I AM Hollow empty inside
Basic Information:
Character Name: Àiyǔ
Gender: Male
Age: 1,198
Residence: Hueco Mundo
Appearance:
Personality:
In a word, Àiyǔ is pious. He worships an older sect of gods, taught to him by the hollow before him; the very same that he devoured in a fit of hunger. These gods are known by humans as the Egyptian gods, though he never refers to them by name. He was taught them by titles "God of the Sun", "Judge of the Underworld", etc. He turned to these gods early in his after-life, because he discovered a painting of the god Anubis, a humanoid-jackal like himself. Being younger and newer to this monster thing, Àiyǔ needed solace. This faith, which worshiped monsters just like him, was exactly what he needed. It made him feel at home. The faith stuck with him, even after he accepted his monstrous nature.
Unlike some of his brethren, Àiyǔ has no issues with being a monster; he relishes it. While other hollows are seeking redemption, or at the very least a humanoid body, Àiyǔ scoffs. Why would he want to be any less than what he is? To strike fear into the heart of others, now that is what power does. The fact that he can't make it a day without something or someone running from him like a child-and often times it is a child- must mean that he is ridiculously powerful; and this is what keeps him walking.
Àiyǔ retains a little of his human nature, however. This manifests itself in the form of his massive greed. Like his time on earth, Àiyǔ spends a great multitude of his time hoarding valuables, money, and other such trophies. In fact, it's uncommon for him not to take something of value with him from every kill.
Being such a greedy person, he also becomes very easily attached to anyone that he views as being worthy of his time. These are rare people in his mind, and he tends to latch on to them; probably a sub-conscious way for making up for the company he never has. While he doesn't outwardly show this, he grows to have great respect for these people or hollows, and charges himself with protecting them. He doesn't often allow himself to see them, but he does thoroughly enjoy spending time with them.
Your Legacy:
Your Story:
RP Sample:
[[I felt that using the entire sample would probably give whoever looks this over a little too much reading for their taste.. So this is just a clip from a post. Typically I don't post quite so long unless others are, but I could find few posts that really exemplify my style and quality that aren't this length; these are the posts I actually care about.]]
Aiden stared down at a piece of paper, crinkled and creased from being opened and folded at least a dozen times that day alone, maybe a hundred that week. Tears stained the paper around its edges, right next to the place where whiskey had stained it the first time around. He read over the neat, loopy little words written out on the page in blue ink. She never used black ink, she used to say it looked too harsh. God he wished she'd written it in black ink; he wanted the words to sound harsh. His eyes scanned the page once again, bloodshot not just from the tears. He read them out loud, wishing they'd finally make sense.
“This has to end, Aiden. I can't sit there and watch you kill yourself.” He stuttered, his voice gruff and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in a very long time. He set the piece of paper back down on the table set in front of him, amongst the empty bottles and old wrappers. There was a sound like breaking glass, and people shouting, but Aiden ignored it. He was living on his friend's couch until he could get a job, he'd learned quickly to ignore what went on outside. He reached into his pocket, removing a small plastic bottle. Time to take his Campral, maybe get some sleep tonight.
The first night all week that he slept soundly without having to take a drink, and it felt good. Aiden woke positive, hopeful about where his life would take him. Then, he looked to his left, dragging his gaze from the ceiling of the filthy little room and stared down the piece of paper, lying on top of an old granola bar box. Suddenly, his heart fell, and everything felt hopeless again. He reached toward a bottle, standing on the floor right in front of the couch that had become his home, wrapping shaky, bony fingers around the thin neck. He lifted the bottle to his lips as if it were water in a desert, taking three greedy gulps, then slowing to sips. The headache was starting to fade, he was shaking less. He felt normal; well, as normal as he possibly could.
He stared down at the sheet of paper. The bottom quarter was tilted up a little, and for the first time he noticed that something was printed on the back. He'd be so focused on the gentle abandonment on the front that he didn't even consider flipping it over. Now, he did; he read slowly through the small, black computer text, squinting to see it. It was a website, copy-pasted into a word document. The page had a lot of information about addictions. At the bottom of the page there was a list of numbers, one was highlighted. He read over the words slowly, the bright yellow hurting his eyes a little.
