Post by Jack Marshall on Jul 15, 2017 21:51:59 GMT -5
Password: [Guts's Jawline]
Secondary Password: [#Rekt]
Authorizing...
Accessing Database...
Welcome Guest.
Type: [Skilled]
Affiliation: [Uzaki Enterprises]
Rank: [New Hire]
Opening File...
Name: [Jack Marshall]
Age of Death: [27]
Real Age/Age of Appearance: [67/28]
Birthday (Month/Day): [10/03]
Blood Type: [O-]{RP Sample}Walking through the doors of the massive Kawada Manor, Shōkan wasn't quite as awed as all that. The architecture was strange, not the wide as well as tall buildings he was used to, exchanging a bit of width for height to scrape the sky... Reaching a room just past that, Shōkan could see the numerous servants standing there waiting to escort him, as well as a lone man Shōkan could immediately identify as a Kawada. As he turned to bid the pair of shinigami farewell however, Sozen spoke. "Oh, I almost forgot..." Sozen said. "If it's Kuroi that you want, when I defeated him, I spared his life for the Kawada Family to attempt to take. I understand your vendetta is of great importance to you." The building shadow fell over him, and all that was visible was a bright white grin and powerful eyes, "If you'd like lessons on facing him, you know where to find me."
Shōkan would definitely be paying the Squad 6 commander a visit very soon. He would most certainly hold the man to his offer. If swallowing his pride was the price Shōkan had to pay to gain valuable information on his now most hated enemy, he would pay it a thousand times over, rip out his pride and throw it away, filling up the space it left inside with power to burn away the Segunda Espada to ash. With this in mind, as he watched Sozen and Himitsu leave, Shōkan didn't wave or say farewell, instead, he bowed, long and deep. Raising his head, Shōkan felt the automatic doors close behind as he headed towards the the people arrayed before him. They whisked him off to some room in the giant tower, and began running tests on him. Testing his blood, testing his reitsu. Before they even began however, they seemed fairly confident Shōkan was who he said he was.
For one he had the appearance of a Kawada, but the thing that really sealed it was the long black tattoo reaching from his right wrist to the back of his shoulder. The tattoo was that of a stylized phoenix, and it was something only one person in the Kawada Clan could have at a time... The Clan Head. When Shōkan was born, a small phoenix tattoo was placed on his wrist, binding not only to his flesh, but also to his soul. And when he was made clan head, the ceremony served as a catalyst for the tattoo to grow up th elength of his arm. It was so connected to him that it even reacted to his moods and powers, glowing when he was angry or activating his powers. Shōkan supposed that since he was sealed, he was the last clan head to bear this tattoo. You see, their could literally only be one at any point in time, the technique wouldn't accept a new host unless the previous bearer either died or rejected it, and Shōkan had done neither.{Home At Last}
With the tests finally concluded, the servants in the room bowed, and said in unision, "Welcome back, Lord Shōkan." At this, Shōkan simply bowed his own head slightly in acknowledgment. Slowly, the crowd of servants departed, leaving only one. His attire consists of a classic western suit, no overcoat, simply a clean, white silk shit and a black vest, along with a bowtie. He also wears high quality black pants, slacks, and a belt. Shōkan couldn't help but notice that while all of this clothing had formal use, it would be perfectly fine in combat conditions, giving the man a full range of motion. Slowly, the man walked towards Shōkan and bowed deeply, Shōkan asked him "Who are you?" He replied submissively.
"I am Geoffrey Wilcox Lord Shōkan... When you fell form th rift in th esky, it was I that found you, and then took you to Squad 4." Surprisingly, Shōkan recognized the name. It was that of an old family that had served the Kawada for a very long time, long before Shōkan's time even. Shōkan in response to this, bowed to Geoffrey in tunr, surprising him, "Then my thanks must go to you Geoffrey... I owe you a debt." Geoffrey stuttered a bit at this, flattered and embarrased, "O-oh, L-lord Shōkan t-that's not necessary!" Shōkan gave him one fo those charming, claming smiles he was known for, "Of course it is, you saved my life, and I will never forget that Geoffrey." Geoffrey bowed even lower, "Thank you, Lord Shōkan..."
Even as Geoffrey came up out of his bow, another man walked into the room. He was tall, and lightly muscled, just enough to show that he had martial training, but not enough that it would be his specialty. He had long blac hair, pale skin, and perfect posture. From the way he held himself, and the look of his face, Shōkan could immmediately tell that this was on of th esurviving Kawada Clan members. Arrivng in front of Shōkan, he kneeled gently. "Shōkan-sama... Welcome back. My name is Arashi Kawada." Shōkan smiled down at Arashi, beckoning him to rise, while normally this would only be done for the clan head, the situation was a bit extenuating. Technically, Shōkan was still the clan head, but at the same time he wasn't. That, along with his nigh legendary status among his clan caused Arashi to treat him as he might one of the highest members, which Shōkan technically was.
"It is good to be back Arashi..."
One Week Later
Squad 6 Barracks
10 A.M.
It had benn one week since the events that brought Shōkan back to this world began. They had been filled with learning... lots of it. Learning about the history of the past thousand years, paying special attention to recent history. Learning about the different and new races that inhabited the worlds. Specifically, he payed special attention to one race. Arrancars. While Arrancars had existed in Shōkan's time, there was next to no information about them, and it was widely believed that there was only ONE arrancar... Cain. Now he learned that there wasn't just more than one, there was an entire ARMY of arrancars sittign in Hueco Mundo. You can understand how information as large as that might give a man some time needed to adjust.
So after the past week of learning, with so much help from Arashi (Shōkan felt especially indebted to the man, he was exceedingly patient and efficient), Shōkan was ready to visit Squad 6. Entering the illustrius building, Shōkan made his way towards the Captains office. Shōkan had made preparations a week ago, formally requesting an audience with the captain at this date and time, so he was positive Sozen was in there, probably Himitsu as well, now that he considered it. Opening the door and entering the room, Shōkan found Sozen sitting at his desk, presumably doing paperwork of some sort, Shōkan bowed to the man. Actually, calling this movement just a bow, wouldn't do it justice. This was a masterpiece of political and social engineering that had been creatd over hundreds of years of experience as a noble clan head.
The bow displayed was just below that of an equal, recognizing that this was Sozen's territory, but that Shōkan was not subservient to the man. In all honesty, the grace and perfection of it would be noticable to someone of Sozen's stature, considering he had probably mastered political machinations such as this, just as Shōkan had. The introductory greeting out of the way, Shōkan continued on with the semi-ceremony that always took place whenever two nobles of considerable stature met together. At least, it was in his time, nowadays, it was considered only necessary in formal situations. But Shōkan new this, it was all a part of the plan. "Lord Kuchiki, it is good to see you in good health this morning." Giving a gesture of askance, Shōkan continued, "Do you mind if i take a moment of your time, Kuchiki-dono?"
It didn't matter if this was a prearranged meeting, this was simply how these things went between nobles. Sozen knew why Shōkan was here, Shōkan knew that Sozen knew why he was here, yet they went through this charade, not only for tradition, but to read each other. half of the reason for these formal introductions was to read the other noble, the wording, the phrasing, the tone. Massive amounts of information could be deduced by just a few sentences in this way, and it was th eprimary reason they were still done in the first place. For instance, Shōkan refering to Sozen as a Kuchiki first and foremost, and not as a captain, indicated that Shōkan was there as a Kawada, and not as a Shinigami of the Gotei 13. This was just one of many things that could be deduced from this, Sure it wasn't all that important in the end, but until the end, it was of the utmost importance.
After this, Sozen would direct the conversation towards what they both new Shōkan was really there for. Kuroi Naito. Sozen knew why Shōkan was there, he wanted information on Kuroi, from his fihgting style, to his release, to his personality, fears, and skills. Everything could be used in this. Shōkan wasn't stupid, maybe back in his prime he could have faced the Segunda Espada on equal terms, but now? That would be a joke, and not a particularly funny one at that. Shōkan was completely of his own power skills and limitations. No, this ws to gather intel on his opponent. To gather strength, calmly collect his resources, plan his and his clans revenge. Blindly giving into rage was the way of bezerkers and fools, for a person that truly wanted vengeance, they had to be cool, calm and collected.
One had to prepare and plan, to ensure success. Shōkan knew this well, and he would succeed where the others of his clan had failed, because they didn't understand the way Shōkan did, they never would. Because Shōkan was from a different time. A time when the monsters of today were born, he knew how they thought and fought and acted because that was how he thought and fought and acted. he knew because, compared to these Shinigami in today, he was one of those monsters, those freaks of nature who were powerful beyond measure. He simply had to rediscover that power...
