| | I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) | |
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Merrow, The Little King
Posts : 13 Join date : 2013-04-12
| Subject: I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) Sat Apr 13, 2013 2:57 am | |
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Arrancar Information Name: Merrow Azerium Age: Total age - 2421 years old. Twelve as a human, a few hours as a soul, 1799 as a hollow and the rest(approximately six hundred) are arrancar. Visual Age - as he when he died as a human, a 12 year-old child. Gender: Male Rank: El Rey De Las Noches/Race Leader. If this is not attainable, the next highest rank. Looks: A smiling youth, with fair skin, mismatched eyes, and black spiked hair. Standing of relatively small stature, and also of relatively small form, he is anything but imposing. As a matter of fact, given his tendency to act much like he appears among his brethren, one would assume that he is as he appears: an innocent, young child conscripted into the madness of the Arrancar species. But, looks are deceiving, and this one is a pure psycho-maniacal homicidal sociopath(Despite the redundancy of this phrase, it is fairly accurate) rather than innocent. With a constant grin, shining eyes, and skin free from blemish, almost radiant in its purity he is like the romantic depiction of a Cherub, despite only being such in form, given his youthful self and yet oddly diminutive size. But purity and innocence and kindness are not traits he has much of. On to more descriptive features. He has complete heterochromia, stemming from an injury in his human life(with one eye stained crimson(left), the other hazel(right)), which spawns his mismatch eye color. There is an ever-constant smile, revealing serrated, shark-like teeth, always present for any reason even when he pouts. As mentioned he is of relatively short stature(mostly due to his physical/visual age) and of a small physique, implying that he is a non-combatant, but really it all adds to the facade of his 'harmless child act.' His Hollow Mask Fragment is the remnants of the ‘helmet’ he had upon reaching Vasto Lorde stage: It covers his the right side of his forehead, and forms a sort of eyehole around that respective eye. The color of the mask matches his skin color well that if one were to look at a distance, it seems as though the mask was actually a deformity on his face. His Hollow hole is located a centimeter below the lower portion of his sternum, it is roughly 1.4 cm in radius. His clothing is composed of the standard jacket, undershirt, hakama and boots, with no variation whatsoever except that its shrunken so it actually fits rather than loosely smother him. Intriguing to note is that he takes pride in the white uniform, and thus always rushes back to change it should it get dirtied, meaning he has multiple identical sets. The white jacket is always kept together, thus not exposing the shirt he wears underneath, his hakama are of the split variant therefore looking like baggy trousers than a giant dress. The inverted color footware are in fair condition, and like the rest of his clothing, fit rather well, with the hakama's ends tucked inside of them to prevent the excess fabric with impeding his movement. Upon making it to the realm of Espadas, his tattoo would be located on his back, centered so as to be overlaid on his spinal column about part way down his back, past the shoulder blades. Ability Information Name: PreservacionType: Innate/Misc. Range: Contact of drool Description: Think of his drool as a potent preservative. Maybe it's some sort of biological evolution given his tendency to gnash and gnaw on bones so usually the offending limb that he has ripped off will be lathered and preserved, as opposed to rot, when he decides to hide it somewhere inside Las Noches as part of his 'limb stash' in case he needs a snack. Or feels the urge to violently murder something, and must sate the instinctive Hollow side without going on a rampage. Name: RegeneraciónType: Innate - Healing/Support/Rei Range: Contact of reiryoku Description: Essentially canon high-speed regeneration. Most external wounds mend within a single round, with limbs taking about 3 rounds to grow back and internal organs not recovering at all. This would mean if he were stabbed right through the gut, the outside flesh would mend keeping him from bleeding out, but his organs are still hemorrhaging. Such a situation would probably require immediate medical attention to avoid eventual death. However, Regeneración can also be applied in a manner similar to Healing Kido, in that transfusion of his reiryoku can help mend wounds on those less fortunate not to have healing factors. This mending process, though, is limited as it is to his own body, meaning at best he can patch wounds, not fully restore them. He also cannot help restore/regrow lost limbs. Physical contact is required for the effect to take place, and would require at least two turns of such contact in order to restore someone to the best of his ability. Regeneración is still active in the release state. Name: Pesquisa Type: Sensory/Support Range: 800 meters Description: The true effective range of this ability is more within a hundred meters. Effective meaning able to clearly and definitely detect the powers (reiatsu) on an opponent. Any further than that, and while he may be able to lock on to a specific reiatsu signature, he has difficulty in determining the overall strength of the opponent. Zanpakuto Information Name: Acheron Type: Unimportant (Bladeless hilt - Cutlass) Appearance: It's an ornate, seemingly jewel-encrusted hilt. What more do you want? It's dimensions? Why would you need that? He's never going to use it during a fight! Especially since he loves punching and kicking people more. Resurrection Information Release Phrase: Vanish! Appearance: Like other arrancar when one utters the release phrase of their resurrection, Merrow gains a piece of his former self back. He awakens the natural power that had been locked up when he choose to become an arrancar. But, unlike some arrancar, he still retains his humanoid shape and is still a bipedal vertebrate. The transformation process, a blast of reiatsu colored pitch-black, will obscure the process (as is common with most Arrancar's Zanpakuto releases or 'Resurrections'). At the end of it all, he appears mostly the same, just that his body seems to have physically matured a bit, making him quite taller. In fact, the appearance he has is probably due to the fact his Hollow form was significantly larger than his Arrancar form, so returning back to his roots would inevitably mean altering his physical body such that he looked like he was in his late teens. So all in all, still human-like. It's just that he gains some additional limbs. And not arms nor legs nor something of the nether region, mind you, but rather, wings. Black wings that sprout from behind him, massive feathered appendages, numbering six, that lazily rest behind him. He appears as an angel, you could say a fallen one whose wings have been tainted by unforgivable sin, and thus branded with a mark of shame. Pity, he doesn’t feel remorseful at all, despite his appearance. Whether or not he's aerodynamically fit for flight, he still hasn't tried to confirm if he can. Beyond this, his appearance doesn't seem to have changed (unless one also counts the large holes now ripped into the back of his shirt and jacket unless they were removed prior to his release). However, the wings are massive, and the numerous feathers are collected well together to prevent light from passing through and thus, when they unfurl a shadow is cast over Merrow the mix of the light and its absence, the dark, gives hint to his own fractured self, the result of a piteous past. These black wings may seem like aesthetic, vestigial structures but they tend to prove rather useful when in a fight. They can withstand (though not dispel) most reishi-based attacks (dependent on various factors) as well as blows from physical attacks, and thus can be used as shields. They also serve as reishi reserves, absorbing free-floating spiritual energy and, after pooling them with his reiryoku, converting them in a solid shape the feathers. Most techniques require a feather to be plucked, and utilized for they are nothing more than compressed containers of energy, and thus capable of being more than airy pieces of material that are used for decoration. Given the number of wings he has, and that he will most likely have a significant amount of reiryoku, it is rare for him to exhaust up all the feathers, and by that, energy he has without resorting to large-scale damage techniques. Element: Gravity Adjuchas Representation: Winged Humanoid (Angel), though in terms of animals, it's most likely more attached to a large predatory bird of some sort. Resurrection Ability Information Name: Rejuvenecer - Falso, RealType: Support/Rei Range: Self Description: Those six wings on his back are the primary source from which all his techniques originate. Some merely take a single feather, which can grow back just be easily absorbing ambient reishi in a single moment. Others may take up all the feathers on one wing. Rejuvenecer is a passive absorption of the surrounding natural reishi or 'spirit energy particles' or 'spiritrons,' and works at such a quick rate that single feathers can be restored without any conscious effort and without much delay. However, in the case that a total wing's supply of feather is depleted for an ability, it requires a bit more time to fully replenish the wing (though all feather are regrown simultaneously). Falso is the process working naturally, and in areas with high concentrations of ambient reishi (Hueco Mundo or Soul Society) after a single turn has progressed, enough energy has been accumulated to restore the reserves. In the human world, this process takes twice as long (two turns) in order to recover. Only one wing can be recovered at a time, meaning if enough energy is used to strip more than one wing of power, then every other wing will remain barren while the reserves are replenished. Real is an conscious and direct conversion of reiryoku to immediately produce feathers on wings. This will put in effect a decrease to Merrow's Rei stat for the remaining duration of the fight. For each wing that is powered by this method, a -100 is applied to the stat as well as a two turn cooldown that stacks (meaning a -600 penalty and 12 turn cooldown if all six wings were restored simultaneously). The cooldown does not inhibit the 'False Rejuvenation' process. Name: Distorsión Gravedad Type: Support|Misc/Rei Range: Self Description: A selective ability that utilizes the elemental nature of his powers, and the fact that