Name: Jicama Fortepiano
^{(first name pun: it's a vegetable. idk what it is but here's a link to it. a Mexican turnip, apparently; family name pun: musical lingo)}

Age: 18

Starting Planet: Earth

Race: Saiyan

Transformation Path: Super Saiyan Ikari Path

Racial Traits: Warrior's Pride, Zenkai, The Tail of a Saiyan

Items:

Fighting Style: Brawler

Faction (Optional): Earth Defense Agency

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Face Claim: Joseph Joestar from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Other Character(s): Megane

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Appearance: Towering over most at 6'5" - not counting his spiky brown hair - it's hard to miss Jicama. He has a pearly white smile and the looks to catch anybody's eye. Being a physical specimen of muscle helps, naturally. To top it all off, he's got a dark brown monkey tail that he usually keeps wrapped around his waist. His attitude somehow exceeds his unmistakable figure, as he seems to always radiate positive energy and youthful excitement everywhere he goes.

For clothing, Jicama tends to wear more formal Earthling clothing, thanks to his family being a rather wealthy bunch. Most of the time, he wears some kind of dress shirt and pants, sometimes with a tie or bowtie and blazer. Alternatively, when lounging around, Jicama wears a dark tank top, striped scarf, fingerless gloves, jeans, and boots. Sometimes he even throws on a headband with a similar design to his scarf.

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Personality: Jicama is a lover. He's a scholar. He's also got little to no common sense. Dumb as bricks with a heart of gold and book smarts. It makes for an interesting combination, especially when paired with his aggressive Saiyan genes. He studied at his family's estate with some of the best tutors in the world, so Jicama knows his stuff. He's read all the classics, written proofs for some of the most difficult arithmetic known to man, and can endlessly list city names and their approximate coordinates. Yet, he's dangerously naive and overly compassionate.

Having spent most of his life on his family's estate, Jicama does not have a lot of experience in the real world. Everything he knows was tailored and hand-crafted by his wealthy parents. To them, teaching Jicama that the world is innately good and that it appreciated kind deeds was more important than letting him be corrupted by reality in his youth. Through their raising, the Saiyan effectively traded his innate sense of pride for a more human sense of compassion and respect. He does not swear, he respects authority/elders, he talks properly, he stands up for what he believes in, and he tries to prop others up instead of tearing them down. Jicama even has a bit of an English accent, almost as a symbol of his status.

Just because he's such a good guy does not mean Jicama is against fighting. He loves the thrill of good competition and is willing to fight pretty much anybody who offers. He is a Saiyan after all, so fighting comes naturally.

The key to whatever future growth he undergoes is his sense of curiosity. Entering adulthood, Jicama wants to see everything and anything the world has to offer. He even packs a notepad and pen with him on all of his adventures to log and take notes.

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History: To say Jicama lucked out is an understatement. Stolen by space pirates as a baby, Jicama was bounced around on the black market for a while before ending up on Earth, where one of the pirates tried to sell mysterious alien babies to rich families in hopes of strategically destroying them from the inside out. The idea was for a rich family to buy one of the babies, raise it in poor conditions (filled with neglect and a lack of compassion), then have the powerful alien retaliate and wipe the rich off the map.

When Clef Fortepiano purchased the Saiyan baby, he had different ideas in mind. He knew there was something fishy about the alien baby-selling business, so he decided to take the opportunity to change the natural order of things. He took Jicama back to his estate where he and his wife, Cadence, raised the boy like one of their own. He was the youngest of five siblings, and the only one not biologically related to Clef and Cadence, but everybody treated Jicama the same way they treated each other.

What the alien-seller did not account for was a family like the Fortepianos. They had made a name for themselves among aristocrats as a philanthropic bunch who gave back to the community as much as they possibly could. Their helpers (servants, but Clef thought the term was too formal and had too much of a negative connotation) received more benefits than they would get anywhere else and exceptional pay. Not to mention, they were treated like human beings rather than, well, servants. Clef and Cadence often donated copious amounts of money to charities and local businesses. Some thought their kindness was an act to boost their image, but anybody who actually knew the Fortepianos knew how great they were.

