Usagi, Shiro [SHINIGAMI]

___ S H I N I G A M I ___

The Soul Reaper

On The Surface 

Name: 

Shiro Usagi
Age / Apparent Age: 

50/18 
Gender:
Female
Height & Weight: 

4'11 (121.92 CM)/ 101 Lbs (45.81 KG)
Hair & Eyes:

Shiro's hair is quite long, reaching down to the middle of back. It is snow white in color, possessing a healthy sheen that causes it to appear to shine slightly in the light of a sunny day. While she struggles to keep it straightened the ends of the tufts tend to curl, leading to gain a bouncy quality as the day goes on. She tends to tuck the strands of the bangs behind her ears, but as she moves her head they tend to become dislodged, falling into her face and eyes in twin lock, often getting caught between her lips causing her the need to blow the soft strands from her mouth.

Her eyes are a deep crimson, their hue nearly identical to that of the blood that flows through her veins. 

Physical Description:

As mentioned above one of Shiro's most noticeable physical traits is her long, flowing snow white hair. It can actually be rather unruly, requiring two hours of general grooming in the morning to keep its silky feel and smooth cascade of strands. Without this daily maintenance it would become a mess of curls, tangles, and split ends. As mentioned earlier, over the length of the day the work done in this morning routine becomes undone as the ends of the tufted strands curl resulting in a natural bounciness that eventually leads into tangles and strands poofing upwards in a disorganized display. The natural sheen of the hairs is actually gives it a silver colored hue, which is the cause of the slight shine in the sunlight. 

She tends to enjoy  keeping her hair pulled back as the long strands will often fall over her face, blocking her vision as the stands cover her eyes. Because of this she tries to keep the bangs at the side of her face tucked neatly behind her ears, though they often come lose during the events of the day. She is often seen brushing her hand over her cheek in order to tuck the loosened locks back into place. She generally dislikes the look of ponytails, and finds the process of braiding difficult and time consuming. Due to this she keeps her hair in the somewhat burdening style, despite the fact it often gets in the way. 

There is not a lot to say about her eyes. They are crimson in color, just a bit of a brighter hue then the color of blood. They are very expressive, the sort of eyes that one thinks of when they hear them described as "The mirror of the soul". She has rather thick eyebrows and lashes, each matching the alabaster tone of her hair. Her eyebrows are actually quite insistent on becoming mono, requiring a morning plucking in order to maintain their separation. The eyelashes, however, are aloud to be wild and unkempt as she has a phobia of object coming to close to her eyes.

Her skin is a light pink in color, flushed at the cheeks with a slight rosy complexion that is accentuated when she blushes. The color of her skin serves to accentuate the ivory tint of her hair, making for a bit of a juxtaposition. Her skin would appear to be of a silky, almost perfect texture, free from the ravages of acne that most girls her age battle with the passion of a fifth division soldier. However, when one removes the standard Shinigami shihakusho they will find her form to be a road map of scars of various ages. The most significant of these is a scar of white color on her right side that run vertically from the base of her neck, down her budding bosoms, and stopping just above her groin. 

Her body is very petite. She sports herself a set of just barely A cup breast that rest above a surprisingly toned stomach. During her time in the Academy she took up a hobby of dance to work off the stress of ever growing expectations the staff had of potential Shinigami recruits. As a result of this her muscle structure is very lean instead of the bulk that some recruits gain. Her stomach has a teasing peak of the abdomen muscles, what one would call a six pack. Her hips are actually a bit wide for her height, but her glutes are nearly fat free. These round, smooth orbs are a bit more of a hand full than her breast, perhaps making them her best physical asset in the eyes of certain individuals. 

Other physical characteristics of note would be the fact that she has a rather larger than average tongue. At an astonishing 4 inches (10.16 CM) from the Orophalynx (where the tongue connects to the throat) to tip she may actually have the longest tongue in the soul society. It also has a bit of flexibility to it, being able to curl it up about an inch, and able to turn it upside down to reveal the much smoother underside without having to rely on her jaw muscle to assist with either action. If one is wondering just how large four inches is for the tongue, the average length is around 7.9 CM (3.1 Inch) from base to tip for women.

Lastly, she wears a nearly standard version of the traditional rank and file Shinigami uniform. Her personal changes to the uniform are a pair of crimson colored tabi that nearly match the color of her eyes. Most would never notice, but the cloth apparel are actually a shade darker. She also sometimes wears a matching hooded cloak that is actually a couple sizes to big for her. The cloak has a black ribbon that fits around the shoulders and over the chest to keep the garment from blowing off in the wind. 

