Llyr Cuinn
Dec 27, 2010 16:04:08 GMT -8
Post by llyr on Dec 27, 2010 16:04:08 GMT -8
Profile Information
Name: Llyr Cuinn
Gender: Male
Age: 823
Faction: Vizard
Rank: Rogue; Archivist by trade; former Kyubantai Fukutaichō
Reiatsu Color: Pale Goldenrod // Wet Moss (When Masked)
Reiatsu Aura: His is a kind of analytical feeling, like being probed and prodded, indexed and identified. There is an unshakable feeling of being watched intently.
Appearance: Looking almost elderly in his physique, one might assume him enfeebled, but let anyone pray that they should not meet Llyr in combat. The hound stands at a mighty six and a half feet, built in a lean manner, but well-muscled all the same. His frame is sturdy, well-built, like a castle wall, his shoulders the battlements, his feet the stone foundations, his eyes murder holes in the walls from which the arrows of his gaze fly true and straight into the bodies of his enemies. Their green color trails like smoke over all that passes before him, taking in, cataloguing, paying attention to each and every minute detail with impeccable skill. Without baring his flesh, one might mistake him for sleek older creature, but upon seeing his build, one might be persuaded otherwise.
His hair is a silvery white, though not with time. It hangs down in a single tail down his back to his shoulder blades, locks efficiently removed from his vision, but stylistically kept in place by a single red ribbon. His chin, too, sharp and hanging like a horse’s face, bears a thin length of stubble. A long, narrow point of a nose stands at permanent attention between the two smoldering fires of his green eyes, a barren ridge between two embers. It guards the gate to the fortress, his mouth, perpetually carved into the walls of his face as a flat look, like one playing too many rounds of cards such that his appearance had become trapped in the eternal placated stare of boredom.
His clothing appears as the norm would be for a Fukutaichou in the Soul Society, however, a Kyubantai Taichou's haori adorns his shoulders and back, taken from his own division upon his desertion from Seireitei's ranks. He has a fondness for going without any kind of shoes, feeling the earth between his toes, and as such, his attire usually cuts off at his tree-trunk knees. His Zanpakutou is located along his waist but on his back, perpendicular to his spine and at an optimal position for hiding from opponents, allowing him to surprise them with a blade during battle.
Personality: A colossus of a man, quiet but focused, the mind of Llyr Cuinn is forever turning with possibility. His is a mind which studies his opponents, aloof and calculating. Those without strength are without potential. Those without talent are doomed for the chopping block. His specific interest in Spiritually Aware Humans is fair proof of that. His words are few, and blunt when they do make an appearance from his open mouth, snide and derisive. For him, others around him are like clockwork dolls, turning about in a rhythmic and predictable manner. His gargantuan size betrays an immense intellect, his quiet demeanor hiding his quick wit. For Llyr, if one shows no promise, then one is naught but garbage to be tossed aside. He cares little for rank, since only survival matters in the end.
This is not to say that his mind is as devoid of emotion, however, as a robot or a computer. Llyr’s life has been one of betrayal and a lesson in cynicism, so for the man who grew up fighting for the right to speak as equals to his peers, emotion is only hindrance. What he does feel, however, is the utmost respect for those who show some kind of ability to him. He feels a weakness for a child who can stand up for himself, for the woman who shows a strong heart and mind. His walls may come down, but the key to his locked mind lies in proving oneself, not in superficialities. Llyr believes that power is something one is born with, and that power derives from chance, from fate, not from heritage. He takes special interest in those like him, poor in background but strong in body, mind, or heart.
History:
Name: Llyr Cuinn
Gender: Male
Age: 823
Faction: Vizard
Rank: Rogue; Archivist by trade; former Kyubantai Fukutaichō
Reiatsu Color: Pale Goldenrod // Wet Moss (When Masked)
Reiatsu Aura: His is a kind of analytical feeling, like being probed and prodded, indexed and identified. There is an unshakable feeling of being watched intently.
Appearance: Looking almost elderly in his physique, one might assume him enfeebled, but let anyone pray that they should not meet Llyr in combat. The hound stands at a mighty six and a half feet, built in a lean manner, but well-muscled all the same. His frame is sturdy, well-built, like a castle wall, his shoulders the battlements, his feet the stone foundations, his eyes murder holes in the walls from which the arrows of his gaze fly true and straight into the bodies of his enemies. Their green color trails like smoke over all that passes before him, taking in, cataloguing, paying attention to each and every minute detail with impeccable skill. Without baring his flesh, one might mistake him for sleek older creature, but upon seeing his build, one might be persuaded otherwise.
His hair is a silvery white, though not with time. It hangs down in a single tail down his back to his shoulder blades, locks efficiently removed from his vision, but stylistically kept in place by a single red ribbon. His chin, too, sharp and hanging like a horse’s face, bears a thin length of stubble. A long, narrow point of a nose stands at permanent attention between the two smoldering fires of his green eyes, a barren ridge between two embers. It guards the gate to the fortress, his mouth, perpetually carved into the walls of his face as a flat look, like one playing too many rounds of cards such that his appearance had become trapped in the eternal placated stare of boredom.
His clothing appears as the norm would be for a Fukutaichou in the Soul Society, however, a Kyubantai Taichou's haori adorns his shoulders and back, taken from his own division upon his desertion from Seireitei's ranks. He has a fondness for going without any kind of shoes, feeling the earth between his toes, and as such, his attire usually cuts off at his tree-trunk knees. His Zanpakutou is located along his waist but on his back, perpendicular to his spine and at an optimal position for hiding from opponents, allowing him to surprise them with a blade during battle.
Personality: A colossus of a man, quiet but focused, the mind of Llyr Cuinn is forever turning with possibility. His is a mind which studies his opponents, aloof and calculating. Those without strength are without potential. Those without talent are doomed for the chopping block. His specific interest in Spiritually Aware Humans is fair proof of that. His words are few, and blunt when they do make an appearance from his open mouth, snide and derisive. For him, others around him are like clockwork dolls, turning about in a rhythmic and predictable manner. His gargantuan size betrays an immense intellect, his quiet demeanor hiding his quick wit. For Llyr, if one shows no promise, then one is naught but garbage to be tossed aside. He cares little for rank, since only survival matters in the end.
This is not to say that his mind is as devoid of emotion, however, as a robot or a computer. Llyr’s life has been one of betrayal and a lesson in cynicism, so for the man who grew up fighting for the right to speak as equals to his peers, emotion is only hindrance. What he does feel, however, is the utmost respect for those who show some kind of ability to him. He feels a weakness for a child who can stand up for himself, for the woman who shows a strong heart and mind. His walls may come down, but the key to his locked mind lies in proving oneself, not in superficialities. Llyr believes that power is something one is born with, and that power derives from chance, from fate, not from heritage. He takes special interest in those like him, poor in background but strong in body, mind, or heart.
History:
Some believe that absolute strength is not earned. It is inherited. For some, it is their way of life. It is how they maintain order. Those who are strong rise to the top of the ladder quickly. Those without power are doomed to be at the bottom in spite of their efforts. Their heads are bowed low because their births are worthless when compared to those of the monolithic entities who command them. They run in fear from absolute strength when it rears its bestial head. For some, power is life.
This was the sort of idea that a young Llyr was born into. Those who fathered him expected a worthless little child. They expected a weakling like themselves who would continue their line of squatting in filth. They predicted that he would earn no position of importance. He was not a soldier. He would be a mere farmer. “Llyr”, they named him, his family being outsiders in nationality even in death. “Llyr”, meaning “the sea” was their name for the leader of the forces of darkness, of shadows. Such was their existence in the streets of Rukongai, in an area where, by all rights, they should not have occupied. They were a lowly family, making their way through life on the barest of wages, but somehow they survived their meager little existences to father a son, a single son.
Llyr’s early life was harsh; a poor child had been born in the regions of Rukongai where the wealthy made their homes and the powerful roamed the streets. It was all too easy, as Llyr learned quickly, to be beaten into his place. The boys of the streets were educated, could best him in knowledge and wit, were fighters, trained in their martial arts and skilled such that they could bring Llyr to his knees with ease. They were privileged, able to go places Llyr could not, able to purchase items that Llyr could only dream of. What they lacked, however, as Llyr found over time, was absolute strength. Where his parents had naturally fallen into a poor crowd from their births, where the families of his peers had inherited their supreme right to power, Llyr was the exception.