ambient reishi and his own reiryoku are distributed into the feathers of his wings. Selective in that Merrow can temporarily nullify the effects by drawing back more of his reiryoku into his physical body voluntarily for a brief moment (a process that will naturally occur should he fire a normal Cero or any other reishi-based projectile, and last until said projectile is discharged). Said effects manifest as a form of natural and unending subtle distortion of natural gravity, that requires essentially zero focus, in a spherical area that encompasses his whole body and a small volume about him. What we normally see is a suspension of normal gravitational effect in this area, allowing him to indefinitely 'levitate' naturally a few inches off the ground. He can also alter his physical orientation and influence gravitational forces thus allowing him to walk on any solid surface as well as even hang upside down with little ill effects. Distorsión Gravedad requires at least two complete wings in order to remain active. Name: Distorsión Aire Type: Support/Rei Range: Self Description: Precise usage of the reishi stored within the feathers. Merrow can create a unidirectional burst of motion by utilizing the stored energy in the feathers. A single feather from each wing is enough to project him at what would be a brisk walking pace in whichever direction he happens to be directing himself forward, and thus allowing him to 'glide' without visibly moving through the air while Distorcion Gravedad is in effect. A whole wing's worth of feathers can be expende to cause a sudden boost, the speed of which is equal to twice his Rei stat. The end result is him zipping about the battlefield in case of emergencies, and if his body's not in contact with solid ground or a surface in which he can perform "Sonido" with. Distorsión Aire's use has no charge time and the duration for the effect lasts for a few moments when a feather is expended, while a cooldown is only enforced for two rounds if a wing is used up for an immediate acceleration. Distorsión Aire can still operate it's slow usage of feathers for forward motion during the cooldown, but it cannot expend the energy of a complete wing. Name: Distorsión Campo - Nulo, GranType: Area of Effect/Support|Misc/Rei Range: A cubical area directly in front of him. Dimension of length/height/width is 10 meters. Description: A whole wing will be consumed. The area in front of him will suffer one of two gravitational effects. Nulo indicates the field is zero gravity and will first counteract any unbalanced motional forces then nullify gravitational forces, thus resulting in projectiles halting suddenly and then suddenly drifting about. Physical beings who are caught within this are less likely to have their momentum erased and may still travel in whichever direction they were going in, only much slower than before. Unfortunately, one cannot rely on the ability to gather reishi and use them as platforms to maintain stable footing, as the free reishi is also affected by the field, and thus has a tendency to not clump together efficiently. Gran on the other hand, just slams gravity down for the briefest of moment, sending all projectiles that are not directed tending downward into the ground. Beings whose Rei are at least equal to Merrow will not be violently pressed down, but they will definitely feel the pressure. Those above will probably feel a bit of weight, but not be impeded. Those who are weaker may find themselves knocked down to the ground, if they are unprepared. There is a brief pause after the feathers on the sacrificed wing vanish and the outlines of the gravity field appear. It would not be wrong to suggest that Merrow has witnessed the level 90 Hado, Kurohitsugi, and designed this technique in a similar vein. But, where that advanced Hado is likely to kill those who are unfortunate enough to be trapped in it, Distorsión Campo is more likely to disorient or temporarily immobilize his enemies. The duration of the field lasts a single turn. Upon the dissipation of the field, a two turn cooldown is in effect. Name: Emplume - Espada Negra Type: Projectile|Melee/Offensive/Physical|Rei Range: Lenghth of blade, approximately 1.5 meters. Description: A single feather plucked from the black wings. This time rather than allow it to swirl about, becoming a spiral of destructive energy, it elongates itself, forming a blade of sorts. With the feather being the source of which the reishi (collected and pooled to form a solid portion) extends itself from, the energy manifests as a dark-colored blade, a side-effect of the coloring of the user's reiatsu. One could attribute these as similar to the Quincy ‘Seele Schneiders’, as they are composed of cycling reishi particles to form a solid shape thus creating a chainsaw effect. The only difference is that the Espada Negra does not grow more powerful with each blow it lands upon the opponent(via absorbing their own reiatsu, that is). Actually, the instant the feather begins to release the stored up energy, it lasts for only a short amount of time before dying out, as the spirit energy is forcibly discharged(something it, a container, was not intended to do). The upside to the weapon is that the energy in question has been converted into Hei’s own power and thus allowing him full manipulation as to the shape of the ‘blade’. The technique is named due to its natural coloration, and because of its initial shape, however its form can be altered at will(though there is a momentary delay, and rapid alterations are nigh impossible). The cutting potential of Espada Negra is strange at best. Given its nature, it can and will damage virtually anything that it comes into contact with, but the extent of the damage varies depending on the innate strength(durability) of the object it is clashing with. A being whose durability is greater than the energy that is compelling reishi particles to cycle in order to form a cutting edge may suffer a surface cut, but will cause the Espada Negra to burn out its energy within a moment rather than a few seconds. Whereas a weaker being, or weaker objects could be cleanly sliced through. Espada Negra can also be manipulated without physically interacting with it, though the maximum range in which it can be used is within five meters of his body. There is no charge time nor a cooldown time required for Espada Negra, while the weapons remain active during a single turn. The only restriction is that no more than five Espada Negras can be active at one given time. Name: Emplume Cero - Esfera Caos Type: Projectile/Offensive/Rei Range: Maximum Cero range of 20 meters from physical location (if he moves further back after firing one of these Cero's, the distance they can move forward drastically decreases); Cero explosion and core range is half a meter in radius in a spherical space; Field generated afterwards is a sphere with a 10 meter radius. Description: Essentially a Cero, infused with the element corresponding to the Res. It takes the shape of a black marble upon charging. It requires single feather to be plucked from the wings(causing a mild amount of discomfort for the user) and be used as the basis of which the Cero is focused. The projectile rapidly compresses into a dense spherical object, and instead of being fired immediately like a blast from a focal point is flicked in the general direction of the enemy. Then, like a beam, it shoots forward. A black streak across existence, it will be sent flying forward at a speed closer to a Bala then a Cero. When it either comes into contact with another object (be it the target or a something close by and in the way of the target) or reaches the maximum range, it then detonates into a rather small explosion that is about half a meter long in radius (unfitting for a normal Cero). The blast is seen as a swirling mass of black, not unlike the Cero Oscuras in effect. Due to the properties of the reishi infused into it: a small gravity field, as large as the explosion's dimensions, is created. The actual effective range of this field is along the lines of of a radius of 10 meters, with ambient reishi being drawn inwards to the spherical area where the explosion occurred (dubbed a 'core'). Reishi-based projectiles fired off while in proximity of one of these fields may either find themselves streaking off course due to its pull (if they are not self-correcting, controlled forces) or losing overall potency if they manage to stay on course. A spiritual being or a physical being with spiritual power will feel minimal, if any, pull by the field however, even if directly next to the core. A physical strike against it may result in possible leeching of limited quantities of one's reiryoku (enough to feel slight numbness of the part that made contact for a brief moment), if direct contact is made (body to core), while all other physical blows will just collide with the core and cause its shift position. As this is still a creation of his own reiryoku, Merrow is more or less immune to the effects of the field, and is still capable of manipulating the cores without direct contact (the 20 meter range attached to the Cero is also applied here in terms of maximum distance he can manipulate the cores in). He cannot make them shift position at extreme speeds, but he definitely can move them around on a whim or even make them hold position and resist being struck and thus forced elsewhere. Or, he can just naturally have them gravitate towards his person. These cores are unstable, and most physical damage to them will cause them to turn volatile and discharge all accumulated reishi and/or reiryoku simultaneously in a grand shockwave/pulse. In addition to physical damage, concentrated reishi-projectiles aimed for the core themselves can also disrupt or break, though this is rarer than a physical strike. Being within the range of its absorption/field puts one at risk of being injured, while remaining outside of that is a guarantee of safety from the discharge. If one is not sufficiently powerful (around Captain-class) a full-charged core detonation at point-blank is most likely enough for fatal damage. Cores that are not fully charged, but are damaged, will disperse the accumulated reishi without incident, however. Enplume Ceros take one round of charge time to prepare. During this charging period, the firing hand(s) holding the feather(s) are not capable of performing other actions without resetting the charge period. Most abilities are also disabled during the duration. Two feathers can be charged simultaneously per hand, making a maximum of four shots available in one go. Cores takes three posts' worth of time until their gravitational effects are disabled, at which point Merrow can either take them and absorb them for a temporary