Of course, Shōkan wasn't refering to his release. He knew that his zanpakuto spirit, and by extension his Shikai and Bankai, were forever lost to him. What Shōkan was referring to was this new power he had discovered. After Sozen and Himitsu left the Kawada Clan compound, Shōkan had explored his new power extensively. It was exceedingly simple, and yet, overwhelmingly powerful. Usually this made for the best powers, except... The more he tried to control it, the more volatile and destructive it became. This didn't sit well with Shōkan at all.
He didn't trust a power he couldn't control, so as it were, he preffered not to use it unless he needed to. That being said, he wasn't overly opposed to using it if the situation demanded it, he simply wouldn't use it in situations that required finesse, or where allies were nearby. At the moment, the most he could reign the power in, was to reduce it's range, other than that, the more effort he put into it, the more violent and destructive it got, to the point where he left it as it was for the moment.
Accessing File... 'Physical Description'
Height/Weight: [6'1/185 lb]
Physical Report from Recruiting Personel Officer:
The New hire Jack Marshal, is six feet one inchs' tall. Approximately one hundred and eighty five pounds. His skin is tanned, a light caramel coloring. Ethnicity: caucasian. He is physically fit, with broad shoulders and an above average frame. Build his closer to lean than bulky. Eye color: hazelnut. Attire consists of of well worn fatigues, as well as a- rather stylish- hat. his attire is rounded by a pair of brown combat boots. he has a strip of white bandage across his nose, as well as a black eyepatch over his left eye.
3rd Party Description:
Jack isn't a particularly handsome man, his looks are above average I suppose, but he relies on a more rugged charm to get by. He has a slightly too long face, and nose that's been broken at least once. In fact, that is why he wears the white strip you can on him, due to a rather horrific scar disfiguring it. but no, he's not your classic handsome man, he doesn't have noble features, but rather a more common, yet reliable look to him. He'd look right at hime at a bar, and completely out of place in any formal event.
His hair is long, extremely so. He wears it in a single braid that goes down his back, just below his waist, tied by a red ribbon, given to him by Helen. It's a light brown color and well taken care of, surprisingly so given his cluttered attire. his clothes aren't perfectly placed, rather messy actually, he either pulls it off into a rogueish charm, or looks utterly unorganized. One thing you might notice are his many, many pockets. he has pockets for everything, you can never have enough stuff on you in his mind.
He wears old army fatigues, they're actually his fathers from when he served. They aren't up to the military precision in formality however. He wears a red scarf- also given to him by helen to, and I quote "Give him some color".His pants are baggy, and his belt has lots of things attached, mostly different forms of ammunition. His combat boots are comfortable and well worn. They look like they originally might have been a black, but have worn down to a dark brown over the years. They are scuffed up and well traveled.
Jack never served in the army. He is highly trained, far more so than most armed forces veterans, but he never had that formal induction that gives them a stiff spine. His stance is supple, relaxed. He believes in always being flexible in a situation, and being comfortable in your own skin is important in that goal. Another thing you'll find is that he always always is smoking a cigarette, or about to. If he isn't, he's complaining about it. As such, the faint scent of tobacco and old fashion cologne drifts about him. In reality it's not unpleasant at all, despite how it sounds.
And of course, we can't forget the hat. Jack wears a hat, it was his fathers, at all times. It is, like most of his attire, well worn and comfortable. It's an Australian slouch hat, and actually looks quite dashing on him. It's probably the only thing that keeps his rogueish charm in tact. Without it, he'd be just average, maybe even less so because of how cluttered his attire is. Despite his profession, Jack has an easy smile, it's bright and cheerful and by far his best feature. In fact he has many smiles.
Theres the dangerous one, when he knows something you don't, more of a smirk really. Then theres the bright cheerful one he shows to his friends and allies. After that comes the dramatic one, because god damn it if he won't look cool when he has the chance. In reality it generally has the opposite effect, it's always ruined by something or other.
Accessing Psychological Evaluation...
Finds Distasteful:
✯ okay, something i find fucking ridiculous are these so called non-smoking areas what the hell?! you think i tell you to stop doing all the things that find annoying in particular areas? if you don't like me smoking, you can go fuck yourself up your tight sphincter elsewhere. i can't tell you how many times i've had to deck some assholes over this. note, don't try and fuck with the highly trained mercenary.
✯ okay one thing i can't tolerate is racism i never really liked it in the past, i thought it was bigoted and stupid, but after i met Helen, that changed dramatically. how the vandreich have systematically destroyed her people, not to mention the shinigami... well it made me think of the whole thing in a different way. not just bounts, not just spiritual racism. hating and destroying anyone for something they were born with and can't control is disgusting.
