Post by hastur on May 27, 2020 0:30:17 GMT -5
-Opening-
Discord/Chatango Username : Hastur
Password 1: [Black Hole]
Password 2: [Moon Pray]
Type: Experienced
Squad: 9
Rank: Captain
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-Basic Information-
Name: Hastur Itani
Age of Death: Born in the Soul Society
Real Age/Age of Appearance: 1500/68
Birthday (Month/Day): January 27th
Blood Type: O Negative
RP Sample (Optional):
-His eye ached as it had once so many moons ago. The time may change and the sun may set on different horizons. But battle scars never changed nor did familiar memories. People came and went yet he remained through it all. He'd stepped on the battlefield time and time ago. The unsinkable man he'd been called before. Someone that simply defied reason or logic. Bringing his pipe to his mouth he inhaled. A soft exhale released a plume of smoke in front of him. Covering the area in front of him in it as he sat down. Covering his shoulders was a Captain's coat. Something about it always felt heavier than most things. It was like walking around with boulders on your back. You represented the best possible members of the Gotei. Your skills and techniques and job was to prepare the next generation. Experience was the teacher of all things. He'd fought many many many battles, so in this way he could be a vessel for the next generation. His skills and styles of combat stood the test of time. Though it was only a matter of time he suspected.
Before someone greater came along, someone who could push him beyond his limits. Killing him and ending his legacy as he wasn't born into any family. His last name was simply a made up one from some words. Itani, he had no kin nor family of his own. His mother died during his birth and his father wasn't around. So survival became the number on priority. Kill or be killed had been the matter of the day in those days. Tapping his pipe on his ash tray he brought it to his mouth again. It seemed he would be going to do some work today as well. Being sent out for a mission, some juvenile delinquents doing something illegal. As always was the case normally the youngsters would handle it. He was old and not often sent out into the field. Standing up his bones cracked as he moved muscles and his body creaking and groaning.
It was something to be old you earned a lot of wisdom in handling situations. Not using a flashstep he walked to the location taking his time. No need to rush or handle things in a sloppy manner. Paperwork would be more of a headache this way. He stepped lightly heading into the clearing now his frame moving. On his waist a zanpakuto hung as he waited for the trouble to appear in the spot. It was another hollow he imagined. Some sort of children caught in somethings web. Though he'd not intended it to be literal he sat down.
Slipping his pipe between his sash next to his sword. He held a gourd full of sake in his hand. In his old age he enjoyed the taste of good rice wine. The simple pleasures of life were easier to enjoy now. He'd not gotten the chance to partake as a younger man. He could hear the footsteps coming towards him and loud screaming. It seemed he wouldn't be able to enjoy his drink today either. Slowly the elderly Shinigami began to rise. His silver eye moving upwards towards his target.
It was a hollow all right, the Rukon Districts tended to get these vermin. "This won't do, chasing children..I'll have you face me instead." His voice came out as a massive burst of spiritual pressure came out. The hollow froze trapped in place by the immense pressure he put out. He brought his hand down drawing his sword slowly. No release was required here as the creature was frozen. One could argue this was a technique in of itself.
Bringing his sword down in a single stroke he divided the creature in two easily. From front to back it fell to the left and right falling idle. Giving his sword an expert flick to send what blood off. He sheathed it before turning to the children. Lightening his tone as he spoke to them. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous you know." He acted like a grandpa to the youngsters before giving them some lollipops and sending them off.
Going back he returned to the barracks to go through his daily routine. This was something that Hastur always did to help the younger members. He was devoted to passing on the future he could to them. Whatever the future may have been. It was a different thing, it was why his back held a tattoo on it. Some people would see it as a strike system where it went one through five. Numbering to the point it reached the end of his spine. It was like marks done from baseball one and the fifth crossed it. These were those he lost in his command, it wasn't a kill count.
That would be far longer he imagined for each life extinguished, this was for the lives he failed to save. A memorial on his body kept in place so as never to forget them. He was due for another one since one hadn't come back. His tone when doing this was always somber. This was how he never forgot the men and women in his Division. What they sacrificed for him and those around him. It wasn't much but it was the least he could do. For being the one to send them to their deaths.
