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|Subject Post 1Subject: Risako Yuudai [Finished] Sat Nov 02, 2013 8:28 pm|| |
» Name: Yuudai Risako
» Titles:The Inevitable Riot/ The Grey-Eyed Serpent
» Appearance Age: 24
» True Age: 557
» Gender: Female
Affiliation/Rank: The Vizard Corps- Spec Ops Colonel
» Appearance Description: Risako is a slender, short woman. She stands at a mere five feet and five inches, with long legs and an averaged sized torso. Her body is well built; she trained endlessly to obtain the runner's physique she now adorns proudly with various scars to prove such a fact. The female can be described as muscular, yet not overly done. Toned, slender, yet not thin or lanky. Often she is found with one hip cocked, hand settled onto the bone as if challenging someone. Always the lady, she keeps her posture modest when in skirts or dresses. When wearing pants though, she picks and chooses the right time to be intimidating, obnoxious (or perhaps it's because of her swirling amethyst riatsu smelling of spice..?). And her beauty aids in this.
Riot isn't a plain faced girl by any means- nor is she a woman who can be easily spotted in a crowd. With dark, chocolate skin, she finds herself drawing attention (usually unwanted) from those who are amused without effort. To add to her unique appearance, Riot's irises are colored storm-grey. These irises have the tendency to scare others due to the sharp, intense focus being presented from each one. Trailing behind the woman is a flowing river of soft curls of ebony hair. When on duty or fighting, the hair is pulled into one single, neat ponytail then braided down. Occasionally, Riot will tend to unwind the flowing river, brushing it accordingly if she feels it necessary. Her chin curves down, rounding just slightly past her ears to meet below her lips to create her gentle curve of chin. Aesthetically, her face holds high cheek bones, along with eyes that are shaped a bit like almonds (most seem to think that she has Asian ancestry in her blood).
Now for the apparel. Riot is not the type of woman to stress over what to wear to the store or how she may appear in front of another being of the opposite gender, nor the same one. As her motto goes, 'if it fits, wear it'. This isn't to say that there isn't a trend to what the vizard wears. Jackets (leather, cotton, hoodies, etc.), tank tops (form-fitting), and pants (either cargo, combat, or form-fitting). And what will never change is Riot's black, Breckelles lace-up vintage, knee-high combat boots- no matter the outfit, weather, or situation. Currently it adorns few tears of past fights.
Lastly is the traditional Yuudai family tribal tattoos. These tattoos are done in a navy blue ink and cover her entire back, right shin, entire right arm and the right side of her chest ending at the middle of her right thigh. All members of the Yuudai family (which includes her father and three older brothers) adorn these tattoos with great pride. It symbolizes that they fight both under and for the Yuudai name; to uphold great spirit, to achieve success even at the cost of yourself and never dishonor one's name. So long as Riot lives, the tattoos are a permanent symbol she has no intention of ever removing.
» Appearance Picture:
» Personality: Riot, on good days, is rather... argumentative, unsocial, stoic, prideful. The list does go on. In other words, she is a hailstorm of uncontrollable emotion that changes within seconds. Riot's presence gives others the feeling of comfort. Though her quiet, speculating gazes tend to be intimidating. At worse, it will alarm people; it makes them second guess that comforting aura, the smell of summer spice radiating from the female. Yes, her actions, her scents, her presence. Each of these traits of Riot's contradict against one another.
For a woman, she's incredibly manly. Manly in the sense that she doesn't care for drama or gossip. No, don't tell her about who's hooking up with who. Why? Because she doesn't give a damn- she'd rather beat someone to a bloody pulp. Riot, ever since she was little, had taken the seat of the all of the boy's best friend. When the boys dug through the mud, she dug through the mud. The boy's decided to fight the rabid animals, so she held them down, bearing each swipe. By no means is Riot sexist, simply, she prefers the uncaring company of men to that of the prodding nature of women. Perhaps this has to do with never being under the guidance of another female before.
At crucial times, during battles most likely, Riot is viewed as relentless and persistent until her enemy is dead. Fighting happens to be her favorite pass time. There is not a single day that passes by without her going out to perfect some tactic or method. Combat brings out the worse side of Riot. During battle, her lips are permanently sealed tight. Each slash of her Zanpakutō meant to the killing strike. Not many tend to spar with the woman; she takes her sessions seriously which may or may not result in the injury of her spar partner. Likewise, it's not surprising for Riot to have an endless dislike for people who give up. Once she sets her goals, she will cut down anyone or anything to finish them.
Now, it isn't that Riot doesn't care for her comrades or family. Expressing certain emotions proves to be rather difficult for her. Those who aren't familiar with Yuudai view her as cold and bitter, when in truth she looks out for those under her wing. Let it never be said that she wouldn't stand in for her kin to bear the pain. Through and through, she's loyal and bitterly honest. Her revolting is about as likely as the government giving back to the people; it's never going to happen.
» Zanpakutō Name: Tetsu Kafusubotan (Iron cufflink)
» Zanpakutō Spirit Appearance:
Kafu is fairly tall, young, aesthetically pleasing in appearance. Kafu measures in at about seven feet, easily towering over the short stature of his weilder. His face is the color of Italian bread with tufts of gentle wheat colored hair give him the well-known Austrian boy look. Narrowed, glass-stain colored eyes turn Kafu from attractive and secretive male to moody, scolding lion. His physique is incredibly muscular though not overly done- much like his weilder.
When greeting Riot, Kafu dresses professional, as if attending crucial business meetings. The royal violet coat sits over his shoulders and the coal-colored suit underneath. Beneath his suit jacket shines the vibrant baby pink long sleeve accompanied by the standard black tie. Kafu wears clean dress shoes that are barely scuffed on the toe. In his left hand he twirls a pair of silver, metal handcuffs, the word 'restraint' carved onto each metal bracelet. If it so happens that something occurs where Kafu is harmed/damaged, he will appear to Riot with pieces of his attire missing. Or, if the matter at hand is truly alarming, then the Zanpakutō spirit shall appear in slacks, tie, and dress shirt/shoes. As always, he keeps the pair of handcuffs twirling around his fingers.
» Zanpakutō Spirit Personality: Tetsu Kafusubotan, of Kafu as Riot calls him, takes on the role of the formal guardian figure. Each time he speaks to Riot he addresses her by first and surname. He rarely ever smiles, rarely shows any sort of facial expression beyond an irritated scowl. Kafu tolerates Riot, though it's clear through their interactions that the relationship is odd. Different from what other shinigami develop with their Zanpakutō's spirit.
Kafusubotan's fond of referring to Riot and his interactions as 'more of dictatorship than monarchy'. Kafu can be incredibly demanding at times, going so far as to question Riot's tactics. Despite being the chain to keep the darkest of secrets locked away, he will not hold his tongue should he feel that things aren't carried out correctly. Kafu's every bit the loud mouth, interferring with Riot's concentration by berating her skills on the field. Kafu's blunt nature and big mouth often leads to the forceful aggression Riot is known to display.
Despite what the zanpkuto spirit says, his general nature is viewed in a protective sense. Riot has difficulty understanding Kafu's manner of speaking or his actions due to the fact that he speaks in riddles to keep his reasonings hidden. He tends to never answer questions. Regardless, Kafu maintains the role of an older brother or watchful father and feels it's crucial to address his wielder in times that her emotions are running high. He works just as hard as Riot does in order to achieve the unbreakable restraint they seek.
» Inner World:
Riot's inner world resembles that of an ordinary run-down prison. As ordinary as run-down prisons come. It frequently rains, rusting the damaged cars outside of the main complex. Strung about the walls are two lines of taught barbwire, threaded through hooks to keep Riot inside. Or so she believes. Inside the main complex sits hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of prison cells. All of these cells are built along the rectangular shape of the building, each wall meeting to create sharp vertexes.
The rectangular shape is large in length, thick in width. At the center of the buidling lies an empty, vacant space. Except for a pair of cell keys and single mess table with two benches on each side. Riot typically takes these keys to go unlock Kafu's cell, in the fartherst corner of the second floor. On the far side of the prison is solitary confinement, where her inner hollow resides, chained to the floor, ceiling, and walls. She takes the time to go and greet the male, but they rarely ever speak. Simply stare at the other until one shifts or Kafu enters to whisk Riot away from her inner demon.
Grey and black is the running theme at the prison. Nothing ever changes unless Riot's inner hollow breaks free of his confinement. Were this to happen, the prison would become a living, breathing hell. Instead of the constant patter of rain, lightning would constantly strike as thunder rolled through. All gates would be closed, locked shut until the hollow returns to its confinement. Metal rusts at a rapid pace, cell doors rattle continuously. The prison would seem to constrict and stretch, like lungs contracting when taking in oxygen or inhaling deeply.
Sealed Zanpakutō Appearance:
» Release Phrase: Shōdō o osaeru, tetsu kafusubotan (restrain the urge, iron cufflink)
» Shikai Appearance:
- Sword Appearance:
» Shikai Abilities:
Tetsu Kafusubotan extends into a seventy foot long broad metal chain made of torus-shaped links, each end connected to spiked handles. Riot can shorten the length should she choose to do so. However, it cannot extend beyond the maximum length; doing so would harm/damage Tetsu Kafusubotan. This technique is most effect in close combat simply because it connects with targets and begins to wound tightly around them, rendering said targets useless. Should one get caught in the chains of Kakuhosuru, the chain will feel like a tremendous weight (almost unbearable) has descended upon the victim. If the victim is someone possessing a truly weak state of mind and lacks confidence, then the Kakuhosuru will be extremely difficult to remove. If said victim possesses great strength, then the Kakuhosuru could removed without much difficulty and the feeling of that heavy weight will dissipate at once. All in all, Kakuhosuru does possess a minor sort of psychological strategic attack.
The Rokku technique works in ways to that of the kido spell 'sai'. Rokku is a subform of Kakuhosuru; the seventy foot length chain retracts to no more than ten feet around the victim, constricting and tightening until the victim can barely move. Should the victim continue to struggle, one by one each link of the chain would start to glow a bright lavender. As each link glows, the metal absorbs the victim's spiritual energy to secure a lock and keep them confined. This technique is extremely useful in restraining rather than eliminating targets. To break through Rokku takes careful consideration and a well-placed, well-timed direct attack strong enough to break the victim's spiritual energy. Rokku is an effective strategy mainly used for the beasts of beasts; the opponents who rely on brute strength instead of brains.
*Hakyū kōka (Ripple effect)
This technique proves to be the most powerful in Kafu's shikai state. Riot snaps the two chain-links twice, much like one would with a whip. Next she proceeds to tilt the handles downward. The chain-links are then jointed by a pale violet glow. As they join together, Riot lifts her hands in the air, and once again snaps the chain. Some of her reiatsu pours into Tetsu causing the ground shake and break apart when the chain-links hit it. Also, there is a small flash or release of energy that bounces off of the links in sporatic, minute bursts. These bursts can sting if they were make contact with bare skin, however, other than that the damage is incredibly minor.
» Bankai Appearance:
[Following changes: hair color shifts to silver white hue, iris color changes to a pale lavender hue. Maintains outfit gained in shikai. Hair is wrappped in tarp seen above.]
- Sword Appearance:
» Bankai Abilities:
Upon entering the state of bankai, Kakuhosuru breaks apart from the hilt of the sword, shortens considerably (to about four feet) and wraps loosely around Riot's waist. Next, a blade forms at the hilt, curving at various angles, transcending into an extremely unique design with only deep violet (see the shaded, black portion above) and bright silver being the two colors. The 'Restrained' attack provides defense for Riot. In this technique she's able to raise a barrier at any spot no farther/shorter than four feet from her position. The more spiritual pressure poured into the barriers, the harder it is to shatter them. She can extend her spiritual pressure to create serveral barriers at once, but the durability of said barriers would be weak considering the amount. Barrier dimensions: width (2cm), length (66in- Riot's height).
At the call of this technique, Kafusubotan begins to glow immensely. A fleeting image of a broken Chain of Fate appears behind Riot and her spiritual pressure will pulse in a steady beat; as if to work like a beacon. In order for this technique to work properly, Riot must come into direct contact with her target. She then proceeds to cut each of the target's arms (*Note: these cuts are not huge or life threatening, simply, they're long and sting. But in no way are they going to start gushing blood). Next she moves behind the target and raises Kafusubotan as if to strike them on the head. Instead, the chain around her waist glows and the target finds themselves trapped between four, thin barriers, leaving their head exposed. Riot's spiritual pressure will suddenly flare as she drives her sword forward- through the abdomen of the trapped target.
*Shōgeki keisū (Shock factor)
Without a doubt, this is Riot's most exhausting and favorite bankai technique. This technique is unique in the sense that as she performs it, Kafusubotan appears (only to her eye, of course) and takes hold her hands on the blade. Riot then channels her reiatsu to Kafu who then channels it into the sword. After a delay of some seconds, the sword glimmers, hissing like a cannon charging. Riot and Kafusubotan take aim of the target and fires, releasing the reiatsu trapped within like a magnetic pulse. This very well can severely burn, if not disintegrate, a weak-armored opponent.
» Inner Hollow Description:
» Inner Hollow Personality: Proeza or 'Prowess' is just as his name states; an audacious beast built for victory and born to conquer. He resembles Tetsu in not only appearance but the trait of endless passion. So much so that the first time Riot encountered Prowess, she was overwhelmed with his relentless nature and at times, still is. He dislikes the thought of having to retreat from battle or being taken by surprise. Despite knowing this piece of information better than anyone, Riot makes a habit of performing without warning. For example, suddenly pouring large amounts of spiritual energy into one attack.
Though it seems odd for an inner hollow to take concern in the shinigami they reside within, 'concern' is not what Prowess has for Riot. Prowess plays many roles including mentor and student. Tetsu has shown Prowess the capabilities Riot possesses and how he could add to those capabilities to become powerful. Not in the sense of completely controlling the vizard, but instead providing what she needs to rise to top power. Although and independent hollow, Prowess isn't blind to reason nor compromise. Do not be mistakened; companionship could never forge because of Prowess's maniac ideals.
He believes that if you need to kill the innocent to become stronger, then by all meams take that road or passgeway. But Riot would rather avoid the lives of innocents shinigami and humans alike. This continuously angers Prowess. He repeatedly flares his uncontrollable anger during battle if Riot does something he feels is preventing them from their power surge. He's constantly lurking in the dark, quietly praising the vizard yet challenging her on every move she makes or every decision she's made. Prowess serves as her reflection in some ways, reminding her of past mistakes, reminding her what would happen to her if she was to succumb to the blind power she cautions.
» Inner Hollow Powers:
A powerful blast of concentrated spiritual energy fired from either palm of the hand, one at a time. These ceros are of a pale vermilion hue.
Portals used by Hollows and Arrancar to travel from world to world. Such as Hueco Mundo to the Living Realm.
A defensive technique using condensed reiryoku to form a sort of 'steel-skin', strong enough to block Zanpakutos.
A radiating pulse sent out that reacts to the sources of Reiatsu and allows determination of the location of any sensed individuals and the gauging of how powerful these individuals are.
High speed movement performed by Arrancar. The equivalent to shunpo.
» Hollow Mask Appearance:
» Vizard Powers:
Since the first time she willingly called on her inner hollow, Riot has trained in exclusively in gaining a better control over him. Two centuries of consistant training has not granted her the knowledge of every move, but she's processed a great deal. Because of her passion for improving, she's been able to gain a minimal boost in strength when she dawns her mask.
A gain in speed to a sly fox; she's found that she can tap into her inner hollow's speed, adding to her own. This trick was learned from previous training sessions with Prowess. Although she doesn't have full control over the sonido, she can access the ability by using a certain percentage of it each time.
Wounds can be ignored during the time period of wearing the hollow mask. After the time limit, however, pain hits her like a freight train. Along with her strength came her mask protection through passion for advancement. Her mask protection lasts only as long as it itself does; once ot breaks away, or is taken off, any wounds sustained will immidiately begin to take a toll on her body.
Having dual spiritual pressure, both Hollow and Shinigami, is an asset to the Vizard. Her spiritual pressure is heightened significantly during the duration of time she wears her mask. Riot's spiritual pressure radiates a more hollow presence than shinigami with its heavy weight. The more power she channels from Prowess, the heavier this pressure becomes.
» Resurrección Appearance:
» Resurrección Abilities: UNOBTAINED
When I Was A Young Girl...
Her name had been Jane Stuart. Female. Dark skin. A trait not favored in these times. She was born into slavery, into a family whose traditional values lived off of that kind of lifestyle. Growing up tending the cotton and corn fields taught the child the significance of self-discipline as a farmer. It had been terribly tempting to pick an orange and lay under the shade as her mother moved through the fields. But she knew better; although Jane couldn't read and write, she had morals. Selfish behavior threatened everyone out there, not just she and her mother. There wasn't much to do besides aid her mother and father in their daily duties.
The head of the family, Johnathan Stuart, could be lenient to workers on occassion, but stern all the same. His own son, Charles, born on the same day as Jane, took interest in speaking to the slaves on the property, John gave no objections. "So long as you do not interrupt the work," he growled to his eight year old boy whom beamed and bounded into the corn. The wheat-haired boy continued running spotting several adults in the fields but no children. He frowned, then decided to run in a large circle through the corn.
Charles nearly failed to see the girl in his path humming as she carried a basket full of corn. He stopped immediately, softly whistling into his hand. She halted in her tracks as well, carefully turning around to meet large brown eyes. Charles shifted onto his left foot, his face breaking his most charming smile.
"I'm Charlie. What's your name?"
Again, no response. Charlie began to think the girk was death until her drifted over to the chirping grasshopper settled inside her basket. Momentarily dazed, her eyes drifted back up to Charlie's face, expression unreadable. "Jane," she murmured before running off to find her mother. Charlie stood there for awhile; she didn't look like a 'Jane' at all. Maybe a West, like the character in his books. Yeah, that suited her! Silent and mysterious yet quicker than horse.
Following this day, the children grew to know each other. Charlie oftened initiated conversion as Jane tended to her work. When her mother died, he silently handed her his hankerchief. She stuttered and insisted that she couldn't but when he grunted in defiance she lost her wil to argue. They blossomed from young teens to proud, young adults. It had been a fairytale, exactly like the ones Charlie read to her from his books.
It'd been perfect until...
Until Charlie was suddenly found shot dead. Until his cruel cousin moved over to take control of the fields. To torture everyone who lived there; even Charlie's sister, Sarah. Soon enough, slaves on the fields began to disappear a handful at a time to be replaced by new ones. Jane felt dazed in these sudden changes. Too much was happening too fast. Her father suddenly ceased to exist.
And when she thought matters couldn't become worse, she disappeared too. Underground, underneath the house in a cramped, wet basement. Her arms were pinned between her ankles, neck chained to the wall. She spent the rest of her days like that. No food or water. Darkness surrounded her.
The last thought she had, her last sight as she starved to death, was of Charlie's cousin- how she hated the fact that he could have been Charlie's brother. With that wheat-colored hair and large chocolate orbs.
..Those sinister chocolate orbs..
The Family of Heroes
The year 1857 brought forth several wonderful gifts for Lord Yuudai; the position of head-master at Shino Academy, the return of his brother from his year long mission, and his wife birthed twins. One boy and one girl. The boy he named Arashi and the girl, Risako. He felt the familiar constricting of his chest as he held his youngest children in his arms. The Lord knew that they would make him just as proud as their brothers.
He truly did not know the truth of his words.
Several months afterwards, Lady Yuudai became heavily ill and died shortly there after. Depressed and left with four young children to raise, the Lord called on his brother to aid in raising his children. Between the Shino Academy and family affairs, the Lord had barely any time to spend time with his children. He found this sacrifice necessary in order to provide for the family. And, perhaps, to also find the time to grieve his wife alone. Uncle Ryu could understand though; he'd lost his wife as well.
Time stretched in the Yuudai Estate, children grew, adults aged, and maids bickered at yet another spilling of ink on the floor as giggles flew down the corridor. Ryu laid down the law; he'd have to find something for them do other than terrorize young women. The next morning, he dragged each child out of the house and toward the training gardens. Ryu's brother protested against training them to use their above average spiritual pressure. All to no avail. If Ryu didn't something now, they'd destory the entire mansion later.
Each child stood before in various stances, various ages. Kazuo, 40, fumbling with the hem of his hakama. Sora, 37, twirling and singing at the top of his lungs. Arashi, 35 (the eldest twin by a minute), grey eyes wide at the sight of a butterfly landing on his nose. And lastly, his only niece, Sako-san; 35 and quite grumpy with the fact that she'd been awoken so early. Ryu gauged each and every child. He was an honored seated member of the fifth division. How hard could it be to train these four brats?
~*/(60 Years Later)\*~
He accomplished his goal. It took a lot out of him, and he was fairly certain he would drop dead at any moment now, but he raised the Yuudai heirs to fight beautifully. They knew the basics to kido, were advanced in Zanjutsu and could recite every law under the Soul Society. Ryu coughed to cover the sudden tears pricking at his eyes as he watched the four approach the door. Kai nearly blew a vein when he heard from little Ri-chan that she planned on entering the Academy as a prodigy. Her brothers stepped in as well, both supporting and expressing similar ideas of her opinion.
Ryu sighed softly, waving as they turned to give their last goodbye. Ri-chan unexpectedly ran towards him, tackling him to the ground with her forceful hug. "We luff ya' uncle Ru," she muffled through his shirt. He weeped manly tears and insisted she go before her brothers left without her. The young girl bounded off, headed for her destiny.
~*/(Four Years Later)\*~
Risako Yuudai grinned mischeviously as she bowed before father. Behind her, in the midst of the crowd, he could hear her brothers snickering and uncle sniffling. She surpassed Shino Academy in four years. Four years! The Zanpakutō at her hip moved barely a centimeter, but she knew that he was just as ecstatic as she had to be. 'Tetsu Kafusubotan,' her mind whispered. In response he grunted then remained quiet for the remainder of the graduates ceremony. Cheers flew through the air as the ceremony drew to a close.
