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Character Information

Name: Sho Minamimoto
Age: 18
Fandom: The World Ends With You
Appearance: He used to have less clothes and more tatoos, then he could look like a less pixelated version of this, but as a regular teenage human, he looks like a regular teenage human; lots of black. His jeans are worn and ripped, just like his hat, which he wears over a red bandana. His coat is, surprisingly, in one peice. It has short sleeves and is usually buttoned up. His boots come up past his ankles, and coming up his arm appear to be black flames, which are just regular tattoos now. Everything is black or gray except his bandana, and a silver neckless he wears. His eyes are yellow, and there are stratches on his face which almost look something like whiskers. His hair is about shoulder length, messy, unkept, and oddly, gray.

History: Here.
Canon Point: Post-TWEWY
Personality: What does Sho care about? Himself, and that's it. Sure, if you treat him with respect then maybe he won't insult you every chance he gets, which is almost like liking you, but all he really likes is the fact you like him. However, because he is an obnoxious, arrogant, maniac that would trade your life in a second if it meant getting him ahead even an inch -- even if he almost likes you -- there aren't particularly a lot of people lining up to be his BFF. His coworkers only tolerated him because he was damn good at what he does. But that's okay, he likes himself for those reasons, too.

He'll refer to most people as some variation of "binomial", "hectopascle", or "tetrahedra", which is supposed to be insulting. If somebody is still technically above him by rank, though, he might even refer to them by name, or a nickname. But again, that isn't a sign that he likes or respects them, he's just acknowledging them. As a target, most likely.

Though he probably doesn't even think about it anymore, he did used to be human. Then he died, and then he became a Player. As Player, you have to work with a Partner, or face erasure. So he had to work with somebody, but after he won, he likely just ignored the fact he ever needed somebody else's help in the first place. Then he became a Reaper, and then got superpowers. After that, everything he did relied on his brains and those powers. He didn’t see any limit to the power he could have. He also didn’t see how anybody could help him -- or stop him. So "cooperation is garbage!" As a rule, everybody below him is expendable, and everybody above him needs to be taken down a notch. Sure, if somebody is willing to help him out he'll deal, but... that doesn't mean he'll like them...

But... cooperation is really is the only thing he sucks at. In fact, he excels at everything he puts his mind to. Unfortunately, he never puts his mind to something constructive. He's just a little eccentric. In fact, one of his favorite hobbies is gathering random objects and putting it all into one giant pile, which he leaves in the middle of the streets. While most people like to call them giant junk heaps -- because that's what they are -- he likes to call them beautiful and carefully calculated sculptures. He will do things that seem to be incredibly out of his way, so he can prove a point. Sometimes the points don’t exist anywhere except his own mind (thus the junk heaps), and he isn’t exactly subtle, either (also the junk heaps.) But, usually the point he wants to make is that “he's awesome and also better than you”, and just to make that point a little more clear he'd tell you by shouting through his megaphone he carries everywhere, even if he’s right next to you. Usually, he's on some high point though, shouting down. Like say, sitting on those junk heaps.

When he played Game Master, he was supposed to maintain rules, give out assignments to his fellow Reapers, and assign missions for the Players. However, Sho didn’t give a shit about rules. He cheated at his own game to try and make it so nobody but him could win. When that plan went to hell, and they almost beat him anyways, he blew himself up to take them out with him. But, of course, he had a mastermind idea to come back -- but his plan consisted of turning himself into what was basically a human-shaped mass of illegal black magic. He did this for that extra boost of power he would get, but also because he’s absolutely insane and would give up anything, even his last bits of humanity, just so he could win.

He didn’t win, but he tried!

He's also completely obsessed with math. He ceaselessly talks in math terms and makes math jokes and "the world is numbers". He refers to his plans as the solution. The means to get there are the equation. and Everything in his plan all are variables. But he doesn't do everything he does for the sake of math, he just uses math in everything he does. It's just the way his brain is wired -- and it's also wired without the part people normally get to feel empathy for others. Not him. To him, everything is about him, and screw the rest of you all. You can all be subtracted, for all he cares.