This was the sort of idea that a young Llyr was born into. Those who fathered him expected a worthless little child. They expected a weakling like themselves who would continue their line of squatting in filth. They predicted that he would earn no position of importance. He was not a soldier. He would be a mere farmer. “Llyr”, they named him, his family being outsiders in nationality even in death. “Llyr”, meaning “the sea” was their name for the leader of the forces of darkness, of shadows. Such was their existence in the streets of Rukongai, in an area where, by all rights, they should not have occupied. They were a lowly family, making their way through life on the barest of wages, but somehow they survived their meager little existences to father a son, a single son.
Llyr’s early life was harsh; a poor child had been born in the regions of Rukongai where the wealthy made their homes and the powerful roamed the streets. It was all too easy, as Llyr learned quickly, to be beaten into his place. The boys of the streets were educated, could best him in knowledge and wit, were fighters, trained in their martial arts and skilled such that they could bring Llyr to his knees with ease. They were privileged, able to go places Llyr could not, able to purchase items that Llyr could only dream of. What they lacked, however, as Llyr found over time, was absolute strength. Where his parents had naturally fallen into a poor crowd from their births, where the families of his peers had inherited their supreme right to power, Llyr was the exception.
“Hey, Stoneface, get over here.”
Llyr looked up, knowing the nickname well. He had earned the demeaning nominative as he grew and the other boys saw his development. His face, passive, emotionless, hardened, showed that the boy had learned well the value of silence. In spirit, Llyr was like stone, weathering the tides and biding his time. In physical structure, too, he was like the cliff face. His nose was broad, his eyes like tiny windows into the world. His hair grew matted on his head like black moss. In stature, he towered over other boys, but he was still not aggressive, quiet, unassuming. He let them bring him to his knees, for theirs was a power naturally below his and they would learn one day. They would know the wrath of one who had been born better than they.
As he stood before the smaller child, he held meaty fists to his sides, ready for their verbal abuse that would precede the physical attacks. “Look at him,” one boy jeered. “He thinks he’s better than us because he’s bigger. Well, we know why he’s bigger of course.”
“Yeah,” another piped up, “Because they fatten up pigs with swill.” The boys laughed together, pointing at Llyr’s alien features. “He’s just a pig.” They made noises like swine, taunting him and pushing at his emotions. He kept emotionless, however, stolid and unwavering. “I bet he doesn’t even understand that. Hey, Stoneface, you know you were born on a shit pile, right? You’re nothing but a shit head. That’s all you’ll ever be too, just a shit headed idiot. Does anything even go on up there?” He waved a hand in front of Llyr, but Llyr didn’t move a muscle, didn’t flinch, stayed stock still while their words echoed in his head. They were weaker than him, and he would show them.
“Hey, boys,” a larger one said, still smaller than Llyr, but plenty big enough. “What do you say we teach Stoneface how to be a little more human?” He grabbed at Llyr’s robe, pulling him close. Llyr didn’t resist, didn’t put up a struggle even though the boy’s breath reeked. “Hey, Stoneface, do you know that your mother was a shit head too? Do you know she’s a whore? She gets to live here because she sleeps with the important men. Your dad doesn’t even say anything because he’s too drunk to think straight. And he’s a shit head too!”
Llyr’s hand was clutching the boy’s head in an instant. His mouth opened, a maw of terrifying size. He let out a bestial roar and began to squeeze with intense strength, his vice-like grip beginning to crush the boy’s skull. The boy cried out, but Llyr kept a firm grasp. The other boys took a step towards him, but he let out another mighty roar and they rescinded their advances. The struggle from the boy in Llyr’s hands was futile. It was pathetic. “Hey, hey!” he shouted, trying to push Llyr away.
Then the clenched grip stopped growing tighter, blood streaming down the boy’s face where the pressure had broken blood vessels in his head. Llyr lifted the boy level with his own eyes, and spoke slowly but patiently, the words of a statue, “There are those who are born with strength. There are those who are born with nothing. You are nothing. I am strong.” Then he threw the boy to the ground and spat at the others. No one moved. “None of you are strong. You have not inherited the strength from your families. Go home.”
Llyr looked up, knowing the nickname well. He had earned the demeaning nominative as he grew and the other boys saw his development. His face, passive, emotionless, hardened, showed that the boy had learned well the value of silence. In spirit, Llyr was like stone, weathering the tides and biding his time. In physical structure, too, he was like the cliff face. His nose was broad, his eyes like tiny windows into the world. His hair grew matted on his head like black moss. In stature, he towered over other boys, but he was still not aggressive, quiet, unassuming. He let them bring him to his knees, for theirs was a power naturally below his and they would learn one day. They would know the wrath of one who had been born better than they.
As he stood before the smaller child, he held meaty fists to his sides, ready for their verbal abuse that would precede the physical attacks. “Look at him,” one boy jeered. “He thinks he’s better than us because he’s bigger. Well, we know why he’s bigger of course.”
“Yeah,” another piped up, “Because they fatten up pigs with swill.” The boys laughed together, pointing at Llyr’s alien features. “He’s just a pig.” They made noises like swine, taunting him and pushing at his emotions. He kept emotionless, however, stolid and unwavering. “I bet he doesn’t even understand that. Hey, Stoneface, you know you were born on a shit pile, right? You’re nothing but a shit head. That’s all you’ll ever be too, just a shit headed idiot. Does anything even go on up there?” He waved a hand in front of Llyr, but Llyr didn’t move a muscle, didn’t flinch, stayed stock still while their words echoed in his head. They were weaker than him, and he would show them.
“Hey, boys,” a larger one said, still smaller than Llyr, but plenty big enough. “What do you say we teach Stoneface how to be a little more human?” He grabbed at Llyr’s robe, pulling him close. Llyr didn’t resist, didn’t put up a struggle even though the boy’s breath reeked. “Hey, Stoneface, do you know that your mother was a shit head too? Do you know she’s a whore? She gets to live here because she sleeps with the important men. Your dad doesn’t even say anything because he’s too drunk to think straight. And he’s a shit head too!”
Llyr’s hand was clutching the boy’s head in an instant. His mouth opened, a maw of terrifying size. He let out a bestial roar and began to squeeze with intense strength, his vice-like grip beginning to crush the boy’s skull. The boy cried out, but Llyr kept a firm grasp. The other boys took a step towards him, but he let out another mighty roar and they rescinded their advances. The struggle from the boy in Llyr’s hands was futile. It was pathetic. “Hey, hey!” he shouted, trying to push Llyr away.
Then the clenched grip stopped growing tighter, blood streaming down the boy’s face where the pressure had broken blood vessels in his head. Llyr lifted the boy level with his own eyes, and spoke slowly but patiently, the words of a statue, “There are those who are born with strength. There are those who are born with nothing. You are nothing. I am strong.” Then he threw the boy to the ground and spat at the others. No one moved. “None of you are strong. You have not inherited the strength from your families. Go home.”
Llyr grew older, his body still towering over his peers, but what truly began to shine through was his ability to archive and catalogue everything he saw. Every moment was stored in his massive data storage bank of a mind, every visual, every aural, every sensory stimulus put away into a place where it might be recalled at a later time. It was through this that Llyr caught the attention of those within the ranks of the Shinigami, the protectors of souls, the guardians of Seireitei and Rukongai. They recognized his ability to amass information, but they also recognized a physical strength that was unparalleled by other potential candidates in his region. The key requirement for entry into the Academy for Shinigami that Llyr seemed to be missing was any ability to utilize Reiatsu. The child had shown no sign of prowess before, not even an inkling of power.
Thus, he was dismissed initially as a potential student, despite the elation of his parents at the attention their son was bringing to their household. They desperately sought to rectify this issue, but not having Reiatsu themselves, how were they to know how it came to develop within a soul? How were they to know that, for some, Reiatsu never grew beyond a miniscule portion? They could not, and so their efforts, fruitless as they were, spoiled a relationship with their son that had up until that point, been something quite happy, something trusting and coveted. Danu Cuinn, the father of the then young Llyr, grew dark and brooding as his son’s abilities became wasted in his eyes. He became withdrawn and mysterious, away from his home and family for increasing lengths of time.
One evening, he did not return.
No one could say precisely why Danu vanished that evening, but it was the same evening that the supposed missing fruits of the Cuinn parents’ labors came to bear. The evening was quiet, the rain pouring down the roof tiles and making soft pattering noises on the ground. A single lantern, lit in a room at the edge of the house, burned noiselessly in the cool evening air. The world was isolated by the rain, houses locked into their own microcosms, reflecting the outside world but existing separate and alone. For Llyr, it was a time of peace, and as he sat at the edge of the room, watching the rain shower down mere inches from his face, he felt a sense of contentment. He was relieved that his father had left. It was a truly freeing to know that the pressures of his family, whose sole goal was to place their son at the pinnacle where they could not be.