A couple more important things to note about the Fortepianos: they are big supporters of the Earth Defense Agency and Universal Syndicate of Defense. They hope to see their world grow and prosper for generations to come, so they put a lot of money into both organizations as a sort of unofficial sponsor.

The helper assigned to Jicama, Mezzo, was once an old martial artist who Clef met during a charity event. Mezzo acted like a second father figure in Jicama's life, and actually became the person the Saiyan spent most of his time with. While there were tutors to teach Jicama book smarts and the like, Mezzo taught Jicama everything he could about being a gentleman. It may be possible to attribute Jicama's muted Saiyan pride to Mezzo's influence. With his martial arts background, Mezzo was also the perfect helper to train Jicama in the art of combat.

From a young age, Jicama loved fighting. It was in his blood, the prideful Saiyans were born to be warriors, so it only made sense that the Earth-raised one would still feel that way. Hence why Mezzo was assigned to him. Mezzo took the boy's pent-up pride and aggression and turned it into a powerful tool that he could use if diplomacy didn't work out. Mezzo, who is an expert in many different forms of combat, did his best to give Master Jicama a wide arsenal of combat knowledge. He got a full range of experience wrapped up into about 13 years of training.

Really, the only downside to Jicama's childhood was the reclusiveness of the Fortepianos. With their large net worth, the family had little need to ever leave the estate for any particular reason. Tutors were brought in to individually teach each of their children to any degree, concerts and balls (among other forms of entertainment) were held in Fortepiano Manor, and the helpers were able to take care of most other issues that arose. As such, Jicama and his siblings were hidden from the real world, which can make someone with a mind as curious as Jicama's a bit restless.

After expressing his desire to help others during his teenage years, Clef put Jicama in contact with a few members of both the EDA and USD, the former of which he started business with fairly quickly. Shortly after turning 18, he decided to join the EDA as a way to get out and see the world. That way, he can do the helping he wants while also having an excuse to get away from his family's estate. The politics of peace allude Jicama's naive mind, but that will be a lesson for later on. For now, he just wants to fight bad guys and help people in trouble. Just don't be surprised if he stops to do some sightseeing along the way.

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Techniques:

• [ST1] Flight - The ability to use one's energy to fly, whether organic or not.
• [ST1] Ki Sense - The ability to detect other energy signatures, within a small radius.
• [ST1] Ki Suppression - The ability to hide your actual Power Level by essentially "powering down".
• [ST1] Tail Training - Through years of strict discipline training, Jicama bested his tail. Grabbing/Pulling it does not leave him stunned or weakened.
• [OT1] Combo Crescendo - Jicama deploys a series of punches and kicks that gradually build in strength the longer his combo goes uninterrupted, whether that be from him disengaging or him missing a hit.
• [OT1] Giocoso - Jicama's hand sparks with yellow lightning before he unleashes a vivid beam of crackling energy.

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Roleplay Sample: "Mezzo, what did you say this was called again?" Jicama stuffed his mouth with a handful of popcorn after asking about the event unfolding in front of him. Packed into a crowded arena with thousands of people, the young Saiyan and one of his family's helpers had front row seats to a boxing match. The duo seemed out of place, both dressed in formal attire at a sporting event, but nobody seemed to care or notice amidst all the excitement.

Mezzo, the helper in question, began to answer just as one of the boxers landed a big hit on his opponent. The crowd cheered, so Mezzo had to yell to respond, "This is known as boxing, Master Jicama. I believe we had a unit on it early in your training,"

Jicama's eyes glistened in the light as he watched in awe. He'd learned a bit of boxing from Mezzo, but they did not have the gloves or headgear, nor did they have a ring to practice in. Plus, he'd never watched somebody else have a match. In a way, this was entirely new to him. He slightly turned his head to respond, but kept his eyes locked on the ring, "That was ages ago, Mezzo!" The other boxer blocked a bit hit, then responded with a powerful punch of his own. His opponent dropped to the floor but immediately started to stumble back to his feet. Following a cheer, Jicama suggested, "Perhaps we should convince Father to build one of these on the estate. Near the observatory?"