Spiritual Description: 

The Spiritual Pressure exuded by the young girl is of a bright pink color, a slight neon tint to it as it flows like ocean waves around her tiny form. Around the edges of her Reiatsu is a solid blackness, an almost frightening darkness that slowly seeps over the neon hue, only to retreat back to the outer edges of the spiritual mass. It slowly pulsates from her body as it swirls, expanding and contracting as she the air enters and exits her lungs. 

The neon tinted pink of her Reiatsu resonates with a feeling of child like innocence and cheerfulness that will surely change as the girl experiences the realities of life as a Shinigami. The blackness on the outer edges, however, have a distinct feeling of misery and anger. 

Behind The Eyes 

Personality: 

Shiro is what some would consider just another young, dumb, fresh faced recruit just out of the Academy. To some extent this is true. She is very trusting, not yet knowing the harshness that even those you are to call comrade can have towards one another. Even towards those she must consider enemies a benefit of the doubt is extended, having a possibly mistaken belief that everyone has some tinge of good in them. Naivety that bleeds into a gentle, pacifistic nature that makes her unwilling to swing for blood. She always tries to talk a situation out, hoping against hope sometimes to avoid a violent encounter. As she graduates from the academy she has, at this point, never actually hit someone with even enough force to create a bruise. She always held herself back in zanjutsu classes, fearing causing harm to her fellow students. A sentiment not extended to her as multiple welts and bruises over the years show.

She is also a very awkward girl, becoming easily flustered with results in stammering or the classic "Uhh...". This happens especially around other females, even those she is suppose to consider her enemies. It also happens around those who are of a higher rank than herself, regardless of gender, though she will only include a blush with her stammer around females. During these burst of youthful awkwardness her mind becomes a blank, often leading her to do easily avoidable but incredibly embarrassing things. She often becomes very apologetic during these screw ups, performing a formal standing bow even to enemies.

One could also consider Shiro to be a very silly girl. She keeps on her person at all times an old stuffed cloth hand puppet who answers to the name of Puuchan. Shiro can often be seen having full, in depth conversations with this puppet during her alone times. Puuchan is the oldest, most precious item she owns. It is also her best friend in the entire world, taking the place of a flesh and blood friend for the actually desperately lonely girl. While Shiro is awkward, submissive, shy, gentle and kind, Puuchan is loud, confident, and rude with an ego bigger than the entirety of the Soul Society. When Shiro gets nervous she will pull out the hand puppet to speak for her, or at the very least express for her the words she can not actually say herself. After years of practice young Shiro has become a master ventriloquist, her pouty pink lips never seeming to move when Puuchan is speaking.

The persona of Puuchan is a result of a harsh childhood in the Rukongai, much of which was actually suppressed in the girls mind as a coping mechanism. Puuchan is often an outward voice for the girls subconscious, his words often mortifying the girl actually speaking them. In fact, one can not be entirely sure if Shiro is fully aware that she is actually speaking for Puuchan based on her earnest reactions to some of the things the puppet says. 

As odd thing about her is that she actually seems a little afraid of her Zanpakuto, which is something she feels a little guilty about. The blade is sharp enough to land a killing blow, and the power of something capable of killing someone in her hand is a bit overwhelming for her at this time. As such she tends leave it inside of its sheath unless she faces a situation in which she has to draw the blade. You can also guess that this slight phobia means that the connection between her and the Asauchi within the blade is nearly nonexistent at this early stage, and will most likely be severally stunted.

Positive Qualities: 

Gentle: This is a bit of a double edged sword. As a person it means she is kind, warmhearted and compassionate to those around her. As a Shinigami sworn to serve and protect the cycle of life and death it can mean she lacks the necessary killing instinct to slay the enemies for the greater good of the Soul Society.

Brave: Despite a long list of things that may make one think she would be a bit of a cowardly sort, she in fact is willing to stand beside those she cares for. Actually, to be fair he bravery is much more bravado, but unlike many others she is willing to gulp down the ball of fear and nerves and stand up as tall as she can.

Never Ever Give Up!: Shiro will always attempt to stand back up when she gets knocked down. Both in social situations and in combat. A period of rest after one figuratively, or sometimes literally, slashes you is okay, but you always need to get back to your feet in order to continue to grow.

Negative Qualities:

Submissive: She is currently not to type of person to take charge and be assertive. A follower in the truest sense of the word.

Naive: She is very inexperienced with how things actually word in the world of Shinigami, Quincy, Arrancar and etcetera. That mixed with a submissive, gentle and trusting nature can lead her to have a bit of a questionable loyalty born out of ignorance and the desire for peace rather than of any actual malice. 

Shy: She is very shy when meeting new people within the Soul Society. This leads into a rather a socially immaturity that sometimes leads to her making a fool of herself around superior officers.

Gentle: As mentioned before this is a double edge blade of a trait. She lacks a killing will, which means her ability to perform portions of her duty is stunted. As she grows up though she may very well learn to embrace the necessity of violence in the world that chews up and spits out those unwilling to fight against it.