The rain seemed to come down faster now, and it collected in massive pools around Llyr. Things began to change, it seemed, but it did not frighten the young Cuinn. Here was the world of his mind, of his soul. The water around him coalesced into a great sea, rocks jutting out in various directions. The moon sat huge and glowing in the sky before him, impossibly large for what could be real, casting light so bright, it could have been broad daylight were it not for the pale color and long shadows. The murky water suddenly began to boil at the shoreline, bubbling and frothing with movement. A power began to emanate from the water, a radiance and a beauty that could be felt long before it was seen.
Suddenly, a form rose from the water, a woman garbed in nothing but the skin of a seal. Her face was serene at first, but as she saw the young Cuinn boy, her smile turned to a mischievous grin. “Oh, it looks like the little one finally decided to visit my domain.” She cocked an eyebrow. “What brings you to my little corner of time and space? Oh, wait, this is your corner of time and space too. I apologize.” A bright and effervescent laugh echoed from her mouth bubbling forth like a brook, pouring out like wine from a bottle. “Well, come on, out with it. You want to know who I am, don’t you?”
The young Cuinn nodded, his eyes falling upon her form, drawn to her curves and skin, but then to her face, her golden eyes bright sparks in the dark shadow cast over her face. Her black hair hung about her face like kelp, lying in strings. “You have been here for a long time, haven’t you, waiting for me?”
She laughed that delighted sound again and put a hand to his cheek. “Of course, little land-dweller. You have finally begun to see with more than your eyes. Now, you can begin your explorations truly.”
Thus, he was dismissed initially as a potential student, despite the elation of his parents at the attention their son was bringing to their household. They desperately sought to rectify this issue, but not having Reiatsu themselves, how were they to know how it came to develop within a soul? How were they to know that, for some, Reiatsu never grew beyond a miniscule portion? They could not, and so their efforts, fruitless as they were, spoiled a relationship with their son that had up until that point, been something quite happy, something trusting and coveted. Danu Cuinn, the father of the then young Llyr, grew dark and brooding as his son’s abilities became wasted in his eyes. He became withdrawn and mysterious, away from his home and family for increasing lengths of time.
One evening, he did not return.
No one could say precisely why Danu vanished that evening, but it was the same evening that the supposed missing fruits of the Cuinn parents’ labors came to bear. The evening was quiet, the rain pouring down the roof tiles and making soft pattering noises on the ground. A single lantern, lit in a room at the edge of the house, burned noiselessly in the cool evening air. The world was isolated by the rain, houses locked into their own microcosms, reflecting the outside world but existing separate and alone. For Llyr, it was a time of peace, and as he sat at the edge of the room, watching the rain shower down mere inches from his face, he felt a sense of contentment. He was relieved that his father had left. It was a truly freeing to know that the pressures of his family, whose sole goal was to place their son at the pinnacle where they could not be.
The rain seemed to come down faster now, and it collected in massive pools around Llyr. Things began to change, it seemed, but it did not frighten the young Cuinn. Here was the world of his mind, of his soul. The water around him coalesced into a great sea, rocks jutting out in various directions. The moon sat huge and glowing in the sky before him, impossibly large for what could be real, casting light so bright, it could have been broad daylight were it not for the pale color and long shadows. The murky water suddenly began to boil at the shoreline, bubbling and frothing with movement. A power began to emanate from the water, a radiance and a beauty that could be felt long before it was seen.
Suddenly, a form rose from the water, a woman garbed in nothing but the skin of a seal. Her face was serene at first, but as she saw the young Cuinn boy, her smile turned to a mischievous grin. “Oh, it looks like the little one finally decided to visit my domain.” She cocked an eyebrow. “What brings you to my little corner of time and space? Oh, wait, this is your corner of time and space too. I apologize.” A bright and effervescent laugh echoed from her mouth bubbling forth like a brook, pouring out like wine from a bottle. “Well, come on, out with it. You want to know who I am, don’t you?”