"I shall bring it up with him in our next meeting,"

The fight continued, with each boxer trading blows left and right. Jicama could not take his eyes off of the event, amazed at every punch, block, and dodge that the boxers managed to pull off. Eventually, one of the boxers let their guard down briefly, just for what seemed like a split second. That window was more than enough, as the other punched forward and stunned him with a straight. Immediately afterward, he followed up with a big haymaker, which knocked the boxer flat on the canvas. Everybody in the crowd went wild as the fight came to a close via knockout.

Smiling from ear to ear, Jicama pulled out his notepad and began taking notes about the fight he'd just watched. As he wrote, he cheered, "This was quite exciting, Mezzo,"

The helper nodded, "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Master J-"

"I'd like to have a match,"

Mezzo hesitated as he processed what Jicama said. Most people would have figured the young man just meant he wanted to try boxing at some point, but Mezzo knew better. He tried to respond, sputtering out a few syllables, "Well, I mean, that can be arranged-"

"Hold my jacket, if you would," Jicama slipped his notepad into his pocket and then handed his blazer to Mezzo, who was too stunned to react. Then he hopped over the guard rail and walked over to the commentator table. Mezzo could only imagine what the young lord had to say to the commentators, who likely were not even responsible for booking or organizing the fights. The young man conversed with the commentators for a few minutes, stopping only to withdraw a hefty amount of cash from his coin wallet and to throw a few punches at the air, perhaps for demonstration. At one point he even pointed across the way at Mezzo, who waved when he realized they were talking about him.

Before too long, Jicama hurried back over to their seats with one of the biggest grins on his face the helper had ever seen. When he reached the guard rail, Jicama did not cross over and back into the crowd. Instead, he beckoned for Mezzo to follow and said, "C'mon, Mezzo. I've got to have someone in my corner,"

Unsure what he meant, Mezzo reluctantly followed Jicama towards one of the corners of the ring. He made sure to bring their belongings with him because he had a feeling they wouldn't be returning to their seats any time soon. Jicama immediately started talking to the loser's corner, explaining what was about to go down to the pit crew. They seemed surprised at first, but after he explained further, they seemed happy to oblige with whatever plan had been laid out. Mezzo just looked on in confusion as the loser removed his headgear and gloves and handed them to Jicama, who began putting them on excitedly. His tail even wrapped itself around his waist to stay out of the way.

Finally, Mezzo had to ask, "Master Jicama, what exactly have you done?"

Jicama looked at his helper like he said something strange, "What have I done? I told you, sir, I wanted to have a match,"

"So they simply let you?"

"Essentially," He pointed over Mezzo's shoulder at a half-empty sports water bottle, "Pass that to me, if you would, sir," One of the loser's team members gladly handed over the bottle, to which Jicama smiled and nodded, "Thank you,"

Mezzo still could not grasp what was going on, "You've got to have an opponent in order to box. Who might that be?"

Right on cue, the commentators began speaking to the crowd once again, "Hold your horses, ladies and gentleman, fight night is not over!" People, who had slowly been marching up the stairs and out of the arena, turned to see what the commentators meant. They continued, "That's right, folks, we have a special Charity Event match about to unfold. Challenger Jicama Fortepiano has just made a generous donation to 'Fight Against Hunger' in exchange for one round against your World Heavyweight Champion: Ichigeki Meichu! If Jicama wins, we'll match his donation"

On the jumbotron above the screen, both fighters were put on display. Ichigeki, the man who'd just won the last fight, wiped some sweat off his forehead and gave a light wave to somebody in the crowd aimlessly. Meanwhile, Jicama smiled and waved at anybody he could, absolutely basking in the attention. He seemed like a bit of an oddball, given that he was wearing a dress shirt and slacks rather than no shirt and gym shorts, but his happy attitude radiated throughout the arena, so nobody seemed to mind. He looked down at Mezzo and shook his fist as if trying to give a thumbs up, but the boxing gloves didn't allow for that. Jicama laughed it off and went back to waving.

"Given that this is a charity fight between a professional and an amateur, we have decided to change the rules just for this one match. If Jicama can land a hit - just a single, unblocked punch - on Ichigeki within the three-minute time limit, he is deemed the winner," Hearing the changed ruleset seemed to mess with Jicama's happy mood. His smile wavered a bit, which Mezzo definitely noticed. The helper got his master's attention and pulled him closer to the corner.

Mezzo questioned, "Did they tell you beforehand that the ruleset would be altered?"

Jicama shook his head, "No, but, it's fine Mezzo. If I'm only to land a single hit on Ichigeki, I'll make it count. Don't you worry," His happy smile seemed to be back, but it was a smile Mezzo had seen all too often. Most recently, it was the smile he'd had prior to the estate's cinema room becoming the site of a blockbuster movie's world premiere. Naturally, it came after Jicama's request to attend the premiere in East City had been denied by the parents.

Needless to say, whatever Jicama had planned, mischief was sure to ensue. Mezzo warned, "Ichigeki's entire livelihood is centered around his presence in this sport, Master Jicama. I beg that you do not make a fool of him. His energy signature is actually quite minuscule, all things considered."

"I'm aware, Mezzo," Jicama quipped back as he loosened up, hopping from foot to foot and shaking his arms mildly, "Actually, I might offer him a session with you after this is all said and done if you don't mind,"

By this point, everybody who wanted to stick around for the charity match had returned to their seats and the arena was rocking yet again. Jicama rolled his neck whilst still hopping as he waited for introductions to conclude. Dead ahead of him was the World Heavyweight Champion, the best of the best in terms of professional boxing. He had three minutes to live out his newfound boxing dream.

Not long after taking their corners, the referee called them to the center of the ring and explained the rules. He had the two touch gloves, then returned them to their corners. The losing team's pit crew tried to give Jicama some pointers, but the young adult was absolutely locked in on the task at hand. One hit was all he needed.

Finally, the bell rang, three minutes were on the clock and counting, and the match had begun.

Both fighters stepped a few feet closer, so neither one could be backed into their corner. Jicama wasn't sure if Ichigeki would be throwing punches of his own, but based on the rules, it seemed like he would only be playing defense. Given that information, Jicama didn't even bother putting up any kind of guard. It would be easy if all he had to do was wail on Ichigeki until he got-!?

WHIZZZZ, pfft!

Ichigeki threw a punch at Jicama's gut, causing a wad of spit to go flying off onto the canvas. The punch had very little power behind it, but it sent a clear message: not that easy. Jicama grew another excited grin as he held his fists up in an amateurish boxing stance. An experienced boxer in an actual fight would make light work of him, but when he only had to worry about warning shots, the guard was more than plenty.

Jicama tried to throw a few punches at Ichigeki, but the professional proved to be much faster than his energy level let on. He dodged anything Jicama threw at him with precision and perfection, not wasting even an ounce of energy in the process. Being so well-trained, he definitely had more tricks up his sleeve than the average Joe. Over a minute and a half into the fight, meaning they were already halfway done, and Jicama still hadn't even had one of his punches blocked, let alone land.

Seeing that the basic approach wasn't working, Jicama knew he'd have to turn up the intensity. He started trying to work in combos to hopefully catch Ichigeki in an error and win the fight. A couple of jabs followed by a straight; all blocked. A feint preceding an uppercut? Pushed away off the gloves. It seemed like whatever Jicama tried, Ichigeki had the perfect answer for. He'd seen it all.

"You're holding back," Ichigeki commented, noting how weak the hits he'd blocked had been from Jicama. The look on the amateur's face must've been worth a thousand words, because Ichigeki continued, "Less than a minute left. Let me see what you got, I can handle it," It was tempting. Very tempting. Maybe it was the Saiyan in him, but Jicama seemed to salivate at the thought of unleashing his energy and landing one decisive strike on the world champ. To anybody observant enough, his tail seemed to twitch with excitement.

