- BladeThe Hybrid King
- Joined : 2011-06-06
Posts : 2611
Age : 26
Mon Aug 21, 2023 6:35 pm
○ Name: Theodore Müller
○ Alias': The Marked Man
○ Age: 323
○ Gender: Male
○ Race: Vizard
○ Affiliation: N/A
○ Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
○ Marital Status: Single
○ Nationality: German
○ Religious Standing: None
○ Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
○ Height: 6'4"
○ Weight: 235 lbs
○ Hair Color: Deep Blue With Silver Highlights
○ Eye Color: Baby Blue
One late spring night, a noble German couple had brought what they believed to be a curse into this world. A curse that, unlike their first, stillborn child, would be left to haunt them until their final days. That curse, despite being just that, a curse, went by the name of Theodore, Theodore Müller.
Born to his mother, Charlotte, and father, Fredrick I, Theo was what you would expect from any healthy child in the very early 1800's. Raised on the premise of their family estate, the boy spent his early childhood in what would now be known as modern day Stuttgart, Germany, his mother and father ruling over an area that went by Württemberg.
Though given all he could ever want, Theo's childhood consisted of most things children would consider to be a problem. Mistreatment, abuse and rampant punishment were common throughout his days and, despite his best efforts, nothing seemed to alter the motives his parents held. He held attitude when spoken to due to this treatment. Many of his peers, the little that knew of his existence at least, knew what type of problems came with this child. Most assumed his parents treated him this way due to his sister's stillborn nature, others thought it was simply in their character to react so poorly to a child that struggled to fit in. No matter the reason, it held little to no importance to Theo. To Theo, he was the family dog. A pet of sorts, something to be tossed around and toyed with until they tired of it. Theo was simply nothing.
It was a struggle, living the life of a noble that was granted little to no name or rank. Many of his formative years being spent learning the modern age of mathematics and literature, something many kids were known for at the time. Though he never was allowed to spend time with the other children of the nearby homes, Theo never struggled with adapting to whatever came his way. Smart, bright almost, the boy would have been a force to reckon with if he was given the proper upbringing those around him had. Nevertheless, this secluded study continued until one faithful night, nearly a month after his fifteenth birthday.
Even though he had been the best child he could to this point, even with short bouts of attitude, Charlotte and King Fredrick I had had enough. The curse that was Theodore Müller was nothing but a reminder of the daughter they had originally lost. Not just that, but the very thought of the boy usurping his father left the couple in a twisted tale of confusion and worry. As such, Theo was cast aside, being left nothing to his name. A lack of possessions, a lack of a home, a world to live in was something that frankly, Theo could never had wrapped his head around now. After all, the very parents they gave birth to him left him stranded, hoping for a better place in this world.
Soon after his expulsion from the family manor, Theo had taken up work as what was known as a Leibeigene, a serf of sorts. He filtered his way through fields day and night on the property of his owner, Felix, leaving him forced to hone a body that had lacked any real physical attention up until now. There wasn't much special to his work as a field hand, accompanying it was the proper food required to grow as a man and a place to keep himself warm. Theo couldn't ask for much when it came to the treatment he received, it was nice nonetheless. Pleasant, almost. Who was he to turn a blind eye to the hospitality of a man that only wished for his wellbeing as a proper field hand?
Despite being the property of a man, Theo continued to hold his own identity, something many Leibeigene never had the pleasure of doing. With this identity came a sense of interest in a business partner of Felix's, a woman that went by the name of Elizabeth. For a farmer, the woman had sharp blue eyes that pierced to the very soul. Dirty, delicate hands that framed her slightly chubby cheeks whenever she sat around having conversation with Felix and his field hands. It just so happened that this woman of striking beauty had become a target, a target of what little love Theo could ever experience.
And so, with his continued work as a Leibeigene and developing relationship with Elizabeth, Theo lived out his early twenties with a small along his lips. A lack of income wasn't an issue most days, Theo lived a life that, although painful, was lavish. The love he felt for those around him he couldn't help but latch to, a love that would soon go misconstrued. For what? Well, both Felix and Elizabeth would find out rather painfully it seemed.
A surprisingly warm autumn night had left Theo yearning for more conversation, for more relation. Elizabeth had left earlier that day and the field hands had all returned to their quarters for the evening. In hopes of finding this yearning for human connection fulfilled, the Leibeigene ventured out of his own quarters in hopes of finding Felix. There happened to just be one tiny problem. Or rather, a large one, depending on who you asked. The soft moans and pants of a man filtered their way through Felix's home, the corridors that led to his bedroom growing louder and louder with what could only be described as carnal attraction. An attraction that, Theo had thought, wasn't present in those around him.
Theo's face had grown cold, his cheeks flushing with red as the soft voice of a woman rang from the door he stood before. Shaking, the young man had prayed to whatever god may be above, hoping that what lay beyond the door's reach was not what he had feared. All it had taken was a gentle push, the frame of the door birthing what could only be described as a horrific scene. A scene that Felix, even now, would never forget.
Hours had passed, the rush of red that previously filled Theo's mind had finally come to a quiet halt. It seemed that it was finally over. The thick smoke of the surrounding landscape filled his lungs, the imagery of a beautiful burning town stood between him and the sky. Theo had done the unthinkable after finding Felix and Elizabeth alone in bed, brutally massacring them both until nothing but red had stained the inside of the man's room. Soon after that came the destruction of property, both inanimated and human. A majority of the land Felix owned had been lit ablaze, the few buildings used for both his home and quarters for field hands were reduced to rubble. As if a tornado had touched down, the world that Theo previously inhabited seemed to come crumbling down around him. Just beyond the lit fields and destroyed residences kneeled the man, his pale skin radiating with the warmth of blood and eyes filled with a sense of dread. Life had lost its meaning. The love he thought he had for others, gone. What had he come, Theo thought. What would come of this?
Months had passed since the incident, Theo's life thrown into shambles as quick as it had become good. Losing the woman he thought he loved, the benefactor that took care of him and his only source of happiness, the man lost himself in the pleasures of the world. Theo had gained enough knowledge and understanding of the world around him to keep afloat, finding his way from one town to the next. Nothing had mattered since that day, all he could bring himself to enjoy were the pleasures and fun that came with ruining what little life he had left.
On January 12th, 1829, Theo had been found dead by Opium Tincture Overdose, the one of two pastimes he held ever since the incident. Found by the prostitute, his other addiction, he had hired for the evening, the young man had left this earth in a way that would scar his future as a spirit. Was everything he done up until this point worth it? Who was Theodore Müller, he thought, the life he had previously held so dearly quietly slipping away into the night. The last thing Theo had heard were the screams of prostitutes filling the brothel air, it seemed he had caused a scene. Unfortunate.
Though he was now dead, Theo was having the time of his life as a Plus on earth. There was nothing that keep him attached to the mortal realm now. So, given his innate urge to take in everything he could, Theo spent near half a century moving across the world itself, taking in the cultures and knowledge that each group of people could bring him. Of course, the lack of understanding another's language was a struggle at first, nevertheless, it was a necessity for Theo to push through and learn all he could. After all, as a Plus, he had all the time in the world now.
The one thing that seemed to follow him after his death, so much so that it was becoming a problem for him, was the innate urge to replicate what he had experience with Felix and Elizabeth. The violence he perpetrated had left him stained, an ink blot upon his very soul. Ever since the incident, Theo had struggled to find himself in this world, his constant search for knowledge doing nothing for this intense hunger for violence that was birthed by his deplorable actions.
In the few years before the start of the first Great War, Theo had found himself in the presence of a man who simply went by Akuji. Akuji, or Aku, had very little going for him in the grand scheme of things it seemed. As a Shinigami, something Theo would soon be privy to, Aku had spent his time on Earth for the last two centuries training and developing a force of men and women that would fight against what he believed to be innate evil. That evil? The basic understanding that all Shinigami had, protect the soul cycle.
Aku believed that, though the Soul Cycle was important, the innate need for Shinigami to protect it was simply being pushed onto others rather than accepted freely. As if described as a cult, Aku believed the Gotei 13 and the Soul Society at large simply indoctrinated its people. Before he had left his previous Seated Officer role in the Gotei 13, he took it upon him to take advantage of everything he had access to. This access, only given to him by his repeated efforts in helping Shin'o Academy induct new students, allowed him to disappear with a small number of Asauchi. These Asauchi, gifted to those he now taught here on Earth, were the one thing he felt the Gotei 13 could give him in return for his hundreds of years of service.
Even though they had but a decade between their meeting and the start of the first Great War, the training and knowledge Aku had passed on to his newest vessel in Theo was next to extraordinary. The first and most important aspect he had passed on was the basic understanding of an Asauchi, Zanjutsu and the Shinigami's connection to a potential spirit within their blade. As the most important part, he believed, to a Shinigami's identity, Aku had beat this principle and system into Theo day in and day out. Basic movement, meditation, repeated efforts in awakening a spirit, not a day went by that Theo wasn't put to the grindstone. This paid off, of course, the time he spent learning before the first Great War had left him marked for success. It just so happened this success would remain unseen until the passing of his time in World War One.
Thanks to the addition of newly founded Gigai, acquired from Aku, Theo was capable of taking part in the first World War without problem. A majority of his time fighting was actually spent fighting for whatever side was currently leading a battle that day. In hopes of honing himself and finding fun along the way, Theo had never truly picked a side in the war. Picking a side would have simply pushed him into a world that required connecting with his fellow soldiers. No, the greatest thing he could do for himself would be to slaughtered without question, without worry. To satiate the wound that had built up over so many decades now. To claim it as a bloodbath would be an understatement.
With war and violence came a continued confusion for Theo, however. Being unable to find himself, his true self, was something that had forever plagued him since that night. When he asked himself "Who was Theodore Müller?", it was quite the serious inquiry. Nearly a decade before the start of World War Two was when that question was, at the very least slightly, answered.
(Royal Flush) was a reflection of Theo's very soul. As a spirit, Royal Flush was about as accustomed to interaction as his owner was. Words filled with vitriol and a knack for attitude, a majority of his time he would egg Theo on towards whatever absurd thought he was traveling towards. As if the same anger and violence that Theo wished to satiate had entered his Zanpakuto, Royal Flush was as thirsty for blood as Theo was. Because of this, the short decade between his awakening and World War Two was spent experiencing the joys of violence with one another. Finally, coming into his own, Theo was beginning to evolve, to find himself in the wretched world he lived in. This came at a cost, of course. A man who only expressed violence would surely find himself eroding, pulling apart at the seams. World War Two would be the final nail in the coffin for our dear Theo.
As a benefit of his time spent with Akuji before the first World War and, the added time spent with Royal Flush during the interim between both World Wars, Theo had emerged on the battlefield of the second World War ready to massacre once more. With the added addition of his own self being explored, both he and Royal Flush had found themselves on the verge of completion as a being. In their eyes, it was simply one step from here in order to unlock the penultimate expression of a Shinigami. Having arrived with their Shikai in a near perfect state, Theo had believed that the second World War would be what he needed to truly find himself. Unfortunately, that was far from the truth.
Nearing the end of the war, after all the bloodshed had been had, Theodore was farther removed from himself than ever. The acts of betrayal he perpetrated on person after person, the lives he had taken, all of the time spent trying to sate this hunger had gone without success. The very moment his blade met the ground after the final battle, Theo had finally realized that, all along, he would never be whole. With that, Theo had once again found himself at the bottom of the bottle. The War was a waste, his life was a waste, it was time to return back to the pleasures of the world.
Late one night, in the early seventies, Theo was on his last leg. Drugged out of his mind, intoxicated in ways no human would be capable of withstanding, the now aged man had found himself in an alleyway in the middle of what was his original homeland, Württemberg. The sorry state of the man was enough to repulse the nightlife-goers from ever coming close to his Gigai. This was a mistake, he thought. All his life, Theo had made mistake after mistake. There was little for him left in this world, he thought. So, why not go out with a bang?
Before that very thought could be explored, the decades worth of stress and frustration had finally caught up to the man. The very soul that kept him alive was, for all intents and purposes, stained. The acts of evil he found such pleasure in, the very violence that he sought to sate had finally consumed him. It was a painful process, a black miasma consuming his very being as Theodore had turned from what was a simple man looking for a life to a Vizard near overnight, the expression of his inner self finally coming to a head.
As he awoke in a German alleyway, Theo shook the sleep from his bones before meeting eyes with what could be described as his sick and twisted fantasy, the return of his beloved, Elizabeth. Elizabeth's form had malformed, her hair growing frail and changing to a sickly color while her eyes had become two entirely different colors from the original pearls Theo had fallen for. Clamoring out to her, Theo attempted to embrace is dead loved one, failing at each attempt he took at the air. Quietly, the woman crawled her away along the man's backside and gently whispered into his ear, a wicked smile accompanying her words.
"Oh you poor thing."
Isa spoke, her fingers trailing along the man's broad shoulders, sending a jolt through Theo's body. It seemed that everything he had been searching for had finally found him. The feeling was something like a glass being filled to the brim. Theo was only half of a whole being for so long, Isa's creation allowing him to finally become one with himself. He had ascended, finally reaching the very thing he had been seeking this entire time. Theo had found himself, finally.
Soon after recovering from the less than pleasant hollowfication of his soul, Theo took it upon himself to fortunately grow fond of Isa, rekindling his relationship with Elizabeth's shadow as if nothing had ever changed. As if he never took the woman's life with his own hands. The three of them, Akuji, Theo and Isa, had found themselves quickly moving towards the start of the third World War after many years of companionship. This was Theo's final war he sought to take part in. With Isa's help and Akuji's guidance, he had hoped that this would be his final bout. After so many years spent with the three of them, traveling the world and embroiling himself in it's cultures, Theo knew this would truly be his moment. A battlefield in which he would truly find what it meant to be One's self.
World War 3, despite having gone and went, was filled with enough violence and suffering that it would put Theo's acts in both the first and second World War to shame. His time on the battlefield was never met with some type of exquisite act of aggression, no, on the contrary, his appearance was only known by a select few. Those select few, of course, were those that somehow survived the encounter with the man. In a sick twist of fate, the man who had perpetrated such intense and senseless violence on those who had originally wronged him in his previous life was now enacting violence for the sake of violence. Anger and terror for the sake of fun, joy and an expression of One's self. Theo had spent these long, long hours in battle fulfilling a carnal urge that only few could ever experience. The feeling of fresh blood spilling against skin, the quiet whimpers of men and women around him, slowly finding themselves drained of life. As if left to travel the River Styx alone, Theo had sought to leave his mark on the world. What was that mark, one would ask? The mark of a man who simply wanted to have his fun.
With World War 3 coming to an end, the blood that Theo shed had left him satiated. Not only was he left satiated, he was left once again wanting for nothing, much as he did as a boy. The German Noble had found himself a place in the world, atop those who he saw as lesser. Atop those that could never hope to hold a candle to what it meant to be above and beyond the understanding of the spiritual mind. Theo had become perfect in his eyes. The soul of a man that simply reflected his own sick, egotistical nature.
While he had gone quietly under the radar for the next near century, that time was spent honing what he felt were the skills that left him above all the rest. Everything that Akuji had originally taught him tied to this new understanding of self that came with Isa had only pushed him to discover more and more, little by little. Year after year, month after month, day after day. In this time, he had only honed his craft and pushed towards unlocking his Bankai alongside his beloved Isa. Theo came into his own in ways that some could only ever hope to accomplish. Becoming nearly one with his Inner Hollow and Zanpakuto, there was little left for him to do but remerge into the world anew. The man that had left his mark on the battlefield of World War 3 and, for all everyone else knew, disappeared, had hoped to return to the world once more. Why? To leave his mark yet again, of course.
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