The young Cuinn nodded, his eyes falling upon her form, drawn to her curves and skin, but then to her face, her golden eyes bright sparks in the dark shadow cast over her face. Her black hair hung about her face like kelp, lying in strings. “You have been here for a long time, haven’t you, waiting for me?”
She laughed that delighted sound again and put a hand to his cheek. “Of course, little land-dweller. You have finally begun to see with more than your eyes. Now, you can begin your explorations truly.”
They took him into the Academy, where he trained ceaselessly, studying and sparring with almost impossible endurance. The more they piled on for him to learn, the faster he seemed to pick it up, the more thorough his knowledge. Those years at the academy afforded him few friends his age, but that was never a goal for Llyr, now growing to a mighty and terrifying size. His was a stature to be awed by. His intellect was something to be inspired by, as well, and he could easily have talks at length with his instructors about the theory regarding Reiatsu, having his exposure to the powers of Reiatsu thrust upon him so forcibly.
Then, he learned about the Material world, which all of the souls in Soul Society had originated from at some point and were going to return to someday, should balance work as it should. This began a profound fascination with the human race then. They were so pathetic in strength, usually, but they had numbers like rabbits, so many, and for their immense populations, they could develop at an alarming rate. Their technology had long surpassed that of Soul Society in many regards, while they were still so far behind spiritually. All of their power had been devoted to their physical labor such that their internal development was stunted.
And yet, some were different. They were the ones which caught Llyr’s attention. Those humans who could tap into their Reiatsu, most by natural circumstances, were beyond comprehension. Llyr knew they needed to be studied, but herein lay the issue. Soul Society had long forbid travel to the human realm for their souls so as not to upset the balance of positive and negative spiritual energy in the cosmos, and as such, only those combatting threats to that balance were allowed to visit without some kind of express permission from a higher authority for a special mission. Llyr knew there was more to be found, but the leaders of Soul Society would never permit field investigation like this.
That sort of mission would have required members of the Second Division for espionage, the Twelfth Division for the research aspect, and the Ninth Division, the one that Llyr had been assigned to because of his immense aptitude for collecting knowledge. A lowly unseated member of the Ninth Division would never have the kind of authority with which to found that sort of expedition, and certainly not in any kind of long-term fashion regardless. Even when he rose to a seated position, he gained no more power within his ranking, despite the fact that his superiors were clearly weak-minded security-focused individualists who cared only for protecting their own affairs and not for exploring the world around them. There was but one individual whom Llyr had found any kind of respect for.
Gakushiki Rikou, leader of the Twelfth Division, was a man whom Llyr had found worthy of all praise. This was a man who had worked hard to bring alternative discoveries to the fore. This was a man who had spent his life devoted to developing abilities beyond what the fools of Soul Society possessed. This was a man who had been born with multitudes of power, abilities far beyond anyone before and certainly afterwards. Llyr began to read reports of his findings, having access to nearly all of Soul Society’s archived data, and his awe for the Taichō only grew from there. When the man disappeared from Seireitei into his laboratories for over a year, Llyr sought him out tirelessly, following his research prior to his disappearance and using it as a guide for his own research into the Spiritually Aware Humans he could analyze from within the Seireitei.
Then, he learned about the Material world, which all of the souls in Soul Society had originated from at some point and were going to return to someday, should balance work as it should. This began a profound fascination with the human race then. They were so pathetic in strength, usually, but they had numbers like rabbits, so many, and for their immense populations, they could develop at an alarming rate. Their technology had long surpassed that of Soul Society in many regards, while they were still so far behind spiritually. All of their power had been devoted to their physical labor such that their internal development was stunted.
And yet, some were different. They were the ones which caught Llyr’s attention. Those humans who could tap into their Reiatsu, most by natural circumstances, were beyond comprehension. Llyr knew they needed to be studied, but herein lay the issue. Soul Society had long forbid travel to the human realm for their souls so as not to upset the balance of positive and negative spiritual energy in the cosmos, and as such, only those combatting threats to that balance were allowed to visit without some kind of express permission from a higher authority for a special mission. Llyr knew there was more to be found, but the leaders of Soul Society would never permit field investigation like this.