Jicama glanced over his shoulder at Mezzo, whose kind eyes brought him back to reality. He shouldn't do something like that. Not only was it dangerous, but it would be rude to use his natural strength to overshadow someone who'd trained his whole life for the-?!

WHIZZZZ-?!

When Ichigeki threw his warning punch this time, Jicama reacted in an instant. Time seemed to slow down. He leaned to the side and let the fist go whizzing by his head guard. As Ichigeki continued extending, the amateur made his move. His aura flared up and sent a shockwave of air across the entire arena, blowing hats and glasses off spectators in the first few rows. He reached forward with his fist and whiffed completely. A huge gust of wind flew over his Ichigeki's shoulder and knocked one of his crewmates to the ground, leaving the professional wide-eyed and stunned.

With his free hand, Jicama swung his fist from the opposite side to try to connect with a big haymaker to the champ's head. Ichigeki, despite his surprise, still managed to reach back with the arm he'd just sent the warning shot with and block the hit, saving the match. Jicama's aura died down as he and Ichigeki locked eyes. His message was clear, too: that's why I'm holding back. Then they stepped back to their original face-off distance.

The crowd went absolutely wild. Never in their years had they seen a boxer exude that much confidence and sheer energy, so they were amazed, to say the least. Nobody really knew how the amateur managed to literally knock their socks off, but they didn't care. It was cool! Still, there were only a few seconds left for Jicama to win this. He bobbed and weaved, looking for any kind of opening, but the window he wanted never revealed itself. He had to settle for one last punch, straight at the center of his fists. Jicama hoped to break his guard, but it wasn't enough. Not without going overboard.

DING DING DING

Jicama retreated to his corner as the referee ran over and raised Ichigeki's arm in victory. Despite technically losing, Jicama maintained his smile from earlier. It was a ton of fun, and something he figured he'd want to get some more practice in when he found time. Over the roar of the crowd, the commentators cheered, "What a charity match. Jicama had us all on the edge of our seats. For being such a good sport, we'll go ahead and match his donation to 'Fight Against Hunger' anyway. Thank you, everybody, and have a good night,"

Mezzo clapped for Jicama as he removed his headgear and gloves, which were promptly taken away by the losing fighter's crew. They all said their praises and hurried into the locker room to pack up. Mezzo commented, "Your aura flared,"

"He taunted me," Jicama admitted, "Knew I was holding back. Figured I ought to warn him that it was for his own good,"

"It was showy. The fans loved it. But it's a risk. Remember the discipline training we did, how long that took," Jicama side-eyed his helper.

"Briefly showcasing my power in a fighting event isn't going to make me lose control and turn into a giant primate, Mezzo," Jicama countered before downing the last of the water in the bottle. He used to believe that he would turn into a giant monkey back when he was a child, but in his teenage years, he started to realize it was just a tall tale that adults told to keep their children in line. It always confused Jicama why Mezzo pushed it so hard, so he liked to tease him about it, even now.

The murmur of the crowd had started to die down as the arena cleared out. Mezzo sighed and nodded, "No, no, you're right. I'm being overbearing," He paused for a moment, then added, "Showboating is a bad habit, though. I'm just trying to make sure you burn your bad habit..."

"...before the bad habit burns me, yes, cheers to that Mezzo, but I think I'll be fine. I set out to have fun and I did," Jicama sighed as he slid off the canvas and onto the solid ground, where he found Mezzo chuckling to himself, "What's got you tickled?"

He shook his head dismissively, "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking of how much you reminded me of your father,"

Jokingly, Jicama rolled his eyes and groaned, "Oh great, here we go again," The two laughed for a bit but were interrupted by someone walking over to them. It was Ichigeki, who had sought his opponent out to compliment him on the match.

Ichigeki looked bad, with various bruises on his face from the hits he'd sustained from his first fight, but he seemed to be in good spirits. He greeted Mezzo, then turned to Jicama, "You and I need a training session. I'm curious to see about that punch force of yours behind closed doors,"

Mezzo and Jicama looked at each other, then the latter looked back at his opponent, "I think I'd love that, yeah. You're on, mate,"