Sexual Orientation and Behavior:

Shiro is homosexual in her sexual orientation. She greatly prefers the company of other females, even though she often finds herself a bit flustered. Her view towards the actions of other females tend to be very rose colored, which means she is much more likely to overlook or even graciously accept the rudeness, cruelty, or even outright  deceptions committed by members of her own gender. The fact she is also extremely submissive towards other females, especially in sexual situations, does not help to scrub those rose colored googles from her eyes. She is very much ripe to be the victim of a sexually abusive relationship, because the more they hurt you the more it shows they really care. Right? Yeah, yeah.

While she can be very awkward and bashful at time, when she gets down to the work of pleasure she is very much a giver. The pleasure and satisfaction of her partner will always supersede her own. Due to this, and the fact she is very submissive to begin with, she may often find herself in situations that may be rather uncomfortable, embarrassing, or even down right humiliating. Public exhibition, acts of heterosexuality, multiple partners...all it takes is a few reassuring honeyed words and a pat on the head for her to do things most taboo. 

Strength Of The World 

Hello, welcome judges to the Zanpakuto section of the application. I am sorry to inform you that I have no concrete ideas for what to put here. I do not want to just toss up any old thing just because it sounds bad ass. So, since she can not even use her Shikai as of yet anyway, I humbly ask that you skip this section for the time being. I understand and accept that it will affect the Growth Point score thing, but that is just a bullet I am going to have to bite here. 

Zanpakutō Spirit and Inner World: Who is your Shinigami's Zanpakutō spirit and where do they reside? (Minimum of 25 words)

Zanpakutō: What does your weapon look like when is and isn't released? (Minimum of 25 words)

Release Phrase: What is your release phrase and do you have any special rituals for when you release?

Zanpakutō Power: What do you look like when you release? What is your power? (Minimum of 25 words for your your appearance and 25 words for your power)

Feel free to edit in any more information you'd like to tell us related to your Shinigami's power or fighting specialities. You're also free to edit in your releases as you're awarded them.

Legacy Created 

Current Division:

None

Previous Divisions: 

None. She is a recent Academy graduate.
Snapshots:

History:

1965-1975, the First Decade: Toddler years.

Shiro was born was born on the Twentieth of December fifty years ago in East Rukongai District Eighty. She does not actually know that though, and has never actually celebrated a birthday in her relatively young life. Her father was a Shinigami whose name she was never actually told. Her mother was a strung out prostitute who would overdose on a drug some three years after her birth. The story of her birth, however, is not actually all that rare for the slums of the Rukongai. As the doctor who raised her would say: "Everyone has a sob story here, and sometimes it's even true." 

In the spring of Earth year Nineteen Hundred and Sixty Eight, a man who went by the name of Doctor Kai discovered a baby in the arms of a dead prostitute behind what could be loosely referred to as his health clinic. Truth is this man was not actually a doctor of any sort. He did not even have the experience of shadowing someone who actually knew about medicine in his younger years. He was just some guy who enjoyed the fact that the people in the Rukongai slums were surprisingly trusting, uneducated about what actual medical practice was. He charged a grossly absurd amount for his services, which meant that most who sought his services ended up bartering a trade rather than paying his exorbitant fee. 

Medical charlatan or not Doctor Kai took the relatively newborn into his home, though his intentions were not that of the good samaritan. He needed test subjects in order to practice skills such as surgery, and to test the concoctions he would brew up and call medicine. There was a plethora of orphans running around, closer to a usable age, that no one would ever miss, but a free orphan was a free orphan and he was not one to turn his nose up at a good deal.

So Shiro was taken into the doctor's home, used as a bit of a propaganda tool as a baby for the doctor to show how compassionate he was towards the plight of the people in the district. While she lived in the doctor's home, he was not really the one who raised her over the next sever years or so. In reality he would make bargains with people who came seeking his assistance, having them feed, diaper, burp and generally care take her in exchange for his treatments. After all he was an important man, the only doctor around for several districts. 

1975 to 1985, The Second Decade: Abuse and Lady Tremana

At the biological age of ten Shiro was physically aged to be five years old in human standards. This meant that she was old enough to take care of her self, at least by the standards low standards of the district. She would wander the streets around the doctor's home, having been warned not to wander to far away from the home which looked like a mansion among shacks to her. The doctors home was a massive fortress composed of dozens of shacks around his original. He had gathered this mass over the years through bargaining, and now had what he considered a home worthy of someone in his profession.