That sort of mission would have required members of the Second Division for espionage, the Twelfth Division for the research aspect, and the Ninth Division, the one that Llyr had been assigned to because of his immense aptitude for collecting knowledge. A lowly unseated member of the Ninth Division would never have the kind of authority with which to found that sort of expedition, and certainly not in any kind of long-term fashion regardless. Even when he rose to a seated position, he gained no more power within his ranking, despite the fact that his superiors were clearly weak-minded security-focused individualists who cared only for protecting their own affairs and not for exploring the world around them. There was but one individual whom Llyr had found any kind of respect for.
Gakushiki Rikou, leader of the Twelfth Division, was a man whom Llyr had found worthy of all praise. This was a man who had worked hard to bring alternative discoveries to the fore. This was a man who had spent his life devoted to developing abilities beyond what the fools of Soul Society possessed. This was a man who had been born with multitudes of power, abilities far beyond anyone before and certainly afterwards. Llyr began to read reports of his findings, having access to nearly all of Soul Society’s archived data, and his awe for the Taichō only grew from there. When the man disappeared from Seireitei into his laboratories for over a year, Llyr sought him out tirelessly, following his research prior to his disappearance and using it as a guide for his own research into the Spiritually Aware Humans he could analyze from within the Seireitei.
A Fukutaichou when Rikou came out to the rest of Soul Society as something transcending Shinigami, Llyr never once considered the man a traitor. He had brought power to himself, far beyond what had been available with the restrictive guidelines of the Central 46. His methods involving Hollowfication were something Llyr considered despicable as far as end goals, since Hollow were still an embodiment of negative energy, but his research abilities were legendary in the Lieutenant’s mind.
When Rikou was banished, Llyr began to question the society he had worked to improve and enhance these many years. How could they throw away such a man who had given them so much to work for, so much to become? Finally, Llyr understood. Soul Society was composed of weak men, all of them, and even the Fukutaichou’s superior officer, his own Taichou, was just a man who was concerned with keeping the secrets of Soul Society safe. He did not seek to improve. He did not seek to make Shinigami more powerful. He only sought to protect secrets that were made to keep the souls of Rukongai under the Central 46’s iron fist.
This was the prompting that Llyr took as he began to erase records of his own existence, using his immense library of knowledge to ascertain what would lead his superiors after him when he too left Soul Society, but he would not be so open about his escape. That would be foolish given his current abilities. There were Taichō who had much more time to develop their abilities and were currently more powerful than he, though their natural abilities were far from superior. As he destroyed all traces of his existence, he knew that the only thing that would remain for his contemporaries would be the memories of him, which since he lacked friends and associates beyond his work in the Ninth Division, would be minimal.
Thus, the Fukutaichou left Soul Society in secret, forging documents of his permission to go on a solo mission to the Material Realm, greasing palms that would let him leave. He took the Haori of his own Taichō and went on his way, garbing himself in a power that he felt suited him far better than the captain of his division. In the Material World, he found himself a place where he could set up his library of knowledge and begin his studies, but first, he would need to secure his stealthy escape from Soul Society. Thus, he began to seek the honored Vizard.
When Rikou was banished, Llyr began to question the society he had worked to improve and enhance these many years. How could they throw away such a man who had given them so much to work for, so much to become? Finally, Llyr understood. Soul Society was composed of weak men, all of them, and even the Fukutaichou’s superior officer, his own Taichou, was just a man who was concerned with keeping the secrets of Soul Society safe. He did not seek to improve. He did not seek to make Shinigami more powerful. He only sought to protect secrets that were made to keep the souls of Rukongai under the Central 46’s iron fist.
This was the prompting that Llyr took as he began to erase records of his own existence, using his immense library of knowledge to ascertain what would lead his superiors after him when he too left Soul Society, but he would not be so open about his escape. That would be foolish given his current abilities. There were Taichō who had much more time to develop their abilities and were currently more powerful than he, though their natural abilities were far from superior. As he destroyed all traces of his existence, he knew that the only thing that would remain for his contemporaries would be the memories of him, which since he lacked friends and associates beyond his work in the Ninth Division, would be minimal.
Thus, the Fukutaichou left Soul Society in secret, forging documents of his permission to go on a solo mission to the Material Realm, greasing palms that would let him leave. He took the Haori of his own Taichō and went on his way, garbing himself in a power that he felt suited him far better than the captain of his division. In the Material World, he found himself a place where he could set up his library of knowledge and begin his studies, but first, he would need to secure his stealthy escape from Soul Society. Thus, he began to seek the honored Vizard.
