitty cyborg excuse for an ex-pirate - single-handedly. No one would disappear in front of him again. The hand clinging to the cigarette clenched into a fist, hard enough to crush the last spark out of it and send a cascade of ash down to the carpet below.