“Alcoholics Anonymous.” He read out loud, sounding a little confused. His free hand moved without his thinking, reaching for the phone resting against an empty bottle of Jack Daniel's. Before he even noticed, he'd dialed the first three numbers. Suddenly, a voice inside his head cried out, the same voice that had been telling him all weekend that drinking would help more than Campral, that it wasn't abnormal, that she didn't know what she was talking about. He didn't need to share his problems, he didn't need any of their “holier-than-thou” shit. He tossed the phone to the side and took down the last of the dark liquid in the bottle. Somehow another bottle ended up in his hand, a bottlecap at his feet. His teeth hurt a little, he'd probably bitten it off.
Four bottles later, he was leaning back on the couch, a remote in hand, flipping through the same ten channels that their basic cable provided. Another crash, more shouting, this time not from the television; this time it was a woman screaming. He recognized the crash right away-he'd heard every kind of crash at least a dozen times since he'd moved in- as a TV hitting a lawn. Betty must be kicking Jake out for the fourth time this week.
Release Information: (This is for future reference, you must acquire these techniques in-game, same with the process of Espada evolution)
Basic information:
Zanpakuto Name: Huáng tiě kuàng
Weapon of Choice: Hand-to-hand
Appearance: See Other Information
Element: Earth
Spiritual Pressure Color: Deep Yellow
Other Information: Huáng tiě kuàng is sealed into the form of a length of wire, upon which Àiyǔ hangs the trophies from his hundreds of kills. This is kept in a pouch hanging from his waist, and is not used in combat.
Resurrección:
Resurrección Name: Huáng tiě kuàng
Descriptions: Huáng tiě kuàng is sealed into the form of a length of wire, upon which Àiyǔ hangs the trophies from his hundreds of kills. This is kept in a pouch hanging from his waist, and is not used in combat.
Release Command: "Shǎnyào"
Released Appearance:In released state, Àiyǔ takes a form extremely similar to that of his original hollow form. However, in his released state Àiyǔ is now wearing the clothing depicted in his hollow appearance.
Other Changes:
Techniques:
Name: Huáng tiě kuàng
State: Ressurection
Terms of usage: Huáng tiě kuàng is pretty much always active, as it is a passive ability.
Description: Using this technique, Àiyǔ is able to produce and control a metallic substance with a golden hue and luster to it. It is significantly stronger, however, being reinforced by his Reiatsu. He is able to produce up to twice his own body mass of this substance, before having to wait a significant amount of time before he can create the metal again.
Downside: The metallic substance can only exist for eight turns before turning black and disintegrating. After that occurs, Àiyǔ must wait another two turns before producing any more.
Name: Tānlán
State: Ressurection
Terms of usage: Tānlán is active as long as Huáng tiě kuàng has been created.
Description: Àiyǔ's reiatsu doesn't just strengthen the metal he creates, it also gives it an odd property. Much like gold to beggars, this substance captivates those with minimal intelligence or reiatsu. If a being of either looks upon the metal, they suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch the metal, and to stare at it. Should they have high enough Reiatsu, they can break the spell; but there will always be a lingering sensation in their back of their mind, tugging them toward it. This can be easily ignored, however.
Downside: Those with Reiatsu at par with or above Àiyǔ's own are completely unaffected. Also, if the trance is broken, they are immune to the effect until Àiyǔ's Ressurection has been sealed and released again.
Basic Information:
Character Name: Àiyǔ
Gender: Male
Age: 1,198
Residence: Hueco Mundo
Appearance:
Personality:
In a word, Àiyǔ is pious. He worships an older sect of gods, taught to him by the hollow before him; the very same that he devoured in a fit of hunger. These gods are known by humans as the Egyptian gods, though he never refers to them by name. He was taught them by titles "God of the Sun", "Judge of the Underworld", etc. He turned to these gods early in his after-life, because he discovered a painting of the god Anubis, a humanoid-jackal like himself. Being younger and newer to this monster thing, Àiyǔ needed solace. This faith, which worshiped monsters just like him, was exactly what he needed. It made him feel at home. The faith stuck with him, even after he accepted his monstrous nature.
Unlike some of his brethren, Àiyǔ has no issues with being a monster; he relishes it. While other hollows are seeking redemption, or at the very least a humanoid body, Àiyǔ scoffs. Why would he want to be any less than what he is? To strike fear into the heart of others, now that is what power does. The fact that he can't make it a day without something or someone running from him like a child-and often times it is a child- must mean that he is ridiculously powerful; and this is what keeps him walking.
Àiyǔ retains a little of his human nature, however. This manifests itself in the form of his massive greed. Like his time on earth, Àiyǔ spends a great multitude of his time hoarding valuables, money, and other such trophies. In fact, it's uncommon for him not to take something of value with him from every kill.
