Bleach Story RPG
Hello, guest!

Welcome to Bleach Story. We hope that you enjoy your stay here. If you are not already a member, please REGISTER. If you are a lucky member, then please log in below.

Thank you.
Welcome to Bleach Story RPG
An alternative universe Bleach Roleplay Forum, where you can create your own RP character, login here - otherwise create an account now!

You are not connected. Please login or register

View previous topic View next topic Go down  Message [Page 1 of 1]

#1 Irseile, A Former Kenpachi [Shinigami-WIP] on Tue Jan 24, 2017 11:39 am




Name: Iseole Mazi
Epithets: Blood Moon, Kenpachi (former)
Age: late-twenties
True Age: 350+
Sex: Male
Personality: [Describe how your character acts and thinks in general. Be descriptive]


Height: [How tall is your character]
Weight: [How much does your character weigh]
Physical Traits: [What do they look like? Face, skin color, etc. Pictures are acceptable.]
Clothing: [What does your character wear]
Accessories: [What do they carry with them excluding their zanpakuto. Jewelry, hats, etc. Some accessories may have to be approved in the equipment bored]


General Fighting Style:[Everyone has a general fighting style. What is your characters?]
Strengths: [What are your characters strengths in terms of kidou, shunpo, zanjutsu, etc?]
Weaknesses: [What are your characters weaknesses in terms of kidou, shunpo, zanjutsu, etc?]


Sealed Appearance: [What does your zanpakuto look like sealed]


Call Out Command: [What do you have to say to activate your shikai]
Appearance: [What does your shikai look like]
Abilities: [What powers do you gain]
Boosts: [Increases in your character's physical capabilities. Speed, Strength, Stamina, etc.]


New Name: [What's your zanpakuto's new name? Ex: Tensa Zangetsu, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi, etc.]
Appearance: [What does your bankai look like? Character appearance changes, weapon changes, etc.]
Abilities: [What abilities does your character gain]
Boosts: [Increases in your character's physical capabilities. Speed, Strength, Stamina, etc.]


Background: The Meng family was taken from the female counterpart, despite chinese tradition. Meng Iseole’s father was an unknown vagrant from a "distant land", supposedly raised by a sect brought about by the underground martial revolution when the adamant existence of assorted spiritual beings, for a moment, was once more revealed to the public--a time scorched black and indiscernible due to the Gotei's efforts in aims to tear down the societies which imbalanced the spiritual realms.

His lacking surname thus turned into Iseole's direct family going by his mother’s surname; that being, his direct family only comprised of his mother and himself. He was to have an older sister had it not been for her mother’s miscarriage. He would also include his father had it not been for his disappearance during Momma-Meng’s pregnancy.

Though it sounded like he had a lonely and tragic background, it wasn’t too impacting in his development. His mother came from a decent family that could support her during her maternity leave from work, and as an educator, she already had a plethora of experiences dealing with children. By no means did she have an easy time, but Iseole's childhood wasn’t lacking, especially since the gap of a father didn’t exist in his heart. Just having his mother and companions was enough to fulfill his social desires and familial love.

Not having a father, Iseole developed an independent personality early on, and at the age of a toddler he was already going off on his own to play with the neighborhood kids. Considering his mother’s family being of a decent financial class, the area he lived in was well off enough for the family to be comfortable with his tendency to scurry off on his own.

The one crucial thing he gained from not having a father-figure in his life was a sense of praise for who his father was. Iseole didn’t really desire his father’s presence, as his mother alone kept him content, but he did enjoy hearing stories of him, and seeing the look of gleeful nostalgia on his mother’s face. Like her, Iseole's father was also a teacher, but not in an academic sense.

