Post by Yaksha Dokuja on Apr 12, 2018 19:50:40 GMT -5
-Opening-
Password 1: Rock Baby Boomers
Password 2: I B Emo
Type: Strategist
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-Basic Information-
Name: Yaksha Dokuja; real name Unknown
Age of Death: 27
Affiliation: None
Number: None
Real Age/Age of Appearance: 2100/30
Birthday (Month/Day): October 30
Blood Type: O-
RP Sample (Optional):
Karakura town's latest library was haunted, and not even the most determined attempts to drive out the specter had worked. For the last two months, anyone entering a particular section of the building had quickly felt uneasy, and reported hearing voices speak to them. It had taken them weeks to take the people seriously, and begin to look into the past of the plot of land; some of them began to look into stories of strange deaths in the area, while still others tried to find out where all of their furniture had come from.
Yaksha had watched from day one, and laughed at their every attempt to make sense of what was going on. They were looking everywhere but the most obvious place, especially given the fact that this reported 'haunting' was always signified by several piles of books, neatly stacked on the floor. No one had ever SEEN the books move, of course Yaksha wouldn't be that obvious, but he always did enjoy watching them try to figure out why one stack had suddenly grown higher, and another lower. People were beginning to fight amongst each other, accusing everyone else of playing tricks on them. Yaksha simply watched, letting all of them bicker like children while he caught up on the infinite amounts of literature he'd missed since he'd passed on.
Finally, desperate for answers, they began to call in psychics from all around the globe. Most of them would walk inside, promptly call the place haunted, and begin to whip up some elaborate story about the ghost living there. Every time, it was a heart-wrenching tale, and every time Yaksha would applaud when it was through, though few of the psychics could tell. Those who did were often uneasy, claiming they were slightly ill, or had somewhere else to be very quickly. None of hem wanted to admit to seeing what they had.
Today in particular, Yaksha was hunched on one of the bookcases, looking down at the people. They had finished calling in psychics, and now they were moving onto full-fledged exorcists. Yaksha couldn't help but be excited to meet one. As soon as the hours of the library started, and people began to file in, Yaksha snatched a few books from the bookcase, beginning to juggle them slowly; people murmured, all whispering to each other about what was causing this. Finally, from the back of the crowd, an assertive voice came through, telling all the people to step aside and let him work. The murmurs grew louder as the juggling stopped, and one particular book floated in the air, only a few feet from the ceiling.
When the exorcist was finally close enough for Yaksha to see, he made sure to spread his mouth open as wide as possible, and reveal all of his jagged, meat-shearing teeth. "Have you ever read this one? I've heard it's a classic. I just can't get into it, but then again I've never liked any of this newer stuff. Give me a good old epic poem." He hefted the book in the air, twirling it lazily between two fingers, and watching the exorcist's expression go blank, and then pale as milk as he backed away, clearly trying not to scream.
"Oh, go on. Tell everyone what you see. I'm sure they'll all agree that you were very compelling. They might even make a movie about it. I wonder who they'd pick to play me~" He brought a clawed finger to his chin, chuckling once more, as he watched the exorcist run out, screaming about some manner of demon.
"Ah, some peace and quiet again. Back to the books, I suppose..."
Yaksha loved the reading, but he had to confess he ended up counting the days between every time a person would actually see him.
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-Appearance-
Height/Weight: 6'9 and 200 pounds
Physical Description: Yaksha has a bipedal form, though he still seems to bring to mind a reptile that has learned to walk on two legs. His face is elongated, forming an almost rounded snout, and his body is very thin and lithe for his size. His mask, if someone were to get close enough to inspect it, would almost have an appearance of overlapping scales. His tongue is long and forked, able to reach several feet away from himself. He also has a tail, four feet long and flexible enough to serve as an additional limb. At a glance he appears quite muscular, and very powerful. He carries himself with a slight slouch, making it hard to tell just how tall he is much of the time.
His limbs are long and gangly, containing relatively small amounts of muscle relative to his torso and tail. They stretch out so far that he's known to have them drag along the ground when he's not paying close attention, and each hand ends in long claws that seem almost like dagger-tips. He rarely uses them aside from intimidation, and even then he prefers to show them rather than actually use them. There are the impression of overlapping scales on his arms as well, but the skin is entirely smooth and shows no sign of flaking or roughness.
Despite his appearance, Yaksha doesn't sound very primal at all. With his return to normal intellect, he has also rediscovered his old voice; a deep, rich tone that instantly puts others at ease, and almost makes it sound like he's a nobleman from a long time back. He frequently wears a thick brown cloak around himself, hiding everything but his face, to ensure that when he is spotted, he doesn't immediately cause a scene. Beneath the cloak, he's sometimes also known to wear poorly tailored suits, often when he's feeling particularly mischievous.
Yaksha's hair manifests itself as a long ponytail, bright green in color. It's held in place with what looks very much like a rubber band made of his own reishi. When he grows angry, his reishi can snap, causing his hair to fall around him, and even making it come to life, lashing around him like a multitudes of snakes.
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-Personality-
Dislikes: Being ignored. One thing Yaksha absolutely can't stand is being treated as if he is insignificant, or useless. He has an intimate understanding of what he can do, and refuses to be sold for less than he's worth.
Zealots. This ties in well with his previous dislike, in that zealots have a way of ignoring all that defies their belief. He has little time to spare for people who can't appreciate the value of dissenting opinions.
Extreme hot or cold. Yaksha is cold-blooded by nature, and even as a human he found himself with little serious defense against the elements. He works hard to hide himself off from the elements of the world, feeling one of the few comforts that he can't do without is protection from the harshness of the world.
Other hollows. Yaksha has no patience for other hollowbreeds, and even less for being treated as one. Yaksha sees himself as a very oddly-shaped human, and while he's willing to fight for his survival, he strives constantly to overcome his own flaws.
Charity. Yaksha believes that the worst thing you can do is treat anything, whether it's as simple as a piece of bread or a piece of information, as if it has no value; giving something away without asking anything in return is the same as spitting in the face of the one who gave it to you in his mind. If you're going to accept a trade of goods or services, to give away what you received without something of equivalent value is simply an insult that can't be overlooked.
Repetition. One of the most difficult things in the world for Yaksha is having to repeat himself, and it's one of the easiest ways to get him in a mood. When he says something, he expects it to spread and he expects it to be appreciated. His word carries weight, and if he finds out that someone didn't spread the word he'll likely have quite a lot to say next time he meets them.
Likes:
The taste of aniseed. There's something infinitely comforting about it for someone like Yaksha, who has spent a large fraction of his life with little solace in this world besides certain foods. The flavor somehow manages to calm him down, even in the most tense of times.
Alcohol. Even as a human this was a great pleasure of his, something he simply couldn't resist turning to. Though he can't find it in himself to actually get drunk, he drinks no small amount.
Humans. Yaksha is quite fond of humans, finding more in common with them than most spirit beings. Yaksha wants little more than to live a simple, basic life where he left off. Barring that, he'll settle for simply being able to make a few good friends.
Climate control. What can be better than choosing your own temperature? Yaksha has nothing but love for the modern technology that allows him to hold such simple control over such an integral part of the world he lives in.
Conversations. While Yaksha himself has very narrow interests and often finds himself feigning interest or zoning in and out, the very act of hearing other people talk is something he wishes more of. There's never anything to discuss with the hollows or shinigami, so perhaps this more than anything else is why he spends so much time in the human world.
Cognitive Dissonance. One of the purest moments of joy in Yaksha's mind is the moment when a person's deeply held beliefs are challenged; whether it's by watching a person be faced with their own hypocrisy or having something you always believed in become discredited, Yaksha lives for the moment when he sees a person's world falling down around them. Perhaps more than anything else, this is why he refuses to move on. There's always someone in the world who needs a dose of harsh reality.
Flaws: Despite his seemingly unshakable appearance, Yaksha is actually a very insecure person; every smile and laugh is a lie, a way to try and get into the heads of others. All of Yaksha's power lies in misdirection and trickery; he can convince people of falsehoods, but he can do very little on his own.
He's also a very frail person physically, unable to take more than a few hits before he falls. He tends to overcome this by avoiding confrontations overall, and relying on trickery or dirty tactics when he's pulled into a fight, but if he's forced to fight fair he's almost always at a disadvantage.
Yaksha also has a bit of an identity crisis; after 500 years, he's found that many of the souls he's eaten don't simply go away. Whether it's a faint tidbit of a memory he can't remember getting, or a name that's always being repeated in his head, parts of every soul he's consumed live on through him, and share the space. It's getting pretty cramped in there.
Despite his dedication, and his determination, Yaksha is also a dramatic soul; he has an overwhelming desire to do things right, and to be remembered for what he does. He'll always choose to do things over the top and flamboyantly when he can, never settling to go un-recognized. He also strives to keep his own identity and whereabouts secret, creating an almost paradoxical desire to be famous and mysterious all at once.
Yaksha's also found that he has developed a temper of sorts, over the years. Any mention of God, or of persecution will quickly make him lose control; he claims that despite being a hollow, he is no better or worse than any other ghost, or even a shinigami. Though he strives to prove this, and works hard to overcome his more bestial nature, he still finds himself backsliding at times. A surefire way to see Yaksha's worst side is to imply that his mere history, rather than his actions, are how he should be judged.
He also has a taste for the finer things in life, though he can't really enjoy them. Rather than simply eating hollows wholesale, he'll pour their bodily fluids into wineglasses, and drink from those. He can typically be tracked by finding the most upscale, most expensive place where humans gather, and waiting there for him to show up. Even dead, a man has to enjoy himself when he can.
Not to mention his sense of humor. Yaksha finds it hard to show a straight face around others, and all too often he'll find himself cracking a joke or making a reference to something he probably shouldn't. His tongue acts before his brain can think, but even worse is that if he thought he'd probably just say it in a more dramatic manner. Yaksha has serious issues being serious. Seriously.
Trust doesn't come easy to a man like Yaksha, and when it does he's not even sure what to do with it. While he wants with all of his heart to be trusted, he still can't trust himself and his own mind. He's seen the damage that delusion has wrought on the world, and he sees it as his duty to strip others of their illusions and their needless heuristics; no matter how badly it hurts, the world needs more people who will suck it up and look at the world with a critical mind. He's just not entirely sure he's one of them. While Yaksha will do everything in his power to make people trust him, once he has it he finds himself doing just about anything he can to push them away. While he believes everyone in the world would be better off if they just took his advice, he doesn't think they would.
Habits: Yaksha has a bad habit of hissing when he's particularly angry or excited. He also has a bad habit for always being snide and overly dramatic. He's also known for lapsing into long monologues about effectively nothing, talking for hours if you don't stop him. He loves the sound of his own voice, and will very rarely miss a chance to talk your ear off.
Yaksha also has a bad habit of putting his life on the line in overly dramatic ways, to make fairly simple points.
Fears: Going through life unnoticed. When he was alive, he was always on the fringes. He existed, he subsisted, but he was never a welcome part of the community. He refused to 'drink the kool aid' as such, and has believed that it was for this reason that his life met an unfortunate end. He now sees it as his duty to free everyone else of the indoctrination of the world.
Dying an insignificant, meaningless death. Yaksha did it once, and he doesn't want to do it again. Yaksha has convinced himself that he is unique among hollows, unique among humans, and unique among all of the world. He's a man that has done things, seen things, and knows things. What right does a great man have to die a pitiful death? When he dies, it'll be a moment people speak of for years to come.
Wasted effort. There's nothing quite so bad as knowing your plans have gone to waste, and for an immortal this can be worse than ever. What is there to do when a hundred years of planning and cultivating simply falls through? All too often Yaksha finds himself just sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the stars to align perfectly so he can just waltz in and get what he wants. Some people choose to rob banks. Yaksha chooses to wait for the day everyone and everything leaves him free to snag what he wants and just walk right out. To have a plan is to let yourself get let down.
Being forgotten. What is worse for an immortal than knowing you've never done anything worth being remembered for? He's been here for a long time, and he likes to believe there are hundreds of things about himself that are simply too incredible to ignore. Perhaps that's why he always tries so hard to make an impression?
Goals: Yaksha wants a network. He wants capital. Yaksha wants to live in a world with himself at the center, and wants to know when he reaches a hand out to pluck at a string, vibrations are made. Yaksha wants friends in high places, and he wants friends with low moral fiber. Yaksha wants to know when someone needs something, his name comes up.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Overall Personality: Yaksha is incredibly sly and deceptive, having managed to survive a very long time on simply being too much trouble to kill. He's not one prone to irrational actions or over the top responses to things, often simply growing snide or degrading when he's tested. He can be charismatic and lie effectively, but seems to have no exceptional grudge against others by race or credo. He believes anyone he can speak to is a person he can sway to his point of view, and he's always willing to wait until proved wrong.
And yet, beneath it all, Yaksha is needy. He is in fact beyond needy, downright dependent. He's survived for centuries, and has no intention of dying soon. And the best way to stay alive is to be neutral. Always neutral. He holds no strong feelings, and he very rarely deals in absolutes. Absolutes are the way people get killed. He's willing to throw away anyone and anything to get ahead and to get in someone's good graces. If killing the old king is what it'll take for the new king to tolerate his existence, he'll drive the knife in himself. One of the reasons so many people have let Yaksha keep surviving is because he is quite simply eager to please, and he's not picky who he's pleased. Having a person who thinks fondly of you is always in your best interests when you're a scavenger.
He's patient as...well, as a snake. He can remain dormant for decades, even centuries if the times call for it, and when he does hold a grudge, it lasts. Yaksha finds no particular solace in being called a hollow, or a monster; he finds he has transcended simple explanations of right and wrong, and that he has managed to create a niche for himself in the human world. Yaksha earnestly believes that he has some worth left, and that no one else has any right to decide the life he lives, or the kind of person he is.
When it comes to fights, Yaksha is an absolute coward, and a trickster. He'll dodge and block and demoralize without ever laying a finger on the enemy, and for good reason. There's not much you can do to a person when you're as weak as Yaksha. But the best way to win a fight is to make sure the other person simply doesn't want it as badly as you. He'll call in favors, he'll blackmail, and as an absolute last resort he'll simply step aside and give the opponent what they want. It's very rare that his death will supersede whatever other things need to be done.
There aren't too many things Yaksha considers important, perhaps because he's lived so long and seen so much. He's simply gotten used to the idea that everyone will betray him eventually, whether it's because they've changed allegiances or he's just become too annoying to tolerate. He holds no ill will to those who betray him, though he'll always find some way to even the score when he can. It's very hard to get him to take things personally, but if you do you can be certain you're about to get your entire world uprooted.
There's a core of firm will beneath it all, though; when he finds something to dedicate himself to, he does with a single-mindedness and an efficiency that is downright scary. Even if it will only be a few decades before his lord is at his throat or he's at theirs, he serves others and protects them with everything at his disposal. He absolutely despises losing people before the appointed time, and if he can see any way at all to keep what he has, he'll take it. There's no cost too high, and there's no line he won't cross if he thinks something is worth his effort. This unfortunately isn't a very common occurrence.
