Post by eramemory on Aug 30, 2009 11:27:31 GMT -5
Name: Era 'Kuroshiya' Memory
Age: Slightly over a millenium old (which~ is considerably young, if you take into account that it was only the Chôhô era -999. True age should be much lesser, due to his warped sense of time because of entering the palace.)
Gender: Male
Personality:
Skill Level: Swordsmanship: Advanced
Skill Level: Shunpou: Intermediate
Skill Level: Hand-to-hand: Advanced
History/Background:
Age: Slightly over a millenium old (which~ is considerably young, if you take into account that it was only the Chôhô era -999. True age should be much lesser, due to his warped sense of time because of entering the palace.)
Gender: Male
Personality:
Some say that Era is like a flowing river.Appearance:
Smooth, calm, pure and sparkling, a source of life born to quench the thirst of others. Era is free-adapting, stubborn and perevering, never stopping at the hardest rocks in its way. Calmness and serenity gives birth to the peace of heart for those who lingers in his presence. Era has a way of talking unto others, eroding away the barriers in their soul like a river carves a rock. But the same river has a current strong, strong enough to sweep any who delves too deep, who falls into its lurking depths. Era in unhesistating, boring down anyone in his path without a moment's pause. A slow destruction is still destruction, perhaps; and for those that falls under the rapids of this man shall be cast down the waterfall.
Some say that Era is like a coin.
A coin has two faces; heads or tails. Neither or better or worse than the other; it is only the perception of postivity and negativity others that see it impose upon such a thing. Era has no alter-ego, no darker self; nor a mirror image; he is as himself, a coin, whole, complete as it is. Neither good nor evil, both kind and harsh. As such a being of such precarious balance, threading the thin line between right and wrong, he is unable to understand fully what others may define as good, other may define as bad. Is allowing a theif to steal for his hungry kids bad? Is allowing the authorities to play mockery over other's life good? There is no right or wrong for Era. Thus, there is no consequences for his actions.
Some say that Era is like a falling leaf.
As it floats to the ground, slow, seemingly lost in its own time, it tells a story of a lifetime, the winds it has weathered, the seasons it has endured, the sun and the rain, the flowers it had sprung.... Era is one of many stories, yet as simple as a yellowing leaf, a hint of its green still on its edges. A leaf both graceful and ready to fade into nothingness...
Some say Era is like a lone wolf that walks the earth.
Born, outcast, thrown into wilderness alone, Era was dejected, forced to live a life of solitary. Teaching oneself to survive on his own, Era learnt to crawl on his own feet, not to depend on others, lest he risk their treachery. Loneliness has becoming a custom to him; no longer to be feared, to be repulsed; on the contrary, the silence and peacefulness it brings is a comforting change from the raging storms of war where the weak is food for the strong.
Some say that Era is like the spark of a fire.
Though it doesn't burns as bright as the star of Mars, nor shines like the omnipotent sun itself, its warmth and reassurance is always a sight welcome, pleasant, company to the lonely traveller and guardian of the cold cellar girl. Era displays a warmth and concern for those around him, his passion and joy a bubbling spring of hotness, eager to light a fire unto another's heart, to share the spark around, even if it is for the brief moment before it disappears. But like the insignifcant spark that starts a wildfire, Era is something that cannot be altogether controlled. Heated fury, burning battlelust and wild, untame rage lines his soul, a flame that cannot be extinguished. Approach him too close, churn the fire one wrong way, and he will raze the world to the ground.
Likes: Music, Relaxing, Fighting
Dislikes:: Vegetables, Being restricted, Annoying things
Era has dark frolicks of hair which fringe covers half his face, and his hair is permanantly uncombed, messy, and wild, unless he's forced to smooth it back or tie it up or something. His skin is pale and seems to recover from tans quickly, no matter how long he had been in sun. His features can be descriped as a cross between tough and gentle, a feminine touch to his face yet a rugged, rough outlook in general. He is of medium body mass, though due to slouching and baggy clothes he likes to wear, he often appears smaller than he really is. His eyes are interestingly red, the shade of which changes and fluctuates according to his emotions; from ruby red to sunset magenta and soft pink even.Hollow Mask:
Era sports a great number of accessories, or some would call bling; mainly because he likes shiny and pretty things, including symbols and ornaments. Among his favourites include a simple, small ashwood cross and a silver pentacale. He also dorns earrings, varying from plain studs to extravagent dangling accessories. As a side note, Era sports a lazy-eyed, half-awake expression most of the time.