Being such a greedy person, he also becomes very easily attached to anyone that he views as being worthy of his time. These are rare people in his mind, and he tends to latch on to them; probably a sub-conscious way for making up for the company he never has. While he doesn't outwardly show this, he grows to have great respect for these people or hollows, and charges himself with protecting them. He doesn't often allow himself to see them, but he does thoroughly enjoy spending time with them.
Your Legacy:
Your Story:
- Àiyǔ lived in a very different time from the here and now. A little over a thousand years ago, he worked as a merchant in China. He was a ruthless vendor, who would squeeze a deal out of anyone, and didn't exactly deal in the cleanest merchandise. Mostly it consisted of the loot obtained from grave-robbing, murders, and loan-collections. He was a class-A scumbag who would steal from children, orphans, holy men, and anyone else with something shiny. He wasn't beyond getting his own hands dirty, either, and often partook in the dark deeds that made his business; especially earlier on in his enterprise when he couldn't afford to hire as many.. assistants.
- He lived a very long and successful life, albeit without much company. As with all unpopular figures, though, he would eventually meet his end; some would say not soon enough. One night, around his sixtieth year in the business-so his eightieth year of life- he would finally meet his end by the hands of those he had walked over his entire life. They formed a small mob, torches and pitchforks and the like, and stormed his manor. There they hung him up and beat him to death.
- Like most of the evil-hearted souls on the earth, Àiyǔ never stood a chance. From day one of his eternal after-life, he became less and less human. He would eventually turn into a hollow, without the help of any other hollows; the way most are formed. He wandered the deserts for what seemed like an eternity, destroying and devouring anything that crossed his paths; always smart enough to stay three steps ahead of anything bigger or stronger than him. Eventually, though, he would discover exactly how to get to the world of the living, where he could feed on something more to his taste.
- Somehow, the years blended together. It was all one mess of killings and trophies, which he would sew to a length of cloth he carried around his waist. Eventually, he would get tangled into the mass of spirits known as a Gillian. His personality, however, was driven by something more powerful than just pure Gluttony. His greed, and his need to be above others was what, in the end, won him over into the position of control. This triumph was only his first, next came the triumph over his fellow Gillian. As the years turned to decades, and decades to centuries, he began to take a new shape; one more akin to his true form. The massive trunk of his body shrunk, his armless mass breaking off into appendages. Eventually, he became a lean cross between a Jackal and a man...
- Life as an Adjuchas was a tough one, though; more so for those who hadn't a pack to run with. So, purely for self-preservation, Àiyǔ took on allies. He found himself running with a Pious crowd, which was something not very common amongst the bestial Hollows. Their leader was obsessed with a faith he learned of in his times on Earth, feeding thousands of years ago. They fed and worshiped as the leader dictated, but Àiyǔ took their faith to a whole new level. He took the shape of one of their gods, and to him that was a mark of entitlement. He would gradually, one by one, take each of his allies out when they hunted alone; each time coming up with a clever story. Every time, though, the pack treated the loss with a shrug. They never even asked. Finally, Àiyǔ was alone with his leader. They never took on other charges, because each time they tried they met their fates prematurely. Then, one fateful day, the leader fell to the avarice of Àiyǔ. And so, he wanders alone, seeking the next level of power to bring him closer and closer to the rank of God.
RP Sample:
[[I felt that using the entire sample would probably give whoever looks this over a little too much reading for their taste.. So this is just a clip from a post. Typically I don't post quite so long unless others are, but I could find few posts that really exemplify my style and quality that aren't this length; these are the posts I actually care about.]]
Aiden stared down at a piece of paper, crinkled and creased from being opened and folded at least a dozen times that day alone, maybe a hundred that week. Tears stained the paper around its edges, right next to the place where whiskey had stained it the first time around. He read over the neat, loopy little words written out on the page in blue ink. She never used black ink, she used to say it looked too harsh. God he wished she'd written it in black ink; he wanted the words to sound harsh. His eyes scanned the page once again, bloodshot not just from the tears. He read them out loud, wishing they'd finally make sense.
“This has to end, Aiden. I can't sit there and watch you kill yourself.” He stuttered, his voice gruff and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in a very long time. He set the piece of paper back down on the table set in front of him, amongst the empty bottles and old wrappers. There was a sound like breaking glass, and people shouting, but Aiden ignored it. He was living on his friend's couch until he could get a job, he'd learned quickly to ignore what went on outside. He reached into his pocket, removing a small plastic bottle. Time to take his Campral, maybe get some sleep tonight.
