Jericho Faust

First Name: Jericho
Middle Name/Initial: N/A
Last Name: Faust
Epithet: N/A
Alignment: Lawful Good
Age: 27
Sex: Male
]b]Race:[/b] Longleg
Height: 13'7
Weight: 210
Allegiance: Marines
Affiliations: N/A
Occupation: Seaman Recruit
Bounty: N/A
Appearance:

Spoiler:

The image is my own work, and copyrighted.

Jericho is a Longleg that stands at 13’4”. He has piercing black and white eyes with no color, and has dark circles embedded underneath from a lack of sleep. He has long, pink hair. His lips are stitched together from the devil fruit he ate as a kid. He always wears formal attire, donning a white vest and white tie over a black shirt and black dress pants. He wears his Captain’s jacket draped over his shoulders.
Personality: Jericho was once an active and overly energetic child, but the effects of the devil fruit sent him into a state of depression. Since Ryze’s later involvement in his life, Jericho has moved out of depression and back into the light of reality. However, he has continued to retain his monotone attitude. As a result, he appears to have little concern for anything, while at heart he truly does. He’s a compassionate man who wants only to rid the world of evil, all the while making his parents proud. He's often quite calm and level-headed, be it on the battlefield or elsewhere. Despite his lackadaisical appearance, however, he's often one to enjoy some immature behavior.
Character Goals: To become an Admiral in his parent’s honor.
History: The cold grip around the nape of my neck has been burned into my mind; it’s all that I can remember about that day. The man who took me from all that I ever knew had complete disregard for my own well-being. I thrashed and snarled, scratched and clawed, but he only tightened his grip. The confusion, more than anything else, is what terrified me most.
A few other men came to either gawk or taunt; I wasn’t completely sure, as I couldn’t understand their words at the time. One of the men dragged a crate over and popped the lid. The eerie creaking of the nails relinquishing their hold on the wooden surface only tormented me further, as if to warn me to stay away.
The man loosened his grip on my neck and threw me into the dark abyss that was the open crate. I pleaded with the men to let me go, but the lid slammed shut. The reverberating sounds of new nails being harshly driven back into the crate resounded in the dark corners of what was now my own personal prison. Soon, however, there would be nothing but silence; nothing but my own heartbeat to keep me company. Even there, in the midst of the thickest fear, the silence coaxed me into a deep sleep.
Sounds of hoarse laughter woke me from my dreams of home. I wanted nothing more than o return, but I feared I may never have the chance. Erratic shaking of the crate threw me from my memories, and dragged me back into the harsh reality. The crate was being moved.
A loud crash and violent whiplash caused by the crate alerted me that we had stopped. A crowbar was quickly wedged in between the joined pieces of wood, as a man outside began to pry it open. A beam of light shone through the crack, blinding me with its abrupt entrance. The lid was torn off and a hand grabbed my neck yet again. This time, I was far too weary to fight back. Begging for my life proved useless already.
From there I was gently placed onto a floor. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see I was in a small enclosure in a house. “He’s perfect!” I heard someone say. I turned to see a small boy hugging the man who had taken me. “Thanks, Dad.” I would later learn that the boy’s name was Jericho, and this is his story.
I assume you may be confused, so allow me to explain. My name is Ryze, and I’m a mongoose. You see, Jericho’s family was a well-integrated part of the World Government. They weren’t anything too major, only captains, or so, but they were marines nonetheless.
Jericho’s father would bring his son back a gift whenever he left for the sea, and on that horrific day, I was that gift. It sounds like a horrible situation, but Jericho made it quite the opposite. Even for a child, he would treat me well; he took care of me. It was an odd relationship, of course, -- a boy and his mongoose – but it worked for us one I became accustomed to the human life.
The parents would often take turns watching Jericho and heading off on terms at sea. Oh, did that boy look up to his parents. He wanted nothing more than to grow up in the World Government and become a marine. The funny thing is, he did just that. But before I get into that, I should probably explain why I’m able to speak in the first place, or did you not notice?
Jericho spent his youth playing “Marines and Pirates” with his friends, and his teenage years working out and training. Everything he did was fueled by his bringing desire to join the Marine Corps. One event, however, changed him.
A traveling merchant could be heard in the marketplace. He was doing his best to shout over the roar of the crowd in an attempt to get his products out there. “Devil Fruit.” There it was. Those two simple words caught Jericho’s attention like nothing else. Jericho ran over to the merchant and demanded to see the fruit. I was perched on Jericho’s shoulder as I peered over at the fruit in the vendor’s hands. It didn’t look like anything I had ever seen before.
After exchanging some words unknown to me, Jericho reached into his pocket, pulled out his life’s savings, and slammed it down on the stand. He grabbed the fruit and ran home as quickly as he could. I attempted to do my best to argue with him for what he did, but an incoherent mongoose could hardly win any debate.
Jericho threw open the door to his room and he sat in the corner. He stared into the fruit and slowly turned to me. “This is it, Ryze. This fruit will give me the power to become an even stronger marine than even Mom or Dad.”
Jericho plunged the fruit into his mouth and began to gnaw at it. Moments later the fruit took hold. The following few minutes would prove to be the boy’s most tormenting memory.
A sort of pain must have fallen over Jericho, as he began crying out in agony. He kept grasping at his mouth. The loud screams of this child began to swiftly fade to silence. Tears rolled down his face as he attempted to scream, but to no avail. Stitching sprang from his lips and tied his mouth shut. For hours the two of us sat in silence. Jericho could neither speak, nor open his mouth. His mother came home shortly after and realized what he had done.
A couple years went by, and Jericho was now 15. The lack of ability to speak had sent him into depression over the years. The newfound powers granted to him were only a curse now, and he refused to use them.
When all seemed lost, Jericho’s father returned home from another term. This time he held a devil fruit in his hands. “I’ve spent the past two years researching anything I could, until I found this. It’s for Ryze. If you give it to him, he could become your voice.” The father said.
Jericho didn’t seem to understand, and I sure didn’t, but the father offered me the fruit anyways. After seeing what Jericho went through, I was reluctant. I looked at Jericho and he nodded at me. With trust  in my new family, I took a bite.
Shortly thereafter, I gained the ability to speak. The fruit had heightened my IQ, ad it gave me the power to sense emotion. These powers, coupled with Jericho’s strength, sent us on a journey we never expected to be a part of.
Fast forward 12 years. Jericho and I are considered to be as one. We trained in seclusion, and recently joined the Marines. Jericho still has a lot of room for improvement, but he’s already shaping up to be more of a man than either of his parents could have expected him to be. It won't be long now before he's competing with the best the Corps has to offer.
As for his parents, they’re both happily retired. It’s now Jericho’s turn to fill his parents with his own memories at sea.




Rank: E
Statistics:
Strength – 6
Agility – 5
Intelligence – 5
Constitution – 8
Fortitude – 6



Fighting Style: Hand-to-hand
Weapon Proficiency:
Unarmed - 5
Weapons: Ryze the Mongoose
Devil Fruit: Asha Asha no Mi
Combat Techniques:
(Rank E) Asha Asha Wall - Creates an invisible wall, as long as the user continues to mime it.
(Rank E) Asha Asha Sword - Creates a basic sword, as long as the user continues to mime it.
(Rank E) Asha Asha Rope - Creates basic rope, as long as the user continues to mime it.

Union Techniques: N/A
Special Techniques: N/A

Approved and a fine first character for the site.