Being raised from a school risen from the phoenix-ashes of the Martial Revolution in China, where the country went back to their roots of practicing the belief of Chi and relative culture--to include medicine, philosophy, and the ever-popular martial arts--Iseole's father was well-versed in Martial Arts, and his proficiency was well known on a provincial level. Although Iseole didn’t inherit his father’s talent with spiritual energy, then-dubbed 'Chi', who was said to join the ranks of grandmasters had he the opportunity to reach his full potential, the boy had the same interest for martial arts of all kinds, and a surprising talent for it.

From as early as the first story of his father Iseole could recall, the youth pushed his mother for enrollment into classes. Seeing the flames of passion alight in his eyes reminiscent of her husband, she didn’t have the heart to deny him. From thereon, he was devoted to the practice. It was extremely disappointing when the instructors of the school he enrolled in discovered his potential to utilise chi was without presence, a birth-defect known as 凡人氣數體質 (Fánrén Qìshu TǐZhí), or “Mortal Fate Constitution” by their words. This naturally affected a person’s overall physique, to include a general weakness of body. Of course like many physical deficiencies that only went to the extent of weakening and not total disability, this could be worked around, and the hereditary passion for martial arts was enough for Meng Iseole to drive on down his path for greatness.

Despite his birth-defect, through hard training he was able to overcome a naturally weak physique, to a standard where had he been capable of wielding Chi, his school might have made specific investments into him. In fact, removing his tuition to learn from the school was already fairly gracious, but understandable considering not only the respect his father garnered, but the natural talent he displayed. Adept in body-control from the very start, Iseole easily grasped the techniques he was taught, able to perfectly execute each movement with such fluidity, after only several dozens of repetitions, he could be considered to have mastered the movement portion of the technique. The only thing the youth needed to work on was putting adequate strength and speed into his techniques, an inhibitor brought about by his Mortal Fate Constitution.

It was around his early teens that Iseole started to become competitive with his Martial Arts. Of course, he only participated in tournaments for non-chi users, or ones entirely focused on displaying technique over power. While he couldn’t compete with many of the participants strength and speed, Iseole's techniques were sufficient to put him at par with them. Furthermore, the more he fought in these tournaments, the more refined these movements became, the steady and lightweight inducing the feeling of fighting in water for his opponents. He diverted their offenses and simultaneously responded, linking together what he was taught as if it were a dance. In fact, amongst the younger generation, Iseole started to develop a name for himself: “The Little Dragon”, in reference to the relations between chinese dragons and their sovereignty over the seas. The friends he made through martial arts after witnessing the fluidity of his technique called him “Kanghui”, in reference to the Water Diety “Gònggōng”. Of course, it was only a nickname to pair with Iseole's ambition which he normally kept lowkey, only revealing hints through his fighting.

The nickname of “The Little Dragon” became more durable as Iseole's craving for improvement brought him to other schools. Most initially didn’t allow him to learn under them for reasons of loyalty, and purity of inheritance, but Iseole's obsessions brought him to stand at their doors or atop their walls, observing the schools’ students from afar and mimicking them, inherently leading to essentially learning from these schools anyways. His forcefulness caused some schools to resign and bring them into the walls, some curious and fascinated by this sort of genius, others reluctant but unable to bear the awkwardness. Some schools still denied him access, to which Iseole approached their departing students and requesting a duel.

In thanks to his inborn physique and focus on technique, usually they ended up unscathed, having a safe and proper spar. But, the best way to improve one’s martial arts were through experience in combat; that being said, many times Iseole got carried away, intoxicated by the feeling of improvement even mid-fight, eventually leading to his loss of self-control, in the end harming his opponent. The first few times, it was just a hit slightly too hard, some bruises and at most a concussion. Things became an issue when he started to knockout his opponents, break limbs and ribs, and most drastic of all was put his opponent into a coma.

This event was where the name “Little Dragon” truly stuck, as he didn’t just display fluidity of melded techniques like he was the ruler of the seas, but the domineering aggression of a true dragon. This made many schools begin to grow wary of Iseole as a threat, one who followed a darker path in the pursuit of power. To an extent, they weren’t wrong, and recognition of the fact caused Iseole to seriously consider his obsessions. As a child, he simply wanted to follow in the ethereal silhouette of his father. Unaware of when it happened, evidently the boy deviated from his father’s footsteps, and for that he felt great shame. At least, these were Iseole's thoughts on the matter.

Iseole's mother was naturally doting, but not without sensibility. After hearing of his antics that finally went too far, she severely punished him; it was the first time Iseole's mother ever hit him. For a moment, it drew out from within an anger he never experienced before. The “Little Dragon” was a fairly happy person, not without his own moments of anger, but never before had he experienced this level of rage. The hardships of his life, to include a weak constitution and missing parent, resulted in Iseole being spoiled, which partially contributed to his usual happy and content personality. Sure, he was confident, but not to the extent of arrogance thanks to the discipline instilled in him by his school, and the focus of morals his school-teaching mother taught him. But, the steady increase of consistent success slowly bore a demon within him, and Iseole developed a superiority complex. So, for the first time in a long while, for him to be put down and punished by his mother? He felt it all too unreasonable! Iseole was already undergoing self-reflection, thinking it sufficient that he put an introspective effort to correct himself, but for someone else to give him correction? Perhaps in the Little Dragon’s heart, he was the only one qualified to make demands of himself.

The boy’s response was, like any other time someone hit him, to hit back. Of course, after seeing his mother on the floor, holding her cheek in astonishment from her own son’s actions, Iseole felt clarity return to him. His first thought was absolute horror--he just attacked his own mother! What unfilial son would ever dare? She was so good to him, and that introspection of his wrongs constantly bore down on him. A sense of confusion hit Jikun like waves, and the only thing he could do was run away. Run far away, like his life depended on it.

The next thing he could recall was sitting in an alleyway near a martial arts sect--the one his father attended. He sat in fetal position, mind blank. After clarity once more returned, he realised where he was, and thought about his previous actions. Once more going into introspection, Jikun entertained the thought that maybe he ran to the sect as a way to run to his father’s house. Was it to pay repentance and apology for his actions? He wasn’t sure. There were too many thoughts going on in his head at the moment. Iseole felt like evil-incarnate, and that returning home wasn’t an option. He couldn’t go to his school either due to the issue of his aggressions towards students of other schools. Even if he was their technique prodigy, these actions couldn’t go unpunished, and the boy was made aware that they were contemplating his severance from his school. The two places he was most comfortable with, that he considered home--he could return to neither. A sense of isolation filled his heart, causing a presence deep within to rise.

Several hours into the night passed with Iseole hugging his knees in the alleyway. The fog in his eyes cleared only when he heard a voice on the other-side of this sect’s walls.

“Clearly, the defvil found way through the Mengs and embedded this virus. Likely, the monster comes from within his blood.”

“So, are we then in agreement that this devil needs extinguishing?”

The contents of this discussion were shocking to say the least. Several questions swam around, the never-ending stream of thoughts ending only with the next statement.

“Then, if it is indeed a purging of evidence, to include this Little Dragon, the Mengs must be exterminated.”

An intense shock impacted Iseole hard enough to make him actually throw-up. ‘Exterminated’? He knew the meaning, but found a hard time processing what he just heard, let alone believing it to be reality. It was only until he heard no more of the conversation that he realised they must have departed. And, where else would they have gone besides the Meng family’s home? Forcing down the nausea, Iseole put strength into his legs and ran, even faster than when he first departed. As these people said “Meng Family”, Iseole assumed they would first come to the home of his grandparents.

Upon arriving, Iseole barged straight through the front-door, breaking it with some newfound strength. The feel of relief washed through the boy, as his grandmother was currently looking at the entrance with astonishment and confusion, and soon after anger for the broken door; however, before she could even berate Iseole, the realisation that there was still his mother’s house put him into a panic, and once more he rushed out in mania.

This time, his worst nightmares truly came to fruition. His mother’s still body was so peaceful looking, seemingly frailer than even Iseole before his dedication to martial arts. She was light-skinned to begin with, but holding her limp body in his arms, this tone was a bloodless pale. And, for whatever reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to deny this event. Iseolecouldn’t convince himself it was a dream, or that the surreal experience was through any method an illusion, some fake instance. His mouth tasted rotten, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was still holding his mother, Iseole may have just thrown-up once more. The taste wasn’t just from shock, but self-disgust for how calm he was. He invited the creeping feeling of apathy so that the pain bearing down on his chest could subside, but the fact that he was gradually losing feeling felt inhumane.

“So the demon's spawn is here.”

Two older men came from the next room over. Iseole didn’t recognise them, but their clothes were clearly from the sect of his father.

“Like your father, only desire for destruction and suffering exudes. If only you didn’t have to bear such demons, you wouldn’t have gone down the path of a devil, willingly striking fellow practitioners in the pursuit of power. Otherwise, we could spare the you and witness the rise of an unparalleled genius. Truly a pity.”

The elder’s eyes were old and their colour faded, but his stare was sharp enough to cause the sensation of a blade piercing through Iseole, straight into his heart to gaze at something that wasn’t the boy. With a look of nostalgia followed by disappointment, the other man gave out a grievous sigh before raising his hand.

Iseole had seen chi used before, and immediately responded to this motion. Placing his mother back down, Iseole jumped directly towards the elder, and albeit slow, his palm strike connected and moved the elder’s arm to point straight up to the sky. A faint light shot out from the elder’s palm. It may have been translucent, but even in Iseole's powerless state, he could sense the sheer condensed power emanating from the elder’s hand.

Their astonishment couldn’t be contained and the elders’ eyes widened. They had to bear in mind, whilst Iseole was known for his impeccable technique and flow, they were still ancient and experienced cultivators, their senses and reflexes enhanced by a supernatural force. So, for them to be unable to react to this youngster’s movement--their exasperation was well deserved. Even without the ability to use Chi, the level of perfection Iseole's execution of technique reached was enough to seemingly cause physical phenomena, to the point that the elder’s attack was successfully countered.

At this moment, although Iseole still retained control of himself, it was like instinct that his reactive defense flowed from a counter into an offensive. His other hand motion to palm-strike his target in the chest, but the experienced and battle-hardened elder was still capable of reacting with a backstep swift enough to avoid the attack--or so he thought. Iseole's footwork, incredible as always, moved along the elder’s attempted escape, matching the movement like a prediction and maintaining the two’s distance so that the palm-strike could connect.

The elder was pushed back, falling to the ground without even noticing Iseole's foot hooking the back of his knee before it was too late. The swiftness of Iseole's transition from tripping the elder to rising for an axe-kick wasn’t exceptional, but the transition of movements couldn’t be matched, once more seemingly producing a physical phenomena that inhibited the elder’s immediate response.

Of course, the gap between perfect technique and raw-power still stood strong and couldn’t be easily closed. The elders’ feelings of astonishment were well-deserved, but ultimately washed away after some time passed. They admired the boy, even a hint of jealousy for his heaven-sent talent bore within them, but their mission still took precedence, and they dallied long enough. The elder currently in combat with Iseole stopped his descent as he lied horizontal a foot above the ground through the use of chi, blocking his assailant’s dropping leg with an irresistible force alone. Immediately after, he sent out a jab towards Iseole without connecting; instead, a wave of chi sent out to destroy its target’s being. Iseole flew off several metres away before landing on the ground with a thud, his abdomen revealing a deep-wounded patch of blood.

The elders assumed the job done, staying for a moment to consider the valiance of their prey. After a moment of silence, the elders looked to one another, nodded, and one moved along towards the Meng household, the other staying to dispose of the two victims. Both of them were unaware of the terrible mistake they had committed; the previous elder’s chi-strike was certain death, serving to properly release the true potential which lied in his body, inherited from his father.