He’ll do whatever it takes to win. He will lie, cheat, steal, run away, hit you while you're down -- but he will never stab you in the back, because he was never on your side in the first place.


Game Specific

Suitability: He's a crazy genius that needs that has a compulsion to be on top of everything, and he'll do whatever it takes to get there. "He's good to keep around because he knows how to heat things up." He’s always been playing a game for survival. And he’s always been trying to win, and then take over those games. That's what he's going to try to do to the UAA, that's what he did in his life after death, and that's probably what he did to get dead in the first place.

Except this time he doesn’t get any powers at all. He’s so not used to that. He’s going to be annoyed, but he really won't act different or treat anybody better. The main difference is that he can piss people off just as much as he used to, but now he won't have much power to stop them from doing anything about it. He's going to be a weak scrawny nerd who can't even fire a gun straight.

Weapon: As a human, the only thing on his side on a fight, anymore, would be his insanity. When he died in the first place, he probably wasn’t nearly as crazy as he is now. Also, let's give him a stainless steel baseball bat, with weird black designs, similar to his tattoo.



Samples

Log/Third Person Sample:

“That will do!” Followed by a crash.

“This will do!” Another crash.

In fact, they'll all do. Nothing won't do. It’s almost morning and he’s been taking signs, pieces of the buildings around him, parts of cars all night. He collects all of the objects he can and carries them to the roof of the building, and from there throws them -- carefully -- into a pile. The pieces that refuse to fit together and tumble down get smashed with his baseball bat until they stay put. Well, at least the street is a lot cleaner.

"Heh... who says two things can't exist on the same point? It's just how you do it.", and he smashes the last piece.

It's about two stories tall, which is probably tall enough. That, and he’s tired and sore. It’s worth it to him, though. He takes a couple of steps back to smile at his work, because he is quite honestly proud of himself. It's beautiful. It lacks any artistic arrangement at all, and yet he put it together precisely the way he wanted it. He loves it.

The baseball bat helped put it together, but it’s not as good as smashing things together with your mind.. On top of that, he really doesn't have the same strength or endurance as he did as a Reaper. What used to take him half an hour, tops, just took him seventeen hours. But he doesn’t notice, he loses track of time either way.

He climbs to the top of his tower of junk -- which is already on top the tallest, flat-roofed, building in the area -- and sits at the top, on his throne.

He admires the view of his new home: Santa Destroy. The sun’s just starting to rise, and his work, which is mostly metal, glistens in the light. He smirks, smiles, and soon starts laughing and laughing.

"Before they realize what's happened, I'll be one running this operation.”

He looks at the letter from the UAA, which he got from his pocket, crunches it up in his hand, and tosses it in the pile.

"And I'll add them to the heap."

He puts his feet up, and his hands behind his head. Considering what it’s made out of, the pile is surprisingly comfortable, or maybe it’s the fact his body is tired, he only thinks it’s comfortable. He starts to drift off.

“It’s just a function of time." And he’s asleep.



Journal Entry/First Person Sample:

[ It’s hard to tell where he is because, due to the angle, there is only sky behind him. His hair is blowing and his hat is trying to get away. Obviously windy, it’s because he’s on the tallest building in the area. He looks down at the camera, which is resting somewhere near his feet, and he’s wearing the smirkest of smirks. ]

You picked a pretty lame spot, tasteless hectopascals. But funny, I didn’t even know there were other games. And even more funny, I’m a Player now, huh? Orders of operation seem to have changed this time round, too.

[ He gets closer to the camera. ]

Now, here’s a little quiz. How quickly can I win?

[ He looks incredibly excited for a second, but when he realizes he doesn't have a megaphone to yell out of yet, his face drops into one that’s annoyed. He grinds his teeth as he leans back. ] Note to self: obtain noise maker. [ He comes back and grabs the device, bringing it closer to his face.]

299,792,458 miles a second, you brainless binomials!

[ And with that, he cuts the feed. ]