Shiro was a bit of an outcast among her peers. Children in the Rukongai, when it comes to their social structure, tend to do one of two things. They either band together as a family where they all support each other, or they ostracize and humiliate one another in a complex pack system. District Eighty at the time was the latter of these, and Shiro was at the bottom of the pack. Not only was she the new girl, she was also the little pet of the seemingly richest man in the district. The other children had the mistaken idea that she was drowning in expensive toys and clothes, merely wearing her gray colored dress, made from a potato sack, to somehow mock them. 

So young Shiro spent her days on the shit list of every two bit bully in the district, usually acting as a easy target for the lower members of the pack to who themselves were also targets of these upper pack members. This alone may be enough for most people, but Shiro was not most people in this case. The good doctor had decided that young Shiro was now big enough for him to begin using as a practice dummy for his rather lackluster surgery skills. At night he would stuff the girls mouth with an old bit of cloth as he used his scalpel to slice into the girls chest to practice his initial incision and hand steadiness. When he was finished he would practice sewing up the wound, pouring alcohol he obtained from local moonshiners to disinfect the wound. He would then usually either swab some chemical he had brewed up on it, or have her drink some foul smelling brew. These first years of the testing were insignificant when compared to later years.

At biological age nineteen, physical age nine, Shiro was lucky enough, or unlucky depending on your view, to catch the eye of a woman of class and sophistication by the name of Lady Tremana. She was a Shinigami who has risen to this status from the streets of the districts some hundred years before. In reality she was nothing more than a rank and file, nearly faceless, member of the sixth squadron of the Gotei Six, but on the occasions she would leave the Seritei she would put on silken robes of the most exquisite colors. She had an aura of wealth and elegance that, much like how the doctor did, tricked the citizens of her home district into thinking she was much more than she actually was. She was also a collector of things she considered rare or exotic, and in the higher numbered districts of the Rukongai the basic salary of a Shinigami could by a lot more than you may expect.

After hours of deliberation she actually bought the young Shiro from the doctor as if she were a piece of furniture rather than a person. She left Shiro with the doctor as she went to make arrangements for her new acquisition. That night the doctor had stuffed the girls mouth with the cloth as usual, prepping his scalpel as he did nearly every night. At this point the horror of the experience that Shiro had once felt was more of a ho hum sort of feeling, that is till the actual operation began. This night however would be quite different from the other surgeries which had been increasing in severity at recent. On this night the doctor knew he would be losing his test subject, and so he made no effort to actually keep her alive. He actually cut her open from neck to groin, planning to literally slice the girl open so that he could finally have a good look at the internal workings of the body. 

Luck was on her side this night in spite of the awful start. As the doctor began to slice across the underside of her neck, her muffled screams of pain filling the otherwise silent air, the mass of an inky blackness slams into the doctor from the left accompanied by an explosion of wooded material. He drops his scalpels as his body was knocked under the force of the object, and a sickening crunch was heard as the inky black object crushed him into a far wall. Following the object was a man dressed in black robes, a sword in his hands as he leaps towards the thing. Breathing quick and heavy as pain shoots through her tiny form, Shiro watches as the mans blade sinks into the object, piercing through it and into the doctors head which was squished between it and the wall. A few more of these black robed people entered into the shack from the hole that had been blasted into the wall. The last thing she saw was one of them staring down at her before she passed out.

When she awoke she was in the street outside of the shack, a man knelt over her, his hands glowing a bright green. To her right stood a man in the same black robes, nodding as he listened to two men in tunics. To her left was a girl with bright pink hair She has spoke, her mind a haze as she had called the name of the kind woman from earlier, Lady Tremana. 

1985 to 2005, The Third/Fouth Decade. Sex, Love, Puuchan.

As Shiro enters her twenties she found herself in a much better place than she had in her teens. She stayed in a home purchased by a young, beautiful woman with raven black hair known to her as Lady Tremana. The home was located in the Rukongai East First District, which was so different from the Eightieth that it was as if it were another realm of reality entirely. She lived in what seemed like unbridled luxury, with an actual bed, sheets and actual clothes that were sewn by craftsmen instead of a potato sack. She lived alone in this home most of the time, only being joined by the Lady of the home for a couple days a month. She was expected to maintain the home, visit with a man who called himself a therapist, and generally "remain beautiful" as the Lady had said. She was actually the first person who had ever called her that, and it never failed to bring a blush to her cheeks when she did.

The man that the Lady had her visit was named Posasu, and said he was paid to listen to whatever it was she had to say about her experience with the doctor. The lady had insisted she visit this fellow when she had inspected her body in the shower after Shiro first moved in, and had been told the story of what had been done. Problem was that Shiro could not really remember the events all that well. Unknown to the girl she was actually beginning to repress the memories of what the doctor had done as a way to cope with the things done to her. Not only that, she was also repressing deep rooted feelings of hatred, anger, anguish, and overall misery. There were times where she would be shopping in the market for groceries and would suddenly shiver as, just for a split second, a flash of intense hatred would wash over her. 

