Post by Tristan White on Feb 9, 2018 6:44:47 GMT -5
WHITE, TRISTAN
FIFTH DIVISION/ UNSEATED
[ AT A GLANCE ]
Age / Apparent Age: 26 at the age of death, 22 in appearance, overall age 97
Gender: Male
Height & Weight: 6'1" & 178 lbs
Hair & Eye Color: shaggy off grey hair which drops in shaggy length to his shoulders with pale blue and grey predatorial eyes.
Positive Traits: Loyal, Respectful, Trustworthy
Negative Traits: Stubborn, Impulsive, Argumentative
Loyalties: Tristan is loyal to the Gotei, the Captain Commander and of course his Captain who he holds great respect for.
Snapshots:
Born (1918)
Joined RAF (1939)
KIA (1944)
Plus (4 Days)
Rukongai/ Hanging Dog (1944-1975)
Training (1975- 1961)
Div 5: (1961 - 2015)
[ ON THE SURFACE ]
Physical Description: Tristan stands at a somewhat tall 6 ft 1. Being a young man, Tristan is of a muscular build giving his years of boxing, his chest and arm muscles are very well defined and although they are somewhat large they hold a lot of flexibility compared to those of a bodybuilder. This also is apparent in his movements as you can see he is a huge man. However, Tristan moves with the grace of a dancer by which I mean he does not stomp around but rather hold himself with self-respect and poise. Tristan smells of the sea which is strange considering he does not come in any part from a place by the sea yet it connects with his zanpakuto spirit giving his love for the wind in the air and sky. his gun bolt grey hair sits messily on top of his head spiking downward and drooping in various directions. his silver-blue eyes resemble that of a wolf and are a tad unnerving to stare into for long periods of time. sitting just above his left eye is a somewhat unique brand which he was branded with after falling upon hard times in the Rukongai. His general facial features consist of a clean straight nose and chiselled jawline. His facial hair consists of a small tuft on his chin which is kept tidy with the rest of his face being clean-shaven, his skin which is remarkably soft is a tanned white, typical for the British climate he accustomed to. Although his eyes are uneasy his smile is very warm and friendly often depicted as more of a cheeky smirk or grin it is not very often that you see him with happy look on his face however you can certainly tell when he is in a bad mood as his brow is usually furrowed which increases the darkness of his eyes. Given his size and build you would imagine Tristan's voice to be somewhat crude and harsh but instead is more like liquid honey with a rich baritone which you could believe coming from the Voices if only the most celebrated crooners.
Spiritual Description: Tristan's Reiatsu appears and feels very predatorial and animalistic. An example is that it is comparable to the same way you would feel if you entered a sauna regarding the pressure. It appears to hit over others with a sense of heat and gives off the same feeling that one would have when being watched, a somewhat unnerving but commanding presence. The overall shape taken in one's mind's eye would be more depicted as a pair of large yellow wolf eyes in a shimmer of wind which encases his body and moulds to his shape.
[ BEHIND THE EYES ]
Personality: Tristan is a caring man deep down, however, he keeps a tough exterior and keeps his emotional walls up mostly but still hold the same kind smile and temperament. He has almost always looked jovial and happy with the occasional resting bitch face. Tristan does have a habit of making comments about topics that most would not yet his smiling appearance permits him to get away with more than most would. Tristan has a slightly dark sense of humour that most find a bit odd, for example; He finds the idea of dying when you're already dead laughable which most others certainly don't. His competitive nature brings out some of the worst in him especially when it comes to strategic games and even drinking games. He will go so far as to pass out before quitting on a drinking game. Tristan is open about most things except for his time in the Rukongai which in his eyes is nothing more than a nightmare. However, he will happily sit for hours and listen to others stories and trade a few of his own, such as how he acquired his somewhat unique brand.
Tristan has an extreme sense of honour and will almost always refuse to steal for his benefit, be it for food or water he will not take anything without asking he would much rather make a trade or politely ask for such things. Even though he is not of noble blood he believes very firmly in a nobleman’s code and its resemblance to that of a knight and lives by these immortal words; “A Shinigami is sworn to valour. His heart knows only virtue. His Zanpakuto defends the helpless. His might upholds the weak. His word speaks only truth. His wrath undoes the wicked.”
Loyalty stems from his time as a plus, when he was attacked by a Hollow but was saved by a nearby Shinigami. As a pledge of allegiance to the Shinigami that protected him, he vowed to one day become a Shinigami himself so that they could fight together. Masayoshi will never back down from a fight if it places his friend's lives on the line and will gladly sacrifice himself to protect them. His true allegiance will always be to the fifth Squad and the Captain commander. Masayoshi’s code also prevents him from attacking an opponent who is unwilling to fight; He will, however, give prior warning to an opponent if they have caused a grievance against him or is a Hollow.
He very respectful and will only draw his zanpakuto to fight an enemy, to train or to improve his bond with his spirit. Tristan does not believe in flaunting one's power and becomes agitated if he sees anyone doing so for the amusement of others or to intimidate innocents. Growing up in Hanging Dog Tristan grew accustomed to fist fights and protecting himself, this is evolved his respect for hand to hand combat and would much rather disable an opponent via less-lethal methods using Hoho and Hakuda over the option of drawing his zanpakuto and spilling blood. He also has a firm belief in trust and giving everyone an equal chance, even though his past has shown that some people (namely his Father) cannot be trusted, he is always willing to make his assumptions about a person instead of listening to idle gossip. Although Tristan is prepared to award his trust to almost anyone, he is very unforgiving when it is broken and will most certainly not trust that person again.
Finally, his sense of humour which although is quite dry and dark, he will always attempt to make others laugh, and he will still make a joke of the direst of situations claiming it to be; “not his day”. This has become somewhat of a trademark as he is in an almost constant state of terrible luck. Although his luck is decidedly bad, he will always laugh off whatever has happened and even joke about dying if it will lighten the mood.
Goals & Achievements: Tristan's main ambition from a child was to be one with the wind and sky, but now he has set his aim of becoming a member of the elite. After gaining admission to the fifth division, he now seeks to become a seated officer and perhaps one day become the lieutenant if given the opportunity.
[ GUARDIAN ANGEL ]
Zanpakutō Spirit: Tristan’s Zanpakuto spirit is Kikenkaze which translates as; ‘deadly wind.’ She initially appears to be very calm and usually a peaceful and almost lazy spirit, but beneath that demeanour lies a much more violent and sadistic spirit. Her mood changes like the wind as her dual personalities make her a handful to deal with and sometimes even uncooperative. She’s rather unpredictable and argumentative if she doesn’t get her own way, which will often lead to her child form arguing till she gets to play or at least have Tristan’s full attention. Even though she can be quite a handful at times, she is very playful with her master and often will want him to sit with her and talk about the world and where they will go together.
Unfortunately, Kikenkaze’s other half is not quite so gentle, as her grown-up self-represents her lust for battle and her unwillingness to listen to anyone but herself. Her older self is more like the tomboyish big sister as she will often pounce on and attack Masayoshi purely for her amusement. Although he has grown used to her temper and aggressive ways, when calm she is knowledgeable and assists Tristan in a lot of his tactical decisions. She also has an aptitude for finding anything to wind Tristan up by making the wind blow her dress or pretending to be cute and innocent. Her two forms are as follows;
When she is relaxed and happy, she takes the form of a small girl wearing what appears to be a school uniform which consists of an off-grey knee high pleated skirt, a white shirt sleeve collared shirt and a pale mustard vest top. She has soft snow-white hair which comes to the base of her spine and bounces on top of her head and around her fringe which drops in bangs which frame her face. Her wolf ears sit on the top of her head, and she has a small pink flower which she pins just next to her left ear. Her face is petite and framed by the way she holds her hair, her nose and lips are petite excluding her wondrous, big aqua blue eyes. She doesn't wear any shoes or socks, as her appearance is drawn upon the innocence of a child and her clothing is basic and simplistic. She will also refer to Tristan as “Big Brother” in this form with a voice that resembles a 10-12-year-old girl. Her overall height in this form is 4 foot 4 inches tall.
When she becomes angry or enters battle, she undergoes a metamorphosis via the pool and becomes more a sadistic dominatrix. Her hair grows crimson red but maintains the length of her childish form, she has a delicate little nose and small soft lips, her voice resembles that of 18-20-year-old females with a particular husk to it which would resemble Tristan's baritone. Her eyes, much like hair are a soft crimson which appears mystifying and demonic. Her outfit now is a tight fitted, front zipped gore red and white dress, which comes to just above her thighs. The sleeves tips and bottom of the dress fade into a lighter shade of pinkish red.
The sleeves have white frilling coming outwards to cover her wrists much like the French aristocracy of the 1700’s. She also wears thigh-high black and white diagonally stripped socks and no shoes. She keeps her hair wrapped up in a rough bun. She also wears distinctive green apple earrings about the size of a fifty pence piece, which hang around the top of her neck. Her overall height is 5 foot 6 inches tall with a slender, athletic build.
Inner World: Kikenkaze’s inner world resembles a giant open pond with a blue sky that surrounds the small area as a full circular mirror. The skies are blue with low white clouds. However, there is no sigh of the sun, but it is always light and warm. The water is scattered with cherry blossoms flower petals and small white water lilies dancing on the top of the water but never making it ripple, the water is a Caribbean Sea blue, and you can see down to where there is nothing beneath but a reflection of themselves. Kikenkaze can walk on water but never once makes a ripple or changes the flow of the water.
kikenkaze also switches to another world for when Tristan and herself train and hone their resonance. This second world takes the form of a forest with mighty trees, varying with varieties from Oak, Pine, Cherry blossom, Fir and Birch. The area itself is like a small clearing with a fallen tree in the centre that has moss growing on top of it, and there is also a beautiful light green moss that is mixed into the grass and is soft to the touch. The flowers that surround the area and dotted around are mostly mixed red and white Roses excluding the Cherry Blossom petals. The woodland much like the pond is completely silent, there is no outside noise or birds chirping unless Kikenkaze wishes there to be. The only sound created is by Kikenkaze creating wind or some noises to soothe Tristan when meditating during resonance.
Power: Kikenkaze's Overall ability is the ability to conceal hidden shards of her blade within torrents of wind, whatever size they may be. This is done in the wind currents that surround her in Shikai which extends to 4 inches from the blades of her tonfas.
Zanpakutō: Kikenkaze takes the form of a straight bladed katana in her sealed form with a black hilt and no guard. The blade itself is 27 inches from grip to the tip of the blade, and the blade itself is 1 and a half inches wide. The handle is 11 and a half inches in length. She also has a small inscription on the inside of the blade that reads; "Death is only the beginning". The sheath is entirely black excluding a single white stripe that goes to the length of the edge and its length is 29 and a half inches in total.
Release and Shikai Appearance: The blade is held horizontally parallel to the ground, the tip of the blade facing to the right. Once this release word is spoken KikenKaze takes her Shikai form, her sealed form disintegrates as if being blown away and reforms in Tristan's hands as dual thin bladed Tonfa Swords. The length of each blade is twenty-six and a half inches, and the handles are six and a half inches in diameter and reinforced at the core. The grips and metals are a matte black and very light to hold. The blades themselves are slanted downwards at the tip to accommodate a softer and swifter slicing motion during attacks as well as allowing a higher protective aspect. Further down the blade almost parallel with the hilt are indents and serrated edges, these are optimal and a very gruesome asset as the blade makes contact with the skin it acts much like a shark tooth, ripping and traumatizing the skin making it near impossible to heal without proper medical attention.
[ LEGACY CREATED ]
Origin: Tristan was born in Chester England in the summer of 1918. His family was a higher middle-class family who lived on the outskirts of the city of Chester, England in a small town called Tarporley. Tristan went to a private school and was quickly recognised as a bright and caring young man you had a love for the sky and would often voice his wish to become a pilot since the advancements that had been made within aviation and would not relinquish his dream for when he grew up. His parents, namely his father believed this goal of his to be a waste of his talents as an academic and continually forced him into more academic pursuits in an attempt to force him away from his dream and into a more publically appreciated career. Tristan was sadly accustomed to being presented to the Jekyll and Hyde complex that plagued his family with one side which was most commonly seen by the outside world of a higher middle-class family who cared deeply for one another and upheld a robust moral code and was well respected by all members of The Village and neighbouring towns. Behind closed doors it was a very different story as Tristan's father, James drank heavily and would often take to beating his Tristan's mother for the pettiest of things, things as small as not dusting which in Tristan's eyes was infuriating as they had a maid to do their cleaning. As aforementioned the family was wealthy enough to be able to afford a maid who often witnessed many of these events but was paid not to say anything to the authorities.
Tristan would quite often be on the receiving end of his father's anger being faced with being whipped, beaten, left outside in the cold and many other horrific tortures which he was forced to undergo. As he got older, he became more of a tower of a man both in height and muscle mass compared to the weak boy who his father would beat upon when the feeling arose. Tristan quickly learnt from a young age how to box at his father's request which ironically would later become his undoing. Tristan had a very strong bond with his mother knowing full well the Horrors that she had to withstand from his father. Tristan in an attempt to protect his mother would quite often interrupt their fights which more often than not ended up with him receiving a beating as well as her, that was until just after Tristan's 18th birthday when he was faced with another confrontation with his father over the wellbeing of his mother. It was after boxing practice one evening when he came home to see his father relentlessly beating his mother, Jane. Tristan infuriated from years of abuse and seeing his mother treated so poorly lashed out going against his father with years of boxing technique that he had learnt, honed, mixed with rage from years of pain and torture. He took his father head on and through the Relentless skirmish Tristan ended up beating his father to death much to The horror of his mother. Disgusted he fled the house and took to living on the streets fighting in back alleys and taking unsavoury money to protect others.
Tristan found a ray of hope however at the start of the second world war in 1939. He joined the RAF as a pilot quickly realising his dream for many years ago, it was not long before Tristan's superiors saw his raw talent as a pilot willing to push the plane and himself far beyond the other raw recruits. It was not long before Tristan head gained quite a name for himself as an accomplished pilot and within a few years, the plans of D-Day were put into action. Tristan had undergone countless practise runs and had even met the Luftwaffe on several occasions claiming prize after prize. Tristan was given command of his troop to assist the ground troops via air support and draw the attention of the inland forces of the Axis powers. It was a battle that took thousands of casualties and as such Tristan was one of them, being shot down by an anti-aircraft gun while attempting to provide cover for the landing forces, even though Tristan's plane was shot down he still managed to survive several hours, holding the ground that enveloped his beloved plane. Tristan was unwilling to leave the plane that Tristan so loved and that had put him into the sky and surrounded him with the wind and power of the elements that he so adored. He took his final stand upon her broken remains against German infantry, when the last bullet hit his chest he lay dying. Tristan remained staring into the sky and felt the cool breeze on his face and even though he knew that he was going to die It made him feel at peace to be able to look into the sky that he so loved.
When he awoke, he had believed it a dream looking out across the battlefield that he could hear around him. He could hear and see the gunfire still surrounding the area around him as he looked across to where his beloved plane still sat as the embers still engulfed her carcass. He attempted to grab a gun to still protect what remained of his beloved plane however when his hand passed through it over and over he realised that he was no longer in the world of the living and even as he moved to attack a German soldier his body passed right through his opponent. He fell to his knees in anger and anguish more to the fact that he was unable to protect the one thing that he still indeed had left, and yet he could only stare on in agony at the loss of his plane. It was the first time he'd ever encountered or indeed thought of the idea of an afterlife, and as he stared out at across the Battlefield, he could sense sinister intention all around him and indeed after several days of continuous gunfire and battle a hollow appeared. He didn't know what the monster was, but every inch of him knew that it was something that could destroy him. He was only able to run and to stand in front of this plane ready to Sacrifice himself once more rather than see any more damage done however as the creature came closer and closer he realised how pointless his task was. The beast stood a comfortable eight feet tall. Black scaly skin with bone white pincers and mask like some lunatic killer. He felt his soul shake, standing as a lone man against such an adversary until another presence appeared, one that filled him with light and hope. As if by magic a woman robed in black leapt forward and engaged the creature in a battle that he could not put into words. He saw The Clash of white bone and steel before the hollow finally fell to her blade.
"You're a stupid bastard you know that? Why didn't you just run?"
"It's not in my nature... I protect what I care about."
"... You have guts kid..."
The woman came to him and explained that she was a shinigami, a warden of the afterlife, who had seen his valour on the battlefield and would pass him over to the Rukongai. Although Tristan didn't really know much about what this beautiful, scarred lady was talking about he accepted her words with much more acceptance than he would normally have given to anyone.
Tristan awoke to find himself in a place he had never come across before it was very oriental in design although he could not remember why he had come to be where he felt as though he had a purpose to which he had to fulfil. He made his way out into the town, and after enquiring from various sources, he found that it was called 'Hanging Dog', not a friendly name and indeed the name represented the place as it was a hive of scum and villainy. The people of Hanging Dog loved to watch the weak and feeble crumble beneath their boot not caring who lay beneath it; women and children included. Tristan was unsure of what path to take in this new life decided that it would be better for him to hide in these deplorable places until he figured out his true calling. Twenty years he worked as an Enforcer; however, he made it quite clear to his employers that he would only take force on those that he deemed worthy of his wrath and would refuse to cause any harm to women or children. He would often find himself at night in one of the many drinking holes around the broken district and on one such night he encountered the beauty unlike any he had come across before. A woman with long blonde hair and a scar down her right eye and even though she bore that scar it had a beauty to it wish you could not explain her finesse and grace mesmerised him.
After picking up the courage to speak to her and buy her a drink the two eventually warmed up to one another that was until her father arrived. A somewhat ruthless crime Lord by the name of Han who even though he had encountered Tristan on several occasions took the matter of him flirting with his daughter not very well. It took over ten guards to be able to take Tristan down, and when he awoke, he found himself in a dark Dungeon chained to each wall pinning his arms, to his right lay a fire pit with several metal rods sticking outward. He knew that he was in a bad way and even laughed at the at the idea that you could die when you were already dead. When Han arrived with several of his guards he stated;
"Come on Tristan... We had so many good times together! remember those peasants you wouldn't take out?"
"Can't say I do Han... But tell ya what, you let me out of here, and I'm sure it may jog my memory." His eyes narrowed as the fat little man took a step back.
"Oh I know full well what you are capable of my boy, let's just get this over and done with huh?"
Han walks in front of Tristan back and forth like a wild cat in front of its prey before reaching into the burning fire and pulling forth the poker baring the white-hot brand. It was a brand that Tristan knew well it was one given to outcasts, People who had betrayed the crime Lords for whatever reason and were, therefore, cast out themselves.
" Sorry about this kid but business is business."
"Sure... Whatever you got to do to keep your pockets lined huh?"
"You think this is about money? This is because you flirted with my daughter and I simply can't have that, but yeah when we needed a job done and pussy about because of women and children? Yeah, that pisses me off, so it's out on the streets you go."
The brand connected with Tristan's face as he screamed out in pain and slumped forward with a cackle leaving his lips as his pale silver eyes glared up at Han with a passion he had only seen on occasions he wished he could forget.
"We done here? Good... See you round Han."
Han ran into the streets as the guards released the locks and made a bolt for the door. Only one made it into the light.
Sitting in the bar outside of Hanging Dog he could do all but lick his wounds with sake. Unsure of what would be the best action to take before a woman he recognised sat next to him pulling a drink from the bar and staring at him for several minutes before a rumble came from his chest, his eyes pale silver glared at her;
"What do you want?"
"Calm down kid. You don't remember who saved your ass? Fucking piss ant."
"You..."
"Yes, me. Why do you have that brand on your head? What did you do." Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel her pressure like an ocean on top of him.
"I betrayed a crime lord, namely flirted with his daughter... But I made it pretty clear I wouldn't hurt innocents, and it doesn't go down well in Hanging Dog."
"That's where you showed up? Shit. No wonder you look like Hueco Mundo shit you out..." She rolled her glass in her hand for a moment.
"If you wanna make a difference and save the people who need saving then go to the shinigami academy... If you are still that guy I saved all those years ago, then we could do with someone like you. Now stop acting like a pansy and move."
Tristan looked down and stared at his glass for a while before turning back to see that she had gone. He sat there contemplating his own existence before deciding he may now have a purpose once more.
Rise to Power: Tristan had followed the directions he had received and was starting his time in the Academy. He took his time there very seriously and did well in his Hakuda, and Hoho classes but could never get to grips at all with Kido. To this him, it just wasn’t his style, and although he excelled in his other classes, he barely made it through Kido. However, Tristan's most significant achievement was in Zanjutsu. He impressed his teachers with the unwillingness to give up and his determination to win, a skill he picked up from his time in Hanging Dog and in truth it was those times that he drew from to give him strength. All of the innocents he wasn't able to save because a boss stood there with more goons than he was capable of defeating on his own.
He didn’t spend much time making friends or even making attempts at his female classmates. He just wanted to get started as his time as a Shinigami and thank that particular Shinigami with her somewhat abusive guidance.
Tristan practised religiously with his Asauchi, and eventually, the blade began to change its form, he could feel its grip match his, the blade pressed light and graceful in his hand, yet where other classmates had blade guards, his did not? ‘I wonder what that’s about? I mean don’t I need to defend?’ He would ponder this fact for hours at a time when he was sat in the woods meditating under some trees; the wind was soft and comforting as the day was sweltering. A bead of sweat fell down his brow, and he felt the wind shift."Stupid wind…" he muttered under his breath, that was until he heard a reply.
“Who you calling stupid you big meanie?!”
Tristan opened his eyes to find him standing on a still pond with a small white haired girl, with wolf ears stood opposite him, head tilted to one side, a single ear twitched, she scratched it and blinked for a moment before running and pouncing upon him screaming with a massive smile;
“Brother! You made it at last! I hoped if I kept talking you’d hear my voice one day! Yay! Now I get to see my big brother all the time!” The girl mused as her ears twitched playfully with a grin.
“I… Well… What is your name I suppose?” Tristan seemed too shocked that he’d made contact with the spirit to come out with anything logical
"Brother! How can you say that! