Sven Sutoikku
Nov 28, 2011 21:31:05 GMT -8
Post by seishinsakuran on Nov 28, 2011 21:31:05 GMT -8
Profile Information
Name: Sven Sutoikku
Alias: Sven Delacroix, Demon of Sound
Gender:Male
Age:380 yrs, appears around 30
Faction: Arrancar
Rank: Segunda Espada
Reiatsu Color: Silver
Reiatsu Aura:
Ominous Silence
As Sven flares his reiatsu, an unnatural silence seems to temporarily deafen all other noises, instilling a ominous sense of paranoia in those around him.
Sven is approximately 6'2" tall,has an athletic physique, and possesses long brown hair now dyed a silver colour from his reiatsu, flowing freely down to the middle of his back. His facial features are stern, yet he always seems a little misplaced as though he's distracted by something else. He often has a cigarette or other object placed between his lips, even though half the time, the cigarette remains to be lit.
His irises are a fierce silver color, and often seem distracted.Unusual for an Arrancar, Sven possesses no mask fragment, however he does possess slight markings above his eyes and along the upper part of his back, an exposed spinal cord can be seen,stretching upward into two bony thin plates disappearing into the back of where his shoulder blades end. There are also the remnants of bone formed across the outer lobes of his ears in small studs. His hollow hole is located around on his left hand, roughly an inch in diameter.He possesses the number 2 across his right pectoral.
His wardrobe consists mainly of a the traditional Arrancar white hakama.
His personal tastes have the sleeves of the hakama missing, the collar hanging loosely around Sven's shoulders. His hands are often covered up by white leather gloves to hide the existence of the Hollow hole.
Alternately, Sven may wear a plain white sleeveless muscle shirt, his numeral leering out from over the top, with a greyish coloured cloak over his shoulders.
Sven possesses a seemingly stoic nature,however many believe him to be lazy. This is not true, as those who know him better are perfectly aware of. His personality on the outside seems carefree, however he perfectly intends for it to reflect such, as his eyes often seem focused on something else. Though, his personality seems as such, he is carefully analyzing the situation and his surroundings for anything that may be used to his advantage. He often goes for the quickest and most efficient way of ridding himself of his assailants, so he studies every last detail
On a random note, it is noted that Sven is often a little edgy when there is silence, he prefers there to be even the smallest noise to comfort his troubled mind, so his fingers may often tap against the hilt of his zanpaktou to create some form of noise or he may twirl the ribbons of the blade if bored.
Sven's battle style is roughly calculating. He often wields his blade with just his right hand, his left hand often used for quick blows to what he has gathered as a weak spot on his foe. On occasion, he may even toy with his foe, a psychotic nature of his revealing itself, as he seems to enjoy the anguish of those lesser than him or even the humiliation of those he knows are stronger, as it brings him to a level closer to their own.
Sven mainly joined the Espada as a initiative against the Shinigami and those who might align themselves with them. He is rather disgusted at the very existence of them, and is rather defensive about the matter when brought up.He also prefers to keep his past hidden for the same reason, although it could be the fact that he remembers very little about why he loathes them.
Sven is also shown to have a more elegant side, as is expected of his more reserves self. He often has a weird craving for various elegances not just relating to music (although he does enjoy most types of music.)
Unlike the other Hollows/Arrancar, he is a bit more noble in his behavior, perhaps as a way to separate himself from his Hollow urges. He speaks with a slight French accent, though he knows not why, and has a certain fondness for the opposite sex.
Sven was born as Sven Delacroix to a pair of highly religious parents in a small peasant village near Paris, France. His childhood was fairly average, a meager living which his parents often struggled to obtain. But it was the cost of being within the poor. Even the Catholic church did little to improve their harsh lifestyle, despite his struggling parent's commitment to the faith. He was raised to have the utmost respect and manners befitting that of the church, even to the extent of beginning a missionary school to further his education. It was at that school that he met a forbidden love amongst the higher ranks, the current Duke's daughter: Amelia Chevalier.
It was forbidden for a commoner to associate himself with noble, let alone one as high class as herself, but he didn't let it stop him in his ambitions.
The first meeting was on the courtyard of the church building as Sven had been tasked to clean up the area. The girl had lost a valuable heirloom, a silver necklace that had been her recently deceased mother's. Taking time aside, Sven took time to locate the heirloom, eventually finding it under a bush. Upon retrieving the necklace, the girl Amelia thanked him, telling him he should meet up with her later.
The next several weeks saw Sven sneaking to the opposite end of the courtyard to sneak into the more illustrious of the dorms belonging to those of noble birth to meet Amelia. The eighth week came round, and Amelia mentioned how she no longer knew her father as the man he once was, about how it would be great to escape the facility. Sven, agreeing with her, hatched a plan that would see the two of them off, towards the location of Japan.
Having formulated the escape down to the last detail, the plan came to be executed. Midnight saw Amelia jumping out her window into Sven's arms, weaving through corridors to avoid prying eyes, through the country side where his family's farm laid, to the glistening sea. Stowing away among the cargo of a ship, they awaited their destination. As the island of Japan came into view, they eagerly anticipated their new life as the ship docked.
Having made the trip safely, Sven changed his last name to Sutoikku, eliminating any possible chance that he could be found out by the French government. He married Amelia Chevalier, via Japan's customs to further eliminate the possibility of being found out, her last name also changing to that of Sutoikku. Even though Sven had a bounty on his head, the occasions seemed endless, even seeing the spawning of two children. But as a wise man once said, nothing lasts forever......
The first years I knew very little of what I was or what my purpose was, yet an insatiable hunger drove me, and for that time it was all I required.
My original form in Hueco Mundo was that of a large masked dog, two large horns loomed out from my cranium, the hole in my chest alerting me to the monster that surfaced from my misdeeds, a deep anguish ate at me much like the cruelest of blades, yet I knew not the cause. But there existed another fatal flaw within my design. Through some act of divine intervention or perhaps the phenomenon known as karma, I had become blind. Normally that would have made one a target, but I learned how to hone my bestial senses to that around me, and fuel my strengths by devouring those who were weaker than me.
Over time, it had seemed the souls I devoured out of my own self loathing,were trying to reclaim my body through their misguided retribution. I had evolved into a mass greater than before, but at the cost of integrating numerous consciences into this single being, which towered over all others of its kind. I could feel the souls writhing alongside me, fighting for dominance of the being,suffering much like I had been, but as before, my insatiable hatred and will drove them away as I took control of the being known as a Gillian, furthering adding to the pool of souls as I still fed upon the weaker Hollows, striving for greater meaning.
I had traveled the moonlit sands of the Hueco Mundo desert for many a year now in an attempt to locate this Segador I was after. I had found numerous Hollows who knew nothing, so they served little purpose other than sustaining my hunger. Every two months though, it seemed I fought a single Hollow who knew of who it was I searched for, even granting me information as to where to locate Segador, devouring them too as fuel and my way of a thank you. Yet even as I had intel on the Vasto Lorde's whereabouts, I constantly showed up after he had already left, nothing indicating he had been there other than his footprints in the sand.
Just when I found myself giving in to my despair, I found not Segador, but he found me. I remember gazing upwards at the being, the insectoid features of his face looming coldly down upon me, the blades on either side poised for a slaughter at any given moment. As Segador's head tilted to the side, I remember his words: "So you've been searching for me, Hollow? How putrid, yet noble of you to provide yourself as an offering."
My reaction was one I could have only think of given the situation, a deep throated growl, as I ushered a warning to the being. Tilting his head to the opposite side, it seemed to do naught but amuse him further. It only served to enrage me, as I felt my body act according to my wishes, lunging at the Vasto Lorde. In a flash, I felt the blades of the mantis like Hollow pierce through my flesh, exiting upon the other side, as I spat out black blood. The claw exited, and I felt my body tumble to the ground, as Segador let a uncomforting laugh escape. I knew he had the upper advantage, as I felt his claws sear into the plating of my weaker body, splattering my ebonic concoction across the sand as he took enjoyment in my helplessness. It hurt, every little thing hurt, Segador had made sure of it, even to the point of crippling my back limbs to prevent his little toy from escaping. So it was, I dragged my body, numb with pain, towards a rocky outcropping, while Segador watched with a sick interest. He knew I was no match for him, yet he continued to torment me. His pace remained relatively slow as he followed me around the outcropping that loomed out of the sand like a colossus. As I shut my eyes, I let a roar escape my lips towards the Vasto Lorde, a glimmer of hope that it would scare the being off, though I knew better. Ironically enough, it did one better, the rumbling ensued, as Segador began rushing in to administer the coup de grace. As his body shot by the rock, he was caught in the landslide of the rocks, all the large rocks crashing down upon him.
Somehow, I had miraculously won, but my rage was still unquenched,as I collapsed, my body heaving and trembling with each breath I took. I remained still for three days as I watched the pile of rubble where Segador had faced a premature burial, hoping that he did not rise again. I could still sense the Vasto Lorde, but he remained still underneath his rocky grave. Pulling myself back onto my feet, I limped over to the rocks, the exposed cranium of Segador moving amongst the rocks. His head turned upwards as he saw me glare at him with an unrivaled passion. Closing his eyes, he quietly accepted his fate, as my teeth sunk deep into his neck. A quick motion of my skull to the die and it snapped Segador's neck with a sickening splintering noise, signaling the end to his anguish. Using my snout, I proceeding in uncovering the corpse of the Vasto Lorde. It was my intention to obtain his strength and add it to my own. As I dug into the supple and tender flesh of a Vasto Lorde, my body had begun to advance to the next stage.