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-Powers-
Fighting Style: Yaksha's fighting style isn't fighting as such, but more like a form of demoralization. He relies on poisons, crippling blows placed in the right places, and a good old combination of straight up unpredictability to get ahead. He doesn't fight so much as drive enemies away from fighting by making it too unappealing an option. Whether by dodging, attacking with sheer ferocity and absolutely no qualms, or picking at his opponent's emotional weaknesses, Yaksha makes it all too easy to abandon a fight.
To put it more simply, Yaksha has little interest in actually fighting for his life, but rather attempts to discourage combat whenever possible. He'll surprise an enemy, plant the seeds of discord in their head, or otherwise placate his enemies to escape a fight alive. He finds most fights unnecessary, and will even outright surrender if he's relatively certain that he's going to lose anyways. Yaksha doesn't expect to win fights, or even survive...he simply wishes to earn his right to live a little longer. He picks off the weak and the inopportune, yet puts absolutely no stock in risking his life for nothing.
However, Yaksha's skill truly comes to shine when he has an ally present; Yaksha has a way of drawing all eyes onto him, of being far too annoying and loud to ignore. He's good at analyzing a situation, and even better at capitalizing on the weaknesses. He makes sure to give his allies the time and opportunities they need to end the fight without getting himself involved. While Yaksha is nearly useless at defending himself, he's quite skilled at turning the tide of a fight when he has the right support on his side.
Overall Ability: Yaksha's ability largely builds from his odd physiology, and his fine control over his reiatsu. He is able to create and manipulate his reaitsu in various ways, often relating to augmenting himself or causing detrimental effects in others. His teeth are often coated with some sort of reaitsu or another, making even a single bite a way to spell defeat. A single nick can force reaitsu into the opponent's body, causing them to react exactly as if they had just been subjected to a very nasty illness.
This is far from the only thing he can do with his reaitsu, though; by covering his body in reaitsu he can create 'scales' that act almost exactly like an arrancar's hierro, or could cause his body to blend in with the environment, making himself far harder to spot. He can effectively manipulate his reaitsu, shrouding different parts of his body to emulate reptiles as he sees fit. Unfortunately, there are very nearly no ways he can use his own reaitsu to harm others; he lacks the destructive or large-scale powers most hollows bring to mind, but he is able to befuddle and confuse his enemies. By controlling where in his body his reaitsu is pooled, he can make himself one of the most annoying and unpredictable enemies to fight.
Techniques: Technique Name: Hell's Bells
Class: 7
Technique Type (Kido, Hollow/Arrancar Technique, Human World Dweller Technique, Other): Hollow
Usable By (Technique is available to which races?): Hollows
Technique Element: Poison
Technique Description and Effects (Explain appearance, powers, and effect): By injecting an opponent with his reiryoku, Yaksha can cause physical or mental discomfort when he bites people. At this point, it's little more than sweating and some mild discomfort, but as he gets more skilled with his reaitsu he may find it easier.
If he so wishes, he can even overcharge it by placing more reaitsu onto his teeth and exhibiting fine control over it while inside the opponent's body. When this is performed, the poison acts as if the user's skill in Poison Resist is one lower than normal provided Yaksha's OS exceeds theirs, and others attempting to remove the poison need a healing expertise superior to Yaksha's Reaitsu Strength. This makes the technique cost reaitsu as if it were one tier higher than normal, as well.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): The user's teeth begin to glow a very bright shade of green, and then he injects the reiryoku covering his teeth into his opponent.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc) It can be very difficult to engage a character in close melee combat, especially for someone like Yaksha. As with all poisons, the target's skill in Poison Resist can reduce the effects quite drastically.
If overcharged, Yaksha is unable to use any other techniques while it's active.
Made By: Yaksha
Reserved? (Yes/No) (Can others use your technique, or just your character?): Yes
Technique Name: Doppibotsu (Shedding Death Technique)
Class: 7
Technique Type (Kido, Hollow/Arrancar Technique, Human World Dweller Technique, Other): Hollow
Usable By (Technique is available to which races?): Hollows
Technique Element: None
Technique Description and Effects (Explain appearance, powers, and effect)[/u] [/b] Any good reptile knows how to run with its tail between its legs-or someone else's, more often-, and Yaksha is hardly any exception. At will, Yaksha may detach any limb from his body, except for his head. This limb is able of moving independently, and can restrain or distract enemies to make for a speedy escape.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): Yaksha needs only to focus a small portion of reaitsu to a limb, and it will neatly pop off with very nearly no trouble. Afterwards, if the limb is not attacked or destroyed within one round, it will spring to life, and attack the nearest target. It's especially useful to escape bindings or similar situations, as well.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc) Yaksha is incapable of growing or in any way having the limb repaired so long as the original exists. A viable way to weaken Yaksha is to simply contain his limbs and let him wear himself down.
Incantation and Effect: None
Made By: Yaksha
Reserved? (Yes/No) (Can others use your technique, or just your character?): Yes
Technique Name: Gross Anatomy
Class: 7
Technique Type (Kido, Hollow/Arrancar Technique, Human World Dweller Technique, Other): Hollow
Usable By (Technique is available to which races?): Hollows
Technique Element: None
Technique Description and Effects (Explain appearance, powers, and effect): As a reptile, Yaksha's body is quite agile and flexible. In fact, it looks for all the world like he has no bones whatsoever. He is capable of contorting into any shape he wishes to avoid an attack, but it often requires great focus and reflexes.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): Yaksha can at will coat his bones in reaitsu, turning them as flexible as plastic while it is active.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc): Yaksha must pay the price for a technique of appropriate rank each post this remains active.
Incantation and Effect:
None
Made By: Yaksha
Reserved? (Yes/No) (Can others use your technique, or just your character?): Yes
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-History-
Birthplace: Rome
Current Residence: None
Memorable Figures: None of note.
History:
TRANSMIT - Initiate the Kubera Signal RECIEVE - Initiate the Jureichi Frequency - WHAT PROFIT A MAN IF HE GAIN HIS SOUL- Initiate the Faustian Protocol - WITNESS - The Outsider.
I have a story, sweetling. Would you care to hear? Of course you would. Your kind likes stories.
A man was born. From his very birth, he was unnatural. He was a strange child, born in strange circumstances. He should never have existed, but the world is full of those things which should have been impossible. Still, if there's one thing the universe hates, it's an anomaly. Things that don't fit into the mold get broken until they do. Yaksha Dokuja was not always Yaksha Dokuja, but he always was.
His father was impotent, his mother distraught. Married off far too young, and to a man who could never give her what she wished for most; a beautiful child. Her husband treated her well, treated her with love and respect. He was a stonemason, good with his hands. He built her a home, and he always did everything he could to please her. The only thing he could not do was sire a child for her. It was also the only thing she resented him for.
Over the years resent turned into desperation, which turned into seething madness. She was a good, Christian woman...and she one day went quite mad. She went to an old place where none were meant to go, a place of so-called demons. The demon had once been a god, and had once been fed quite well. But that is another story. She came, and she prayed in the ways abhorrent to God. She said the words, she went through the routine. She was willing to do whatever it took to have a child to raise as her own.
The deal was struck. She was struck as well, by the appearance of the demon. They had spoken of cloven hooves and horns. Of smooth voices and exceptional masculinity. They had not spoken of white masks or enormous holes that one could fit a hand through. They had not spoken of the pain and the anguish in each word. They had not spoken of hunger. Of mind-wrenching hunger. They had told her she would have cravings when she was pregnant. They did not tell her what she would crave.
Her husband came home one day, but he was not her husband. His rough, calloused hands were not gentle this time. The man she lay down with was not her husband. But she let him; she knew the price that must be paid. She hoped he would never have to know what she had done. In a way, she was right. After that night, he never knew anything again. Her husband passed away moments after copulating with her. Everyone was baffled, but she was shocked beyond belief.
Months passed, and her cravings grew stranger. She ate primarily meat, and often meat that should by all accounts have made her exceptionally sick. She never grew sick. She had always been sick. She gave birth with no trouble, and with no assistance. The child came out like it had been made for it. And from the moment he was born she knew that she could never have what she wanted. Her child was born with skin all too fair, with hair as white as snow. With eyes the most disgusting shade of pink. He never cried, he never whined. He simply looked at her with curiosity.
She left him outside of the church, and she left without ever looking back. She was always the subject of many stories. Some said she killed her husband and was cursed by god. Some said she was a witch who returned to hell. None of them particularly matter. The child matters. He was raised by the Church, to be a god-fearing, church-attending child. He was raised to learn the skills of rhetoric and debate. He was raised to preach to a flock of new converts.
Do you know how hard it is to be an honest God-fearing man when you know the truth, Dear Reader?
He was always an odd child. He had little interest in god and in rhetoric. He had a great interest in the old fables and stories, of mythology wide and profound. He learned of the pagan rituals and the many names of demons. He spoke often of seeing the dead, of seeing black-clad angles and white-clad devils. He was a strange child, and the church shunned strangeness. He was given a life away from the public. A life in the catacombs of old scrolls. A librarian in a place no one wanted to visit.
There were myriad dead in that place, of all shapes and sizes. They were all quite intelligent, and they were all too eager to have someone who could finally be good conversation. Albus, as he had been known- the charming one who possessed no charm, who had never wanted it- was the only link the lingering dead had to their world. And he was always treated as the lowest of the low. Surrounded by brilliant minds, by people who felt themselves too great to fade, Albus sunk into his own illness. He became obsessive. He grew disillusioned, grew tired of hearing the same old stories...and one day he became part of a new one.
A white-clad devil came into the catacombs one night, sniffing for its latest prey. Yaksha was unaware of what to expect, but knew only that being this close to one of those majestic predators sent an electric shock through him. He wondered what it would take to meet one of these things. He began to follow it, his skill in stealth quite laughable. The demon's skill in noticing anything besides its prey even more so. It fled, sated enough for the time. Yaksha's hunger however was soon to become limitless.
He sought any reference to these things he could find. He spoke to every soul he could find, and discovered every detail possible. And he realized all too quickly what it would take to meet one in the flesh. He brought with him one of the eldest, most insufferable of souls. He hoped it would be willing to speak to him for as long as it took. Surprisingly, it took almost no time at all. The white-clad creature barreled into the catacombs, seeking another meal.
This one was not nearly as dim as the last, and realized almost immediately that there were two sets of eyes upon it. Two beings' attention. One was far more appetizing than the other...but far more interesting, as well. It wished to know more about this thing before him. This human who seemed to look at it with such delight...and who seemed to smell so familiar to it. One could dicker for years as to why the beast spared him, but the simple fact is that it did. Not without a scar...a remembrance. The beast burned his entire left cheek beyond recognition. Yaksha saw it as a badge of honor. He had held his first conversation with a hollow, and he had survived.
The problem with greed is that the greedy don't know when to stop. Yaksha studied for another decade, and did everything he could. Finally, he concocted a ritual, using the souls of every lingering being he could find for the bait. It took hours, but he finally succeeded; he drew to him one of the white-clad devils. And he struck a deal of his own. A deal for power and freedom, for a taste of what they could be like.
He followed in his father's footsteps, and this time the act was not nearly so benign. Yaksha rode passenger as he watched his body kill half a dozen people before he was subdued. He felt not even an iota of regret over his decision. Even as he was stoned to death, he smiled. And when his body arose, when he was stared down by the being who had given him this freedom, the being which demanded its payment...he still smiled.
He smiled even as he tore at the chain that connected him to the pitiful human body he had long ago forsaken. He smiled even as the hole ripped open, at a speed that never should've been possible. He smiled as rigor mortis took over, he smiled as the essence of his discarded heart overtook him. And he smiled as he loomed over his would-be creditor. He smiled even as the thing realized that it had been deprived of its easy meal.
It fought savagely, but in the end it simply couldn't subdue the beast. It was as if it had simply been waiting its entire life to become a hollow. It was as if it had been a hollow well before this moment. The fight was never even a fight. Albus died. Yaksha Dokuja lived. And the beast was all too excited to make use of the new opportunity it had been given. It scoured the world, it spread itself wide...and yet for several millenia, the world was simply too small. The souls too pitiful, too spread out. They could never sate his hunger, could never fill the void within him.
Time passes. What is time to us? We stand outside. Yaksha frittered away centuries as an informant to any who would have him. A few would-be kings of the vast hollow desert would arrive to strongarm the serpent into being their adviser. One or two, into their shadowmaster. The truly intelligent didn't attempt to force him at all. There could be no good end for abrogating the will of a cannibal, for chaining a wild beast. There could only be a worse end for tying one's fate to a being well known for betraying trust.
Kings rise, kingdoms persist. In an infinite space, why shouldn't there be infinite kings? And in an endless game of chess, what better piece to be than a pawn? Relative to the life of an immortal, the lapse of judgment it takes for a pawn to ascend to queen is the blink of an eye. And kings fall. Yaksha Dokuja never wished to rule. Kingdoms yet persist, their old bones plain for everyone to see. And always, always, there is need for a wise man in a court of slavering buffoons. And always always, the cycle continues.
It wasn't until the Renaissance that Yaksha could truly feed, and even then it was scant. He ate when he could, gorged when he felt the need. He spread himself across the world, learning as much of he could of the new and fascinating world. The world he wanted to be a part of. The world he had no intention of leaving. He met altogether too much competition, but he had grown good at running and better at lying. Albus had never found any need for rhetoric, but Yaksha Dokuja took to it like a fish to water.
He finally began to settle in to the land of the living. Spiritually aware were no longer a mere pipe dream, no longer the exception to the rule. The process, slow though it was, was perfected and sharpened as time went on. Countless people of the time were illiterate, incompetent, and yet exceptionally good at taking orders. And so the time of witches and warlocks came to be. A time of those who spoke profanities against the world, and a time of veritable feast for a being such as Yaksha. And yet moreso than the souls he consumed, the simple experience of being part of something was infinitely sweeter. Finally a niche was found.
Mankind expands, the world shrinks. Travel becomes a matter of hours rather than days. And the humans grow more clever, their minds expanded as easily as their territory. A man's grasp now exceeds his reach, and both far exceed the influence of a mere ghost of a man. It was centuries ago that Yaksha's influence began its true waning, with those who do meet him finding him little more than a peculiarity, another ghost amongst countless others. And so the angry dead grows angrier, goaded on by a potential eternity of neglect to look forward to.
Speechless mouths open wide in wordless shrieks, and no one listens. Who cares for the mad ramblings of a monster, in a day and age when anyone can pluck out a million monsters from the fabric of history? Now they exist outside of time, too. Yaksha Dokuja is no longer a welcome presence. No longer truly even a spectacle. Now he is little more than a lingering memory, struggling to find relevance.