boost (for the duration of the fight) in his Reiryoku and thus increasing his Rei stat by +100 for each core, absorbing them early brings no beneficial effects. Alternatively, he can manipulate them as floating mines to use against his opponents, but only if they are still within 20 meters of his physical location. There cannot be more than four active cores at any given time. If another core is employed, all active cores and the fifth core will detonate. If an Emplume Cero strikes an Esfera Caos, the result is equivalent to a full-charged Sphere/Core detonation. Segunda Etapa Information Release Phrase: DISAPPEAR! Appearance: Imagine a giant adorned in white, but coming forth from his body are twelve wings of black feathers. Merrow's physical appearance now takes on that if he were a well-sized adult, with twelve wings sprouting out from his back, each one massive and sturdy enough that they could probably concuss someone with a direct hit. His physical appearance beyond that is not altered significantly than in his release state. Element: Gravity Segunda Etapa Ability Information All techniques in Ressurection are available in Segunda Etapa, with no alterations. Extra Information Family: From his human life, they are long dead. But in his current life - Every Arrancar that resides within Las Noches, he considers a part of his family. And so long as they do not turn on him, he will fight for them.Personality: A sweet and innocent child who loves pranks, jokes, and company. A deranged being that gorges and chokes on the flesh and blood of his enemies. A warmonger, demented and soulless (by human standards, not spiritual), making use of the remains of enemies their bones being his favorite chew toys. A soldier to death, even when knowing full well that being loyal is nothing more than being a slave, not to the whims of another being, but the dark abysmal instinct that lurks in his own heart and mind. And hidden underneath it all, only expressed as a curiosity and inquisition, a deep and varied understanding and wealth of knowledge voluntarily buried for a number of reasons. Merrow is all of these things. They encompass all the various aspects of his seemingly fragmented psyche. One could assume after meeting him that he, after existing as being with only killing and consuming as the only goals in life, is rather scarred from that time. But they would be sadly mistaken. These 'aspects' are not individual identities; they are a conglomerate with several others that form the mental workings of this spiritual being's singular 'self'. At first glance and with first words exchanged with him(regardless of one‘s race), he seems to be a playful mischievous child, who holds little interest in fighting. One could use Dardonni’s (Don Panini) line for describing him whiles he is amongst friends, ‘Sweet and soft like the chocolate’. He gives the idea that he is a deeply compassionate person, but really these emotions of good nature are only seen in the company of arrancar. He does have a deep attachment to his brethren, and refuses under most circumstances to fight with them as enemies. Of course, sparring, training, and the like are all right with him, but never will he consider them as the enemy until there is sufficient and immutable proof of their betrayal. - The lighter end of the spectrum => Silly Child He always likes to seek out some good-humored fun. Good-humored for an arrancar, that is, so pain, violence, wanton destruction, and the like are usually more common in his daily antics, and many have fallen victim to his ‘pranks’. And he goes about any means to achieve his quota of ‘fun‘, no matter how foolish or childish or even dangerous(such as baiting a massive swarm of Gillian Menos to begin a procession march through inhabited area and crush all within their path) they may seem. These are the few exceptions when he would be willing to injure his fellow arrancar, though often with minimal physical damage and really all for comedic value. More than once has he gotten on the nerves of a comrade just through his ridiculous actions, which can range from weak explosives planted in their beds to drop-kicking them down a short flight of stairs(or out a window of a lower floor of the towers). Usually, his quota is achieved when he gets scolded by anyone who is willing to put their foot down on this. -A being driven by riled hatred, both natural and artificial => Wrathful Soldier Nonetheless, despite his rather crude and immature want of rather horrid moments of hilarity and refusal to fight against his own kind he has no qualms with engaging in combat against those he considers enemies. When engaging a spiritually powerful being of unknown race, he presents himself in an amiable and casual manner taking as much time as necessary to discern what his enemy/opponent could be. After registering the being as whatever race he or she may be does he proceed to take action. If still unsure as to what his enemy is, he will keep to evasive maneuvers until he finds it out. Afterwards, he unleashes the full brunt of his hatred and carries out his attack. Through instinct, experience, and instruction, he has been taught who is the enemy and what an enemy deserves. Swift death is too good for a Shinigami, pain must be taught to them first before they can die. Suffering is not enough for the living (Quincy, Spiritually Powerful Human), they must be shown agony and must experience gut-twisting terror before they die. Or so goes the thoughts in his mind when he engages battle. Without a care in the world for innocents, without a care in the world for bystanders(unless arrancar), he attacks mercilessly with extreme savagery that stems from a millennia and half of contempt and a brain-washing reminiscent training with the arrancar of Las Noches which lasted for quite some time. Who is the enemy to Merrow? He never answered the question himself, and took several ideas from his fellow arrancar. However, it took a long time before he found an adequate answer. The enemy: All, regardless of race, age, gender, or any other discerning characteristics, who stand in the way of the general will of the arrancar. With such a definition, and the general will of arrancars being a want of war, everything and everyone could be an enemy. Even traitors, turncoats, and conspirators of the same race as Merrow would be decimated. But, this answer is merely an interpretation to one question that is vital to their existence. In time, it may change, slightly, but altered in some way nonetheless. After all, if one only has hate in their life, it does make it harder for them to convince others to buy them candy. -War is buffet-line, but only those with a degenerated palette can enjoy its bounty => Psychotic Glutton Even with his hatred and by extension self-loathing of what he's become, Merrow finds overwhelming joy in tearing a foe apart limb by limb. Satisfaction, gratification, with each one downed by his sword, his fist, his power. And with these emotions that would suggest a sense of pride for accomplishing the destruction of an enemy, comes a ravenous hunger stemming from his hollow nature. His means of attack are directly linked to his ire and his hunger, and he always aims to tear apart his enemies and devour them piece by piece. Enjoying the disgusting taste of their flesh, as the bitter and inedible bits of them are swallowed. He savors the taste, but really he more enjoys the disgusted or terrified look displayed from either victims or spectators. And no matter what violent complaints or upheavals his body may give to the gruesome meal, he always consumes it. Fortunately, he's getting a bit better at reigning in the desire ... but he is a selfish brat, and indulges a bit too often. Because of his innate ability, bones have become his chew toys. Thanks to the fact that they can be preserved even after the death of the enemy, he makes use of them with his teeth when in somber or irritated moods. Almost like a dog, he constantly hides these possessions throughout the ‘White Castle’ and more times than none, someone has found a skeletal remain of his victim that he preserved to later chew on. Yet another one of his odd and disgusting habits, that he sees nothing wrong in doing. -"The silent voice within ... speaks the most profound of wisdom"=>Hidden Depths He acts in this manner, and all of this truly is his personality. But it was all developed, with time, learned and imprinted, and then emulated. What rests within is a dull and patient being, one so calm that he seems deceased compared to how he normally behaves these days. A being that is contemplative, reflecting on the thousands of souls that now reside within him dormantly. Their collective identity may have all been trampled underfoot by him, but he still respects and utilizes their existence to his advantage. It's what enables him to understand and behave maturely, ages beyond his external appearance, and also a serious force of consideration that backs all of his decisions. Although in the case of his childish mannerisms, he may discard his good judgment for the sake of enjoyment, other actions do take the full weight and consideration of his reason. And more often than not, he subjugates this reason, since it strays too uncomfortably on thoughts about his very being, and what he wishes to accomplish in this take on life. Likes: 1. His strange sense of humor 2. (Shamefully) The din of the battlefield, and the mutilations galore that stem from conflict 3. All other Arrancar 4. Cooking Shinigami 5. Reading Dislikes: 1. Shinigami. A lot. Like ... seriously. 2. Seireitei 3. The Human World (except when chowing down) 4. The concept of a Cero Espada (He learned Espadas went from 1 to 10, NOT 0 to 9!!) 5. Arrancar Traitors Fears: What does one who lives life so carefree, except when fighting against one's natural mortal enemy, have to be afraid of? If anything, he's probably afraid of more modern technology in the human world since it's still something that baffles him. Hopes/Dreams: He doesn't talk much about it, any more. But he does want one thing. He wants the desire to kill to stop. He wants everything else that gives him joy to be the only things that do, and to cut out the need and pleasure derived from all the gratuitous violence. But he knows that that's impossible to cut out of his existence entirely, so long as he remains an Arrancar and surrounded by Arrancar. Sexual Orientation: You know, given his physical body isn't developed and he loves to play the 'innocent child' card it's difficult to classify. If he were at all interested and also able to follow through on the carnal side of attraction, it'd most likely be bisexual. However, for now PLATONICRelationship Status: See above. All relationships would be platonic, really.