Known to Enjoy:
✯ okay, lemme get something straight right now, i don't 'enjoy' smoking. smoking isn't some nice little activity okay? it's my coping mechanism. it's a part of my life. i've been smoking since i was eight years old, and no amount of bitching by anybody is going to make me stop. i smoke when i want, where i want. in fact, if i had my way, you wouldn't ever find me with something flaming sticking out of my mouth.
✯ i don't want you thinking i'm some muscle-headed brute when i say i like to fight okay? it's not that i get off on hurting other people-unless those fuckers deserve it- but, i don't know, theres something about being in the middle of a gunfight, in the middle of some godforsaken piece of land far away from home thats always appealed to me. the adrenaline, the blood pumping through my veins... like, the only times i'm really alive, are if i'm in the middle of a war, i'm with my woman, or i'm smoking a damn fine cigar.
✯ Helen... look do we have to talk about this? it's personal. *sigh* fine, but only because i'm on Uzaki's payroll now. Helen is... she's everything. she's get the stars in her eyes, and her laugh washes away the scars of a lifetime. don't fucking dare call me a poet. she just... she's got this thing about her ya know? it's not thats she's beautiful- though she is, trust me she is- its that... when i'm with her, i don't need anything else. when i'm with her, it fills up that hole inside i guess i've been trying to fill my whole life. is that enough?
✯ now there are all sorts of weapons, don't get me wrong. shinigami like their swords, a lot. i never really bought into that. there are pole-arms and axes, there are all sorts of bows for those van assholes. but for me, theres nothing i'd rather bring with me to a fight than a piece of cold steel in my hands shaped like a gun. my dad always said "don't ever come to a gunfight with a handgun, the caliber of which does not start with a 4" and to this day, i've held true to my old man.
✯
Known Flaws: [Create a list below.]
Recorded Habits: [Create a list below.]
Fears: [Create a list below.]
Stated Goals: [Create a list below.]
Alignment: [Insert Here]
Psychologist Notes: [Insert Here]
Opening File: Evaluated Power Set...
Fighting Style: [Insert Here]
Bakkoto Sealed Appearance: [Insert Here]
Bakkoto Release Appearance: [Insert Here]
Bakkoto Overall Ability: [Insert Here]
Bakkoto Levels: [Insert Here]
Bakkoto Zero Stage: [Insert Here]
Other Techniques:
Accessing Employee Historical Files...
Birthplace: [New Orleans, Louisiana, United States]
Current Residence: [Insert Here]
Persons of Interest: [Insert Here]
Historical File:
i was born in New Orleans, one of the greatest cities in the world. my mother was a stripper on bourbon street, it was the off season for him, he had a month or two to spend his ill gotten gains. he met her at the club she worked at 'Desire'. you can figure out the rest. i never knew her. three months after i was born she overdosed on heroin and i was sent into the wonderful care of the state of louisiana. a more hellish instituion than one might find on earth. i was shuffled around from foster home to foster home for years. i had no one but myself, any attachements i made were quickly broken. i will tell you this much, children are cruel.
to tell you the truth, i can't really blame the little shits i used to room with. there were just as bad off as i was, and quite a few were worse. many found that the ones that were there to care for us were not quite as benevolent as they seemed. that's one thing i can say never happened to me. i grew savvy quick, i didn't have the advantage of a childhood. the first- and last- man to try learned not to fuck with me the hard way. it was the second week i was with them, i was 8 years old at the time, and by this point i had lost all track of how many homes i had been in at this point.
he came in the room that night, he was naked. i heard him climb into the bed next to me. and when he attempted to pat around my front, looking for what i can only assume was my pantsline, he found something a lot colder, and a lot sharper. i had slept with a knife since i was 5 years old, and seen it happen to someone else. my best friend at the time... if someone you've known for two months can be called such. the day that man tried it with me, is the day he lost his manhood. he beat me after for sure i left that home with my ribs, and arms cracked and broken, bruises all over, and three teeth missing.
thankfully they weren't my adult teeth. they grew back. his dick didn't.
When i was 10 my father found me. apparently, he'd been searching since he found out, and had done quite a few bad things to actually get to me, considering his name wasn't on my birth certificate. he was a frenchman, through and through. and probably the most badass man i have ever known to date.