Password 1: Rock Baby Boomers
Password 2: I B Emo
Type: Strategist
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-Basic Information-
Name: Yaksha Dokuja; real name Unknown
Age of Death: 27
Affiliation: None
Number: None
Real Age/Age of Appearance: 2100/30
Birthday (Month/Day): October 30
Blood Type: O-
RP Sample (Optional):
Karakura town's latest library was haunted, and not even the most determined attempts to drive out the specter had worked. For the last two months, anyone entering a particular section of the building had quickly felt uneasy, and reported hearing voices speak to them. It had taken them weeks to take the people seriously, and begin to look into the past of the plot of land; some of them began to look into stories of strange deaths in the area, while still others tried to find out where all of their furniture had come from.
Yaksha had watched from day one, and laughed at their every attempt to make sense of what was going on. They were looking everywhere but the most obvious place, especially given the fact that this reported 'haunting' was always signified by several piles of books, neatly stacked on the floor. No one had ever SEEN the books move, of course Yaksha wouldn't be that obvious, but he always did enjoy watching them try to figure out why one stack had suddenly grown higher, and another lower. People were beginning to fight amongst each other, accusing everyone else of playing tricks on them. Yaksha simply watched, letting all of them bicker like children while he caught up on the infinite amounts of literature he'd missed since he'd passed on.
Finally, desperate for answers, they began to call in psychics from all around the globe. Most of them would walk inside, promptly call the place haunted, and begin to whip up some elaborate story about the ghost living there. Every time, it was a heart-wrenching tale, and every time Yaksha would applaud when it was through, though few of the psychics could tell. Those who did were often uneasy, claiming they were slightly ill, or had somewhere else to be very quickly. None of hem wanted to admit to seeing what they had.
Today in particular, Yaksha was hunched on one of the bookcases, looking down at the people. They had finished calling in psychics, and now they were moving onto full-fledged exorcists. Yaksha couldn't help but be excited to meet one. As soon as the hours of the library started, and people began to file in, Yaksha snatched a few books from the bookcase, beginning to juggle them slowly; people murmured, all whispering to each other about what was causing this. Finally, from the back of the crowd, an assertive voice came through, telling all the people to step aside and let him work. The murmurs grew louder as the juggling stopped, and one particular book floated in the air, only a few feet from the ceiling.
When the exorcist was finally close enough for Yaksha to see, he made sure to spread his mouth open as wide as possible, and reveal all of his jagged, meat-shearing teeth. "Have you ever read this one? I've heard it's a classic. I just can't get into it, but then again I've never liked any of this newer stuff. Give me a good old epic poem." He hefted the book in the air, twirling it lazily between two fingers, and watching the exorcist's expression go blank, and then pale as milk as he backed away, clearly trying not to scream.
"Oh, go on. Tell everyone what you see. I'm sure they'll all agree that you were very compelling. They might even make a movie about it. I wonder who they'd pick to play me~" He brought a clawed finger to his chin, chuckling once more, as he watched the exorcist run out, screaming about some manner of demon.
"Ah, some peace and quiet again. Back to the books, I suppose..."
Yaksha loved the reading, but he had to confess he ended up counting the days between every time a person would actually see him.
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-Appearance-
Height/Weight: 6'9 and 200 pounds
Physical Description: Yaksha has a bipedal form, though he still seems to bring to mind a reptile that has learned to walk on two legs. His face is elongated, forming an almost rounded snout, and his body is very thin and lithe for his size. His mask, if someone were to get close enough to inspect it, would almost have an appearance of overlapping scales. His tongue is long and forked, able to reach several feet away from himself. He also has a tail, four feet long and flexible enough to serve as an additional limb. At a glance he appears quite muscular, and very powerful. He carries himself with a slight slouch, making it hard to tell just how tall he is much of the time.
His limbs are long and gangly, containing relatively small amounts of muscle relative to his torso and tail. They stretch out so far that he's known to have them drag along the ground when he's not paying close attention, and each hand ends in long claws that seem almost like dagger-tips. He rarely uses them aside from intimidation, and even then he prefers to show them rather than actually use them. There are the impression of overlapping scales on his arms as well, but the skin is entirely smooth and shows no sign of flaking or roughness.
Despite his appearance, Yaksha doesn't sound very primal at all. With his return to normal intellect, he has also rediscovered his old voice; a deep, rich tone that instantly puts others at ease, and almost makes it sound like he's a nobleman from a long time back. He frequently wears a thick brown cloak around himself, hiding everything but his face, to ensure that when he is spotted, he doesn't immediately cause a scene. Beneath the cloak, he's sometimes also known to wear poorly tailored suits, often when he's feeling particularly mischievous.
Yaksha's hair manifests itself as a long ponytail, bright green in color. It's held in place with what looks very much like a rubber band made of his own reishi. When he grows angry, his reishi can snap, causing his hair to fall around him, and even making it come to life, lashing around him like a multitudes of snakes.
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-Personality-
Dislikes: Being ignored. One thing Yaksha absolutely can't stand is being treated as if he is insignificant, or useless. He has an intimate understanding of what he can do, and refuses to be sold for less than he's worth.
Zealots. This ties in well with his previous dislike, in that zealots have a way of ignoring all that defies their belief. He has little time to spare for people who can't appreciate the value of dissenting opinions.
Extreme hot or cold. Yaksha is cold-blooded by nature, and even as a human he found himself with little serious defense against the elements. He works hard to hide himself off from the elements of the world, feeling one of the few comforts that he can't do without is protection from the harshness of the world.
Other hollows. Yaksha has no patience for other hollowbreeds, and even less for being treated as one. Yaksha sees himself as a very oddly-shaped human, and while he's willing to fight for his survival, he strives constantly to overcome his own flaws.
Charity. Yaksha believes that the worst thing you can do is treat anything, whether it's as simple as a piece of bread or a piece of information, as if it has no value; giving something away without asking anything in return is the same as spitting in the face of the one who gave it to you in his mind. If you're going to accept a trade of goods or services, to give away what you received without something of equivalent value is simply an insult that can't be overlooked.
Repetition. One of the most difficult things in the world for Yaksha is having to repeat himself, and it's one of the easiest ways to get him in a mood. When he says something, he expects it to spread and he expects it to be appreciated. His word carries weight, and if he finds out that someone didn't spread the word he'll likely have quite a lot to say next time he meets them.
Likes:
The taste of aniseed. There's something infinitely comforting about it for someone like Yaksha, who has spent a large fraction of his life with little solace in this world besides certain foods. The flavor somehow manages to calm him down, even in the most tense of times.
Alcohol. Even as a human this was a great pleasure of his, something he simply couldn't resist turning to. Though he can't find it in himself to actually get drunk, he drinks no small amount.
Humans. Yaksha is quite fond of humans, finding more in common with them than most spirit beings. Yaksha wants little more than to live a simple, basic life where he left off. Barring that, he'll settle for simply being able to make a few good friends.
Climate control. What can be better than choosing your own temperature? Yaksha has nothing but love for the modern technology that allows him to hold such simple control over such an integral part of the world he lives in.
Conversations. While Yaksha himself has very narrow interests and often finds himself feigning interest or zoning in and out, the very act of hearing other people talk is something he wishes more of. There's never anything to discuss with the hollows or shinigami, so perhaps this more than anything else is why he spends so much time in the human world.
Cognitive Dissonance. One of the purest moments of joy in Yaksha's mind is the moment when a person's deeply held beliefs are challenged; whether it's by watching a person be faced with their own hypocrisy or having something you always believed in become discredited, Yaksha lives for the moment when he sees a person's world falling down around them. Perhaps more than anything else, this is why he refuses to move on. There's always someone in the world who needs a dose of harsh reality.
Flaws: Despite his seemingly unshakable appearance, Yaksha is actually a very insecure person; every smile and laugh is a lie, a way to try and get into the heads of others. All of Yaksha's power lies in misdirection and trickery; he can convince people of falsehoods, but he can do very little on his own.
He's also a very frail person physically, unable to take more than a few hits before he falls. He tends to overcome this by avoiding confrontations overall, and relying on trickery or dirty tactics when he's pulled into a fight, but if he's forced to fight fair he's almost always at a disadvantage.
Yaksha also has a bit of an identity crisis; after 500 years, he's found that many of the souls he's eaten don't simply go away. Whether it's a faint tidbit of a memory he can't remember getting, or a name that's always being repeated in his head, parts of every soul he's consumed live on through him, and share the space. It's getting pretty cramped in there.
Despite his dedication, and his determination, Yaksha is also a dramatic soul; he has an overwhelming desire to do things right, and to be remembered for what he does. He'll always choose to do things over the top and flamboyantly when he can, never settling to go un-recognized. He also strives to keep his own identity and whereabouts secret, creating an almost paradoxical desire to be famous and mysterious all at once.
Yaksha's also found that he has developed a temper of sorts, over the years. Any mention of God, or of persecution will quickly make him lose control; he claims that despite being a hollow, he is no better or worse than any other ghost, or even a shinigami. Though he strives to prove this, and works hard to overcome his more bestial nature, he still finds himself backsliding at times. A surefire way to see Yaksha's worst side is to imply that his mere history, rather than his actions, are how he should be judged.
He also has a taste for the finer things in life, though he can't really enjoy them. Rather than simply eating hollows wholesale, he'll pour their bodily fluids into wineglasses, and drink from those. He can typically be tracked by finding the most upscale, most expensive place where humans gather, and waiting there for him to show up. Even dead, a man has to enjoy himself when he can.
Not to mention his sense of humor. Yaksha finds it hard to show a straight face around others, and all too often he'll find himself cracking a joke or making a reference to something he probably shouldn't. His tongue acts before his brain can think, but even worse is that if he thought he'd probably just say it in a more dramatic manner. Yaksha has serious issues being serious. Seriously.
Trust doesn't come easy to a man like Yaksha, and when it does he's not even sure what to do with it. While he wants with all of his heart to be trusted, he still can't trust himself and his own mind. He's seen the damage that delusion has wrought on the world, and he sees it as his duty to strip others of their illusions and their needless heuristics; no matter how badly it hurts, the world needs more people who will suck it up and look at the world with a critical mind. He's just not entirely sure he's one of them. While Yaksha will do everything in his power to make people trust him, once he has it he finds himself doing just about anything he can to push them away. While he believes everyone in the world would be better off if they just took his advice, he doesn't think they would.
Habits: Yaksha has a bad habit of hissing when he's particularly angry or excited. He also has a bad habit for always being snide and overly dramatic. He's also known for lapsing into long monologues about effectively nothing, talking for hours if you don't stop him. He loves the sound of his own voice, and will very rarely miss a chance to talk your ear off.
Yaksha also has a bad habit of putting his life on the line in overly dramatic ways, to make fairly simple points.
Fears: Going through life unnoticed. When he was alive, he was always on the fringes. He existed, he subsisted, but he was never a welcome part of the community. He refused to 'drink the kool aid' as such, and has believed that it was for this reason that his life met an unfortunate end. He now sees it as his duty to free everyone else of the indoctrination of the world.
Dying an insignificant, meaningless death. Yaksha did it once, and he doesn't want to do it again. Yaksha has convinced himself that he is unique among hollows, unique among humans, and unique among all of the world. He's a man that has done things, seen things, and knows things. What right does a great man have to die a pitiful death? When he dies, it'll be a moment people speak of for years to come.
Wasted effort. There's nothing quite so bad as knowing your plans have gone to waste, and for an immortal this can be worse than ever. What is there to do when a hundred years of planning and cultivating simply falls through? All too often Yaksha finds himself just sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the stars to align perfectly so he can just waltz in and get what he wants. Some people choose to rob banks. Yaksha chooses to wait for the day everyone and everything leaves him free to snag what he wants and just walk right out. To have a plan is to let yourself get let down.
Being forgotten. What is worse for an immortal than knowing you've never done anything worth being remembered for? He's been here for a long time, and he likes to believe there are hundreds of things about himself that are simply too incredible to ignore. Perhaps that's why he always tries so hard to make an impression?
Goals: Yaksha wants a network. He wants capital. Yaksha wants to live in a world with himself at the center, and wants to know when he reaches a hand out to pluck at a string, vibrations are made. Yaksha wants friends in high places, and he wants friends with low moral fiber. Yaksha wants to know when someone needs something, his name comes up.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Overall Personality: Yaksha is incredibly sly and deceptive, having managed to survive a very long time on simply being too much trouble to kill. He's not one prone to irrational actions or over the top responses to things, often simply growing snide or degrading when he's tested. He can be charismatic and lie effectively, but seems to have no exceptional grudge against others by race or credo. He believes anyone he can speak to is a person he can sway to his point of view, and he's always willing to wait until proved wrong.
And yet, beneath it all, Yaksha is needy. He is in fact beyond needy, downright dependent. He's survived for centuries, and has no intention of dying soon. And the best way to stay alive is to be neutral. Always neutral. He holds no strong feelings, and he very rarely deals in absolutes. Absolutes are the way people get killed. He's willing to throw away anyone and anything to get ahead and to get in someone's good graces. If killing the old king is what it'll take for the new king to tolerate his existence, he'll drive the knife in himself. One of the reasons so many people have let Yaksha keep surviving is because he is quite simply eager to please, and he's not picky who he's pleased. Having a person who thinks fondly of you is always in your best interests when you're a scavenger.
He's patient as...well, as a snake. He can remain dormant for decades, even centuries if the times call for it, and when he does hold a grudge, it lasts. Yaksha finds no particular solace in being called a hollow, or a monster; he finds he has transcended simple explanations of right and wrong, and that he has managed to create a niche for himself in the human world. Yaksha earnestly believes that he has some worth left, and that no one else has any right to decide the life he lives, or the kind of person he is.
When it comes to fights, Yaksha is an absolute coward, and a trickster. He'll dodge and block and demoralize without ever laying a finger on the enemy, and for good reason. There's not much you can do to a person when you're as weak as Yaksha. But the best way to win a fight is to make sure the other person simply doesn't want it as badly as you. He'll call in favors, he'll blackmail, and as an absolute last resort he'll simply step aside and give the opponent what they want. It's very rare that his death will supersede whatever other things need to be done.
There aren't too many things Yaksha considers important, perhaps because he's lived so long and seen so much. He's simply gotten used to the idea that everyone will betray him eventually, whether it's because they've changed allegiances or he's just become too annoying to tolerate. He holds no ill will to those who betray him, though he'll always find some way to even the score when he can. It's very hard to get him to take things personally, but if you do you can be certain you're about to get your entire world uprooted.
There's a core of firm will beneath it all, though; when he finds something to dedicate himself to, he does with a single-mindedness and an efficiency that is downright scary. Even if it will only be a few decades before his lord is at his throat or he's at theirs, he serves others and protects them with everything at his disposal. He absolutely despises losing people before the appointed time, and if he can see any way at all to keep what he has, he'll take it. There's no cost too high, and there's no line he won't cross if he thinks something is worth his effort. This unfortunately isn't a very common occurrence.
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-Powers-
Fighting Style: Yaksha's fighting style isn't fighting as such, but more like a form of demoralization. He relies on poisons, crippling blows placed in the right places, and a good old combination of straight up unpredictability to get ahead. He doesn't fight so much as drive enemies away from fighting by making it too unappealing an option. Whether by dodging, attacking with sheer ferocity and absolutely no qualms, or picking at his opponent's emotional weaknesses, Yaksha makes it all too easy to abandon a fight.
To put it more simply, Yaksha has little interest in actually fighting for his life, but rather attempts to discourage combat whenever possible. He'll surprise an enemy, plant the seeds of discord in their head, or otherwise placate his enemies to escape a fight alive. He finds most fights unnecessary, and will even outright surrender if he's relatively certain that he's going to lose anyways. Yaksha doesn't expect to win fights, or even survive...he simply wishes to earn his right to live a little longer. He picks off the weak and the inopportune, yet puts absolutely no stock in risking his life for nothing.
However, Yaksha's skill truly comes to shine when he has an ally present; Yaksha has a way of drawing all eyes onto him, of being far too annoying and loud to ignore. He's good at analyzing a situation, and even better at capitalizing on the weaknesses. He makes sure to give his allies the time and opportunities they need to end the fight without getting himself involved. While Yaksha is nearly useless at defending himself, he's quite skilled at turning the tide of a fight when he has the right support on his side.
Overall Ability: Yaksha's ability largely builds from his odd physiology, and his fine control over his reiatsu. He is able to create and manipulate his reaitsu in various ways, often relating to augmenting himself or causing detrimental effects in others. His teeth are often coated with some sort of reaitsu or another, making even a single bite a way to spell defeat. A single nick can force reaitsu into the opponent's body, causing them to react exactly as if they had just been subjected to a very nasty illness.
This is far from the only thing he can do with his reaitsu, though; by covering his body in reaitsu he can create 'scales' that act almost exactly like an arrancar's hierro, or could cause his body to blend in with the environment, making himself far harder to spot. He can effectively manipulate his reaitsu, shrouding different parts of his body to emulate reptiles as he sees fit. Unfortunately, there are very nearly no ways he can use his own reaitsu to harm others; he lacks the destructive or large-scale powers most hollows bring to mind, but he is able to befuddle and confuse his enemies. By controlling where in his body his reaitsu is pooled, he can make himself one of the most annoying and unpredictable enemies to fight.
Techniques: Technique Name: Hell's Bells
Class: 7
Technique Type (Kido, Hollow/Arrancar Technique, Human World Dweller Technique, Other): Hollow
Usable By (Technique is available to which races?): Hollows
Technique Element: Poison
Technique Description and Effects (Explain appearance, powers, and effect): By injecting an opponent with his reiryoku, Yaksha can cause physical or mental discomfort when he bites people. At this point, it's little more than sweating and some mild discomfort, but as he gets more skilled with his reaitsu he may find it easier.
If he so wishes, he can even overcharge it by placing more reaitsu onto his teeth and exhibiting fine control over it while inside the opponent's body. When this is performed, the poison acts as if the user's skill in Poison Resist is one lower than normal provided Yaksha's OS exceeds theirs, and others attempting to remove the poison need a healing expertise superior to Yaksha's Reaitsu Strength. This makes the technique cost reaitsu as if it were one tier higher than normal, as well.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): The user's teeth begin to glow a very bright shade of green, and then he injects the reiryoku covering his teeth into his opponent.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc) It can be very difficult to engage a character in close melee combat, especially for someone like Yaksha. As with all poisons, the target's skill in Poison Resist can reduce the effects quite drastically.
If overcharged, Yaksha is unable to use any other techniques while it's active.
Made By: Yaksha
Reserved? (Yes/No) (Can others use your technique, or just your character?): Yes
Technique Name: Doppibotsu (Shedding Death Technique)
Class: 7
Technique Type (Kido, Hollow/Arrancar Technique, Human World Dweller Technique, Other): Hollow
Usable By (Technique is available to which races?): Hollows
Technique Element: None
Technique Description and Effects (Explain appearance, powers, and effect)[/u] [/b] Any good reptile knows how to run with its tail between its legs-or someone else's, more often-, and Yaksha is hardly any exception. At will, Yaksha may detach any limb from his body, except for his head. This limb is able of moving independently, and can restrain or distract enemies to make for a speedy escape.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): Yaksha needs only to focus a small portion of reaitsu to a limb, and it will neatly pop off with very nearly no trouble. Afterwards, if the limb is not attacked or destroyed within one round, it will spring to life, and attack the nearest target. It's especially useful to escape bindings or similar situations, as well.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc) Yaksha is incapable of growing or in any way having the limb repaired so long as the original exists. A viable way to weaken Yaksha is to simply contain his limbs and let him wear himself down.
Incantation and Effect: None
Made By: Yaksha
Reserved? (Yes/No) (Can others use your technique, or just your character?): Yes
Technique Name: Gross Anatomy
Class: 7
Technique Type (Kido, Hollow/Arrancar Technique, Human World Dweller Technique, Other): Hollow
Usable By (Technique is available to which races?): Hollows
Technique Element: None
Technique Description and Effects (Explain appearance, powers, and effect): As a reptile, Yaksha's body is quite agile and flexible. In fact, it looks for all the world like he has no bones whatsoever. He is capable of contorting into any shape he wishes to avoid an attack, but it often requires great focus and reflexes.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): Yaksha can at will coat his bones in reaitsu, turning them as flexible as plastic while it is active.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc): Yaksha must pay the price for a technique of appropriate rank each post this remains active.
Incantation and Effect:
None
Made By: Yaksha
Reserved? (Yes/No) (Can others use your technique, or just your character?): Yes
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-History-
Birthplace: Rome
Current Residence: None
Memorable Figures: None of note.
History:
TRANSMIT - Initiate the Kubera Signal RECIEVE - Initiate the Jureichi Frequency - WHAT PROFIT A MAN IF HE GAIN HIS SOUL- Initiate the Faustian Protocol - WITNESS - The Outsider.
I have a story, sweetling. Would you care to hear? Of course you would. Your kind likes stories.
A man was born. From his very birth, he was unnatural. He was a strange child, born in strange circumstances. He should never have existed, but the world is full of those things which should have been impossible. Still, if there's one thing the universe hates, it's an anomaly. Things that don't fit into the mold get broken until they do. Yaksha Dokuja was not always Yaksha Dokuja, but he always was.
His father was impotent, his mother distraught. Married off far too young, and to a man who could never give her what she wished for most; a beautiful child. Her husband treated her well, treated her with love and respect. He was a stonemason, good with his hands. He built her a home, and he always did everything he could to please her. The only thing he could not do was sire a child for her. It was also the only thing she resented him for.
Over the years resent turned into desperation, which turned into seething madness. She was a good, Christian woman...and she one day went quite mad. She went to an old place where none were meant to go, a place of so-called demons. The demon had once been a god, and had once been fed quite well. But that is another story. She came, and she prayed in the ways abhorrent to God. She said the words, she went through the routine. She was willing to do whatever it took to have a child to raise as her own.
The deal was struck. She was struck as well, by the appearance of the demon. They had spoken of cloven hooves and horns. Of smooth voices and exceptional masculinity. They had not spoken of white masks or enormous holes that one could fit a hand through. They had not spoken of the pain and the anguish in each word. They had not spoken of hunger. Of mind-wrenching hunger. They had told her she would have cravings when she was pregnant. They did not tell her what she would crave.