Last edited by Merrow Azerium on Sun Apr 14, 2013 4:26 pm; edited 5 times in total | |
| | | Merrow, The Little King
Posts : 13 Join date : 2013-04-12
| Subject: Re: I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) Sat Apr 13, 2013 6:15 am | |
| History: A swirling mass, a torrent, a typhoon of souls is what composes his being. After all, given his ravenous nature, he has absorbed countless, all on a whim. But, like the others of his kind, there is a core, a center. A single soul from the very beginning constitutes ‘him,’ and is the source of his appearance and personality. That one soul has subjugated thousands, if not tens of thousands of souls inside of its being, and forcibly stolen all their wills. It has been alive for a considerably shorter time than some of it compatriots, but it is abundant with memories of the past. -Humanity=> Detestable days, shrouded by ignorance … only near the end was it pleasant- - Spoiler:
The origins of his existence depend on the shattered memories of that one soul, a human child, from years past. A child that would be what the world calls an ‘orphan.’ A little urchin that was what he was. A young boy left on the streets of some country in the past, life in shambles by conflict and disease. His birth, the start of his living existence, was unceremonious, with his father unknown and his mother soon dead. Fate conspired for his existence to be prolonged, in part to the remnants of family he still had. So the lowly origins of this being continued, progressing through the earliest stages of humankind.
At the end of his life, only a tender decade and two years after his birth, he was sentenced to death after he awoke the instinct of slaughter. Did he know any better? Well, not particularly. Actually, no, he didn’t know. No one had taught him any better, and since he saw people die all the time, he just assumed that what he dispensed with his bare and bony hands was just a natural and daily occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary! Brutality was the nature he lived in, and the gentleness of his soul that was meant to be characteristic of youth was abandoned for granite pragmatism and emptiness of compassion.
But, at times he would break from the stony shell of his, and display the most overwhelming of interest in things usually left unquestioned by others. His path was set, when that eternal inquisitive nature turned to a sight near the day of his death. Beasts of foul nature descended upon the dead, and feasted away merrily, all natural, all part of the cycle of life and death. These events, though seen as acts of demons outside of clear sight and thus immediately dispersed, did not escape his gaze. His young and unknowing mind had recorded the sight, and he would remember … remember.
~Black feathers strewn about, as the beasts descended, Crows, in this case. Their small eyes and pointed beaks were enough to draw repulsive reactions from all who looked at them, as they dipped their heads down to tear at the flesh. The blood was splattered all about, as the birds merely ate their fill.
Small eyes watched from a distance, multiple sets of them to be exact. A cluster of ragged children eyes the crows from afar, seeing the creatures of evil continue with their meal.
”Damned kids! Get over here!” a gruff voice called to them, their caretaker, or at least, someone who acted as an authority figure for some of them. Some being a large number of them, actually, as only a few of the rag-tag group remained to watch curiously. His mismatched eyes gazed all so intently … as the questions for the devouring of human flesh crossed his mind.
He was, for lack of a better word, tempted to try a taste of said flesh. It always baffled him, since a corpse or two was a daily sight, what the taste would be … and the constant pangs in his stomach only worsened that want of violation of a ‘taboo.’ But what was a human law to him? He was already excluded from what little legal system existed, seeing as he was a little wretched child with no immediate family whatsoever and in quite dire squalor. The laws and morals of society, it seemed, did not apply to him because he was an inferior thing. That was his perception from the start, after enough time of being tormented, assaulted, and mocked he had learnt that a rather large portion of the society he had been born into would not care if he dropped dead in the middle of the streets in broad daylight.
This exclusion of his existence made him wonder if he was bound to the same rules as everyone else, but really all this philosophical thought would be speculated on in the future, after the gift of hindsight was acquired. He was a child, and with the mind of child, at the verge of breaking the confines of his youth’s mental limitations, he wondered at the objects he always saw. He wondered about the corpses, about the dead. What made something dead? When it stopped moving? When it started rotting? He didn’t know what made it so, but he later learned that one fact that confirmed the death was if they could be eaten.
After all, he was … what was he? A scrounger or scavenger or waste-picker, in other words a person who makes his meal from the remains of those of others. Filth was omnipresent to him, and the decay of flesh was another always present thing given the shoddy condition of the area he lived in. So, being one who had relatively little, and seeing this as relatively abundant, with not one person rushing to claim it, except maybe to bury the cadaver, whom would only just rot later, he became curious about it becoming a steady food source. But, the fateful day that he partook of flesh, and set himself on a path of eternal damnation and carnage, happened to be the day he expired as a human being and was reborn.
That day, he recalls, was in the midst of summer, and he thinks fondly of it since it marked the beginning of his transformation into what he is now. That day, he was in some human state, some emotional level of … some varying kind. What was that emotion? Was it Fear? Or hunger? No, it was neither of those. But regardless of how he felt, the circumstances were quite simple; he just wanted to strike down the scores of others who had come at him. If memory served him well, he went to the nearest corpse, possibly famished or overwhelmed by curiosity, but others closer in age to him than the adults, but still not adults themselves, descended upon him. They knew right and wrong, but they were not used to savagery as he was. He proceeded to increase the number of corpses lying on the earth, not wanting his experimentation to be impeded. The other mortals dropped like flies and he emulated the beasts he had seen earlier in his life, taking with him, shortly before his death, the first taste of humanity, and that would never be his last.
His death came swift, for the enraged loved ones of his victims were harrowed by the killings, but all more horrified by the spectacle of this youth devouring, or attempting to do such, and desecrating the bodies. His head was lopped off in one fell swoop, but not before he had already had his first meal of human. And that wonderful sensation, the rigid hunks of flesh, with the bitter crimson tincture: A sweet meat, and a delectable fluid. Oh, how he longed for more …
-Soul=>An important part of any arrancar’s breakfast- - Spoiler:
But reality was harsh to him, as he became aware of his predicament. He was a spirit, and he was unaware that he could still interact (and thus attempt to devour) with the material realm. But the aftertaste of his last meal still lingered, driving him mad … he had discovered an abundant food source, and probably could have lived longer. He had found a meal far richer than anything else he had eaten before, and right when he was going to set himself upon the food, he was deprived of it, seemingly for all eternity. The maddening sensation of humiliation and anger only hastened the shattering of his chain of fate, which he hated noticed was even there on his chest.
-Hollow=>It begins.- - Spoiler:
It did not take long for the Soul to corrupt, and rapidly transform into a new body. Within only mere hours of mourning for the lost chance, the bitter emotions turned to hate, and the agitation merely sped the process to the end. His body exploded in size, expanding outward to become a new mass, while he tried to inform the world of the living of the pain he felt during this transformation. He produced multiple limbs, tearing through the flesh of his sides to be created, and they would make it easier to grab and restrain his morsels, his teeth became jagged to slice through the tougher flesh, with multiple sets laid behind them to mince every part of the human he could fit into his mouth. Various skeletal protrusions expand from his mass; they were composed of a ceramic like material, layering atop the distorted and twisted body, coating it in a natural body armor that only enhanced the grotesque beast. This substance would also cover his face, adorning it with a mask of misshapen features. The whole procedure took merely seconds to complete, and when the pain subsided from his body … he no longer thought. His thoughts were suppressed with an overwhelming desire, the same desire that drove him to this state: The desire to consume.
He went day by day, mouth drenched with blood, extra arms holding pieces of the remains of his meals. To most people of the immediate area, a demon had arrived in their town. It would strike in the darkest of hours, grabbing and consuming anyone foolish enough to wander about the streets alone, while their screams punctuated the night air. Many others remained inside their own shelters, their dwellings … but sometimes, when he could not find walking meals, he smashed his way into these havens and devoured the inhabitants. He loved them all, young or old, man or woman, their flesh was wondrous, and the crimson juice was quenching, but only for a time. It mattered not who he ate, or even how many, so long as he had his chance to consume daily. Even other souls, complacent souls who were resisting the transformation into Hollow were rendered into ribbons of matter by his gaping jaws and clawed hands.
By morning, he rested a little, something perhaps a bit human of his self, but it was mostly since he found it much easier to strike at night, when most were unsuspecting. As days went on, and his killing sprees would thin down the population, he wandered off, in search of a more populated area, looking for greater quantities of flesh. It started with one a day, exponentially growing as his appetite grew accustomed to the meat, and eventually needing more to be satisfied.
But, his consumption spree ended nearly decades after his initial transformation. He had bloated somewhat from the ravenous habits of his, appearing more bulbous in shape from the tendency to swallow large mouthfuls of human flesh at a time. Where he was, he had not a clue, but there were a lot of people, and most of them lived in pitiable situations, usually homeless or in bare shelters that were subject to ruin at almost any given time. In addition to this abundance of human, there were also many Pluses in the area (though he never learnt to differentiate between a Plus and a normal human). So, the gleeful Hollow consumed haphazardly, not aware that the area he wandered towards (and had been drawing near ever since he started migrating) was Juureichi – A spiritually charged area, or a place where supernatural events and beings gathered often at. This place was one of the many that was under careful observation by Shinigami, and of course when a large number of humans died and their souls disappeared, they dispatched the local protector.
~A figure robed in black opposed him.
There he stood in all his chaotic glory, flesh dangled from the bladed edges of his teeth while blood leaked profusely from him, and not a single drop being his. His eyes, now appearing as distorted spheres from the eyeholes of the mask, gazed out as this curious being, robed in clothes of the empty night sky. A shriek resounded from his throat, as he thought his next meal was here … and it was far past feeding time for him! With his bulk and using his additional arms as leverage, he flung himself at this being in black, with every intent on swallowing the small ‘person’ with his wide jaws.
He crashed face first into the ground, and soon a pool of blood formed at his feet, while two sets of appendages crashed in an awkward wide arm-tackled, but blood spurted from them like geysers, as numerous cuts formed upon them. Gashes also appeared upon his body, from blows unseen, and the man in black had moved forward, it seemed … as fearful blank eyes gazed behind the beast’s shoulder.
The man in black was armed, it seemed. A sword in his right hand, stained with blood, his blood. Agony finally set itself in his mind, and his shriek of joy became a screech of suffering. He had never felt this sensation before, ever since he had transformed! The pain! Oh the pain! It was too much for him to bear! And he went smashing along through nearby buildings as pain-induced spasms sent his body lolling about. Until, desiring to escape this pain and the one responsible, he split the air in front of him and opened the Garganta to the world of his kind.
The splitting of the sky was something strange to him, but given how all of his higher cerebral functions were repressed in favor of his maddening instincts, he didn’t give it much thought. But the whirlpool of chaotic reishi seemed comforting, almost as though it beckoned him home. And without much a pause, he would dive into it, and emerge at the other side in Hueco Mundo.
+ Hueco Mundo: Life - Spoiler:
It was a world … unusual to him. The world that was the home of his kind, but he had never seen it in his existence. He had spent maybe thirty or more years in the human world, feasting like a mad man on all that wonderful carnage, but now he had come ‘home’ in a sense. The abundance of reishi particles, the true purpose behind his mindless consumption of Pluses and numerous humans, the reason why he was lured to such a dangerous area in which Shinigami could assault him, filled him with the sense of fulfillment. After all those years of consumption, he was finally, but only temporarily, satisfied. The aching inside of him filled by simply breathing here, but his love of devouring would not fade as easily as the instinctual impulse to consume would.
For once, the eyes that he used to examine the other world finally focused more so than ever before, taking in the expanse of white ‘sand,’ the empty black sky, and the giant moon looming above. While his mind may have been driven by instinct, it was still intact and had been functioning up to now, and all those memories and the overwhelming euphoria he felt after each kill returned to him, but, much like the child he was when he was alive, he was also overcome with another insatiable aspect: curiosity. He wandered, lumbering about thanks to his deformed and swollen self, to try to see if there was anyone … anything else out there that might answer his questions, even if only just one out of the millions that were in his mind.
~How long had he wandered across these deserts, and … dunes, he believes that is what they are called? It was, quite frankly, pissing him off that there was virtually no life around here, he’d spent quite a number of days just lumbering away on short and pudgy legs … using his additional arms as support to even lift his body off the ground.
‘This body's so . . . fat …’ went the half-mused thought in his mind, considering a means of how to make this movement/transportation issue less worrisome. His thoughts were cast aside by what appeared to be an animalistic screech … a very familiar, squeal, that of a demon, much like him. During this trip across the dunes, he acknowledged that whatever he was and why he became such, he was definitely not a human being … he had heard others talk about demons being grotesque creatures, and how one could eventually become them, given the right circumstances. But then again, he could care less about it, since he didn’t mind it much …
Back to the issue at hand, three other Hollows were now engaging him, each considerable smaller than he was, but then again he was a walking meat bag with six arms. One looked like a giant Dragonfly(though he just identified it as a flying bug), another like an oversized scorpion and the third being … some … strange … frog-like thing.
The Dragonfly zipped straight at him, expecting a portly like him to be slow in movement in general. The poor thing was snatched at by the giant hands of his, two of his ‘right’ hands, one grabbing what would be the neck, the reaching down to a middle section. Apparently, this fellow was not all that much, as he found it easy to keep his grip on him. Then came the Frog, who like his caught comrade, attempted to strike first … with his tongue … actually, it was more like a chameleon’s tongue. One of his left hands reached out to meet it, gripped it … and this fellow, too, was apparently not a physical combatant, as his balance fell and he was yanked over from his original position by his target’s forceful hand. The six-armed demon merely shifted the Dragonfly a bit close to his left, and the heads of the two animal and insect creatures collided against each other, knocking them both out rather effectively.
”Tch! Worthless lot they turned out to be!” the remaining Scorpion snapped aloud, apparent disgust and contempt in his voice.
”Wait … you speak?" the six-armed asked tentatively, a bit surprised, give how the three had wordlessly assaulted him, or two did and the third watched.
”Well no bloody hell, I speak! Where’d you come from, the Rukongai?” the bitter Scorpion snapped again, stinger rising up as golden eyes gazed from the head.
‘Maybe I can finally get some question answered?’
Bonds(?)~ - Spoiler:
It took some time for him to learn the basics of his existence, given his lack of awareness of the Spiritual in the first place. But, it didn’t take long for him to understand what he was … a Hollow. This was Hueco Mundo, home of Hollows. He was the result of a Soul giving in to negative emotions, thus resulting in the rise of a Hollow. And a whole bunch of other rather intriguing things that plagued his mind a lot. The black-robed figure, whose appearance was permanently carved into his mind by the pain (although the wounds had healed considerably at this point) still remained an enigma, as these three claimed to have mostly remained in Hueco Mundo, and don’t recall any of their ventures in the Human world. Unlike himself, they sought immediate quenching of the emptiness through reishi, hence seeking out Hueco Mundo right off the bat. But, now that they were here, they had come to understand … other things. That Hollows were upon an eternal evolutionary path, that path being well-integrated into their nature, tied in with their destructive instincts of devouring.
Menos Grande, the next stage of Hollow Development, was what these three sought … and that they had banded together to try to take down stronger Hollows so as to continue their development (More accurately the Frog and Dragonfly were following the Scorpion out of fear that they would be consumed easily, seeing as he was superior to them in power). Names were not a freely given thing between the four, who referred to each other more on their animal representation, but in the case of the one who had handed two of them their behinds, they gave him the nickname ‘Ro’ from ‘Roku,’ supposedly Japanese for six, representing his arms.
Ro was not overly fond of the name, but seeing as how he never really was called anything except ‘filth’ and other derogatory nouns, he just accepted it without much complaint.
Understanding~ - Spoiler:
A period of time, lasting for about another decade or two, in which the band of four and their misadventures are chronicled in his mind … and later written out, when he had the time.
But, it was just misfortune after misfortune. Misfortune that Huge Hollow packs tried to squash them little bugs (a comment that Ro made, which drew displeasure from both the Dragonfly and Scorpion, while the Frog nearly croaked at the sight of the oversized Hollows), that a large gathering of Hollows shortly erupted into an all-out battle-later-buffet-table, with each of the four having plenty of near-death experiences in the event. Of course, many other things happened, as is always the case given the time spent by this lot, but most of little importance, as it just turned into another meal for them to devour, slowly accumulating as much power as they could.
But during this time, one event of true significance occurred: Their discovery of the first stage of Menos Grande – The Gillian. Although their journey spanned in all directions for god knows how long in each direction, they were met with the most unusual of creatures, one they had never seen before …
~”Take cover!” Ro shouted aloud, as he dove out of the way of the giant looming shadow. The others scrambled as much as they could out of the way, fearing to be stricken by whatever was coming down on them, and of course their sparring mates high-tailed it as well, not wanting to stick around for the … giant … foot.
A foot of white slammed into ground, the blast of wind from it being placed down nearly knocked them all away, as they burrowed partially into the sand, while this being of enormous heights, seemed to traverse with no intent. It gave out a single despairing wail at random intervals, while taking tottering steps forward, swaying with each foot forward. Then, like a giant tree having been hacked at the bottom by a lumberjack, the thing tilted to its left, and fell from its full height with a loud crash into the sand, and most grains were blasted into the air by the impact.
”Geez! What the heck IS this thing?” one of his own companions asked aloud, his voice a mixture of awe and annoyance, most likely the most sensible member of their group, the Scorpion.
”You’ve never seen a Gillian before? … Well, then again, they don’t wander much across the desert anyway” one of the other party called aloud to the question posed, which elicited quizzical responses from the party of four, Ro included.
”Wait … … what’s a Gillian? inquired the six-armed Hollow, feeling the most retarded of his group for asking the pertinent question.
Resolution~ - Spoiler:
A Gillian, a tower of souls, formed when a large collection of Hollows gathered and merged into one collective being. That mindless entity was the Gillian, as each soul within it would violently interact with each other, and in some situations, one soul would become dominant in the body, quelling all of its other roommates before reshaping the mass of the Gillian into their prior form. That was the next stage of Menos Grande, the Adjucha.
The three comrades were disheartened by the news, seeing as how they would have a hard time gathering up enough Hollows to attempt such a thing. And besides, power … it wasn’t something that drove them anymore. They were content with their existence, or so it was implied when Ro spoke with them.
He was never content. He was ever-hungry, and that appetite changed at times, but was always present. From human flesh, to human souls, to information, to Hollows, and now … power. The overwhelming desire to go to the edge of reason, merge into a collective of thousands of Hollows and overpower each Soul so as to become the dominant being, began to flood his mind! He had come this far, and there was no satisfaction to be gained if he remained as he was. But first, he had to deal with these sniveling cowards, who, after their ardent displays of desire, now demonstrated how limited their devotion to the cause was.
And so he, much like in same fit of fury during his human life, ended their existences. He reneged on the promise to fight with them, as they had failed on their promise to him to take him to very ends of Hollow power, the stage of Menos Grande. It was a swift blow by his hands, killing all three simultaneously, as he decapitated the lesser two, while reducing the former Scorpion into a gruesome splatter of shattered bone, mask, and flesh. Their existences would merge with his, as he consumed his prepared meal. He didn’t need them to achieve what he wanted, and rather than let them lead him astray from his goal … they would satisfy him for the time being.
-Menos Grande=>Evolution's Final Course- - Spoiler:
Fate and circumstance were the cause for his progression. What lured him there, he is unsure to this day … but a mass group of Hollows had come together. Most were overwhelmed by several powerful entities, and thus piled atop each other as unconscious forms. A clever move by this lot of Hollows who wanted more power, gather up as many Hollows as necessary to create a huge gathering, necessary for the next stage of transformation.
With the beginnings of his constant leer, and his arms at the ready, he started the fight. A fight that would cause his jawbone to be shattered, and two of his arms painfully ripped from his body and reduced to mush. But, the result was magnificent! More unconscious beings to add atop the pile … all that’s left now was to merge with them. But, what was supposed to happen and how?
+Gillian: Rebirth - Spoiler:
The sheer mass of the Hollows huddling together, and giving that they were all in a near-death state, gave rise to the natural event: the blending of all their forms to compose one being. It was truly a spectacle, in Ro’s eyes … but he couldn’t enjoy for long, as the odd sensation of ‘death’ crept upon him, much like when he had first taste of human. One by one they disintegrated at the core bonds, becoming nothing more than free-flying bodies of spiritual particles, eventually merging into one central figure … a hulking, giant Hollow that swayed from its height, left to right. The mask possessed a characteristic, elongated nose, but lacked eyeholes, and instead a wide grin, from side to side. And with its birthing wail, mournfully shrieked after coming to its new ‘senses’ and as the thousands of souls within clashed with each other.
Enlightenment~ - Spoiler:
How many years were lost? How many decades? Too many, says the Arrancar who recounts all this now. But since he was a Gillian, and his mind was not his, but rather at war with all of the other sentience inside of him, he couldn’t keep track of such a trivial thing as time!
As a combined entity, they all desired one thing: Fulfillment. And to achieve this state of ‘grace’ as they saw it, they had to consume more until their powers, in unison, increased … and they had to subjugate and quell all the others so that they could claim this body as their own. Years dragged on, as the Wide-mouthed Toothy-Grinning Fearless(WTF) Gillian went about consuming others of its kind to satiate the emptiness. And within, most souls were unfortunate. A vast majority of them had petty reasons for clinging onto to their Hollow selves, feeble human emotions. Envy and Jealousy, Hate and Wrath were the kinds of petty things they clung onto. But, they could only cling to one emotion, and that was all.
It took time, for them to be calmed and silenced by the truly wicked: Those who are insane, and admit they are such; those who are morally apathetic and refused to be fettered by a human condition. Outrageous beings that could probably be sent to straight into Hell for all sorts of reasons were the ones that dominated: Sinners and Killers, those who violated laws and taboos for whatever personal reason, and relished doing such.
But, each struggled for individuality out of fear of losing it, whereas he struggled in fear of not achieving his wish. His greed and his drive knew no bounds in this torrent of souls, and he fought and raged all for his existence, so that he could get what he wanted. After all, he was a brat, and a conniving one at that: What he wanted, he eventually got his hands on in the end.
+Adjucha: Another Side - Spoiler:
~The breaking point had been achieved … not only had he squashed all futile resistance inside his body, and thus remained the master of the mass of consumed Hollows, but the size of the Gillian, giving how many others it had eaten at this point, was at staggering limits. The steps in took in its instinctual urge to proceed to hunt and kill other Hollows were slow and delayed steps. But, within the mind, darkness loomed once more in higher cerebral functions.
Until the wonderful day arrived, when in the midst of trying to consume a series of Giant(Huge) Hollows that it towered over thanks to its own bulk, it had a misstep, and came down from the skies to crash into the sand, much like the one the dominant being had seen year ago.
But, in the midst of its fall, cracks could be seen emerging upon the marble-white mask, slowly spreading from the ‘forehead’ and all about … and these cracks even spread into the body, the mass, the bulk of the Gillian. As its fall from grace continued, the entire body was adorned with spider web patterns of damage, until, moments before the fall’s end, the being shattered into a cloud of dust.
But from where the head of the beast once was, a silhouette emerged in the cover of remains, and down came crashing a bipedal creature, with two pairs of arms, a helmet-like mask … and a case of armor surrounding its true body that was made of the same substance as the mask, a bone-like compound.
Snarling issued from the mask and a sickly sweet voice, with a piercing tone range from it.
”SO! Who gets to die today?”
Revelation~ - Spoiler:
A shrill whoop and cry sounded from this being, more human and appearance and definitely not morbidly obese like before. It was one of joy, as he had gone further than a Gillian, as he noticed … and the overwhelming sense of confidence that surrounded him was a result of the surging power he felt within. Of course, curiosity got the better of him, as he wanted to know just what on Mundo he was now, but it took time to get the answers he needed.
Adjucha. That was the name of his stage of being. The Intermediary Great Hollow, the name could be interpreted as a symbol of great power, and one of great fear. Most Hollows seemed to avoid him, as noted when he had to pummel a weaker one into submission before getting it to answer his numerous questions. But at least, he got information and a free meal, as he proceeded on drenched in blood.
An Adjucha was a superior being in comparison to a Gillian … but Adjuchas had to continue eating Hollows to avoid regressing back into a Gillian, permanently. This was a most disconcerting fact for Ro, as he hadn’t expected regression to be possible. But then again, he was used to killing and consuming mass quantities of his own kind, so he soon accepted that truth.
However, he learnt of a beast far greater than his own state. Vasto Lordes. It was as though the gods were laughing at him when he learnt of their existence, a being whose level of power vastly outmatched that of his present state! The greedy child within him couldn’t bear the thought of not being one of the most powerful individuals in Hueco Mundo, even given the fact that he was already incredibly strong to have reached this far in his development. No, he wanted more … and he pursued that goal recklessly, wreaking havoc in his trail of devastation.
+Vasto Lorde: Ending? - Spoiler:
His attainment of the form known as "Vasto Lorde" was not one of ceremony, or joy, or triump like it had been with the Adjuchas form. No, this act had drawn more seasoned Adjuchas, all bearing down on his spiritual presence due to its weakened state. Due to HIS weakened state. It was a horrendous fight for his life, one that he could barely take pleasure from simply because it was a mess. A frenzy of assailants, with spilled flesh and blood everywhere, and just endless conflict ... normally such a thing would be a sort of paradise for him, but in this case his aching form (which looked similar to his armored, horned Adjuchas self, except smaller and now possess a pair of feathered appendages) was in stage a state of pain beyond what he had experienced before.
So that was not a happy experience at all, and he doesn't like to dwell on it. All he knows is that he eventually managed to kick the shit out of the other Hollows, but not before essentially getting beaten down and pinned by the throat by the last one. Fortunately, he was still more powerful than this Hollow, and given his prowess was more in strength, tearing the thing's head off was a quick and clean procedure. Unfortunately, it's massive body had him pinned and what strength he had left went into eliminating this Hollow, effectively now leaving his legs pinned under the corpse temporarily. But even then, the exhaustion he felt made it wholly unlikely he'd be able to stand up at all any time soon. His survival was not looking at all likely until
[i]~[color=yellow]"Well, well now ... What have we here? Quite the vicious one, aint'cha?", a cheery voice called out from behind him, out of sight, considering he was lying flat on his back.
"Good thing I decided to check up on things in the forest ... hmm. Fresh new Lorde, ey? That was quite a show you put on earlier" the voice approached and from the edge of his sight, he could see ... a particularily merry person taking slow steps from around his side, arms crossed with a wild grin upon his face while taking slow measured steps. He was wearing white clothes of some sort, and also had a sword at his side. A weapon he recognized as a Zanpakuto, given his last encounter with the shinigami having been seared in his mind.
The Menos did not respond ... or at least not in a civilized manner, unless civilized means a roar of anger and lurching forward while reaching out, energy drawing forth and spiraling towards the hand into a Cero to use to kill. Which is precisely what the he did. Only to get a bala slammed right into his face, breaking his concentration on the Cero and causing the accumulated reishi to disperse and himself to get knocked back down.
"Tsk tsk ... wreckless too ... Geez. You trying give me a heart attack?" the white clothed man spoke aloud with a slight bit of disgust, "Eh ... would hate to see someone like you get killed off so soon ... so, I'll take that as a 'yes'. Get ready, fella, you're probably going to enter a world of hurt ..."
It wasn't a long procedure. It just involved ripping the mask off the Menos, which was easily accomplished by hand. And from the Menos' perspective ... a strange littler person was standing atop it's body, hand grabbing the lower portion of its face. But it didn't take a moment for the pain to return, and the white mask being torn off.
All he remembers ... is pain
-Arrancar=>The Final Piece of the Puzzle- - Spoiler:
He awoke with a start. There was a massive headache that pounded against his skull, and he slowly pressed a palm into his forehead, rubbing a little bit although ... without giving it much thought. But, it seemed that the pain the subsided, only to give away to a new sensation. His body felt ... strange. For starters it felt much lighter and he seemed to lack another set of arms, these were apparent to him. But, there were other things that he didn't quite understand what was going on. To put it simply, he was sitting there in the forest, entirely nude, and it was a rather chilly time this night. His body unconsciously reacted to the cold, and soon he began to shiver drawing his legs close and arms about in a instinctive move to try to stay warm, teeth also beginning to chatter somewhat.
Until something rather soft, and also pleasant was placed atop him. It was a jacket of some kind, made of white fabric. The newly born arrancar gazed at this white clothing with a quizzical look, unsure of where it had come from ... and exactly why it seemed to give him comfort. But his mind drew its attention away from the cloth to a person who had just sat down right in front of him.
"Well, now. Heh. I was expecting some kind of a demon, but here's some irony.", he chuckled for a little bit at the sight of the child who had been born from the Hollow, "So then ... kid. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
The boy nodded his head. So far, it seemed he understood, yet he hadn't spoken. This silent gesture prompted somewhat of a sigh from the man, who calmly scratched the back of his head.
"Eh ... might as well take ya home with me. Considering how strong you seemed as a Hollow, you might be some worth back at Las Noches ..." the arrancar muttered, as he began to force open the dimensional rift that would lead away from this forest. Much like a kidnapper, the man then grabbed ahold of the boy and quite literally dragged him right into the gaping hole ... he had no intention of leaving behind a newly born arrancar here, when such a succesful evolution could yield yet another soldier for those of Las Noches. And though such an action prompted a complaint from the young one, the gaping 'teeth' of the garganta slammed shut.
And as such, in his own memory, Merrow was ... abducted.
+ Neverending Journey - Spoiler:
His induction, or really his ‘abduction’ into the ‘Torn Mask’ army of Las Noches was mostly an uneventful procedure. As a matter of fact, he slept through most of the ‘ceremony’ and whatnot due to being put in a combat-related coma, and his form taken after the mask of his was shattered very much resembles as it is now. He was, for lack of a better word, a child: ‘innocent’ and youthful in appearance. At this stage of his life, had existed for about two hundred years, and would spend the next centuries in a new form of life.
This boy, the palish arrancar with a small patch of white over his eye and forehead, was now part of the arrancars and the Fraccion who had found him was also given the responsibility of taking care of him ... which involved kicking the runt in the head every morning to wake it up. But strangely, this odd-ball (though still violent) of a Fraccion was the source of Merrow's current-day mannerisms and was the one who determined the child-arrancar's given name ...
~"EH? You like chewing on bones, kid? Geez-ums. You're a god-damn arrancar, not some mutt!", he exclaimed for perhaps the umpteenth time finding the child in his 'care' gnawing away on a thigh bone salvaged from some carcass.
"... but ... I ... I just like the texture of bones!" the nameless child responded in a pitifully defense of his canine-esque behavior, while clenching a bone in his hands, half-gnawed from the sharp teeth he had. He complained in his recent-found voice, a rather shrill one ...
"Pffft. Fine then, kid. I suppose you like those bones then, probably might help you get more bone in you if you eat the- ... ... marrow ... Pffft- Hahaha. Say, what was it that the old man wanted to call you?"
". . . Mello?"
"Hah, yeah. No, ironic names just suck. Let's see ... um. Mello ... marrow ... -eh ... hm. Merrow Azerium ...? Yeah!" the whimsical Fraccion sputtered out his newly formed idea with a rather large senseless grin at the younger fraccion. But, much to his annoyance, he only received a pout, a blank stare, and a cold shoulder. The Fraccion twitched slightly at this silent response, he reached out and pinched the cheek of 'Merrow', which prompted an irritating squawk from the boy who complained earnestly about the gesture.
"Oy oy! Kid, at least be gracious that I even bothered to come up with a damn name for ya!" he barked out, though with a grin upon his face still.
"Gah! Fine! I'm Merrow! Please stop pinching me, now?" was the immediate response from the younger arrancar, who wasn't find much joy in being pinched.
But as the years went on, the child learned not only the silly mannerisms of his caretaker ... but the harsh reality about his existance as an arrancar. He learned that he was a being of power, created from a monster(quite literally), that he had once had a 'human' identity and life.
Identity~ - Spoiler:
His first duty to the White Castle, his beloved home, was to serve as Fraccion to a Novena Espada, seeming to be a child arrancar with no usefulness(despite his long and bloody past of power and killing), and the Novena was a kindly figure. He may have represented loneliness, as he gave the boy his initial name: Mello Azerium, a combination of his old nickname ‘Ro’ and the last name of the Espada himself, effectively making him a guardian figure. In time, this name would be warped by another fellow Fraccion into "Merrow." while Merrow spent those years as Fraccion, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander when he was bored … and he was very often bored. His hazy memories from the past were dug up, since he had them engraved there after emerging as an Adjucha and from then on. The sensation of killing, and the joy of consuming often flooded his mind. But, as he opened up the thoughts of the past, and he had all the time in the world, he reviewed his pitiful existence as a human being.