H:175cm (abt 5'9") W:60~kg (132lbs)
A simple white mask with a the chinese character for the word 'sha' (kill) on the forehead.Hollow Powers:
Full Body CeroInner Hollow:
Era can use a Cero that encompasses his entire body, creating a destructive rush attack at the enemy at high speeds equal or rivalling a Shunpo. Requires a moderate charging time and takes up quite some energy.
Trinity Break
By coming into extreme close contact with an individual, Era can exert a medley of killing ki , reiatsu and insanity into a person, attacking their inner trinity, which is to say the mind, heart and soul, directly. Does not do any physical damage, but can have an immense impact depending on the level of mental prowess of the foe. An enemy equipped with a strong mental resistance may only be slightly shaken by this, while an odinary human may simply go into a vegetative state.
A formless being, stemming from the remanants of burnt out lifeforce of milleniums of dying galaxies. It appears as dark pools of shapeless dust clouds, yawning into infinity.Zampakuto's name:
Rather a rude and indigested mass:
A lifeless lump, unfashion'd, and unfram'd,
Of jarring seeds; and justly Chaos nam'd.
No sun was lighted up, the world to view;
No moon did yet her blunted horns renew:
Nor yet was Earth suspended in the sky,
Nor pois'd, did on her own foundations lye:
Nor seas about the shores their arms had thrown;
But earth, and air, and water, were in one.
Thus air was void of light, and earth unstable,
And water's dark abyss unnavigable
-Ovid's Metamorphoses
Karas 鴉Zampakuto Spirit:
A dark, phamtomlike bird with eight wings that are torn and tatterred. A crescent scar marks its forehead, and its beak and talons are silver, whilst eyes a clear amber. Extremely large, easily encompassing a large building. Under the shroud of dark feathers are 8 golden feathers on each wing, which shine in the glow of the glass moon.Un-released Zampakuto's Appearance:
Karas does not have many emotions, or perhaps none at all; it simply exists. Its indifference applies to everyone, including its wielder, and tends not to comprehend humane actions, believing that the removal from existance is the only proper way to end an enemy. Being a sword built literally only to kill, it would not hesistate to destroy anyone in its path, even its own wielder.
Instead of a zanpakutou, Karas appears to be a simple wooden rod that spans up to chest length (about 1.45m?). It actually harbors a blade beneath, and cannot be unsheathed unless its name is invoked. The wood is particularly strong and can withstand slashes from metal blades without breaking. Rather than this, when Era fights without releasing his blade, he tends to rely more on his own body.Shikai Release phrase::
大开杀戒,鸦Shikai Appearance::
(Thous shalt kill as thy please, Karas)
Discarding its appearance as just a normal staff, Karas is not a japanese nihonto, and is considered something more unorthodox: a hitokiri bouchou (a sword made for killing- unlike a katana, without a flowery suguha -pattern, rather takes a straight-linear pattern.) The blade itself is, instead of curving as is like most japanese katanas, a fine, straight bladed sword. A sword made purely for efficient killing. The blade of the blade takes on an ominous hue a resonates with an air of calamity when it shines. Does not have any particular beauty to it like most katana. for it is made with the intention to slice, not for beauty nor art.Shikai Abilities::
Karas does not transform into another weapon, gain, elemental powers, throw out a load of massive power or increase the reiatsu or anything flashy like that.Bankai Description:
Instead, Karas's ability is much more simpler and straightforward; the ability to cut better.
The blade of Karas is unbelievably sharp, as is befitting for such a blade made solely for killing. every point is sharpened to the finest layer, and the edge of the blade is sharp enough to cut the skin just by running a finger over its edge. If allowed to drop on the ground with its blade pointed downwards, it will simply sink into the floor to the hilt. In addition, it has a natural ability to dispell off a reiatsu-armor coats, allowing him to penetrate and cut an enemy , even that of a higher level, by disregarding their natural defense.
However, the blade is not all-piercing. Certain items hold a natural resistance to it- Zanpakutou and barrier type Kidou; Vizard masks; Hierro and some Special Artifacts (Human) , though they can still be cut, provided if hit in the same place enough times, and cannot excaped totally unscathed from a single hit.
--Unacheived--Bankai Abilities:
--Unacheived--Skill Level: Kidou: Beginner
Skill Level: Swordsmanship: Advanced
Skill Level: Shunpou: Intermediate
Skill Level: Hand-to-hand: Advanced
History/Background:
It could be said Era never recovered from his blow. From what was once the most doted subject at the Spirit King's side, now descended to a shunned, abandoned being. The betrayal of his 'friends' that had set up his downfall, the loss of the King that had lost trust in him... the orphaned child that had been adopted by the ruler of the Spirit World had been thrown into darkness for the second time in his life.RP Sample:
Without family, without friends, and now without a King to serve, Era wandered the Spirit plain alone, travelling in the circle of the outer villages, searching, searching, searching for something, an excuse to carry on living. A purpose, a cause, a devotion, a sense of existance; but he found none. Yet, when he finally laid down to die....He found that he could not. He would not. Something stubborn yet burned within him; and the unknown of what lay behind death scared him. He lived on, a shell, neither dead nor alive.
But the time came when a chance was yet again opened itself to the boy. By ascending the ranks of the Shinigami, he could try to find the path to a secret, a very much unknown squad in the Goten 13- the Zero Squad, which served under the Spirit King directly. Led on by this fantasy he signed up for the tests, wishing nothing more to return to the King's side by joining the Shinigami. The desire to return, the delusion that he could once again be loved....
He worked hard. He studied some. He failed. He passed. He tried to do his best at every aspect available, yet in many ways he was still unacceptable. Kidou was no go for him, only barely able to cook up a faint excuse for the most basic of spells. Studies were even worse. He hated it, every single second and every page of it, books, papers, tests and all. Soon he was resorting to barely scraping past the tests by cheap methods and solutions, comparing tips with other students how to do just well enough to get by.
His body was his only forte. Physically strong, he showed ability and will to wield a blade, to dance like a shimmerring beam of moonlight in the darkest night. He could fight, fight like a beast, a bull, trampling opponents to the ground underfoot. He wasn't extremely talented, only having a moderate amount of potential; but passion, adeptibility and fierce training made up for it.
Yet even when he had gotten past the Shinigami tests, when he had officially become a Shinigami, he was not appeased. His heart had not opened; and though many people talked to him on aregular basis, they did not hang around with him, for the boy exuded a sense of uncomfortability, which in turn they shunned away from. The broken hole in his heart could not be mended by mere talk alone, and it was such that he became a Shinigami that did not belong to any Squad. Unassigned, an anomaly in the equation. The hole could not be replenished, and no one wanted him. Into deeper despair he fell. He spent some time in the halls of the Squad 5, lounging about, using the care of the Captain there to rest in that temporary home, but even that did not last.
Ironically it was not until he went out to venture, did he discover there was so much more to life. He met and fought Vizards, he learnt and talked to Arrancars, he delved deeper into the Shingami. Life was beautiful, in a way he could not understand, not comprehend... but slowly, step by step, he began to see that there was more to the world then he imagined.
Which eventually led to him consuming Hollows.
With that his powers grew; many days he spent in the silent halls of the dojo, traning, working on his stance; if not he was outside, battling, killing Hollows, eating out of them if he could. Fighting became a way of life. And eventually he progressed to a state, a level where he could even defeat former Vice-Captains, at the expense of a world of injury...
But the world was not meant to be.
A crushing defeat, a madness unfolding within the depths of the Hueco Mundo, a darkness in the forests of Loch Noches... and Era fell once more into a world unparallel. Chaos consumed him, and history laughed at him... until he became one with Chaos itself.
Years. Many years since that fateful day, and Era returned; now newer, stronger, better. Unlike before, he no longer cares for the return to Spirit King, nor is he obessed with a world of desolation. Emotions-laughter, anger, humor, rage- all came naturally to him now. For all the darkness in his heart had broken down, and he had rekindled the light of the world he had found, and together a new color bloomed, a fusion of light and darkness, a man with no sides to turn to, and no past to leave behind. A mask had come to him- the Mask.
And as a Vizard, Era Memory returned with the name the King had given him, returned to see what had the world become yet again...
...How long had it been?
Each day was longer than the last. Every second a millenia of torture, every moment an eternty of pain. There seemed no end in sight; no death, no relief. No rest for the boy.
***
In the early hours of the morning he had trained in the halls of the dojo, the sweat his and his only; for no one else trepassed into the dojo when he was there. The weaker shunned him, in fear of defeat; the stronger depised him, for simply being who he was. For Era challenged all who entered the sacred place with him, never stopping, no exeptions; he'd fight, and fight, fight even if his opponent had fallen to the groun, covered with bruises, fight even when his opponent towered over him, laughing at his broken body. Thus it became a custom to let the young boy- the newly risen Shinigami- to train alone in the wee hours of the morning, undisturbed. The air was always full of chriping crickets and the sound of his swift blade swishing through nothingess.
***
What was it that he sought? And what does he now seek? A meaning, a truth? Pain, eternal and laughing in a callous voice, ripped into him, again and again, like an unbreaking tide...
***
The Hollow now lay beneath his feet, writhing squirming, all but half slain. Era stared at it with a look that might resemble disgust, before ending its life with a finishing blow. There was no remorse, nor pleasure in his actions. It was simply at it was; a killing of another, a ritual of the taking of life he had performed oh too many times. He liked to undertake this missions by himself, for when no one was there to assign any to him, for he was in no Division, and had no rank. He was no one; therefore free will was his to do as he pleased.
But the, why did the pain in his heart linger still?
***
The heaven stretched before me, and I knew it to be a dream. For long had it been since I stood atop the clouds, enjoying the sight of the beautiful world before me. Once again I was reminded of Earth, its lush green forests, its great blue seas. An eternity of beauty lay here, and though its denizens did not know it, they were on paradise itself. And for a moment, so I thought I was, too.
But a dream was a dream, no matter how blessed. Reality was a bitch and I woke myself up, back to a world of crying nightmares.
I had no more dreams from that day on.
***
It had been some time. The young, darkhaired boy lay on the grounds of the forest of Los Noches, his body beaten, batterred...no, torn beyond repair. He was breathing death, slowly, and sooner or later she would come to claim him. Either that, or a Hollow would stumble on him, and he'd become an appetizer. Amusing. Ironic. Despite himself, Era began to laugh- for was it not him he first reversed the tables, feeding upon the damned beings? But today was different. He had once again fallen, and this time he could not find it in him the strength to get back up. It was difficult. It was crazy. It was impossible.
Nothing was impossible
***
Strength. Stronger. Somehow the darkness had tamed him, refined his body, given him strength. The light in his head had fed him the will to endure the madness, giving him the life he desperately needed in this times of despair. He was now facing nothingess, a void; none of that earlier chaos and mayhem and pandemonium. Light and darkness fused as one inside him. Or had he rejected both of them?
Just then, Era realised he was quite very mad.
***
Era looked upon the world he had reminisced for so many years. He saw the madness, the chaos that had befallen it; and he looked through that to see the beauty that lay hidden within. His eyes penetrated that too, and below the beauty was an earth of darkness adn rot, fertiliser for the beauty of the world. And further below was a spring untouched, undirtied, one so pure it could make one cry to look at it.
Destruction. Restoration. Ugliness. Beauty. Death and Life again. It was all a cycle, to be repeated, a karma to be fufilled. A promise once upon a wishing star.
And now Era returned to walk the earth. He was unlike before. He was stronger, better; his life had malleaded the boy into something altogether different, and forged a soul hard as iron, stronger than steel. He was now ready to return to this world, Mask in hand, the power he had received in his grasp, to climb to newer heights and further his insanity.
One emotion now played over Era Memory
***
I smiled.
山重水复疑无路，柳暗花明又一村．
((Notes: This is totally the same as my old profile, save for the Shikai, which i have remodelled completely, since the other was damned hard to use. I hope this is possible, as I have not taken part in any real fighting yet.
Link to old prof: bleach200.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=origchar&action=display&thread=6218))