Her husband came home one day, but he was not her husband. His rough, calloused hands were not gentle this time. The man she lay down with was not her husband. But she let him; she knew the price that must be paid. She hoped he would never have to know what she had done. In a way, she was right. After that night, he never knew anything again. Her husband passed away moments after copulating with her. Everyone was baffled, but she was shocked beyond belief.
Months passed, and her cravings grew stranger. She ate primarily meat, and often meat that should by all accounts have made her exceptionally sick. She never grew sick. She had always been sick. She gave birth with no trouble, and with no assistance. The child came out like it had been made for it. And from the moment he was born she knew that she could never have what she wanted. Her child was born with skin all too fair, with hair as white as snow. With eyes the most disgusting shade of pink. He never cried, he never whined. He simply looked at her with curiosity.
She left him outside of the church, and she left without ever looking back. She was always the subject of many stories. Some said she killed her husband and was cursed by god. Some said she was a witch who returned to hell. None of them particularly matter. The child matters. He was raised by the Church, to be a god-fearing, church-attending child. He was raised to learn the skills of rhetoric and debate. He was raised to preach to a flock of new converts.
Do you know how hard it is to be an honest God-fearing man when you know the truth, Dear Reader?
He was always an odd child. He had little interest in god and in rhetoric. He had a great interest in the old fables and stories, of mythology wide and profound. He learned of the pagan rituals and the many names of demons. He spoke often of seeing the dead, of seeing black-clad angles and white-clad devils. He was a strange child, and the church shunned strangeness. He was given a life away from the public. A life in the catacombs of old scrolls. A librarian in a place no one wanted to visit.
There were myriad dead in that place, of all shapes and sizes. They were all quite intelligent, and they were all too eager to have someone who could finally be good conversation. Albus, as he had been known- the charming one who possessed no charm, who had never wanted it- was the only link the lingering dead had to their world. And he was always treated as the lowest of the low. Surrounded by brilliant minds, by people who felt themselves too great to fade, Albus sunk into his own illness. He became obsessive. He grew disillusioned, grew tired of hearing the same old stories...and one day he became part of a new one.
A white-clad devil came into the catacombs one night, sniffing for its latest prey. Yaksha was unaware of what to expect, but knew only that being this close to one of those majestic predators sent an electric shock through him. He wondered what it would take to meet one of these things. He began to follow it, his skill in stealth quite laughable. The demon's skill in noticing anything besides its prey even more so. It fled, sated enough for the time. Yaksha's hunger however was soon to become limitless.
He sought any reference to these things he could find. He spoke to every soul he could find, and discovered every detail possible. And he realized all too quickly what it would take to meet one in the flesh. He brought with him one of the eldest, most insufferable of souls. He hoped it would be willing to speak to him for as long as it took. Surprisingly, it took almost no time at all. The white-clad creature barreled into the catacombs, seeking another meal.
This one was not nearly as dim as the last, and realized almost immediately that there were two sets of eyes upon it. Two beings' attention. One was far more appetizing than the other...but far more interesting, as well. It wished to know more about this thing before him. This human who seemed to look at it with such delight...and who seemed to smell so familiar to it. One could dicker for years as to why the beast spared him, but the simple fact is that it did. Not without a scar...a remembrance. The beast burned his entire left cheek beyond recognition. Yaksha saw it as a badge of honor. He had held his first conversation with a hollow, and he had survived.
The problem with greed is that the greedy don't know when to stop. Yaksha studied for another decade, and did everything he could. Finally, he concocted a ritual, using the souls of every lingering being he could find for the bait. It took hours, but he finally succeeded; he drew to him one of the white-clad devils. And he struck a deal of his own. A deal for power and freedom, for a taste of what they could be like.
He followed in his father's footsteps, and this time the act was not nearly so benign. Yaksha rode passenger as he watched his body kill half a dozen people before he was subdued. He felt not even an iota of regret over his decision. Even as he was stoned to death, he smiled. And when his body arose, when he was stared down by the being who had given him this freedom, the being which demanded its payment...he still smiled.
He smiled even as he tore at the chain that connected him to the pitiful human body he had long ago forsaken. He smiled even as the hole ripped open, at a speed that never should've been possible. He smiled as rigor mortis took over, he smiled as the essence of his discarded heart overtook him. And he smiled as he loomed over his would-be creditor. He smiled even as the thing realized that it had been deprived of its easy meal.
It fought savagely, but in the end it simply couldn't subdue the beast. It was as if it had simply been waiting its entire life to become a hollow. It was as if it had been a hollow well before this moment. The fight was never even a fight. Albus died. Yaksha Dokuja lived. And the beast was all too excited to make use of the new opportunity it had been given. It scoured the world, it spread itself wide...and yet for several millenia, the world was simply too small. The souls too pitiful, too spread out. They could never sate his hunger, could never fill the void within him.
Time passes. What is time to us? We stand outside. Yaksha frittered away centuries as an informant to any who would have him. A few would-be kings of the vast hollow desert would arrive to strongarm the serpent into being their adviser. One or two, into their shadowmaster. The truly intelligent didn't attempt to force him at all. There could be no good end for abrogating the will of a cannibal, for chaining a wild beast. There could only be a worse end for tying one's fate to a being well known for betraying trust.
Kings rise, kingdoms persist. In an infinite space, why shouldn't there be infinite kings? And in an endless game of chess, what better piece to be than a pawn? Relative to the life of an immortal, the lapse of judgment it takes for a pawn to ascend to queen is the blink of an eye. And kings fall. Yaksha Dokuja never wished to rule. Kingdoms yet persist, their old bones plain for everyone to see. And always, always, there is need for a wise man in a court of slavering buffoons. And always always, the cycle continues.
It wasn't until the Renaissance that Yaksha could truly feed, and even then it was scant. He ate when he could, gorged when he felt the need. He spread himself across the world, learning as much of he could of the new and fascinating world. The world he wanted to be a part of. The world he had no intention of leaving. He met altogether too much competition, but he had grown good at running and better at lying. Albus had never found any need for rhetoric, but Yaksha Dokuja took to it like a fish to water.
He finally began to settle in to the land of the living. Spiritually aware were no longer a mere pipe dream, no longer the exception to the rule. The process, slow though it was, was perfected and sharpened as time went on. Countless people of the time were illiterate, incompetent, and yet exceptionally good at taking orders. And so the time of witches and warlocks came to be. A time of those who spoke profanities against the world, and a time of veritable feast for a being such as Yaksha. And yet moreso than the souls he consumed, the simple experience of being part of something was infinitely sweeter. Finally a niche was found.
Mankind expands, the world shrinks. Travel becomes a matter of hours rather than days. And the humans grow more clever, their minds expanded as easily as their territory. A man's grasp now exceeds his reach, and both far exceed the influence of a mere ghost of a man. It was centuries ago that Yaksha's influence began its true waning, with those who do meet him finding him little more than a peculiarity, another ghost amongst countless others. And so the angry dead grows angrier, goaded on by a potential eternity of neglect to look forward to.
Speechless mouths open wide in wordless shrieks, and no one listens. Who cares for the mad ramblings of a monster, in a day and age when anyone can pluck out a million monsters from the fabric of history? Now they exist outside of time, too. Yaksha Dokuja is no longer a welcome presence. No longer truly even a spectacle. Now he is little more than a lingering memory, struggling to find relevance.