Risako wandered through the halls, finding her father whispering to Ryu in hushed tones. She approached them, grin broad, arrogant.
Her grey eyes met with her father's as he placed a solemn hand on her head. "I'm proud of you, Ri-chan."
Risako laughed in glee, immediately gluing to the Lord's torso.
~*/(5 Years Later)\*~
The young Yuudai girl stood before the Captain of the Second Division, on one knee, head bowed and eyes closed. Her heart pattered as the Captain looked down upon her. Kafu scolded her for the unnecessary anxiety. It had woken him from a good nap, he claimed, and he actually thought something was wrong. Risako exhaled softly and rose from her stance on the ground.
Ridiculous. To act like some humbly child. If she could gain her shikai faster than the spoiled Nobles then she could face her Captain.
A simple bow would do, right? It wasn't like she was face to face with Kuchiki. She frowned, staring her Captain down-
Wait. What was with that expression on her face..? "Uh.. Soi Fon-taichou?"
Her eyes were getting bigger by the milisecond. Just what the hell was going on? Risako turned to looked behind her and sure enough, nothing was there. She turned back to her Captain who looked a bit more natural now with her blank expression.
"Welcome to the Second Division, Yuudai-san. You will start at the 20th seat and work your way upwards. We will have training sessions at five in the morning sharp. And steer clear of that obnoxious cow." Risako blinked at the Lieutenant poorly hiding behind a curtain.
Well. She definitely liked this one.
Training Season is Every Season
Risako spent the next 50 years with countless training, eventually being able to rise to the fifteenth seat, then the eleventh. As instructed by her Captain, her mornings were spent training vigirously; mowing down dummies and occassionally calling on her squadmates for spar sessions. With the collboration of others she learned new skills and grew stronger in Zanjutsu as well as her Shunpo. Her bankai was obtained during a particularly gruesome fight initiated by Hollows. It left two of of the seated members dead and her body had not been spared from the horrific scar spiraling down her right arm. Impressed by her sudden advanced, she had been moved another five tiers- sixth seat by her Captain.
Eventually, when the twenty-first century rolled around, several changes had been performed. For starters, after discovering her bankai, her father granted her the family tattoos and title as part of the tradition. As the ninth seat, she stood as a role model to not only the rest of her division but the others in the Gotei 13 also. When her Captain and Lieutenant to stop that traitorous bastard, Aizen with the third and fourth seats heavily injured and the others unsure of how to go about running everything... she took on the leadership.
Riot took care of her division, making sure everything ran smoothly. No man went unnoticed or left without an arm to lean on.
The Virus, She Sickens Us All..
Aizen's Empire came crumbling down- or so everyone hoped. New Corporations and Groups rose from the ashes, offering a sense of stability to those whom joined them. Some were evil and some were just. Truly, Riot couldn't care less; she thought it'd be easier if the Soul Society overtake these new groups. The less mortals involved the better. Following the next several decades, Riot had been sent on a mission with a small group of men. A covert-op, they said. Simple enough, since she'd done hundreds of these types of missions already. The mission led to Hueco Mundo, however.
A treat in itself.
They were to collect any and all evidence left of Aizen's projects for the twelfth division to accurately analyze; see what else Aizen had been up to. She wasn't an idiot; her new Captain wanted the building blown up because of her paranoia and the head of the science department wanted another play-doll.. thing. Point was, this was not authorized. And she had a suspicious feeling that most them were to die in the wasteland. The trip proved to be easy enough, but the Menos and the constant appearance of hollows were taking a toll on the team.
They had divised a plan to keep moving through the forest, but to lower their Reiatsu. One half of the team would sleep as the other watched or enemies and vice-versa. Somewhere along the journey, each of the feel ill, coughing up blood and groaning about the sudden agony of the pain coursing through them. Riot knew they couldn't carry on like this. She'd been the last one to fall ill when she initiated a retreat. It took hours for the team to go back to where they first arrived. Several collapsed, panicking Riot. She quickly scooped up her right hand, throwing his midget frame over her shoulder.
The return to the Soul Society gave them cold stares and twitching expressions as greetings.
Whoever wrote the paperwork covered up the operation with a 'sudden spooky hollow business, blah blah'. Riot just about ripped her own throat out. Here she was, quarantined in her own home while these bastards were running around trying to cover her hides. What about the others? Her men? Were they just going to be covered as well? As if none of this had occurred?
Months past; the illness clung to her. Persistent and smothering. Every now and then members of the fourth division dropped in to give updates on her team and the rest of the Gotei. Riot's health turned from 'a passing bug' to 'the end of her existence.' Nightmares ran rampant; they were too realistic, the struggling final, her death a permanent end.
Spring rolled through, setting a vision of purity throughout the Sereitei. Riot's condition plummeted. She was on the edge. Sleep mocked her constantly. Food carried no sugar or spice. As the minutes ticked by, she fell into the embrace of slumber mucb to her hovering brother's relief. Just as soon as she closed her eyes, her body convulsed. The eldest, Kazuo, entered in a hurry flanked by the other two siblings.
Her body convulsed again before tearing slightly at the torso. Much like if she were stabbed. Her brothers were frozen in tracks as the marrow consumed her body. An eerily familiar screwm tore the air, shattering it. The beast stood, crossing the room to take Riot's Zanpakutō from the wall.
Kazuo growled under his breath. He'd heard of the rumors of how those Captains and Lieutenants were exiled. Hell, when people came back from the fight with Aizen he actually started to believe them. Riot wasn't the kind to go power-hungry. She wouldn't do this to herself!
The beast turned to stare at the dumbfounded. Kazuo ordered Arashi to go to Internal Affairs. Sora stepped up, sword on his back. He hesitated until Kazuo snapped his head and hissed for him to get ready to block.
Each brother stood their stance as the Hollowfied monstrosity reared its vicious head, darting forward to attack.
~*/(Inside Riot's Inner World)\*~
"The fuck?! Since when are creeps supposed to live in my head?!"
Said 'creep' tilted his head to the side in curiousity. Three-fourths of his face covered by a shattered by a gas mask. Her eyes narrowed as she peered at the newcomer. His resemblance to Kafu did more than just surprise her. She knew better. Kafu never could or ever would radiate Hollow spiritual pressure.
Riot raised her sword in challenge. The hollow cackled, happily obliging as he spun towards her. The battle raged, uproared, quited to a hush then growled and snarled once more. Prowess cleary had the upper hand and Riot found no way to defeat. At least, not until he backed her into one corner, cackling obnoxiously. Her eyes closed, blood dripping down her neck, steadily pouring from her. Exhaustion whimpered only for her to ignore it. If this didn't work, she'd have to resort to high-powered rifles. She called on Kafu for the bankai, and as she did so, he whispered a phrase to her.
Unfamiliar, and odd of to him say at that moment. He rolled his eyes and took hold of the sword too. Together the blinded him using a kido spell. The lightbulb went on then. Riot shunpoed behind the Hollow, using her Imprisond technique. She choose to stab where it wouldn't kill but keep him talkimg.
It took sixty minutes, but she'd won.
Pieces of shattered roof dropped into the garden. The Yuudai Estate stood, but most of it lay damaged. Kazuo panted heavily, glancing at the sixth division Captain. Riot suddenly halted in her attacks, froze on the dime. Sora stared in awe as the bone marrow broke into millions of minute pieces and fluttered off in the wind. The last piece of left was the mask- the horrendous gas mask sitting over their sister's face. Riot panted heavily, letting her sword slip from her fingers. The sixth Captain rambled off about how the virus had infected the others...a matter of time... Lies.
Stupid, stupid lies.
She tore the mask from her face and watched it fade away. Then she turned on her heel and began packing. This was too much. She needed to leave- she needed to get out of here.
High Society of Masked Men
Years trickled away a bit at a time. Riot fled the Soul Society, withdrew her position as Lieutenant of the Second Division and moved into the Living Realm. In her mind, there was only one organization that could help her cope with the beast living inside her. The Vizard Corps accepted her with open arms. She joined the ranks, starting as a runt, just as she had a hundred years ago. The training there took a hell of a lot longer than Kafusubotan. However, that may have been due to the fact that he cooperates if pestered enough. The Hollow.. thing, just wanted her to cease to exist. Take over her body and reign terror over the city.
Years turned to decades turned to centuries. Yuudai had been drifting in the Corps until she decided to take a leap of faith and submit for the Spec-Ops division. Her training continued as her rank in status rose. Several of her comrades either came to respect her or fear her. Prowess, as she learned in a particular dealing with her inner hollow, toned down the constant pestering. Three centuries of progress earned her the title of Colonel, a ranking she proudly wears.
- Durability: . . .
- General Speed: . . .
- Strength: . . .
- Weapon Skill: . . .
- Hoho: . . .
- Kidō: . . .
- Zanjutsu: . . .
- Hakuda: . . .
» Role Play Sample:
((This sample is a previous roleplay I participated in with my daemom assassin Primrose and two other friends. Below is an excerpt written by myself.))
Oh, winter breath, how you bestow such an icy, moon glare upon this night. This night, in which the daemoness assassin prowls through the darkened streets glowing under the occasional shivering lamp post. Her physique is slim, though well built; it's clear to the naked eye that what lays beneath her heavy trench coat, her skin-tight leather pants, is sheer strength. There will be no room for squealing feminine attitude as she approaches the gleaming silver tower ascending to the clouds. The primal urge stirs, ready to sink sharp teeth into her victim. On the top the floor, seventy-eighth. From the ground, the lawyers corporation building and Primrose resembles to that of Jack and the Beanstalk. An overgrown challenge, teeming with several possibilities.
She worries not. An egotistical smile spreading across her face is proof of her confident prowess.
And she never fails a job. Never leaves a trail.
After all; Primrose West is the country's most elite assassin. Self-proclaimed, of course.
Her combat boots swivel on the bleak pavement, directing her down an alleyway before the guards posted in front of the entrance can spot her lithe form. Prim moistens her lips as she climbs the marked fire escape on her cellphone, making it to the top of the coffee shop in seconds. Tingling warmth dances on her nerves. The prey... So close now, all she had to do was get inside. The daemoness pouts as she eyes the window that's supposed to be her ticket inside. "Ugh, come on, Chucho," she sighs, crossing her arms as the wind begins to pick up, lashing out at her coat.
As if on cue (no, wait, he probably is acting on cue), the mixed mutt manages to pull open the window with some taught, black rope. 'Just like I taught him when he was a wee pup,' Prim reflected, shifting from blood crazed murderer to proud mother in mere milliseconds. She pulled the grappling hook that was settled on her hip underneath the coat and shot it out, grinning as it hooks onto the open window's ledge. The woman's grin spread further as she zipped inside the building, landing beside her faithful dog in the abandoned building. Excluding her, Chucho, her target, and about forty guards standing her way.
West huffed as said filed onto the level, barrels focused in on the daemoness, shouting demands. Her fingers curled, bending to scratch Chucho behind the ear. "Darlin', vid not tell Mummy about ve guards." Chucho glanced up at the 6'2 female, barking once. Short and sweet. Lips broke apart, displaying two rows of pointed pearly whites. The Russian accent was clear to the men now, without the wind distorting her words.
"Da, vet's kill these bastards."
Glasses clinked together, merry singing breaking out in random groups around the bar. Primrose laughed, critiquing some men on their voices whole joining in with others. Her black pink hair made her stand out at the run-down bar, bringing on that rebellious nature of hers. She seemed to infect people with her 'fuck authority' mood as she gladly payed for another round of drinks. Her round, green-blue eyes were similar to the ocean with their endless depths, swallowing one whole and dragging them down until there struggling limbs
Perky, rose lips sat under her pointed nose, accenting her high cheek bones, her heart shaped face. She really did the possess the body of a well-trained runner. A fact better supported by the slim-fit jeans hugging her hips, the tight turtle neck running over her flat stomach and average-sized chest. The glossy, ebony stilettos, clacking against the tile as she bounced her foot impatiently. Feb, her appointed bartender for the night, placed her long island tea on the counter, waiting for her to turn around.
Without moving, Primrose snapped her fingers at Feb. "No. Russian vodka, yeah? Is my accent too vick? Vid I not make myself clear?" Her head snapped around to stare at the tender. The dark expression on her face contradicted her soft spoken words to an extreme. Feb stammered back immediately, slamming into the bottles behind, sending several flying to the ground. Prim turned her attention elsewhere as the idiot vanished into the back door to retrieve her desired drink.
"Pft. Bastards. All of you!" The last sentence she directed to the males in the bar who laughed and cheered, alcohol sloshing around, tipping out of now empty cups. The female smiled, crossing one shapely leg over the other as she examined her momentary rein over these dazed males. One would be able to help end in her quest in finding a good romp for the night.
'Maybe not; too many pigs,' her conscience sneered, eyes narrowing at the sight of two men engaging in a fight, fists flying, shirts tearing. Oi. All she asked for is some decent class. Clever! Just this once?
Last edited by Riot on Fri Feb 07, 2014 12:57 pm; edited 35 times in total