My new form as a Vasto Lorde was grotesque, the canine snout melting away to reveal rows of teeth that seemed closer to a sharks than a dog. My body was still streamlined and muscular, allowing for quick maneuvering, the tendrils I once had still there, often fluttering behind me. I was still blind, as the hunger and hatred still largely remained along with a more clear idea of what I had become. I had reached the pinnacle of evolution, a feat very few Hollow ever hoped to achieve, yet I no longer had a goal, as I had devoured the last adversary I had, ending the vendetta upon his dismissal.
As a Vasto Lorde, I wandered blankly through the forests in which Hollows hid, taking my pick of the cream of the crop. Even at times, I sought a challenge, taking on multiple Gillian at a time, only to be cast out towards the desert once more to contemplate amongst myself. The most interesting of challenges came from men who donned black robes. For some reasons, the very sight of them sent me into frenzies, often slaughtering them as soon as they drew their blades. It was curious, as I had heard them speak of a new race of Hollows greater than the others, ones that had also regained their humanity.
Over the next few days, glancing blankly at the moons of Hueco Mundo, I let the rumours swirl through my head. The idea of evolving by removing one's mask piqued my interest, as I wondered the nature of the abilities it would bestow upon me. Locating Hollows, I begun to experiment by forcing them to the grounds, and while they squirmed under my strength, my clawed hands, would pierce behind their masks, as I forcefully tore them from their face. The results were all the same, as each Hollow had died upon the removal. I was starting to think these rumours were just that: rumors.
Yet for some reason, as I continually fed on the maskless Hollows who were to die anyway, the thought plagued my mind. I never saw it happen in person, but curiosity and desire ran through my blood like fire, so there was only one way to find out. Reaching behind my skull, I found where the spinal cord ended, and the mask began. Slowly pressing my claws into the flesh, I dug underneath the mask, as I slowly pried it from my face. The mask seemed to resist, but slowly but surely it came off, as pain shot through my body, the blood pouring freely from the face that no longer possessed a mask.
It was there I felt my sightless gaze cast upwards, as my body fell down into a heap. It felt like death, and I half expected to go the same way as did the other Hollows. But a week later, I had opened my eyes to a most astonishing sight.
First thing that came to focus was that as I gazed towards the moons of Hueco Mundo, I could actually see them, My hands tightened at my sides, as I embraced this sight to which I had never known. Bringing a hand upwards towards my face, I watched as the sand flowed freely between my fingers, which miraculously was made of a material not like Hollow plating, but more like human flesh. Bringing both hands to my face, I watched as they flexed. Even though one seemed odd with a large gaping hole in the middle, I felt satisfied with them. Standing up, I glanced down at the nude fleshy body I had been given, I found myself pleased with the results. Every ounce of my mind was here, as I could clearly think of what had occurred as a Hollow.
But I was unsure, was this just a dream? Or was this reality? It seemed too good to be true, as the hunger was no longer there. Even my emotions had been properly contained, I no longer felt anything, rage or anything of the sort. Pulling myself up, I decided to try out this new body, despite how awkward it seemed. As I walked forward slowly putting one foot before the other, I glanced towards the horizon, wondering what awaited me there.....
Name: Sven Sutoikku
Alias: Sven Delacroix, Demon of Sound
Gender:Male
Age:380 yrs, appears around 30
Faction: Arrancar
Rank: Segunda Espada
Reiatsu Color: Silver
Reiatsu Aura:
Ominous Silence
As Sven flares his reiatsu, an unnatural silence seems to temporarily deafen all other noises, instilling a ominous sense of paranoia in those around him.
Appearance:
Sven is approximately 6'2" tall,has an athletic physique, and possesses long brown hair now dyed a silver colour from his reiatsu, flowing freely down to the middle of his back. His facial features are stern, yet he always seems a little misplaced as though he's distracted by something else. He often has a cigarette or other object placed between his lips, even though half the time, the cigarette remains to be lit.
His irises are a fierce silver color, and often seem distracted.Unusual for an Arrancar, Sven possesses no mask fragment, however he does possess slight markings above his eyes and along the upper part of his back, an exposed spinal cord can be seen,stretching upward into two bony thin plates disappearing into the back of where his shoulder blades end. There are also the remnants of bone formed across the outer lobes of his ears in small studs. His hollow hole is located around on his left hand, roughly an inch in diameter.He possesses the number 2 across his right pectoral.
His wardrobe consists mainly of a the traditional Arrancar white hakama.
His personal tastes have the sleeves of the hakama missing, the collar hanging loosely around Sven's shoulders. His hands are often covered up by white leather gloves to hide the existence of the Hollow hole.
Alternately, Sven may wear a plain white sleeveless muscle shirt, his numeral leering out from over the top, with a greyish coloured cloak over his shoulders.
Personality:
Sven possesses a seemingly stoic nature,however many believe him to be lazy. This is not true, as those who know him better are perfectly aware of. His personality on the outside seems carefree, however he perfectly intends for it to reflect such, as his eyes often seem focused on something else. Though, his personality seems as such, he is carefully analyzing the situation and his surroundings for anything that may be used to his advantage. He often goes for the quickest and most efficient way of ridding himself of his assailants, so he studies every last detail
On a random note, it is noted that Sven is often a little edgy when there is silence, he prefers there to be even the smallest noise to comfort his troubled mind, so his fingers may often tap against the hilt of his zanpaktou to create some form of noise or he may twirl the ribbons of the blade if bored.
Sven's battle style is roughly calculating. He often wields his blade with just his right hand, his left hand often used for quick blows to what he has gathered as a weak spot on his foe. On occasion, he may even toy with his foe, a psychotic nature of his revealing itself, as he seems to enjoy the anguish of those lesser than him or even the humiliation of those he knows are stronger, as it brings him to a level closer to their own.
Sven mainly joined the Espada as a initiative against the Shinigami and those who might align themselves with them. He is rather disgusted at the very existence of them, and is rather defensive about the matter when brought up.He also prefers to keep his past hidden for the same reason, although it could be the fact that he remembers very little about why he loathes them.
Sven is also shown to have a more elegant side, as is expected of his more reserves self. He often has a weird craving for various elegances not just relating to music (although he does enjoy most types of music.)
Unlike the other Hollows/Arrancar, he is a bit more noble in his behavior, perhaps as a way to separate himself from his Hollow urges. He speaks with a slight French accent, though he knows not why, and has a certain fondness for the opposite sex.
History:
Sven was born as Sven Delacroix to a pair of highly religious parents in a small peasant village near Paris, France. His childhood was fairly average, a meager living which his parents often struggled to obtain. But it was the cost of being within the poor. Even the Catholic church did little to improve their harsh lifestyle, despite his struggling parent's commitment to the faith. He was raised to have the utmost respect and manners befitting that of the church, even to the extent of beginning a missionary school to further his education. It was at that school that he met a forbidden love amongst the higher ranks, the current Duke's daughter: Amelia Chevalier.
It was forbidden for a commoner to associate himself with noble, let alone one as high class as herself, but he didn't let it stop him in his ambitions.
The first meeting was on the courtyard of the church building as Sven had been tasked to clean up the area. The girl had lost a valuable heirloom, a silver necklace that had been her recently deceased mother's. Taking time aside, Sven took time to locate the heirloom, eventually finding it under a bush. Upon retrieving the necklace, the girl Amelia thanked him, telling him he should meet up with her later.
The next several weeks saw Sven sneaking to the opposite end of the courtyard to sneak into the more illustrious of the dorms belonging to those of noble birth to meet Amelia. The eighth week came round, and Amelia mentioned how she no longer knew her father as the man he once was, about how it would be great to escape the facility. Sven, agreeing with her, hatched a plan that would see the two of them off, towards the location of Japan.
Having formulated the escape down to the last detail, the plan came to be executed. Midnight saw Amelia jumping out her window into Sven's arms, weaving through corridors to avoid prying eyes, through the country side where his family's farm laid, to the glistening sea. Stowing away among the cargo of a ship, they awaited their destination. As the island of Japan came into view, they eagerly anticipated their new life as the ship docked.
Having made the trip safely, Sven changed his last name to Sutoikku, eliminating any possible chance that he could be found out by the French government. He married Amelia Chevalier, via Japan's customs to further eliminate the possibility of being found out, her last name also changing to that of Sutoikku. Even though Sven had a bounty on his head, the occasions seemed endless, even seeing the spawning of two children. But as a wise man once said, nothing lasts forever......
Sven was a young man in Feudal Japan,married to a former French nobleman's daughter, with two kids. It seemed like a fantasy tale as it was, but then came the inclusion as Sven delved deeper into Japanese lore, the start of him being able to see the spirits transfer back and forth. He had started a new job working with objects that affected the seismology of Japan, the prevention of earthquakes the real goal. As he went off to work each day, he would often look up to see men in black robes fading in and out across the building tops. On occasion, there was even the inclusion of large masked beasts being pursued by them. Sven simply shrugged the phenomena off as nothing more than his imagination playing tricks on him. Eventually, as he mentioned these strange happenings to his wife, she counseled him, convincing him to seek a priest's help.
He had taken her advice, seeing the town's local temple priest. As he sat before the priest, the man told him of Shingami, those who help the world by allowing those who remained to pass over and in turn cleanse those who had been consumed by their emotions. As the man finished, Sven bowed his head, returning to his home.
As he arrived at his home, something felt off. One, it was too silent, as a shudder rose up his spine. Calling out his wive's name, he was taken aback when there was no answer. Immediately Sven rushed into the house, his jaw dropping at the gruesome sight that beheld him. The walls were dripping in blood, handprints smeared across the scene like some monster movie, Sven turning to a state of panic. A thud behind him and Sven turned around in time to see a large object collide with his skull as his body fell limp onto the floor.
Sven felt everything being pried from his hands all at once, everything taken from him within an instance. Even though he knew he had died, he could still see the robed men shuffling through the house, taking whatever pleased them, as his body was drug outside to a funeral pyre, yet his consciousness remained in the house, a chain seemingly connecting him to the place. He looked solemnly at the men, wondering why, when he saw three more bodies drug outside. As his eyes focused on the features upon the corpses' faces, his misery soon turned to rage. The three bodies, while mutilated beyond recognition, still held the fundamental characteristics of his family's face. His corporeal body lunged at them, as the chain was torn from his chest, but it mattered not.
His goal was to make those who did this suffer like he did. As his frame bounded towards the mean in black robes, his appearance changed dramatically. His features became more bestial, as newly formed teeth sunk into the warm flesh of the first man, grinding and tearing as he felt the man collapse beneath his weight. His body, now bulky and muscular, now lunged through the wall towards the other men, repeating the process by which he devoured the first man. Letting a howl usher from his lips, he felt a strange liquid solidify over his face, a mask forming as he turned through three wisps floating outside the door.
As he approached the wisps, the features of his loved ones across their spiritual forms as they looked solemnly at Sven's new form. His canine features glanced at the melancholic expressions on their faces, as he neared closer to them, yearning to be with them, as his body slowly consumed them, their souls becoming one of his own, as he looked mournfully towards the moon, a longing filling that empty void where his heart had once been.
He had taken her advice, seeing the town's local temple priest. As he sat before the priest, the man told him of Shingami, those who help the world by allowing those who remained to pass over and in turn cleanse those who had been consumed by their emotions. As the man finished, Sven bowed his head, returning to his home.
As he arrived at his home, something felt off. One, it was too silent, as a shudder rose up his spine. Calling out his wive's name, he was taken aback when there was no answer. Immediately Sven rushed into the house, his jaw dropping at the gruesome sight that beheld him. The walls were dripping in blood, handprints smeared across the scene like some monster movie, Sven turning to a state of panic. A thud behind him and Sven turned around in time to see a large object collide with his skull as his body fell limp onto the floor.
Sven felt everything being pried from his hands all at once, everything taken from him within an instance. Even though he knew he had died, he could still see the robed men shuffling through the house, taking whatever pleased them, as his body was drug outside to a funeral pyre, yet his consciousness remained in the house, a chain seemingly connecting him to the place. He looked solemnly at the men, wondering why, when he saw three more bodies drug outside. As his eyes focused on the features upon the corpses' faces, his misery soon turned to rage. The three bodies, while mutilated beyond recognition, still held the fundamental characteristics of his family's face. His corporeal body lunged at them, as the chain was torn from his chest, but it mattered not.
His goal was to make those who did this suffer like he did. As his frame bounded towards the mean in black robes, his appearance changed dramatically. His features became more bestial, as newly formed teeth sunk into the warm flesh of the first man, grinding and tearing as he felt the man collapse beneath his weight. His body, now bulky and muscular, now lunged through the wall towards the other men, repeating the process by which he devoured the first man. Letting a howl usher from his lips, he felt a strange liquid solidify over his face, a mask forming as he turned through three wisps floating outside the door.
As he approached the wisps, the features of his loved ones across their spiritual forms as they looked solemnly at Sven's new form. His canine features glanced at the melancholic expressions on their faces, as he neared closer to them, yearning to be with them, as his body slowly consumed them, their souls becoming one of his own, as he looked mournfully towards the moon, a longing filling that empty void where his heart had once been.
The first years I knew very little of what I was or what my purpose was, yet an insatiable hunger drove me, and for that time it was all I required.
My original form in Hueco Mundo was that of a large masked dog, two large horns loomed out from my cranium, the hole in my chest alerting me to the monster that surfaced from my misdeeds, a deep anguish ate at me much like the cruelest of blades, yet I knew not the cause. But there existed another fatal flaw within my design. Through some act of divine intervention or perhaps the phenomenon known as karma, I had become blind. Normally that would have made one a target, but I learned how to hone my bestial senses to that around me, and fuel my strengths by devouring those who were weaker than me.
Over time, it had seemed the souls I devoured out of my own self loathing,were trying to reclaim my body through their misguided retribution. I had evolved into a mass greater than before, but at the cost of integrating numerous consciences into this single being, which towered over all others of its kind. I could feel the souls writhing alongside me, fighting for dominance of the being,suffering much like I had been, but as before, my insatiable hatred and will drove them away as I took control of the being known as a Gillian, furthering adding to the pool of souls as I still fed upon the weaker Hollows, striving for greater meaning.
It wasn't until I had complete control over the Gillian body before I changed again. My form shrunk into a more streamlined and aerodynamic form much like my original form, a horned hound. My senses were more superb than they had been before, two tendrils flowing behind me as they picked up even the smallest of vibrations. And what was more, though it was fuzzy, I could see once more. Some part of my former self reemerged, the intellect resurfacing, but still the hunger remained whole. It was then I found a group of lesser Hollows with whom I identified. Through many long months, we had formed a pack to increase our chances of survival. We hunted and ate together as one unit, the weaker members of the group often becoming food for the stronger of the group, strengthening our unit.
It wasn't too long before I took to a certain Hollow that took the shape of a graceful crane, her name being Amel. She was beautiful to me and not only in the sense that I wished to devour her, but also because she possessed a sense of familiarity that I had not felt for a while.However, before too long. our numbers began to dwindle. Many of our group were devoured by stronger Hollows, both within our ranks and out. Soon most were in a form similar to my own that was referred to as an Adjuchas. I can't say it lasted long though, due merely to the fact that something was picking us off one by one. I remember it clearly as though it had happened mere days ago. I had came across the last of my group, who happened to be Amel, her eyes pleading towards me from beneath her cracked mask, her legs broken and irreparable. As she let out a mournful cry, she slowly revealed that the herd had been wiped out mainly by a Vasto Lorde calling himself Segador. As I reared my head back once more, I let another long howl escape, as my gaping maw swallowed the weakened creature before me, an act of mercy on my part.
Rage, a feeling I was too familiar with, had consumed me once again as I searched the Moonlit Desert for this Segador. It was revenge and yet it was so much more. The Menos had disrespected me and expected me to let an act slide so easily, wiping out the only family I knew. The hole in my chest ached more than ever now, and I yearned to fill it by ridding myself of the nuisance of a Vasto Lorde.
It wasn't too long before I took to a certain Hollow that took the shape of a graceful crane, her name being Amel. She was beautiful to me and not only in the sense that I wished to devour her, but also because she possessed a sense of familiarity that I had not felt for a while.However, before too long. our numbers began to dwindle. Many of our group were devoured by stronger Hollows, both within our ranks and out. Soon most were in a form similar to my own that was referred to as an Adjuchas. I can't say it lasted long though, due merely to the fact that something was picking us off one by one. I remember it clearly as though it had happened mere days ago. I had came across the last of my group, who happened to be Amel, her eyes pleading towards me from beneath her cracked mask, her legs broken and irreparable. As she let out a mournful cry, she slowly revealed that the herd had been wiped out mainly by a Vasto Lorde calling himself Segador. As I reared my head back once more, I let another long howl escape, as my gaping maw swallowed the weakened creature before me, an act of mercy on my part.
Rage, a feeling I was too familiar with, had consumed me once again as I searched the Moonlit Desert for this Segador. It was revenge and yet it was so much more. The Menos had disrespected me and expected me to let an act slide so easily, wiping out the only family I knew. The hole in my chest ached more than ever now, and I yearned to fill it by ridding myself of the nuisance of a Vasto Lorde.
I had traveled the moonlit sands of the Hueco Mundo desert for many a year now in an attempt to locate this Segador I was after. I had found numerous Hollows who knew nothing, so they served little purpose other than sustaining my hunger. Every two months though, it seemed I fought a single Hollow who knew of who it was I searched for, even granting me information as to where to locate Segador, devouring them too as fuel and my way of a thank you. Yet even as I had intel on the Vasto Lorde's whereabouts, I constantly showed up after he had already left, nothing indicating he had been there other than his footprints in the sand.
Just when I found myself giving in to my despair, I found not Segador, but he found me. I remember gazing upwards at the being, the insectoid features of his face looming coldly down upon me, the blades on either side poised for a slaughter at any given moment. As Segador's head tilted to the side, I remember his words: "So you've been searching for me, Hollow? How putrid, yet noble of you to provide yourself as an offering."
My reaction was one I could have only think of given the situation, a deep throated growl, as I ushered a warning to the being. Tilting his head to the opposite side, it seemed to do naught but amuse him further. It only served to enrage me, as I felt my body act according to my wishes, lunging at the Vasto Lorde. In a flash, I felt the blades of the mantis like Hollow pierce through my flesh, exiting upon the other side, as I spat out black blood. The claw exited, and I felt my body tumble to the ground, as Segador let a uncomforting laugh escape. I knew he had the upper advantage, as I felt his claws sear into the plating of my weaker body, splattering my ebonic concoction across the sand as he took enjoyment in my helplessness. It hurt, every little thing hurt, Segador had made sure of it, even to the point of crippling my back limbs to prevent his little toy from escaping. So it was, I dragged my body, numb with pain, towards a rocky outcropping, while Segador watched with a sick interest. He knew I was no match for him, yet he continued to torment me. His pace remained relatively slow as he followed me around the outcropping that loomed out of the sand like a colossus. As I shut my eyes, I let a roar escape my lips towards the Vasto Lorde, a glimmer of hope that it would scare the being off, though I knew better. Ironically enough, it did one better, the rumbling ensued, as Segador began rushing in to administer the coup de grace. As his body shot by the rock, he was caught in the landslide of the rocks, all the large rocks crashing down upon him.
Somehow, I had miraculously won, but my rage was still unquenched,as I collapsed, my body heaving and trembling with each breath I took. I remained still for three days as I watched the pile of rubble where Segador had faced a premature burial, hoping that he did not rise again. I could still sense the Vasto Lorde, but he remained still underneath his rocky grave. Pulling myself back onto my feet, I limped over to the rocks, the exposed cranium of Segador moving amongst the rocks. His head turned upwards as he saw me glare at him with an unrivaled passion. Closing his eyes, he quietly accepted his fate, as my teeth sunk deep into his neck. A quick motion of my skull to the die and it snapped Segador's neck with a sickening splintering noise, signaling the end to his anguish. Using my snout, I proceeding in uncovering the corpse of the Vasto Lorde. It was my intention to obtain his strength and add it to my own. As I dug into the supple and tender flesh of a Vasto Lorde, my body had begun to advance to the next stage.
My new form as a Vasto Lorde was grotesque, the canine snout melting away to reveal rows of teeth that seemed closer to a sharks than a dog. My body was still streamlined and muscular, allowing for quick maneuvering, the tendrils I once had still there, often fluttering behind me. I was still blind, as the hunger and hatred still largely remained along with a more clear idea of what I had become. I had reached the pinnacle of evolution, a feat very few Hollow ever hoped to achieve, yet I no longer had a goal, as I had devoured the last adversary I had, ending the vendetta upon his dismissal.
As a Vasto Lorde, I wandered blankly through the forests in which Hollows hid, taking my pick of the cream of the crop. Even at times, I sought a challenge, taking on multiple Gillian at a time, only to be cast out towards the desert once more to contemplate amongst myself. The most interesting of challenges came from men who donned black robes. For some reasons, the very sight of them sent me into frenzies, often slaughtering them as soon as they drew their blades. It was curious, as I had heard them speak of a new race of Hollows greater than the others, ones that had also regained their humanity.
Over the next few days, glancing blankly at the moons of Hueco Mundo, I let the rumours swirl through my head. The idea of evolving by removing one's mask piqued my interest, as I wondered the nature of the abilities it would bestow upon me. Locating Hollows, I begun to experiment by forcing them to the grounds, and while they squirmed under my strength, my clawed hands, would pierce behind their masks, as I forcefully tore them from their face. The results were all the same, as each Hollow had died upon the removal. I was starting to think these rumours were just that: rumors.
Yet for some reason, as I continually fed on the maskless Hollows who were to die anyway, the thought plagued my mind. I never saw it happen in person, but curiosity and desire ran through my blood like fire, so there was only one way to find out. Reaching behind my skull, I found where the spinal cord ended, and the mask began. Slowly pressing my claws into the flesh, I dug underneath the mask, as I slowly pried it from my face. The mask seemed to resist, but slowly but surely it came off, as pain shot through my body, the blood pouring freely from the face that no longer possessed a mask.
It was there I felt my sightless gaze cast upwards, as my body fell down into a heap. It felt like death, and I half expected to go the same way as did the other Hollows. But a week later, I had opened my eyes to a most astonishing sight.
First thing that came to focus was that as I gazed towards the moons of Hueco Mundo, I could actually see them, My hands tightened at my sides, as I embraced this sight to which I had never known. Bringing a hand upwards towards my face, I watched as the sand flowed freely between my fingers, which miraculously was made of a material not like Hollow plating, but more like human flesh. Bringing both hands to my face, I watched as they flexed. Even though one seemed odd with a large gaping hole in the middle, I felt satisfied with them. Standing up, I glanced down at the nude fleshy body I had been given, I found myself pleased with the results. Every ounce of my mind was here, as I could clearly think of what had occurred as a Hollow.
But I was unsure, was this just a dream? Or was this reality? It seemed too good to be true, as the hunger was no longer there. Even my emotions had been properly contained, I no longer felt anything, rage or anything of the sort. Pulling myself up, I decided to try out this new body, despite how awkward it seemed. As I walked forward slowly putting one foot before the other, I glanced towards the horizon, wondering what awaited me there.....
Now it's rather interesting how events seem to play out to one's advantage. As I look at my current form as an Arrancar, it's difficult to imagine it could have not been, the only evidence now that I was ever a Menos being the exposed spinal cord running along my back and the hole in my left hand. I came close to death that day, but through some miracle, I had awoken with a missing mask, and a more humanoid form. The rage I had frequently felt, the insatiable hunger, now all a nightmare of my past. Although I can't seem to remember anything before that. I wonder why...
Over two weeks since I became what they called an Arrancar, having torn off the mask upon my evolution into a Vasto Lorde. I adjusted to this new humanoid body rather quickly, originally thinking it would take months. The Espada seemed to have others analyzing me carefully. I often see various Arrancars and Hollows eyeing me as I walk by, as though with disgust and a strange sense of curiosity. I'm sure it is their doing. It has been like this ever since I was transformed, although I'm rather curious to the reasoning of this.
It has been another couple of days, or so I believe, unaware of the passing time as the Moonlit Desert always seems to be night and certain areas of Las Noches, there is always a sun shining bright in the artificial sky. I was called before the Espada. Now I'm not one to remember details, but the main gist was that they were slightly impressed by the skills I possessed. It was then that they invited among their ranks. I was given the number 2 as a sign of my strength, a replacement for the previous Segunda before me. I was also given my first assignment. He wanted me to further hone my skills as an Arrancar and master the basics along with something he called a Ressurecion. The way he explained it was when an Arrancar's sword was released, they would take on a new form, often resembling the form they had previously as a Hollow. So it was then I went wandering into the Moonlit Desert once more, not part of a group but in solitude to master the abilities that had been bestowed upon me.
It had been many months now or so I believe. I have mastered the basic Sonido rather quickly, as it seems to come naturally to me. Many of these lesser Hollows can't touch me, the only challenge to me is the occasional encounter of an group of Adjucha. I purposely sought out Menos class Hollows to perfect this Ressureccion. Originally I had just evolved into an Vasto Lorde after devouring the one that my thoughts were consumed with before tearing off my mask. That was when they called me to be in the Espada. This Ressurecion of mine strongly resembles that Vasto Lorde form. The only difference is that there are patches of skin between the bony formations on my knees,elbows,feet and hands. It always reminds me of that day whenever I stumble across a reflection of my Ressurecion. I trained and trained, trying to locate a Hollow of Vasto Lorde status, but they are scarce, so I constantly failed, settling for Gillians and Adjuchas. Over the next six months, I had mastered the form and a few of the abilities that had come with it. I was focusing on modifying my Cero to incorporate these sound based abilities Hopefully, there will be some worthy adversary that will push me to my limit and allow me to seek more of that power every being wishes to obtain.
Over two weeks since I became what they called an Arrancar, having torn off the mask upon my evolution into a Vasto Lorde. I adjusted to this new humanoid body rather quickly, originally thinking it would take months. The Espada seemed to have others analyzing me carefully. I often see various Arrancars and Hollows eyeing me as I walk by, as though with disgust and a strange sense of curiosity. I'm sure it is their doing. It has been like this ever since I was transformed, although I'm rather curious to the reasoning of this.
It has been another couple of days, or so I believe, unaware of the passing time as the Moonlit Desert always seems to be night and certain areas of Las Noches, there is always a sun shining bright in the artificial sky. I was called before the Espada. Now I'm not one to remember details, but the main gist was that they were slightly impressed by the skills I possessed. It was then that they invited among their ranks. I was given the number 2 as a sign of my strength, a replacement for the previous Segunda before me. I was also given my first assignment. He wanted me to further hone my skills as an Arrancar and master the basics along with something he called a Ressurecion. The way he explained it was when an Arrancar's sword was released, they would take on a new form, often resembling the form they had previously as a Hollow. So it was then I went wandering into the Moonlit Desert once more, not part of a group but in solitude to master the abilities that had been bestowed upon me.
It had been many months now or so I believe. I have mastered the basic Sonido rather quickly, as it seems to come naturally to me. Many of these lesser Hollows can't touch me, the only challenge to me is the occasional encounter of an group of Adjucha. I purposely sought out Menos class Hollows to perfect this Ressureccion. Originally I had just evolved into an Vasto Lorde after devouring the one that my thoughts were consumed with before tearing off my mask. That was when they called me to be in the Espada. This Ressurecion of mine strongly resembles that Vasto Lorde form. The only difference is that there are patches of skin between the bony formations on my knees,elbows,feet and hands. It always reminds me of that day whenever I stumble across a reflection of my Ressurecion. I trained and trained, trying to locate a Hollow of Vasto Lorde status, but they are scarce, so I constantly failed, settling for Gillians and Adjuchas. Over the next six months, I had mastered the form and a few of the abilities that had come with it. I was focusing on modifying my Cero to incorporate these sound based abilities Hopefully, there will be some worthy adversary that will push me to my limit and allow me to seek more of that power every being wishes to obtain.