The therapist fellow was not really a big help to the girl. She always felt so odd trying to talk to this stranger, and as such she would clam up, never really speaking as they just sat in a room. The only time Shiro ever really felt comfortable was when the Lady would come home for the weekend. She was always so interested in what Shiro had to say, and knew just how to coax the girl out of her shell. They would spend nearly the entire weekend talking with each other as they went about the business of the day. They would talk in the bath as they scrubbed each other clean, the Lady taking an especially long time scrubbing Shrio's alabaster hair. They would talk in the candle light of the Lady's room, Shiro always drifting off to sleep first. 

At biological age twenty five, physical age of thirteen, the Lady informed Shiro she no longer had to meet with the fellow. It was on this night that she presented her with a special surprise in the form of a hand puppet that she named Puuchan. She believed that Shiro needed someone besides her to talk to, but the poor girl was to shy to express her deepest thoughts to anyone but her. So came in Puuchan, who Shiro could talk to about anything she wanted any time she wanted. While apprehensive about talking to a puppet at first, eventually Puuchan and Shiro became inseparable friends.

At the biological age of twenty eight, physical age of fifteen, the mother/child relationship between the Lady and Shiro took a sudden turn. The chemistry between the two, at least from the side of Lady Tremana, had always been somewhat erotic. They would bath together, laying in the homes single tub as their bodies entwined. Shiro had never really thought about the actual  amorous nature of the act though as she would rubs down the Lady's large breast and firm body. She thought it was just what people who loved one another did together, which she was partially right about. However the young girl has no clue of the older woman's true intentions as she would offer motherly coo's of encouragement as Shiro ran her hands over her body.

On that night rain was dancing across the ceiling as the candle light flickered over their forms. The older woman pressing her lips to Shiro's for the first time as her fingers tickled her chin to make the girl giggle as she lifted her chin upward into the kiss. That night she taught Shiro the mysteries of the female body, the smell of roses in the air as nervous fingers caressed bare flesh. Body rocking with its first burst of incalculable pleasure.

The events of the night were more or less repeated with every visit the Lady made to her home. Before to long she had Shiro in a dog collar, arfing in her best impression  with a furry tail strategically placed. The displays of carnal obedience quickly becoming more and more outlandish as she tested just how obedient Shiro was to her. These test of decency and limitations lasting for several years. Shiro never once disobeyed Lady Tremana, performing acts of heinous taboo's that would be repressed along with the events of her early childhood.

2005 to 2015, The Fifth Decade: Death and the Academy.

On an early spring morning in her fortieth biological year, physical at the age of 16, Shiro returned home from shopping to see a man in a black robe suddenly disappear in front of the home. Upon investigation she discovered a letter addressed to her in the hand writing of the Lady of the home. Reading it her heart seemed to stop as it shattered, sinking into oblivion at the words on the paper. It was a letter written to her that was to be delivered in the event of Lady Tremana's death. Her head began to pound and she actually saw red as she fell to her knees as she gripped the note in her fingers. This was the first time she would see Puuchan "speak on his own" as she claims. The reality is that Puuchan is just a hand puppy made of cotton stuffing and silk cloth, incapable of any sort of thought.

There are no real words able to properly describe was happened to Shiro's mind as she feel to her knees that day. To simply say that her psyche broke is an a drastic understatement to the actual event that took place. As mentioned before, Shiro was already suffering from repression and perhaps even the beginnings of more severe problems. So as the realization that she would never see the only soul she had ever loved these issues were exasperated to a breaking point. To cope with this her mind projected things onto her only other friend, the hand puppet Puuchan, who she had already been using as a tool to express her inner thoughts and feelings in a verbal way. 

For a little over a year after the event young Shiro just wandered the streets in a daze, her eyes dull and blank as she simply lived on basic human instinct as she wandered around the first districts around the Seritai wall. During this time Puuchan literally became her voice as her mind worked itself out. She was known as "The ghost lady" by locals who called her so due to her pure white complexion and the dull, lifeless look in her eyes as she just wandered. The blue dress she had worn that day becoming faded and torn, dirt accumulating on her. Before to long she was looking just as filthy and poor as when Lady Tremana had seen her over two decades before.

Eventually the girls mind gathered itself back up to some degree, allowing her to once again be Shiro. Problem is the Shiro as she is now is not quite the Shiro she was before. Gone, or rather so deeply repressed into her mind that they may as well be gone, are the memories of nearly her entire life. The only things she really remembered after her mind began to come back to her were her own name and Puuchan. For better or worse she found herself starting on a new slate, apparently suffering amnesia of some sort or another. Puuchan though, Puuchan remembers all these things that Shiro has forgotten. He considers himself, or it would be Shiro considers the puppet, as something of an older brother who is there to guide, encourage and protect her.

And so this would be the duo's dynamic over the next seven years. Shiro lived in a tiny shack near the prestigious Shinigami Academy, spending her days picking flowers from the fields nearby to offer them to people who came from near and far to join the academy. She watched as people joined the academy, and watched as they failed out or quit in disgrace. She would offer a friendly face to those who needed it, often getting told to sod off as people who left the Academy without graduating were rarely in the mood for a chipper girl with a basket of flowers.

In her forty eighth biological year, at a physical age of eighteen, one of the teachers at the academy spoke to her one cool spring morning as she stood at the edge of the property, having been told those who were not joining or in the academy needed to stay off the grounds. The older woman had a sword of wood which she carried lazily over her right shoulder. She had told Shiro she should consider joining the Academy herself, that a girl of gentle nature would be a pleasant change from the regular "wanna be bad ass" sort as she put it.

After a few days of mulling the idea over in her mind she finally decided to give it a shot, with guidance from Puuchan of coarse. Soon she found herself standing at attention in a crowd of other men and women as a man in a black robe walked back and forth between the rows. He got into the face of several of the potential students, yelling at the top of his lungs as he insulted just about everything about them. From mothers sexual history to fathers promiscuity with beast the man screamed obscenities at recruits as he marched. Shiro was sure that if he were to get in her face like that she would break down and cry, but luckily the man walked right past her as he continued on his way.

The days turn to weeks and weeks to months as Shiro studied the essentials of being a Shinigami. Zanjutsu, Hakuda, hoho, kido. She took classes in all these skills. Young Shiro found that she enjoyed the classes in Hakuda more so than the others, being able to incorporate her new hobby of dance into the basic movements. Zanjutsu was her least favorite class, especially when they moved to sparring matches. She found that she could not bring herself to strike out with the wooden blade with an intent to do bodily harm. It was her lowest scoring class in the Academy, one teacher saying that she had the technical proficiency but needed that certain something to push her over the edge.

Puuchan was also active during this time, though he was never willing to go to class with her. So Shiro would take time in the evening to show Puuchan what she had learned during the day, grabbing her wooden sword with the mouth puppet as she would practice the stances from the class one handed. Most of the time Shiro would stay by her bunk with Puuchan instead of going to various after class social events. It earned her the nick name "Weird Puppet Girl" from other students. 

After nearly two years of training the day has finally come for her to graduate from the academy and become a full fledged Shinigami. She had discussed with Puuchan what squad she should attempt to join. He had suggested Squad six, but upon mentioning this to the teacher she was informed that the squad had been folded into squad two. Thus, she joined Squad two in order to join the Military police of soul society. She was not really sure why she wanted to join the Military Police, but Puuchan knew that that had been where Lady Tremana had been stationed, and thought Shiro may be happy there.

Roleplay Sample: 

Hello Those of you who have stuck around to this point. I hope that I have saved the best part for last as it is my most favorite part of any application. I personally feel that one simple sample is not really enough to properly display the aspects of a character, so I ask that you forgive me as I plan to give you two separate examples of what I can do. The first will be of a social/noncombat sort, the second will be a combat example.. Please enjoy. 

FIRST EXAMPLE: NONCOMBAT/SOCIAL

Shiro sat on the west side of the small bunk room, her back pressed against the wooden wall as she stared ahead of her intensity of a scientist hard at work on an important issue. The room she was in was rather simple and bare, the walls of the cubicle composed of simple wooden material that had been sanded smooth by the hands of craftsmen long gone. The floor was a slightly lighter shade of tan than the walls, made of a single slab of the refined material unlike the sides which were made of several planks hammered in placed with nails made of iron. While sturdily emplaced they were not quiet big enough on the western and eastern walls of the room, which would allow a curious fellow to slide the bottom of a board near the north wall just about an inch in order to peek into the room. 

To her left was the door, a traditional sliding number made of thin paper like material that offered little in the way of privacy as one could easily just tear through it if they wanted. Not that they would need to seeing as the door had no lock on it. To the right was a small window that overlooked the garden of the Captains private quarters, or at least gave one a great view of the massive privacy hedges that blocked direct glimpses into the area. They were beautiful though, flowers of red, yellow and white were currently in full bloom. Above her were the frame work structure of the building, which both to open up the rather small room and ensure there was never a quiet moment as the sound of the squads coming and goings echoed through the wooden rafters at all hours of the day.

In front of her sat the simple single sized bunk, a plain white sheet pulled tightly over it. On top of the sheet sat a Zanpakuto, its black sheath firmly in place as the girl just stared at it. She sat with her legs crossed, left hand resting beside her knee as she held her right hand up in front of her chest, a hand puppet made of stuffed cloth placed over it. The puppets head was wrapped over the appendage, her four fingers slipping into a slot in its upper jaw while her thumb slipped in a similar slot for the lower. The head was a little bigger than her admittedly rather small hand, perfectly round and pink in color with a tuft of brown cloth that represented its hair. The body dangled limply, made up of a plaid red and green number with pink appendages sewed on to represent its arms and legs. Its also looked towards the sword, its large black button eyes as lifeless as one can imagine an over sized button being.

"It's not gonna bite you ya know." Came the voice of the puppet, which was in reality just Shiro's own voice doing her best gruff man impersonation. She turns her wrist, making it so the button eyes of the puppet stared into her own. She softens her face a bit as she turns to look to her puppet friend, a stand of hair sliding from behind her ear to dangle in front of her left eye. As she slides her left hand over her cheek, fingers capturing the offending strand to tuck away once again, she smiles to the puppet, sighing just a bit.

"I know...but it's just so..." She stopped, thinking for a moment about how she really felt about this. She had worked so hard to earn this sword, and now here she sat just staring at it as if any moment it would strike at her. She could hear the celebration going on in the distance, a "welcome to the Squad!" party flowing with alcohol and what was known as "Friendly Hazing". She had chosen not to attend. She did not know anyone here, feeling a certain emptiness inside as she had watched the beginnings of the party from a distance. 

"I just feel so empty inside Puuchan. How will I ever be a true Shinigami if I can't..." She moves her wrist, the puppets left arm coming up to lightly slap her left cheek. "Shh. None of that talk Shiro. That emptiness isn't who you are, it's just how you feel right now. You're a sweet girl who needs to learn to put herself out there. I say go to that party! So what if you don't know anyone there!" As Shiro spoke for the puppet she moves her wrist, causing the puppet's arms and legs to swing in a disorganized fashion. "By the time the parties over you're sure to know at least one of those guys. Maybe even a cute girl, ehhhh~." The puppet teases. The girls cheek turn a bright crimson as she turns her head to the right, bringing her left hand upward to cover her mouth slightly. "Don't say things like that Puuchan!" She exclaims before uncrossing her legs, getting up to her feet as she moves her hands down the front of her new uniform in order to flatten out some creases. The uniform she had been issued was a size to big for her, the issuing officer explaining that he would order her one in her size that would arrive in a week or two. Till then she had to just make due.

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SECOND EXAMPLE: COMBAT.

An explosion of wood, mortar and other materials necessary for basic construction erupted into the midnight sky. Plumes of thick smoke colored  white, gray and black fill the chilled evening air. Orange flames from a kerosene lantern begin to spread through the various debris that resulted from the explosive strike, causing the fire from the explosion to spread rapidly northward. Screams, cries, and other sounds of pain and panic echo through the distract as the fugitive made his way to the east, leaving the destruction he hath wrought behind him in hopes his pursuers would be distract long enough for him to escape to the less populated regions of the Soul Society. 

Shiro stood in the middle of a dirt path to the east of the explosion, feeling the ground shake beneath her feet as the building erupted into flames. She was on blockade duty, her job simply being to keep the crowds from entering the quarantine zone where the senior members of the Squad had tracked the fugitive to. It was actually a pretty easy job, the wooden shacks around her being rather rundown, appearing to be abandoned. She sighs as she leans against a rotten wooden pillar that held up a simple fabric awning, once red in color but now a brownish pink. As she did so the awning finally rips, a waterfall of ick drenching the girl before she could even begin to react. 

She reaches up with her left hand, running it over her face for a moment before shaking her head, the snow white mane scattering is a disorganized manner as water droplets scatter into the air. As she stops she takes a moment to regain her composure, long stands pressed tightly to her face as the filthy water seeps into her uniform robes. She moves both hands to her face this time, pushing the strands from her face, noting a brown color to her usually snow white hair. She shivers in disgust, thoughts going to how long it will take to wash this gunk out.

As she reaches into her robe from her best friend Puuchan a man in a simple blue tunic walks up to her. He crosses his hands over his chest as he watches the fire burn in the distance. "That is kerosene I bet, see that smoke?" He asks as he continues to stare at the flames dance in the night sky. "That's not burning to efficiently. Not like propain which is both clean burning and efficient." He begins to reach into the pockets of the tunic, pulling out a few old scraps of paper. "I have some pamphlets if you'd like to know more" As he begins to offer the old paper to her, Shiro backs away, stepping to the side a bit to put the rotted wooden pillar between her and the strange man. Just as she begins to move the flash of a blade in the moonlight catches her eye as suddenly the strange mans head is sliced from his neck, a spurt of blood gushing upward in a shower of gore as the body falls over to the right.

"Soul King!" She exclaims, falling backward through the flimsy side wall of the old shack, landing on her rear end as she winces just slightly having just fallen through a wall. As she looks up she sees the blade of that had just decapitated the man fly towards her. She rolls herself backward, the blade stabbing into the earth where her stomach had been just a moment again. Her feet were swung over her leg as she tumbles, her neck aching a bit from the momentary awkward positioning as her feet and legs go over her head. She ends up on her stomach, head now facing the attacker who was attempting to pull his blade from the ground. She performs an adrenaline fueled feat of strength and agility to push herself off the ground in one go, almost instantly in a squating position as she sprigs into a standing position. The man was less than a foot away, finally able to extract the blade from the ground as he begins to swing the length towards her as it exits the ground. 

She moves backward as the blade swings towards her, moving her self left to right to avoid the swings of the man. Her years of dance skill, specifically the ballet in the moment, were showing as she manages to dodge the sharpened edge for now, though not as gracefully as she had imagined she would in her day dreams of such an event. "He..ey...ey! Stop that!" She yells as her back presses against another wall, the small size of the room working against her dodging. The man swings at her head from the right, aiming to decapitate her as he had the man earlier. Shiro ducks, now squatting as she begins to contemplate her options. The man swings from the left, aiming for her body for a killing blow against vital organs. Shiro jumps, the edge of the blade slicing a portion of her uniform from her as she now finds her self standing.

Shiro falls backwards, the wall, which was slightly more solid than the previous one, giving way as the mans blade had sliced though the wooden material. She once again finds herself on her back, looking up at the man as she had done previously. This time, however, there was no room between to two that would give her time to react to the coming attack. She watches, eyes wide as the attacker prepares for for a death blow. As he lifts his sword up the rotten walls buckle under the weight of the ceiling, unable to compensate for the loss of the other two walls. A support beam cracks loudly, causing the man to look upward as the jagged edges of the cracked beam lands in his face. The mans blade drops from his hands as he falls backward, the rest of the shacks ceiling crumpling in on his form, burying him under rotten wood and a thick layer of gunk. 

Shiro blinks, awestruck at what had just happened. She gets to her feet, moving her arms down her uniform to wipe away the dirt and creases from the thrilling incident. As she finishes she reaches into her uniform top, pulling from a hidden pocket a stuffed cloth hand puppet who answered to the name of Puuchan. She coughs, clearing her throat as she slips her right hand into the appropriate slots within the puppets round head. "That is what you get when you mess with my girl Shiro. Now stay down asshole." The puppet declares, its voice simply Shiro doing her best impersonation of a gruff, manly tone.

As she gets the words out of her mouth the pile of rubble lurches upward as the man stands back up, blood oozing down his face from his ruptured right eye socket. Her eyes go wide with freight. She starts to turn to left left to flee as the voice of the puppet comes again. "Puuchan headbutt!" Exclaims the puppet as its head slams into the mans crotch with as much force as the girls arm could muster. The mans eyes go wide, blood spewing from his ruptured eye socket as he falls to his knees.

Shiro turns towards the man whose face was squinched in a look of pure agony. Her eyes showed concern for the man who opened his mouth, a high pitched grunt of pain escaping from his throat as his hands grip at his groin. "Puuchan barrage!" Came the puppets voice again as its head slams into the mans right cheek, then into his left cheek over and over again. In reality as the puppet slams into his right cheek it is actually the back of her hand slapping against his face, and when it comes from the left it is the palm. She struck the man on his orbital bones around the eyes, making it seem as if the puppets arms were punching against the mans face as they flop lifelessly. "And finally...Puuchan kick!" The puppet exclaims as the puppets body slams against his nose. In reality it was her palm slamming the mans nose bone upward, possibly breaking it as blood begins to gush forth. 

"P...Puuchan that was so violent!" Shiro exclaims as she stares at the puppet with a look of surprise. She had never seen Puuchan get so fierce before. The mans cries of anguish echoed in the night air, calling out that he had had enough. "Sometimes you got to get rough with people Shiro. He would of tried to hurt you again if I had let him get to that sword. You got to fight back against people like him or else they will kill you Shiro." The girl begins to cry as the puppet finishes the lecture. She pulls it to her chest, embracing it with her other hand. "Oh Puuchan..." She says, tears starting to stream down her face as the sound of the other Squad members began to close in. "Don't sweat it kid." Comes the puppets voice as she moves her right hand up, moving her wrist so that the puppets arm dabs at her eye. "Now dry up those tears quick. Here comes the cavalry just in the nick of time to do nothing as usual."

OOC 

Player Alias: 

Sayla
Desired Starting GP: 

500. I am my own worse critic.
Where you referred by anyone?: 

Google
Other Characters: 

This will be my first character.