Post by Crowe Starazo on Aug 22, 2016 5:59:05 GMT -5
STARAZO, CROWE
Los Noches Resident
[ AT A GLANCE ]
Age / Apparent Age: 520/20
Gender: Male
Height Weight:176cm and 49kg.
Hair/Eye Color: Crowe has messy, unruly, dull red hair, his fringe hanging over his hollow hole, the location of his missing left eye. His hair hangs down the back of his head to about the top of his neck. Naturally, his hair shows off his whole face but he is constantly styling it to cover his Hollow Hole. His remaining right eye is chestnut brown, much like a bird's. In life, it was bright blue.
Positive Traits:
Contemplative - When the mind is your only sanctuary, one must constantly use it
Patient - Four hundred years is a long time; what more is a few minutes, or hours even?
Cautious - In a world of monsters, those who run, live.
Negative Traits:
Cold - The world turned it's back, and Crowe replied the same
Lost - Even with a thousands roads to choose, Crowe could never find his way alone.
Shy - It's tough having no love for yourself.
Deflective - Sticks and stones may break his bones, but words will never harm Crowe (or so he claims)
Loyalties: Due to the mixed events that led to his rebirth as an Arrancar, Crowe has no loyalty, though his path has turned toward searching for a role at Los Noches. After his journey, he joined several other Arrancar in their attempts to return the castle of Los Noches to its former glory.
Snapshots:
[ ON THE SURFACE ]
Physical Description:With his dull red hair, singular eye and simply overall wild appearance, Crowe has a notable and striking appearance, if not for the best of reasons. He usually holds a guarded, fatigued expression at most times, which in small moments may change to a softer, more caring look when he feels more relaxed and at home. Crowe is thin, with long lanky limbs that clearly came (and will come) in handy during his work as a tracker. His posture unhealthy, Crowe generally walks hunched forward, as if carrying the weight of his life on his back. His dull red hair hides one of his major signs of his situation - his Hollow hole lies where his left eye socket was, in a twist of fate, and is a source of anxiety for him, as his missing eye was in his living life. In the rare times that Crowe speaks up, he has a soft, tender voice that to some people could be considered soothing.
Crowe usually dresses in coats and trousers that cover as much of his body as possible, to cover the large number of scars that he sustained in his teenage years living in the streets of Rome, and tracking in the surrounding countryside of Italy.. As a result, his body is unnaturally pale, a trait that has only been exacerbated in his time as an Arrancar. In the year he has spent wandering the wasteland of Hueco Mundo, he has pilfered the clothes of humans and others who had been brought to this world - his sole possessions are the brown overcoat and grey trousers he has obtained from said corpses. His Zanpakuto, which does not know the name of, lies at his hip, the sheath hidden beneath his overcoat.
Spiritual Description: In contrast to his rather guarded physical appearance, Crowe's spiritual presence is weak, unassuming, and revealing, a murky grey that reflects the conflict that goes on within his very soul, the dual curiosity and fear that burns whenever he is encountered by other individuals. His Reiatsu reveals Crowe's true feelings - despite his attempts to remain distant and protect himself, and others, his spiritual presence is like a call for help, a yearning for someone, anyone to connect to him and break the distant shell of despair he has created in the centuries since he became a Hollow. When his powerful survival instinct is triggered, in moments of great danger or anxiety, his aura becomes more noticeable, like water boiling within a kettle.
[ BEHIND THE EYES ]
Goals and Achievements: In life, Crowe was an accomplished tracker, known as the 'Corvo of Italy'. It's one of the view pieces of pride that he holds on to in his new life as an Arrancar, and a skill he makes constant use of eking out an existence in the grand desert of Hueco Mundo. His main goal in seeking out those in Los Noches is so he can be put to use as a tool, much like did for those requesting his services as a tracker in life. He also possesses a fantastic memory, being able to remembers locations well enough to draw them and how to get there after visiting them a single time.
[ GUARDIAN ANGEL ]
Aspect of Death: Despair.
Crowe leaped into battle to save avenge his beloved, the despair of watching her cut down shocking him to his very core. But as he died, the realisation that his beloved would rather he had lived on past her death, rather than die in vain, made despair his final thought of his natural life. Being alone for almost his entire life, the few he grow close to dying before his eyes, the rest viewing him as little more than malformed trash, Crowe feels naturally distant from all beings, feeling that his very presence is a danger to both himself and their lives. This has placed Crowe in a self destructive situation; either he stays away from all and slowly loses his sense of self, or he seeks people out and risks hurting them and himself. No matter what - Crowe loses, in his mind.
Power:Tracking Pulse - After 'marking' his target with his own spiritual power, who is within 50 metres of him, Crowe can track said target at a distance up to fifteen kilometres - as his reiastu perception skill increases, he gains a variety of boons associated with his power; at it's lowest levels it can measure the target's heart rate and predict their rate of movement - at higher levels, Crowe gains an insight into such things as the enemies weak points and the condition of their body and psyche.
Zanpakutō:Crowe's Zanpakuto is a Langes Messer (German for "Long Knife"),that in particular, matches the blade given to him by his deceased love when he was human. Crowe does not know it's name, or exactly the true nature of the blade - but covets and protects it greatly for the sheer reason that he knows it once belonged to his lost love in one sense or another. The blade is fit to the only style of fighting Crowe ever knew - speedy, on-the-move combat, the blade being 60cm in length. The specially designed blade is silver, a long scratch running along its side. The hilt notably has the face of a Fox engraved upon it, and is brown in colour. Crowe sheathes his Messer in a black sheath, which is hidden beneath his overcoat.
[ LEGACY CREATED ]
Los Noches Resident
[ AT A GLANCE ]
Age / Apparent Age: 520/20
Gender: Male
Height Weight:176cm and 49kg.
Hair/Eye Color: Crowe has messy, unruly, dull red hair, his fringe hanging over his hollow hole, the location of his missing left eye. His hair hangs down the back of his head to about the top of his neck. Naturally, his hair shows off his whole face but he is constantly styling it to cover his Hollow Hole. His remaining right eye is chestnut brown, much like a bird's. In life, it was bright blue.
Positive Traits:
Contemplative - When the mind is your only sanctuary, one must constantly use it
Patient - Four hundred years is a long time; what more is a few minutes, or hours even?
Cautious - In a world of monsters, those who run, live.
Negative Traits:
Cold - The world turned it's back, and Crowe replied the same
Lost - Even with a thousands roads to choose, Crowe could never find his way alone.
Shy - It's tough having no love for yourself.
Deflective - Sticks and stones may break his bones, but words will never harm Crowe (or so he claims)
Loyalties: Due to the mixed events that led to his rebirth as an Arrancar, Crowe has no loyalty, though his path has turned toward searching for a role at Los Noches. After his journey, he joined several other Arrancar in their attempts to return the castle of Los Noches to its former glory.
Snapshots:
1497 - Crowe is born in Rome, Italy, unusually with only a single eye. His parents are unknown, and he is abandoned by them to be left at an orphanage, where he lives for ten years.
1504 - 07: Crowe is ostracised by the other children due to his missing eye - he grows attached to the kindly owner, who is the only one who cares about him.
She dies in front of him, Crowe too weak to save her.
1511: After a chance encounter during a pickpocket session, Crowe gains the praise of a traveller, who promises to tell others of his amazing tracking skills. Crowe becomes known as the "Corvo", one of the best trackers in Italy. He forms a small business taking tracking requests for people, but never that would put him in any kind of serious danger.
1513 - 1517 Crowe meets Sara, a bounty hunter who sees his talent, and wishes to form a partnership with the meek tracker. After some praise and seeing her amazing combat skills, Crowe accepts and the two combine their efforts. With Sara's ability to draw people in, their work booms, along with having Sara being able to handle more dangerous work.
Crowe and Sara, after much tension, form a relationship and fall in love, Crowe devoting his life to their relationship.
1517: After an unlucky turn of events, Sara is struck down by bandits she and Crowe are tracking. Crowe, overcome by emotion and rage, kills Sara's murderer, but is cut down. In her final moments, Sara regrets his actions, whispering that Crowe could have lived on. Crowe dies in despair, alone.
1500s-1700s: Crowe lives as a bird-like Hollow, his bestial instincts overpowering any coherent thought. For around two hundred years he eats his way across the desert of Hueco Mundo.
1700s - 2010: Crowe's consumption of Hollows reaches critical mass and he becomes a Gillan, growing in power and giving him a little clarity, his thoughts becoming clearer. Over the next three hundred years he continues to eat his way across Hueco Mundo, though Crowe slowly begins to regain control of his sense through his Hollow nature.
2011: Crowe, finally having assumed enough control over his beastly instincts, despairs over his pointless existence. Taking his fate into his own hands, he plunges his great Gillan body into an outcropping of sharp rocks, shredding his body. This fails to kill him, simply shattering his mask, turning him inadvertently into a Hollow.
2011-2017: Crowe, believing his sins are forcing him to stay alive as punishment, wanders Hueco Mundo, his despair at his life growing with each day.
2017: After wandering the wastes for nearly seven years, Crowe heads to Los Noches, seeking out something to give his life meaning, no matter what awaits him at the gigantic castle.
[ ON THE SURFACE ]
Physical Description:With his dull red hair, singular eye and simply overall wild appearance, Crowe has a notable and striking appearance, if not for the best of reasons. He usually holds a guarded, fatigued expression at most times, which in small moments may change to a softer, more caring look when he feels more relaxed and at home. Crowe is thin, with long lanky limbs that clearly came (and will come) in handy during his work as a tracker. His posture unhealthy, Crowe generally walks hunched forward, as if carrying the weight of his life on his back. His dull red hair hides one of his major signs of his situation - his Hollow hole lies where his left eye socket was, in a twist of fate, and is a source of anxiety for him, as his missing eye was in his living life. In the rare times that Crowe speaks up, he has a soft, tender voice that to some people could be considered soothing.
Crowe usually dresses in coats and trousers that cover as much of his body as possible, to cover the large number of scars that he sustained in his teenage years living in the streets of Rome, and tracking in the surrounding countryside of Italy.. As a result, his body is unnaturally pale, a trait that has only been exacerbated in his time as an Arrancar. In the year he has spent wandering the wasteland of Hueco Mundo, he has pilfered the clothes of humans and others who had been brought to this world - his sole possessions are the brown overcoat and grey trousers he has obtained from said corpses. His Zanpakuto, which does not know the name of, lies at his hip, the sheath hidden beneath his overcoat.
Spiritual Description: In contrast to his rather guarded physical appearance, Crowe's spiritual presence is weak, unassuming, and revealing, a murky grey that reflects the conflict that goes on within his very soul, the dual curiosity and fear that burns whenever he is encountered by other individuals. His Reiatsu reveals Crowe's true feelings - despite his attempts to remain distant and protect himself, and others, his spiritual presence is like a call for help, a yearning for someone, anyone to connect to him and break the distant shell of despair he has created in the centuries since he became a Hollow. When his powerful survival instinct is triggered, in moments of great danger or anxiety, his aura becomes more noticeable, like water boiling within a kettle.
[ BEHIND THE EYES ]
Personality: From a first impression, Crowe could be seen as cold, distant and cut-off from the world around him, and this impression would not be the greatest lie in the world. In truth, Crowe is someone who is in inner conflict with himself. The centuries of isolation have worn away at his being, and he yearns to simply reach out and connect with even one other person, even if he doesn't want to admit this fact to himself. He does not mind being made use of as a tool, much like when he did works for tracking clients; they didn't care about him, but the fact Crowe was helping someone, even if they didn't care about him, did much for his mental state. Without his tracking work, it's likely Crowe would have fallen into true despair at a much younger age.
When talking with others as a human, he would speak soley when absolutely required, only making small talk and perhaps a little more when he actually has built a connection with people. In the rare few times he has spoken to people in Hueco Mundo, he has... actually not spoken at all, simply staring back at them whilst keeping his distance, pointing if they needed directions. He travelled to Los Noches simply so he can be put to use as a tool, much like in tracking days; in addition, he hopes he can possibly just live out the rest of his days in routine, not having to think about his awful situation in life. He has slight suicidal tendencies, but believes that it is impossible for him to kill himself, due to the last attempt as a raving Hollow being what turned him into an Arrancar. Despite his sucidial thoughts that cross his mind from time to time, Crowe harbours a quiet, incredibly powerful survival instinct that he himself is barely aware of. In moments of extreme danger where it would appear Crowe is on the verge of being killed, his minds ticks over to this survival instinct, where Crowe will become imbuded with the will to surivive at any cost - no matter what he has to do to survive this. It takes the form of a mighty beat within his head that overwealms his senses into the ‘fight’ of the flight and fight situation. Once the situation passes and Crowe has calmed, he only has very vague memories of what he has does - usually only releasing in despair after what carnage he has likely conjured.
Crowe is, when it comes to much of his life, a cold person. He curses himself for the new life he has been leashed with, and yearns for the world to let him go. But in the rare times he truly, actually connects with someone, the flickering of a very warm and loving individual emerges, even if just for a moment; if only Crowe had been given a better lot in life, this could have been the norm, and not the exception. But even when he was open with people, mostly his beloved in life, he was at heart still a very shy and quiet person. He has only the most scattered memories of his deceased love from his time as a human - at times, her voice haunts him in moments of anxiety, unaware of who the girl actually is.
His chronic loneliness has led to a simmering self-hatred and cold despair that grows more powerful with each passing day - he holds himself to blame for both his forlorn feelings and his stonewall resistance to anyone who crosses his path throughout his time after death. Since he spends much of his time alone, in both life and death, Crowe is contemplative most of the time. He is constantly thinking, even if it very mundane thoughts. When encountered with an individual, he thinks through every facet of what could happen and how he'll possibly have to deal with the situation.
His chronic loneliness has led to a simmering self-hatred and cold despair that grows more powerful with each passing day - he holds himself to blame for both his forlorn feelings and his stonewall resistance to anyone who crosses his path throughout his time after death. Since he spends much of his time alone, in both life and death, Crowe is contemplative most of the time. He is constantly thinking, even if it very mundane thoughts. When encountered with an individual, he thinks through every facet of what could happen and how he'll possibly have to deal with the situation.
One of the most notable aspects of his social anxiety is his habit of scratching at the back of his neck when he grows nervous - there are more than a few scars from cuts cause by sharp fingernails.
As a human, his interests were small but dedicated - he took delight in watching wildlife, and even more so, watching the constellations of the universe turn above in total silence. In brief moments of lucidity that grew as his evolution progressed, this joy of watching the sky above returned, his one solace gazing at the great void above him.
Goals and Achievements: In life, Crowe was an accomplished tracker, known as the 'Corvo of Italy'. It's one of the view pieces of pride that he holds on to in his new life as an Arrancar, and a skill he makes constant use of eking out an existence in the grand desert of Hueco Mundo. His main goal in seeking out those in Los Noches is so he can be put to use as a tool, much like did for those requesting his services as a tracker in life. He also possesses a fantastic memory, being able to remembers locations well enough to draw them and how to get there after visiting them a single time.
[ GUARDIAN ANGEL ]
Aspect of Death: Despair.
Crowe leaped into battle to save avenge his beloved, the despair of watching her cut down shocking him to his very core. But as he died, the realisation that his beloved would rather he had lived on past her death, rather than die in vain, made despair his final thought of his natural life. Being alone for almost his entire life, the few he grow close to dying before his eyes, the rest viewing him as little more than malformed trash, Crowe feels naturally distant from all beings, feeling that his very presence is a danger to both himself and their lives. This has placed Crowe in a self destructive situation; either he stays away from all and slowly loses his sense of self, or he seeks people out and risks hurting them and himself. No matter what - Crowe loses, in his mind.
Power:Tracking Pulse - After 'marking' his target with his own spiritual power, who is within 50 metres of him, Crowe can track said target at a distance up to fifteen kilometres - as his reiastu perception skill increases, he gains a variety of boons associated with his power; at it's lowest levels it can measure the target's heart rate and predict their rate of movement - at higher levels, Crowe gains an insight into such things as the enemies weak points and the condition of their body and psyche.
Zanpakutō:Crowe's Zanpakuto is a Langes Messer (German for "Long Knife"),that in particular, matches the blade given to him by his deceased love when he was human. Crowe does not know it's name, or exactly the true nature of the blade - but covets and protects it greatly for the sheer reason that he knows it once belonged to his lost love in one sense or another. The blade is fit to the only style of fighting Crowe ever knew - speedy, on-the-move combat, the blade being 60cm in length. The specially designed blade is silver, a long scratch running along its side. The hilt notably has the face of a Fox engraved upon it, and is brown in colour. Crowe sheathes his Messer in a black sheath, which is hidden beneath his overcoat.
[ LEGACY CREATED ]
Origin:To say Crowe lived a hard life would be an understatement. He was born in the city of Rome, Italy, in the year 1497. Abandoned at birth due to being born with only a single eye, left at the doorstep of an orphanage, demonised by the children... yes, Crowe Starazo had a hard life. In his early days, the only love he ever received, be it from a genuine place or pity, came from the kindly owner of the orphanage he lived in. She gave him work to do and rewarded him, keeping him busy so he would not hear the sneers and jeers of the cruel children he lived with. It was hard, but he was happy. But, one day, whilst helping her prepare the evening meal, the kindly owner was taken by a drunken criminal for who-knows-what purposes. The ten year-old Crowe tried to save her, but was knocked unconscious by the jeering drunk. Crowe blamed himself for the death of the woman; he never forgives himself for being so weak as to not be able to help the first person to ever show him kindness. With the orphanage no longer having an owner, officials came to take the children to new homes. Crowe was, by accident or design, forgotten, and left to fend for himself in isolation.
For the next four years, he learnt the city of Rome's every street and alleyway; he would beg for whatever he needed to survive, and when that wasn't enough, he would steal, as much as it pained him. Sometimes, he would sit on the rooftops and watch the families come by; on occasion, he would imagine himself alongside the adults, wishing he had a family to call his own. The boy would often wonder what his parents were like, and what they were doing right now, and why they left him behind. Running a hand over his missing eye was all the answer he ever needed, usually.
In 1501, after a series of events, Crowe helped out a traveller getting some stolen money back from one of the beggars in the city. After getting his money back, the traveller praised Crowe's tracking skills, telling him he'd never seen anyone navigate Rome so quickly. Crowe, embarrassed but modestly happy at the praise, moved on from the encounter pretty quickly. But a few weeks later, a worker found him, telling him the traveller told him about his tracking skills, and he needed some help now. Over the next two years, Crowe's skills provided him with consistent income and got him off the streets. Whilst the sequesters never thought much of him once he got what they needed, Crowe enjoyed the bit of attention that was spent on him, making him feel that was some reason he was still alive.
When he was sixteen, on a run of the mill mission to locate the lair of some bandits, Crowe had a fateful encounter. After locating the camp, Crowe turned to leave and report his information to his client. Standing literally half a metre behind him was a girl with a light orange outfit in addition to a hand-made fox-like hood. The snow-white haired girl could've only been a year older, and she was beaming in his direction. Explaining that she was the true client for the job, as she wanted to see how good a tracker he was. The girl, whose name was Sara, stated she was a bounty hunter, and as she said this, strode into the cave and took down the three bandits hiding within. Sara later caught up with Crowe at his room at the inn he stayed at; she wanted to combine their skills and reach even greater heights. Crowe was pretty reluctant to take this step; for one, he didn't even know this girl, and he grown accustomed to his lifestyle, the fear that any change to it would bring all that he loved crumbling down. Sara smiled at him. "I'm not going to force you to do anything." She beamed, patting him on the shoulder. "But I think you've got real talent, and I think together we can bring out the best in you." Embarrassed, but low-key pleased about someone taking such an interest in him, he agreed.
Sara was right; with their combined skills, they could take on a new level of jobs, much more complicated or dangerous then the ones Crowe or Sara would take on alone. It took a while for Sara to coax Crowe out of his shell, but soon he began to open up to her and tell her about his life, and the struggle it has been. The two, who grew closer and after a couple of years working together, admitted to the deep romance blooming between them. The two were very happy together, and for the first time in nearly nine years, Crowe felt true joy to be around someone, wanting to share his life and all that came with it with his beloved. He slowly became more outgoing, willing to try new things. Sara only once ever remarked about his missing eye; she simply said that it was one of the many things that made Crowe, Crowe. For his nineteenth birthday, Sara gave Crowe a special blade, a Langes Messer, to fit his normal hit-and-run fighting style, as she'd been worried he wouldn't be able to handle well-armed opponents.
This fear would come true a few months after Crowe turned twenty. On a mission gone wrong, Sara was captured by a half-dozen band of criminals. As Crowe watched from the bushes, as arranged beforehand, he watched on in horror as a blade was driven through Sara's chest. An eruption of rage and despair ran through Crowe's veins, and drawing the blade Sara gave him, leaped from the bushes and drove it through the bandit's head. The pure elation he felt from his foolish act of revenge was short lived, as five blades struck his abdomen in retaliation. Collapsing, Crowe didn't care; without his beloved, there was no point being alive. Avenging her death gave his own death meaning, and he could die at peace. Rolling his head to the right to take one last look at Sara, he found her staring back at him in horror, words slipping out of her mouth as the life left her.
"I... wanted... you... to... live...on..." Each of the gasped words was like a thousands daggers in Crowe as he watched her slowly die, the two far beyond any help. Despair consumed him as he screamed the last of his life out, wishing he'd never crossed paths with Sara and led her to such a pointless death. Crowe died in alone, in a self hatred that burned like the hottest fire, no one remembering that he had ever lived at all.
It wasn't long after his death Crowe's spirit was devoured by a great frog-like Hollow. In the wastes of Hueco Mundo, Crowe was reborn as a tall bird-esque Hollow, his intelligence thrust aside by nothing more then base, bestial instincts. For two hundred years the creature "Crowe" had become ate its way across Hueco Mundo, devouring as many Hollow as he possibly could. For the most part, Crowe's actual consciousness remained dormant, but occasionally, he'd have moments where he'd be aware of his actions. As a Hollow, Crowe emerged head and shoulders above much of the garden-variety Hollow; soon, after consuming a particularly powerful Hollow, Crowe began to mutate, the mass of Hollow souls he had consumed turning him into the beast known as the Gillan.
For the next four years, he learnt the city of Rome's every street and alleyway; he would beg for whatever he needed to survive, and when that wasn't enough, he would steal, as much as it pained him. Sometimes, he would sit on the rooftops and watch the families come by; on occasion, he would imagine himself alongside the adults, wishing he had a family to call his own. The boy would often wonder what his parents were like, and what they were doing right now, and why they left him behind. Running a hand over his missing eye was all the answer he ever needed, usually.
In 1501, after a series of events, Crowe helped out a traveller getting some stolen money back from one of the beggars in the city. After getting his money back, the traveller praised Crowe's tracking skills, telling him he'd never seen anyone navigate Rome so quickly. Crowe, embarrassed but modestly happy at the praise, moved on from the encounter pretty quickly. But a few weeks later, a worker found him, telling him the traveller told him about his tracking skills, and he needed some help now. Over the next two years, Crowe's skills provided him with consistent income and got him off the streets. Whilst the sequesters never thought much of him once he got what they needed, Crowe enjoyed the bit of attention that was spent on him, making him feel that was some reason he was still alive.
When he was sixteen, on a run of the mill mission to locate the lair of some bandits, Crowe had a fateful encounter. After locating the camp, Crowe turned to leave and report his information to his client. Standing literally half a metre behind him was a girl with a light orange outfit in addition to a hand-made fox-like hood. The snow-white haired girl could've only been a year older, and she was beaming in his direction. Explaining that she was the true client for the job, as she wanted to see how good a tracker he was. The girl, whose name was Sara, stated she was a bounty hunter, and as she said this, strode into the cave and took down the three bandits hiding within. Sara later caught up with Crowe at his room at the inn he stayed at; she wanted to combine their skills and reach even greater heights. Crowe was pretty reluctant to take this step; for one, he didn't even know this girl, and he grown accustomed to his lifestyle, the fear that any change to it would bring all that he loved crumbling down. Sara smiled at him. "I'm not going to force you to do anything." She beamed, patting him on the shoulder. "But I think you've got real talent, and I think together we can bring out the best in you." Embarrassed, but low-key pleased about someone taking such an interest in him, he agreed.
Sara was right; with their combined skills, they could take on a new level of jobs, much more complicated or dangerous then the ones Crowe or Sara would take on alone. It took a while for Sara to coax Crowe out of his shell, but soon he began to open up to her and tell her about his life, and the struggle it has been. The two, who grew closer and after a couple of years working together, admitted to the deep romance blooming between them. The two were very happy together, and for the first time in nearly nine years, Crowe felt true joy to be around someone, wanting to share his life and all that came with it with his beloved. He slowly became more outgoing, willing to try new things. Sara only once ever remarked about his missing eye; she simply said that it was one of the many things that made Crowe, Crowe. For his nineteenth birthday, Sara gave Crowe a special blade, a Langes Messer, to fit his normal hit-and-run fighting style, as she'd been worried he wouldn't be able to handle well-armed opponents.
This fear would come true a few months after Crowe turned twenty. On a mission gone wrong, Sara was captured by a half-dozen band of criminals. As Crowe watched from the bushes, as arranged beforehand, he watched on in horror as a blade was driven through Sara's chest. An eruption of rage and despair ran through Crowe's veins, and drawing the blade Sara gave him, leaped from the bushes and drove it through the bandit's head. The pure elation he felt from his foolish act of revenge was short lived, as five blades struck his abdomen in retaliation. Collapsing, Crowe didn't care; without his beloved, there was no point being alive. Avenging her death gave his own death meaning, and he could die at peace. Rolling his head to the right to take one last look at Sara, he found her staring back at him in horror, words slipping out of her mouth as the life left her.
"I... wanted... you... to... live...on..." Each of the gasped words was like a thousands daggers in Crowe as he watched her slowly die, the two far beyond any help. Despair consumed him as he screamed the last of his life out, wishing he'd never crossed paths with Sara and led her to such a pointless death. Crowe died in alone, in a self hatred that burned like the hottest fire, no one remembering that he had ever lived at all.
It wasn't long after his death Crowe's spirit was devoured by a great frog-like Hollow. In the wastes of Hueco Mundo, Crowe was reborn as a tall bird-esque Hollow, his intelligence thrust aside by nothing more then base, bestial instincts. For two hundred years the creature "Crowe" had become ate its way across Hueco Mundo, devouring as many Hollow as he possibly could. For the most part, Crowe's actual consciousness remained dormant, but occasionally, he'd have moments where he'd be aware of his actions. As a Hollow, Crowe emerged head and shoulders above much of the garden-variety Hollow; soon, after consuming a particularly powerful Hollow, Crowe began to mutate, the mass of Hollow souls he had consumed turning him into the beast known as the Gillan.
Rise to Power: It had been nearing three hundred years Crowe had spent in the mass of Hollow souls that comprised the great Gillan. Much of that time he had no memory of. But, year by year, decade by decade, his awareness returned and he came to terms with the fact that he was alone in this hellish afterlife. The kind of Hollows he had preyed on when he was a garden-variety creature no longer even came near the Gillan he had become the head of. The souls that consisted of his great powers were not truly a part of him; he was monstrous, and yet he was alone. He trudged the land of Hueco Mundo for hundreds of years as his true consciousness slowly burned back to life, the despair of his isolation growing with each passing day. At the turn of the millennia in the human world, Crowe finally regained his true senses, and deemed his existence unjustified.
Taking his own fate into his hands, Crowe steered his Gillan body to a large outcropping of razor-sharp rocks. Committing himself to his fate, he lurched forward, falling upon the rocks in attempt to end his life and put an end to the feelings that was eroding is entire self.
Crowe was unsure how long it was before he regained awareness of the world around him. It could very much have been years. The first thing he realised upon waking up was that he appeared human once more. For a brief, wonderful moment, he thought the nightmare of a monster he'd become was simply a dream; but the great, vast desert around him, the piece of bone-like mask latched to his shoulder, and the clean hole through his missing eye reminded him that he was very much still a monster, just something... different. All Crowe had was a short blade by his side, that he gripped so hard it was like it was his heart. He didn’t know what it was, or why he had it. The fox insignia at it’s hilt awoke something inside him, like a memory on the edge of his mind. But no matter how far he reached for it, it always remained far. And all he thought was… why? Why was he still here, despite two deaths to his name. Why was he alone in the desert, a monster with a blade?
Crowe glanced back at the blade in his hand, smirking to himself as he realised what was happening.
"This is my punishment, isn't it?" He murmured, staring out at the moon that remained in the sky, like a painting on a wall. "For my sins." He had failed to protect the owner of the orphanage as a child, failed to save his beloved and died in a pointless gesture to avenge her. The fact he hadn't died in his suicide attempt was proof enough that his role was to wander the wastes forever - to live with the fact that the few people he'd grown close to had died because he wasn't strong or smart enough. Perhaps the blade that he now held in his hand was witness to this, a constant reminder of the life he could' not now remember... And now he was to be alone, forever and ever. As a human, as a soul, as a Hollow, and finally, an Arrancar. Crowe felt hatred cling to his body, but he did not despair too much.
For Crowe deemed this is what he truly deserved.
Taking his own fate into his hands, Crowe steered his Gillan body to a large outcropping of razor-sharp rocks. Committing himself to his fate, he lurched forward, falling upon the rocks in attempt to end his life and put an end to the feelings that was eroding is entire self.
Crowe was unsure how long it was before he regained awareness of the world around him. It could very much have been years. The first thing he realised upon waking up was that he appeared human once more. For a brief, wonderful moment, he thought the nightmare of a monster he'd become was simply a dream; but the great, vast desert around him, the piece of bone-like mask latched to his shoulder, and the clean hole through his missing eye reminded him that he was very much still a monster, just something... different. All Crowe had was a short blade by his side, that he gripped so hard it was like it was his heart. He didn’t know what it was, or why he had it. The fox insignia at it’s hilt awoke something inside him, like a memory on the edge of his mind. But no matter how far he reached for it, it always remained far. And all he thought was… why? Why was he still here, despite two deaths to his name. Why was he alone in the desert, a monster with a blade?
Crowe glanced back at the blade in his hand, smirking to himself as he realised what was happening.
"This is my punishment, isn't it?" He murmured, staring out at the moon that remained in the sky, like a painting on a wall. "For my sins." He had failed to protect the owner of the orphanage as a child, failed to save his beloved and died in a pointless gesture to avenge her. The fact he hadn't died in his suicide attempt was proof enough that his role was to wander the wastes forever - to live with the fact that the few people he'd grown close to had died because he wasn't strong or smart enough. Perhaps the blade that he now held in his hand was witness to this, a constant reminder of the life he could' not now remember... And now he was to be alone, forever and ever. As a human, as a soul, as a Hollow, and finally, an Arrancar. Crowe felt hatred cling to his body, but he did not despair too much.
For Crowe deemed this is what he truly deserved.
Call to Action: Even though he had regained his sense of self, time held little meaning for Crowe. He wandered the wastes of Hueco Mundo as an Arrancar, a term he learnt from the hushed gasps of lesser beings he would rarely encounter in the vast desert. For much of the seven years he spent listlessly walking, he kept away from the vast castle of Los Noches. In that place there was nothing for him, only people he could bring himself to see. People, who he could do nothing but stay away, both for his protection and theirs. Crowe was alone, a stranger in a stranger land, the aura of self-hatred and self-imposed anguish forever branded upon his form.
It was this way for seven long years. Every day, the despair and self-loathing that had been burning inside Crowe ever since he was a Gillan grew, and grew, and grew. Crowe knew he wouldn't die naturally, and probably not even if he tried to kill himself again. But the emotions building inside himself is what ultimately turned him, finally, towards Los Noches. One way or another, he'd find what he was looking for. On one hand, he may find use as a tool of Los Noches, much like his time as a tracker in life. On the other other hand, he was sure the work carried out by those in Los Noches may be dangerous, even to a lethal extent. In any case, remaining out in the desert, in self-imposed exile from all others, would eventually leave Crowe empty of feeling all together, and when that moment came, Crowe knew that he had truly ceased to be the man Crowe Starazo. So, Los Noches was now his destination, come what may.
And if Crowe was to die in the line of work...? Perhaps that wouldn't be too awful, Crowe mused, as Los Noches rose before him, the next step of his destiny ahead of him.
It was this way for seven long years. Every day, the despair and self-loathing that had been burning inside Crowe ever since he was a Gillan grew, and grew, and grew. Crowe knew he wouldn't die naturally, and probably not even if he tried to kill himself again. But the emotions building inside himself is what ultimately turned him, finally, towards Los Noches. One way or another, he'd find what he was looking for. On one hand, he may find use as a tool of Los Noches, much like his time as a tracker in life. On the other other hand, he was sure the work carried out by those in Los Noches may be dangerous, even to a lethal extent. In any case, remaining out in the desert, in self-imposed exile from all others, would eventually leave Crowe empty of feeling all together, and when that moment came, Crowe knew that he had truly ceased to be the man Crowe Starazo. So, Los Noches was now his destination, come what may.
And if Crowe was to die in the line of work...? Perhaps that wouldn't be too awful, Crowe mused, as Los Noches rose before him, the next step of his destiny ahead of him.