His form now was based upon the form he took then, with the exception of the more heavily distinguished eye colors, slightly longer hair, piece of mask on his face, and a small hole in his chest. But his mind … his mind was so different! It had been perverted by thoughts of wanton destruction, tainted by the influence of each individual soul he had consumed, and they all mingled with his, even if he had subjugated them to his will. Why was he so filled with thoughts of hate? Was it because that he thinks the world was cruel and unfair when he was alive? Rubbish. If it hadn’t had been like that, he wouldn’t be here now in this situation.
No. It was because his life wasn’t life like it was supposed to. He had the misfortune of being born in a dismal situation and because of that, he was deprived of a time in which he could let his mind be as free as he wanted it to be.
Hell, he had all the time in the world, now, and that was literally speaking. Why not let loose his childish side? That was, if he knew how to express it. Then came the books he found littered about in various rooms, the pranks, the sibling figures who took care of him (primarily by beating the living crap out of him when he screwed around too much), and years passed. They went on and on and on. He aged not a single bit, but his mind regressed a day or so for every week spent in this place. Until he became an utter child, squealing at the sight of the other Arrancar and talking to them excitedly while tackling them in a playful manner (only if he was sure they wouldn’t slice and dice him into many unrecognizable pieces). His reputation as a child, and his affectionate and compassionate nature soon became rampant rumors.
Purpose~ - Spoiler:
Most people let him be, as they figured that it was befitting his appearance, judging him to be a weakling with no battle potential. They ridiculed his Espada master for picking such a weak subordinate, but … those that decided to confront the Novena personally (usually random Numeros who wanted to have the honor of serving with an Espada, or were greedy to use their position as leverage to assassinate an Espada) ended up meeting him. And he loved to listen to them scream. For you see, his true self lay within the profession of killing, but he also developed a bit of sadism as well, enjoying the disgusted or pained and agonized looks of opponents. None of the opponents would be left alive, as his ‘master’ permitted him to cannibalize the flesh of the now-dead Arrancar.
After that, all was fine, and fine and dandy. He learnt more about the world, about Hollows. He learned how to direct all his fury at one species, the Shinigami. And with time, he became a truly disparate being in behavior, achieving his current mental state. Playful and mischievous amongst his loved ‘friends,’ ruthless and destructive against anyone he considered an enemy, be it Shinigami, Bount, Quincy, Human, Vizard or another Arrancar.
Then came some luck. His master died, killed by his own hand to be more accurate, and he had a potential chance to take a seat. Of course, it was known at the time that he had a destructive amount of power, despite his childish exterior and mannerisms … And, in time, he would climb the ranks, butchering anyone that was in his way as he rose in power. But each successive time he did so, regret would take its tool on him. And, eventually, the conflict between it and his desire which had persisted until now, would find a way to resolve itself without completely quashing the other. RP Sample: (Every italicized portion in the history is an example of my role-play style … and some parts of the history, most notably the Arrancar and later Menos portion take on the style of how I normally write for posts) -39 years ago- ”Masterrrrrrr! Fight me!” the boy called out, with that constant sweet voice of his. If one were to disregard the words he spoke, and listened to the sound of his voice, they’d assume a very young and foolish child to be speaking. Actually, they wouldn’t be that far off, as the diminutive arrancar with bright mismatched eyes gazed at his ‘master,’ the Novena Espada. ”Ah … Merrow. I’m sorry, kiddo. Just not in the mood for sparring today, maybe some other time” the elder arrancar smiled at the boisterous request, not concerned the slightest bit at the seeming idiocy of this request. ‘… Merrow …’ the child repeated the name to himself. It had been over a century and he was called that name every single day in the years past, yet he still couldn’t adjust to it. His mind drifted slightly, as was his tendency to wander mentally at the most inappropriate of times. ----Flashback in a flashback, GASP!----
”You have a name, kiddo?” the Master, and his Lord inquired of him, voice a bit gruff and exhausted, most likely from having acquired a troublesome Fraccion. The boy shook his head, a little too soon in response, as he realized he had went by a name during his time as a Hollow.
The varying color orbs gazed at the, to his perspective, giant Espada, whose carved features implied a sense of annoyance by how he acted. That only made him more nervous, as he stammered out that nickname given to him by ‘friends’ in the past.
~Ro~
”Hn. Definitely aren’t a cheery kid are you, huh? … … Hmmmm.” the bemused Espada took a few paces about, pondering something. The boy wondered what on earth could cause the Espada to behave like this. From the perception he had, and his lack of interaction with virtually any living thing that was stronger than he was, he wondered if the Novena was thinking about how to kill him. Until the voice of his master called out the name that would be his for however long he would live.
Mello.--- Merrow. Merrow!
”Merrow! Don’t space out on me now!” the voice called to him, the voice of his greatly respected master, and now greatest obstacle. ”Ah? Oh, sorry master. But … I’m afraid that you don’t get a choice this time.” he grumbled aloud, rudely being brought back into the present. His left arm reached to hilt of the sword he kept by his side, a weapon that was truly not his, but he used it due to a deeper connection to it than most would assume. And the fact that the tricks he could pull of with it were more hilarious then people could expect. His blade was drawn swiftly, and now the younger Azerium glared at his ‘master,’ his foster father. His face was no longer full of cheer, his sweet phrasing in the sound and tone of his voice had ended in his last statement, and now he stood here in the presence of the man he was most grateful for, blade drawn and with all intent on striking him down. His grim expression, a solemn smile in place of the mad grin, mad it clear that he was being selfish, but didn’t want to be. He wanted to be an Espada, and easiest way was to open a spot in the ranks via killing a man he knew very well, and felt that he could defeat. But the pangs of human emotion coupled with his general behavior prevented him from wanting to go all-out, and thus his harsher nature was not turned upon his enemy. At least, not for the time being, as his eyes gazed at the darkening expression of the Novena. Shock and disbelief, which then slowly morphed into anger upon his face. Anger at his ingratitude? At his arrogance? It mattered not, as the Novena soundlessly stood, a habit of his when enraged and wanting to beat someone into a bloody pulp. His drew his own blade, a two-handed blade that he easily hefted with a single hand. The silence of his master brought a the faint curls of his trademark smile, as he knew that he was going to be in for the fight of his life, here. Merrow Azerium had challenged the man responsible for his existence as an arrancar, and he had implied that it would be more than a duel for rank, that he would strike down his friend, mentor, and father without much a second thought when the clash would begin. The two rushed at each other, blades at the ready, and soon those weapons clashed against – He awoke with a start, memories from a distant past had floated in his mind. He lifted up his head from where it had rested and groaned, trying to rub his sore forehead, but only to rub against the mask fragment there. ’What was I doing?’ he inquired, mentally, while also cursing, again mentally, about how his mask fragment had to be on his forehead of all places. And then he noticed the utensil in his hand that vaguely looked like a pen … and the paper underneath it … and the scrawled writing in the most random code he ever created in his life while bored. ”Oh yeah. Just writing … stuff … down” he mumbled, while setting down said tool to yawn a bit. What had he been recording? Or did he even want to know? The arrancar’s head drooped a bit before landing against his arms that fold atop each other on the table. ’Think I’ll just nap some more’ | |
| | | Psychosis
Posts : 23 Join date : 2010-04-04
| Subject: Re: I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) Sun Apr 14, 2013 12:25 am | |
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| | | Merrow, The Little King
Posts : 13 Join date : 2013-04-12
| Subject: Re: I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) Sun Apr 14, 2013 4:27 pm | |
| Segunda Etapa added.
New natural ability "Regeneration" added.
Awaiting re-approval. | |
| | | Kuroden
Posts : 40 Join date : 2010-07-15 Age : 27
| Subject: Re: I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) Sun Apr 14, 2013 4:31 pm | |
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| | | Kuroden
Posts : 40 Join date : 2010-07-15 Age : 27
| Subject: Re: I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) Sun Apr 14, 2013 4:31 pm | |
| Oh, wait, yeah... Approved. | |
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| Subject: Re: I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) | |
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| | | | I ... I AM! . . . (Arrancar Elite) | |
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