ARRANCAR TEMPLATE
Character Name: Shirayuki, Ayame
Gender: Female
Age: 276 - Appears 19
Present Residence:
Appearance:
Ayame maintains a semblance of perfection – clean, flawless, all in order. She gives off a pristine air, as though she’d never be found wearing dirt on her clothes. Even after missions, it’s very rare she’ll be dirty, as she takes utmost care to avoid it – almost as if she had a phobia of being dirty. Blood, too – if her clothes become blood-stained, she’ll never wear it again. The moment she comes back from anywhere, clothes are deposited into the hamper and an hour-long bath/shower is in session.
Ayame has a head of long, pink hair, surprisingly soft and never a strand out of place. She’s constantly brushing through it with her hand if she doesn’t have a small brush on hand, and highly dislikes it when her bangs are out of place. Her hair reaches her elbows, and are often let loose to sway around, as she doesn’t like putting it up. When on a mission, though, her hair is already put into a ponytail and her bangs are pinned back.
Ayame has clear, blue eyes, that seem to reflect everything she sees. They’re almost always shining, dancing with some sort of mirth, as though nothing could ever cloud her mind. However, if one were to try to read her expression through her eyes, it would be neigh impossible to look past her closely guarded blue orbs.
Ayame has pale, porcelain skin, unmarred by blemishes or scars. She does have a mole, though, just below her right eye, if one looks closely. She doesn’t like it, and is constantly trying to cover it up with makeup or her hair. She takes extra care with her skin, believing that clear skin is the foundation of beauty – she is a girl, after all. As much as she wants to, she seems to be unable to get tan – she gets sunburnt well enough, and grows red and has her skin peel if she stays in the sun too long, but eventually fades back to her pale white. Still, she tries, sunbathing every so often. Too bad she only gets burned.
Ayame holds herself with pride. Her shoulders are straight back, her chin slightly uplifted, back ramrod straight. It’s been installed into her since she was young, so she can’t help it, really. She’ll never slouch, and rarely leans back in a chair, instead sitting quite stiffly at the edge. It feels almost comfortable to Ayame, who has been living her entire life in such a position, trained from a young age to do so. She’d like to look as at ease as other people, but when she tries slouching even a bit, it’s as uncomfortable to her as normally-slouched people remaining pin-straight would feel.
Ayame's a feminine girl, through and through. Though she’s a fighter, pants and regular shirts are a complete void in her wardrobe. She’s usually seen in a thin, short, form-fitting dress, dark purple (appearing almost black) in color. It’s a strapless, accessory-less dress, quite plain save for the fact that it has a heart-shaped bodice and reveals much skin, ending mid thigh. She wears black boots, laced up all the way to her knees.
Hollow Hole Location: She has her hole on her upper stomach, just below her chest and above her belly-button.
Mask Remnants: Her mask fragment is placed on the upper right portion of her head, and looks more like a crown than anything. Its a thin, white plate, with three carved points on the top - it's often mistaken for a mere, strange hair ornament.
Number location:Her Arrancar number is emblazoned across her upper right arm, in shimmering, black-green font. She has no qualms about showing it, neither going to lengths to hide nor show it off.
Personality:
Ayame’s a born follower of rules. She was raised to respect the higher authority without question, or at least pretend to have none, and she does so well. Even if she may not agree with the given order, if it’s what she has to do, then she’ll do it as though she likes it. She’s not into the whole ‘rebel’ model, and has a distaste for those who don’t follow orders, no matter what the reason. She won’t enforce the rules upon others, but she’ll very rarely break them herself – even if it means death. It's not that she loves Aizen, or anything; in fact, she holds no emotion to the man particularly, but she knows what he can do. Call her a goody-two shoes, but she’s terrified of punishment, in any form.
Ayame knows it’s dangerous to like someone with a race such as hers. She knows it’s suicide to fall in love. Still, her stupid heart is dangerously quick to do so, and she gets attached very easily. Be it with friends or boys, she’ll be falling head over heels in minutes, if not seconds. Still, she knows where her loyalties lie, something that many think is unlikely for such a girl. Even if she loves a friend or boy to death, she won’t break the rules for them – she won’t even bend them.
Many think it’s strange for such a soft-hearted girl to be a monster, and scoff at her ways. Ayame appreciates life for all it’s splendor – she’s willing to waste an hour to gaze at the flowers, and she’ll spend the night watching the stars. She’s sentimental, too, the silly girl. To those of her peers who take life seriously, she laughs – ‘why take life seriously, no one ever gets out alive anyway,’ she’ll say. When outside of fights, it’s nearly impossible to see this girl as an arrancar – she’s frivolous and whimsical, hardly ever without an oblivious smile painted on her face.
Ayame may be kind, but that's about it; she doesn't believe in getting tangled in others' businesses, unless it may involve her later in the future. She will walk on blithely, ignoring someone being hurt, or even killed, without batting an eyelash. Even if the victim were to cry out for help, she wouldn't even spare them a second glance as she walked away. But she'll still have that lovely smile on her face. She will, though, pick up strays, be it animals or children off the street, so her house is always full of them.
For Ayame, her priorities are set in stone; though she may seem like an air-head, she knows where her loyalties lie. She belongs first to the Aizen, then to herself. She's selfish, almost to a fault; she values herself above others, a reason why her nickname is 'Princess.' She'll use others as her shield if she can, and will gladly step over a person to reach her goals, if needed. She's more likely to stab you in the back wearing that oblivious smile of hers than to help you get back up. Be careful~
Ayame’s persona changes completely when it comes to her everyday life and to her life as an arrancar. She's kinder than the everyday arrancar, sure, but that's about it. She can kill without guilt, without doubt, without hesitation, in seconds. She carries each of Aizen's orders out without question, and should anyone get in her way, they're immediately 'erased.' However, she still knows how to be, well human. She still feels sadness, she still feels joy; she still feels hurt when betrayed, and she knows how to feel guilt.
Fighting Aggression: Ayame's fighting style can be seen as graceful - each movement is made like a dance, one flowing into the next.
Story:
RP Sample: The sample can be from another site, right? :3
- This is a post I made like...a month ago? >< It's as a different character, though~ :3 Still bleach. -
Character Name: Shirayuki, Ayame
Gender: Female
Age: 276 - Appears 19
Present Residence:
Appearance:
Ayame maintains a semblance of perfection – clean, flawless, all in order. She gives off a pristine air, as though she’d never be found wearing dirt on her clothes. Even after missions, it’s very rare she’ll be dirty, as she takes utmost care to avoid it – almost as if she had a phobia of being dirty. Blood, too – if her clothes become blood-stained, she’ll never wear it again. The moment she comes back from anywhere, clothes are deposited into the hamper and an hour-long bath/shower is in session.
Ayame has a head of long, pink hair, surprisingly soft and never a strand out of place. She’s constantly brushing through it with her hand if she doesn’t have a small brush on hand, and highly dislikes it when her bangs are out of place. Her hair reaches her elbows, and are often let loose to sway around, as she doesn’t like putting it up. When on a mission, though, her hair is already put into a ponytail and her bangs are pinned back.
Ayame has clear, blue eyes, that seem to reflect everything she sees. They’re almost always shining, dancing with some sort of mirth, as though nothing could ever cloud her mind. However, if one were to try to read her expression through her eyes, it would be neigh impossible to look past her closely guarded blue orbs.
Ayame has pale, porcelain skin, unmarred by blemishes or scars. She does have a mole, though, just below her right eye, if one looks closely. She doesn’t like it, and is constantly trying to cover it up with makeup or her hair. She takes extra care with her skin, believing that clear skin is the foundation of beauty – she is a girl, after all. As much as she wants to, she seems to be unable to get tan – she gets sunburnt well enough, and grows red and has her skin peel if she stays in the sun too long, but eventually fades back to her pale white. Still, she tries, sunbathing every so often. Too bad she only gets burned.
Ayame holds herself with pride. Her shoulders are straight back, her chin slightly uplifted, back ramrod straight. It’s been installed into her since she was young, so she can’t help it, really. She’ll never slouch, and rarely leans back in a chair, instead sitting quite stiffly at the edge. It feels almost comfortable to Ayame, who has been living her entire life in such a position, trained from a young age to do so. She’d like to look as at ease as other people, but when she tries slouching even a bit, it’s as uncomfortable to her as normally-slouched people remaining pin-straight would feel.
Ayame's a feminine girl, through and through. Though she’s a fighter, pants and regular shirts are a complete void in her wardrobe. She’s usually seen in a thin, short, form-fitting dress, dark purple (appearing almost black) in color. It’s a strapless, accessory-less dress, quite plain save for the fact that it has a heart-shaped bodice and reveals much skin, ending mid thigh. She wears black boots, laced up all the way to her knees.
Hollow Hole Location: She has her hole on her upper stomach, just below her chest and above her belly-button.
Mask Remnants: Her mask fragment is placed on the upper right portion of her head, and looks more like a crown than anything. Its a thin, white plate, with three carved points on the top - it's often mistaken for a mere, strange hair ornament.
Number location:Her Arrancar number is emblazoned across her upper right arm, in shimmering, black-green font. She has no qualms about showing it, neither going to lengths to hide nor show it off.
Personality:
”What’s wrong with following the rules-?”
Ayame’s a born follower of rules. She was raised to respect the higher authority without question, or at least pretend to have none, and she does so well. Even if she may not agree with the given order, if it’s what she has to do, then she’ll do it as though she likes it. She’s not into the whole ‘rebel’ model, and has a distaste for those who don’t follow orders, no matter what the reason. She won’t enforce the rules upon others, but she’ll very rarely break them herself – even if it means death. It's not that she loves Aizen, or anything; in fact, she holds no emotion to the man particularly, but she knows what he can do. Call her a goody-two shoes, but she’s terrified of punishment, in any form.
”I know it’s supposed to be bad, but whatever.”
Ayame knows it’s dangerous to like someone with a race such as hers. She knows it’s suicide to fall in love. Still, her stupid heart is dangerously quick to do so, and she gets attached very easily. Be it with friends or boys, she’ll be falling head over heels in minutes, if not seconds. Still, she knows where her loyalties lie, something that many think is unlikely for such a girl. Even if she loves a friend or boy to death, she won’t break the rules for them – she won’t even bend them.
”The point of life isn’t to die – it’s to live, silly.”
Many think it’s strange for such a soft-hearted girl to be a monster, and scoff at her ways. Ayame appreciates life for all it’s splendor – she’s willing to waste an hour to gaze at the flowers, and she’ll spend the night watching the stars. She’s sentimental, too, the silly girl. To those of her peers who take life seriously, she laughs – ‘why take life seriously, no one ever gets out alive anyway,’ she’ll say. When outside of fights, it’s nearly impossible to see this girl as an arrancar – she’s frivolous and whimsical, hardly ever without an oblivious smile painted on her face.
”It's their problem; they can solve it.”
Ayame may be kind, but that's about it; she doesn't believe in getting tangled in others' businesses, unless it may involve her later in the future. She will walk on blithely, ignoring someone being hurt, or even killed, without batting an eyelash. Even if the victim were to cry out for help, she wouldn't even spare them a second glance as she walked away. But she'll still have that lovely smile on her face. She will, though, pick up strays, be it animals or children off the street, so her house is always full of them.
”It's called prioritizing.”
For Ayame, her priorities are set in stone; though she may seem like an air-head, she knows where her loyalties lie. She belongs first to the Aizen, then to herself. She's selfish, almost to a fault; she values herself above others, a reason why her nickname is 'Princess.' She'll use others as her shield if she can, and will gladly step over a person to reach her goals, if needed. She's more likely to stab you in the back wearing that oblivious smile of hers than to help you get back up. Be careful~
”I know how to kill, I know how to kiss. I know how to live.”
Ayame’s persona changes completely when it comes to her everyday life and to her life as an arrancar. She's kinder than the everyday arrancar, sure, but that's about it. She can kill without guilt, without doubt, without hesitation, in seconds. She carries each of Aizen's orders out without question, and should anyone get in her way, they're immediately 'erased.' However, she still knows how to be, well human. She still feels sadness, she still feels joy; she still feels hurt when betrayed, and she knows how to feel guilt.
Fighting Aggression: Ayame's fighting style can be seen as graceful - each movement is made like a dance, one flowing into the next.
Story:
- Life in the living world: Ayame had what others saw as an easy life. She was born into a prestigious family, one of those ancient, historic clans with their roots embedded deeply into the country. Her grandfathers and uncles were past war heros and fiercely involved in politics and business, and her own father was a prominent weapons dealer. She had two elder brothers, whom had both been top students in their academy days and were now studying under their father.
Others viewed her life as flawless, and problem free. What could she possibly have to worry about? She had as much money as she could possibly need in her life, both parents still alive, and all bullies were taken care of by her brothers. No sad deaths or violent pasts for her, oh, no.
But living in such a household was difficulty itself.
Women of her family were expected to be perfect. Feminine, sharp to the point of being uncanny, able to root out ‘problems’ within the family clan as the head’s ears, and well-trained in the arts and skilled in tongue. Ayame was…nearly none of those. She had too much freedom in her spirit, too much frivolities in her mind. She was a bad judge of character, too, something that was horrifying to her mother. Everyday, she had numerous tutors; the art of brewing tea, the art of painting, the art of eloquent speech. Of course, she was a helpless case in those.
But she had a beautiful voice, and a penchant for singing, probably her only saving grace. Her father favored her even though she was a failure as a lady, because when she performed for him and his friends when they came to the house, everyone was delighted. Her mother, too, though she tried to remain strict with the girl, couldn’t help that Ayame could charm even a snake with her laughing personality.
That all ended when the carriage with her and her family overturned in the middle of a busy road. - Life After Death: For days, weeks, months, Ayame sat beside the area where the carriage had fallen, crying, sobbing, shrieking. How could this have happened to her? Her, the golden daughter of the wealthy family? How could the world have allowed such a thing to happen? She sat there petulantly, glaring and hissing at anyone who came near - but of course, no one could see.
She was a ghost, after all.
And the painful chain that attached to the hole she now had in the middle of her chest, oh, how she despised it!
She would tug often at the chain, grimacing each time because pulling at it hurt. But still, she tried. Perhaps if she'd tried hard enough, she could pull it all out-? Perhaps she could become human again.
But no one ever came to tell her otherwise, or to send her off to 'heaven.' Strangely enough, shinigami seemed to miss this particular girl.
Perhaps it was because her death happened at the time of so many others - over ten carriages had crashed in the huge accident.
Ayame watched, as her chain slowly shrunk, becoming shorter and shorter. It grew more painful with each day, but she held it in, tears brimming at her eyes. Where was her momma? Her papa? Her brothers? She didn't like this, not at all.
She was lonely, she was afraid.
She'd been so for months.
And then the fright turned into irritation, and irritation into anger.
Who was leaving her to be so? Wasn't someone supposed to come get her? Wasn't something supposed to happen now? Was she to spend the rest of her life like this?
And one day, the rage overtook her.
And she became a hollow. - Life as a Hollow:
IN those days, she had neither speech nor thought, really. All she did was eat, day in and day out. She'd eat, eat, eat, and never get full - it was almost frightening.
And she ate humans, no less.
She seemed to relish in the terrified screams that were elicited just before she gulped down the humans, one by one, the fools that couldn't see her. She'd prowl the human world, narrowly avoiding being caught by the patrolling shinigami, ducking into hiding whenever she sensed them anywhere near her. She'd pluck up the humans, in pairs and trios, and gobble them up.
She didn't even taste them.
But no matter how many she ate, it was never, ever enough. The insatiable hunger drove her insane, and with each passing day, she hungered for more, more, more. Until finally, she began gulping up families at a time, so many families a day. She'd move from town to town after each meal, to avoid being caught - her mind had started returning, her wit had started coming back to her.
She continued to eat and hide, eat and hide, continuing the came of cat and mouse with the shinigami that followed her closely.
Until one day, she'd eaten enough humans to take on a human form herself. She could talk - the gift of verbal speech had been granted once more. She could think - mentality, too, was given back. She could jump, she could skip, she could think, she could laugh - she was practically a human, now!
But still, her hunger for humans could not be sated.
Even in human form, she desired to eat others. And it was easier, now - she, too, was human. And she could think, she could plan, she could deviate. She was eating humans by the tens, switching location quickly, hardly ever allowing a shinigami to get even close to discovering her.
And then, she met that man...Aizen...Sousen. - Current Life:
Do you want to be a true human, he'd asked her.
She'd nodded dumbly, feverishly, desperately. She'd almost latched onto the man in hysterics - this man could have turned her back? Brought her back to life?
But something held her back from doing so. Perhaps it was the overwhelming aura that exhibited; his Reiatsu was something else. It was concealed, yes, but she could feel the oppressive power, trembling to be unleashed. Ayame had held back, but still nodded almost madly.
And he'd done his magic.
Somehow, someway, she could be seen again. Her body felt physical, and she could ram her fist into the brick wall and not phase through it. She didn't feel the terrifying hunger she always had.
Somehow, someway, this man, Aizen, had bent the laws of heaven itself and granted her life once more.
Of course, she understood she wasn't human, either. But she felt more human and alive than ever before in her life, so she didn't mind.
She was what they called an 'arrancar.'
And she loved every second of it.
RP Sample: The sample can be from another site, right? :3
- This is a post I made like...a month ago? >< It's as a different character, though~ :3 Still bleach. -
- Spoiler:
- Rouge’s ears had caught the soft pitter-patter of footsteps a little while ago already. The footsteps had wandered from side to side, as if their owner had next to no idea where to go, or even where he currently was. Rouge, strangely quiet for once in her life, had felt the giggle rising up in her throat - that was a more familiar emotion. It was strange, she mused, how everything became so much more amusing after she’d become an arrancar - death, sadness, pity…all those negative emotions became comedic, now. Was it just her, she wondered. Or was it all of them, the damned creatures?
“Hey, you, girl!"
Rouge felt her heart flutter at the voice - she became strangely excited at the arrival of company these days, it seemed. Though it usually ended in a lovely bloodbath, it still delighted her all the same. Maybe it was the irony that it reminded her of her human days; the days she claimed to detest, but in all honesty, wasn’t all that bad. But those rainbow colored days were the past, and now, now was the present - the present, painted over with red and black and white, without a single gray in the middle. Rouge twirled her black parasol about her shoulder once, twice, feet still unmoving to face the newcomer. She should probably meet him.
Rouge’s feet turned her around, the bottom of her dress lightly blowing in the wind, her red locks swaying gently this way and that. She blinked her large, red eyes, the black lashes accenting them making them appear even larger and redder than they really were. A grin, excited and delighted and maddened all at once, crept over her expression as she saw the man. He looked a bit…different from the others. He didn’t look so…bored, like so many arrancar were. The arrancar, condemned to an eternity in such a desert, who believed they had seen all there was to be seen.
But this man, this man in front of her…his every step seemed to spring to life, his very breath seemed to whistle a vigorous, lively tune. It made Rouge’s pulse race even faster. She’d have fun with this one, she realized. And in a flash, the traces of humanity and sanity vanished from her mind, banished to the crevice of her thoughts. In a second, Rouge’s grin, too, sprang to life, washed over as if by a wave of insanity. In a moment, Rouge was no longer Rosa, but Madame Rouge. She was the arrancar of madness.
With a high-pitched shriek of laughter, Rouge walked forward, her long heels digging softly into the sand. [color=red]”…Hello, dearest fellow arrancar,” she murmured, the words rolling silkily off her tongue, her voice low and sultry. She giggled again, twirling a few times, each turn bringing her closer to the man. She narrowed her eyes, then, trailing her tongue over her lower lip - she could smell his blood, the sweet, sweet scent, that completely reigned over her senses. She trembled lightly, giggling, and wrapped her thin arms around herself. Rouge wouldn’t waste anymore time.
In a heartbeat - oh, the irony, Rouge giggled - she had pulled at the handle at her parasol; a blade emerged from the handle, and she tossed the black umbrella to the ground. It fell into the sand with a soft thump, rustling the soft ground. Her blade glinted a dark red in the sun, and she brought it to her mouth, allowing the cold steel to briefly meet her lips. If she concentrated, she could still smell the blood of her previous acquaintances, forever stained onto the rapier. A large smile came over her mouth again, and her tongue trailed languidly over the flat of the blade - it snagged against a particularly sharp edge, and a red bloomed on her tongue.
Rouge seemed to suck at her own tongue, sticking it to the roof her mouth - oh, how she relished this taste, she breathed. She was but an arm’s length away from her companion, now, and her eyes lifted to stare at him, enjoyment dancing in their depths. Suddenly, she darted forward, her sword stuck straight outwards. She sliced upwards, just close enough to make the smallest, shallowest of cuts on his chest should it land. It wouldn’t hurt much - it almost wouldn’t be felt at all, for an arrancar such as he. But she really loved to see the red color on another.
She stepped back then, quickly, and laughed. Her mouth parted open, to reveal the words : “Desangrarse hasta la muerte, mi bella,” And out of nowhere, a massive shower of rose petals rained down on the two, fluttering wildly in the small breeze. It completely hid Rouge’s form from view for a few moments; when they slid away, she stood there, wearing an even larger grin. A large red sash hung from her thin waist, strewn entirely with rose blossoms; roses grew in an entire five-foot radius from her feet, completely concealing the sand below. Green vines seemed to snake upwards and wrap loosely about her arms, giving it a look as if a green fabric were draped around her.
”Will you be the one to keep me entertained today, arrancar…? I am Madame Rouge - the mistress of red,” she murmured, before giggling once more.
Wed Jan 03, 2024 12:18 pm by Senetue
» Return of the Fallen -WIP-
Wed Jan 18, 2017 12:27 pm by Aki_624
» Hello Friends
Sat Jul 16, 2016 12:44 am by Senetue
» Fumetsu no kōfuku, 12th Division Captain
Mon Jun 27, 2016 1:29 am by Fumetsu no kōfuku
» Asgier Blackbane (WIP) (continued)
Fri Apr 29, 2016 11:14 am by vergil_90