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-Appearance-
Height/Weight: Five Feet and Eleven Inches/One Hundred and Seventy Pounds
Physical Description:
In his youth his hair had been a bright blonde. Almost neon white some people claimed who saw it. His skin and body in the perfect condition from working out. His eyes were both silver in color giving him a strange appearance. He always wore his hair back in a pony tail even in those days. Now that time has robbed him of his age and made him old. His hair is now a white of the elderly gentlemen. His one eye lost to him during a particularly brutal battle.
So an eye patch covers the now blind side of the elderly Shinigami. His muscles that once were wide and covered his entire body. Now were a shrunk form making him appear skinny and more frail. Though the lack of fat on his body has lead to the consideration of skin and bones. He's not what he once was in the physical sense. His hair still tied in a pony tail is white and his beard and mustache of a similar color.
He wears the traditional uniform of any Gotei member though he does have a cane. Something he walks with on occasion to ease his muscles. He doesn't try to move himself quickly anymore or show strength. He instead relies on deception these days. People who believe the old crippled man can't do anything. That is the tool to his survival and strength.
He carries in his belt a smoking pipe and is often seen with Rice Wine. He drinks and smokes freely as his health and age are all that remains for him. His former wife once told him that he would outlive his comrades and her. She was very right though growing old had brought numerous things. Changes to his muscle density and his hair, his physical attributes which used to be strong. Now were failing him in all areas.
His eye was lost in the battle with a rather enthusiastic gentlemen hollow of levels he'd not encountered prior. It had cost him everything and then some to put the creature to the sword. Not an easy mission since most of the people with him died. He crawled back barely alive from that mission. His body is riddled with scars from his head to his toe. Cuts and gruesome injuries cover the body of Hastur. Pain taken from extreme encounters.
Not all enemies were hollows an injury to his chest is from a Quincy arrow. That shot straight into him and left a puncture mark near his throat. He's got more blade scars then any person would imagine. His face is pristine aside from the eye injury delivered by that hollow's bala. His throat holds an injury done by a Shinigami during a time he had to stop them from harming people.
Finally the last article of clothing of important is an item worn over his shoulders. It falls to the back of his feet akin to a cape he wears for all intensive purposes. It has the symbol in Kanji for Itani upon it and a design across it. This is with him constantly like his pipe in this sense.
He never leaves it behind or takes it off unless sleeping or ordered too. He is always prepared to fight with it on or do what he must to defeat those he encounters. To make sure the last thing they see is the name Itani. He has no children left nor wives or the power to bear more heirs. So the last impression on history he can make, is this. By showing people the strength of his clan he hopes that some will join. That he could adopt them into this family.
On his back is the most amazing dedication to those who've died for him or because of him. Not in the sense of killing, but a tattoo is across his back. Going from shoulder to shoulder, four marks and one across them. This was taken for ever person ever who died because of him. Poor judgment or any reason what so ever that he cost someone their life. He cannot bring them back nor can he give their family respect in money or wealth. But he can mark his old flesh with a mark of them and the name of their brothers. Being a memorial of skin for the many men and women she's seen fall. Those he couldn't save were the number that mattered.
For him while it was important to acknowledge the bright and glorious future. We must never forget the past and how it was paved in an almost brutal fashion. The almost insane killing that came from the original days. The loss of life so extreme that it never faded. So for him the fallen would be carried on his back as not just a memory. But to the future he could only walk towards by himself at the moment. Those who died wouldn't be abandoned by this old man.
Their numbers would remain on his back a constant reminder in the mirror standing behind him. Though their number may grow tall and may pass the thousands. He would still stand for them and fight for those who couldn't. He would wield his sword without hesitation for the men and women on his back. Though they were gone it was his job, no his honor to fight for them. To wield what power remained in his elderly body. That was the truth Hastur chose to focus on. To never abandon the follow and guide the living as best he could. To teach them the experience of the old.
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-Personality-
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-Powers-
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