The first night all week that he slept soundly without having to take a drink, and it felt good. Aiden woke positive, hopeful about where his life would take him. Then, he looked to his left, dragging his gaze from the ceiling of the filthy little room and stared down the piece of paper, lying on top of an old granola bar box. Suddenly, his heart fell, and everything felt hopeless again. He reached toward a bottle, standing on the floor right in front of the couch that had become his home, wrapping shaky, bony fingers around the thin neck. He lifted the bottle to his lips as if it were water in a desert, taking three greedy gulps, then slowing to sips. The headache was starting to fade, he was shaking less. He felt normal; well, as normal as he possibly could.
He stared down at the sheet of paper. The bottom quarter was tilted up a little, and for the first time he noticed that something was printed on the back. He'd be so focused on the gentle abandonment on the front that he didn't even consider flipping it over. Now, he did; he read slowly through the small, black computer text, squinting to see it. It was a website, copy-pasted into a word document. The page had a lot of information about addictions. At the bottom of the page there was a list of numbers, one was highlighted. He read over the words slowly, the bright yellow hurting his eyes a little.
“Alcoholics Anonymous.” He read out loud, sounding a little confused. His free hand moved without his thinking, reaching for the phone resting against an empty bottle of Jack Daniel's. Before he even noticed, he'd dialed the first three numbers. Suddenly, a voice inside his head cried out, the same voice that had been telling him all weekend that drinking would help more than Campral, that it wasn't abnormal, that she didn't know what she was talking about. He didn't need to share his problems, he didn't need any of their “holier-than-thou” shit. He tossed the phone to the side and took down the last of the dark liquid in the bottle. Somehow another bottle ended up in his hand, a bottlecap at his feet. His teeth hurt a little, he'd probably bitten it off.
Four bottles later, he was leaning back on the couch, a remote in hand, flipping through the same ten channels that their basic cable provided. Another crash, more shouting, this time not from the television; this time it was a woman screaming. He recognized the crash right away-he'd heard every kind of crash at least a dozen times since he'd moved in- as a TV hitting a lawn. Betty must be kicking Jake out for the fourth time this week.
Release Information: (This is for future reference, you must acquire these techniques in-game, same with the process of Espada evolution)
Basic information:
Zanpakuto Name: Huáng tiě kuàng
Weapon of Choice: Hand-to-hand
Appearance: See Other Information
Element: Earth
Spiritual Pressure Color: Deep Yellow
Other Information: Huáng tiě kuàng is sealed into the form of a length of wire, upon which Àiyǔ hangs the trophies from his hundreds of kills. This is kept in a pouch hanging from his waist, and is not used in combat.
Resurrección:
Resurrección Name: Huáng tiě kuàng
Descriptions: Huáng tiě kuàng is sealed into the form of a length of wire, upon which Àiyǔ hangs the trophies from his hundreds of kills. This is kept in a pouch hanging from his waist, and is not used in combat.
Release Command: "Shǎnyào"
Released Appearance:In released state, Àiyǔ takes a form extremely similar to that of his original hollow form. However, in his released state Àiyǔ is now wearing the clothing depicted in his hollow appearance.
Other Changes:
Techniques:
Name: Huáng tiě kuàng
State: Ressurection
Terms of usage: Huáng tiě kuàng is pretty much always active, as it is a passive ability.
Description: Using this technique, Àiyǔ is able to produce and control a metallic substance with a golden hue and luster to it. It is significantly stronger, however, being reinforced by his Reiatsu. He is able to produce up to twice his own body mass of this substance, before having to wait a significant amount of time before he can create the metal again.
Downside: The metallic substance can only exist for eight turns before turning black and disintegrating. After that occurs, Àiyǔ must wait another two turns before producing any more.
Name: Tānlán
State: Ressurection
Terms of usage: Tānlán is active as long as Huáng tiě kuàng has been created.
Description: Àiyǔ's reiatsu doesn't just strengthen the metal he creates, it also gives it an odd property. Much like gold to beggars, this substance captivates those with minimal intelligence or reiatsu. If a being of either looks upon the metal, they suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch the metal, and to stare at it. Should they have high enough Reiatsu, they can break the spell; but there will always be a lingering sensation in their back of their mind, tugging them toward it. This can be easily ignored, however.
Downside: Those with Reiatsu at par with or above Àiyǔ's own are completely unaffected. Also, if the trance is broken, they are immune to the effect until Àiyǔ's Ressurection has been sealed and released again.
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