As the staying elder approached Iseole, a terrifying presence began to encompass the heavens. There was no substance to the presence, but the enormity of it was enough to suffocate the elder, sheathed within that presence being a killing intent so dense the elder felt like razor blades were glossing over his skin. From there, a constant stream of chi emanated from the figure forming above Iseole's immobile body.

At first, the chi was faint, which was still enough to frighten the elder considering Iseole's recent death. What made him sweat with trepidation was the steady increase, enough that by the time he regained composure, Iseole's aura was already fully formed, and matched his own. From there, the boy rose with an expressionless face and pitch-black eyes, bloody tears running and a rusted chain piercing a large hole in his chest. With unprecedented speed, the youth closed their distance and begun an onslaught of strikes without end, completely contrary to his standard method of combat.

If Iseole's usual style was like flowing water and precise technique, calm and smooth, his current disposition was like a raging fire--explosive attacks in a unbridled domineering fashion. It was like a sudden transition of yin to yang, only further serving to inhibit the elder’s timely responses through astonishment and inability to completely comprehend this series of events. In fact, up until the elder calmed down, he suffered many injuries. However, as an experienced fighter who through arduous work and shed blood and sweat, he was by no means a pushover. Once regaining his cool, the elder began his offensive.

The aftermath was absolutely brutal. Iseole stood there, still expressionless with an abyss presented in his eyes, but this time blood came from not just his eyes, but all over his body. In fact, he looked like a mangled corpse, with one arm bent the other way and bone showing at his shins. Yet even then, a raging chi was being released from his body, and he looked like he was prepping another attack.

The racing images cycling through his mind faded into obscurity, the last definitive image being some tear in space itself swallowing him whole.

As a hollow, the darkness within him had made him into a senseless animal, hunting down souls without thought, purely through instinct. At times, he would be aware of what he was doing, but it was as if he had no control of his actions, not that he wanted to stop either. All he wanted to do was express this anger, and that he did. Iseole had become aware of who he was as well--no longer human, not even looking like one. He was a beast--a monster. And as such, Iseole would act like one.

Sooner or later, after eating dozens and dozens of souls, he had come across another monster. Another monster. Someone just like him. Someone who he might be able to get closer to.... but also someone who could harm him, betray him and harm what he held dear. One who could grab all that, and rip it from him.

The clarity of his memories retained to this day, including the memory of his death. This clarity induced Iseole into a senseless rage, and by the end of it, he found himself feeding upon the remains of the monster. It felt horrible, but so much more fulfilling than simply eating these souls. Yes... this was far better. He wanted more. And more he would have.

Days, months, years passed as he fed upon the flesh of these monsters--the monsters just like him. And it was in these months, he felt a change. Iseole had begun to change, into something more than the monster she was now. Into a greater monster. Into a more terrifying beast than before.

Soon enough, he found himself amongst others of his kind, once again. Despite a different monster than before, he was exactly the same as the others. Humongous black beasts with white faces. These too.... they could--they should.. be fed upon.

Iseole resumed his actions, acting identically to what he was before. An instinctual monster. Iseole fed upon the bodies of these beings constantly. It was several long years before he had devoured a number reaching into three digits. That was all he had done in this state. Feed. Feast. Devour. Like an animal. A monster.

Iseole had once again undergone a transformation, and shrunken form. This time, he found himself in the dunes of sand. More creatures alike to her form, smaller than before but still large and disgusting, had presented themselves. Rinse and repeat. Iseole had attacked these forms without hesitation... but.. They were different from before. These creatures were different from the ones he had devoured before. It seemed that these creatures weren't as animistic as himself. They had more of a conscience. And with them, an air of power held true.

Several years passed. In this form, Iseole came into combat with dozens, hundreds of creatures like himself. Some were stronger, some were easily overpowered, some were on equal standings with her. Either way, these creatures retained awareness, and were capable of holding a conversation, sometimes with Iseole himself. It was almost like they were in a society. Granted, a society filled with fighting between each other, killing, mauling and feasting on each other if the opportunity presented itself, but a society nonetheless. It made Iseole more aware to these things. Aware of himself, and what he had become. Aware of the the things he had done in his past, and what had been done to him in the past. At this point, Isole was disappointed.

He had survived until now, strong and determined. He had handled pain beyond what some could imagine. All to end up letting rage consume him? To Iseole, where he stood now was ridiculous! As a human, everything he had done was in thanks to love. He had loved his mother and the legacy of his father, and endured long years of pain and suffering, just to make up for his own deficiencies. He had loved martial arts, and in turn had ignored his body creaking and screaming out in pleas to cease. He was stronger than this! And yet, look at what he had become!

Iseole had enough. She was fed up with himself. For long years and an amount far past countable, Iseole acted with pure instinct and desire, feeding upon the flesh of those just like him. With this sense of clarity, the hollow went along the dunes of sand, meeting other creatures similar to himself, in that they were fueled by rage, sorrow, a need for revenge. In these times, instead of instigating conflict as he used to, he tried to form a friendship, a connection going beyond 'fighting to satisfy our negative thoughts'. Of course, others didn't seem to have received such enlightenment like herself, resulting in a secluded lifestyle throughout the remainder of her days.

At this point, there was a bit of a loss of hope. The feelings of a sinful nature in him, and the failure to have others see their wrongfulness in acting purely on negative emotion, Iseole came to the point of having enough. He no longer wanted any part in being a beast. He desired forgiveness, enough to sever a part of his very own soul, splitting into two, leaving all the darkness within him to linger on and roam the dunes feeding itself as he once desired, the other to seek end to the endless sands of misery that ensnared him previously.

Salvation came in the form of an angel of death. Out of nowhere, the heavenly being came to him, offering an escape from what he was, though perhaps not in those words. And that escape was quickly taken. Under the guise of retaliating their attack, Iseole went forth and met head on with their blades, purposely allowing them to conduct their purification. At last, he was freed, thereon taken to his new home: Soul Society.

Finding home in the outer realms of the Rukongai Districts, Iseole--the name being the only vestige of his former life--was more than subject to an environment heavily influenced by crime and strife. In fact, he partook, if only as a manner of self-defense socioeconomically. The unforgiving and omnipresent "traditions" of the outer districts made violence a commonality, and the only viable paradigm for success and survival. All things said, as with the Romans, Iseole presented his innate potential in full, tapping into the instincts he once reluctantly relied on, ironically enough. His domineering retaliation to the first and only solicitation he'd ever receive was enough to earn some reputation from the get-go. Unfortunately, where strength shows challengers will go.

The meaning of personal strength in these parts were so stressed, that to maintain any authorial borders, it was a necessity. Otherwise, the looks of ridicule garnered from the surrounding parties were more than enough to instantly summon an army of enemies, ready to consume your territory whole. Iseole, seen as a greenhorn to the figurative tabletop of turfs, was instantly met with figures more than willing to assert their power and take the land he was now seen to own.

The outcome, without question, was an indomitable display. His swift victory in consistency quickly brought him to inadvertently rise in the ranks of outlaw powers. The epithet "Blood Moon" earned, in reference to his red garbs and merciless ferocity in battle, his notoriety even came to reach the centre of Soul Society, and true authority in all the land. From the den of the sleeping giant itself, the then-known 11th Division Captain--their own inherited epithet more illustrious than "Blood Moon" would ever be--who originated from the outer districts himself, as the majority of the Kenpachi evidently, assumed the task to abate the rise in factional war on the outskirts.

Following the then-known "#1 of Outer Rukongai", the captain and his company were startled to find the "Blood Moon" title belonged to a mere child. Even more astonishing was what the profile revealed. The exploits of "The Blood Moon" were entirely unintentional, and they had never personally expanded their territory. Instead, met with unending adversity, constant victory warded the surrounding powers further and further away from where he stayed. All things considered, it was well apparent that the fearsome "Blood Moon", though entirely authentic, was more of an image fabricated from the child's misconstrued self-defense, as was the truth.

The issue was that Iseole was problematic regardless of the truth behind the situation. But, ambitious as always in every chance they get to increase their power all the more, the interests of the Gotei per the central power's orders extended beyond destroying the rising power and instead assimilating it. That is to say, the Kenpachi was to take in the child. The fact that Iseole held his own against the monstrous captain--inevitably losing nonetheless--said more than enough.

The indoctrination of human rights garnered by strength per the outer-district cultures made Iseole more than willing to be whisked away by the captain, as he spent more than enough time under that mentality before. Under the impression that he lost his rights to independence and individuality when he lost the fight having still been adjusted to the hard-ground "strength is your life" methodology, a bright new wave of colours showered him under the new and pristine environment of Seireitei--something he sought when first coming to Soul Society. Offered education through the academy, shelter per the 11th Captain's efforts--at first via order, but then through developed affection--and a sense of family through the division's members, Iseole quickly adopted and underwent an entire change of attitude.

Now closer to his previous lively self, the naturally combat-inclined Iseole quickly became a rising star amongst new and young talents. His background wasn't entirely public for all to see, but some details as a matter of course were shed light, Fortunately, with the eleventh division as his home, due to his now adoptive father, serving as a perfect middle ground between the gritty outer-district atmosphere and--loosely stated--a more refined environment, Iseole suffered no prejudice. In fact, it helped him embrace the monster within, and as intended, in a controlled manner.

Graduation from the academy was a but a quick moment in the teen's long life. Jumping straight into the fray, the Blood Moon participated in as many missions allowed, even finally receiving personal mentoring from his father. Similar to him, his father was reliant on the sheer power behind his strikes, and though not to the extent of a refined martial art fit with systematic strings of techniques used to fight, at the very least the Kenpachi taught Iseole the skill he'd use for his entire career in the Eleventh Division. To control, focus, and hone all your latent reiryoku into the sword. On top of inherently suppressing one's reiatsu thus proving useful in more tactical situations, it collects all power into the one unstoppable blade. At least in this generation, that was the hallmark of the Kenpachi.

In this era, there were two kinds of Kenpachi: the type to fear death, and therefore be the very best at preventing it through sheer combat prowess, or ones that embraced and sought it, fighting like a maniac and pushing their opponent beyond the ability to retaliate. At this time, Iseole seemed to be the latter, his father the former. Many years passed, all clearly fruitful for the young and now fiery Iseole. Confidence in his teachings and power, praised enough for even his father to secede his position and pass it down the line, the new Kenpachi took hold with pride and vigour. Having even attained his bankai at this stage, all this accumulated newfound glory quickly contributed to the Blood Moon's downfall.

An excursion to the belly of the beast left deep scars on Iseole Kenpachi's heart. His solemn return with less than a quarter of the initial party size was a testament to the spoils of their battles, or lack thereof. An even larger impact to not only his pride but outright power was the loss of his zanpakuto. Breaking it in battle, alongside the absolute loss of his bankai, all the accumulated spiritual energy constantly stored into his sword to perform the Kenpachi hallmark strike ran rampant after breaking, consuming himself and the battlefield, subsequently dispersing and forever being lost, offering a massive hit to his total level of reiryoku.

Furthermore, the truth behind the Kenpachi title struck him. While it was tradition for the new Kenpachi to defeat and kill the predecessor in battle, the reason people even made the distinction between two types of Kenpachi was for this very tradition. The ones who feared death, being the hardest to kill from caution and skill, passed down the title, peacefully retiring. But, considering retiring from the title generally meant retiring from the Gotei altogether, they were instantly put on watch, even if left to lead their life how they pleased. The issue was, either type, Kenpachis were free spirits, generally speaking. The reason they could dictate the rough and rowdy 11th division was due to their own boundless ambition and desire to rise, doing as they pleased. Thus, for the passive Kenpachi, being on a watch-list was anything but pleasant. So, to their efforts, most often left Seireitei, generally returning to their origins which was most commonly the outer districts of Rukongai. In that case, they were forced under heavy restrictions as far as their spiritual capacity went, their powers caged like dogs. The alternative was often escape altogether from Soul Society, which for some was viable--for others it may have meant death. Otherwise? Doing so made certain that you'd never return peaceably, if at all.

Without any qualifications to retain his rank as Captain given the lacking power, nor any intention to do so as the once aggressive and wild Iseole turned from one type of Kenpachi to the next whilst facing his own powerlessness, Iseole abruptly resigned his position and place in the Gotei altogether. In interest of regaining himself, power and pride in tandem, perhaps a bit of soul searching was the answer. Certainly it gave him an answer, but whether it was the one Iseolevsought was a different matter.

The world of the living--Iseole's first time arriving since a life long since past, and the realm to be his permanent home given the strict unspoken rules of fleeing from Soul Society. To return to mortal dust and live the humble life or risk the watching eyes of the Gotei finding your spiritual signature, the Blood Moon found solace in living life without striving for power. Instead, Iseole sought a different sort of spirituality as the century went by. Especially considering what he found in his ventures through the Hueco Mundo expedition.

The expedition itself took several years, large fractions of multiple divisions cycling in and out on rotation to fight their prime opponents on their own field. In part, this was to deter any hollow activity in the Living Realm by reducing their numbers in their own realm, additionally inciting rapid growth in the Gotei by making the organisation as a whole constantly active. After all, the thirteen divisions weren’t as old during this time, and the backing towards militant action in Soul Society was much stronger at the time, nothing compared to the more stagnant position they’ve recently taken--justified by an assortment of reasons, of course.

One of the few leading figures on the front line was none other than the blood-thirsty and hot-headed Iseole, additionally one of the most powerful of captains in the field of combat, as the title of Kenpachi not only warranted but demanded. And what he found in those dunes was a piece of him long forgotten. A darker side of him he long since cast away. Unfortunately, he couldn’t cast away the karma he held with hollowkind.

One of the recent hegemons of Hueco Mundo lived distant from all other hollow-societies, a lonesome king ruling over a barren territory. Of course, as a vasto lorde, it was a high profile task to take on the creature, and Iseole was advised to await reinforcements of another captain-class individual to take it on together. Given his confidence and recent consistent success on the battlefield, Iseole directly engaged without waiting. The result was utter defeat, and not because of being insufficiently powerful. The hollow was entirely immune to the effects of Iseole’s Zanpakuto based off “Yang” of the Taiji. The hollow’s own set of abilities revolved around Yin, coincidentally, entirely canceling out all of Iseole’s techniques which worked off his zanpakuto; given his dependency on the sword at this time, he had little other means to fight back, whilst the vasto lorde was well versed in hand-to-hand combat.

The reason behind it? This hollow happened to be the other half of Iseole, when he split himself during his hollow days. Unbeknownst to him, his other half had grown so powerful--more powerful than him, even, and retained all the techniques of his past life, whilst Iseole’s training under the Kenpachi guided him to embrace the sword more than anything, eventually loosening his memory and skill in other combat forms.

And, following the trends of his true father before him, the clashing of their powers conjoined them, forcibly even. The result? An odd and natural born Vizard. This was the true reason behind his disgraced return, the fear of being found and demonised as his real father before him, the secret behind his lineage being slowly unearthed and revealed to him in secrecy. Thus, in his departure, a partial goal aside from finding himself--his new self, his other self--was to find his own true father.
Side Notes: [Anything you left out, put it here]
RP Sample: [Show us what you got. Rp with your character that you are applying for.]
View user profile

View previous topic View next topic Back to top  Message [Page 1 of 1]

Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum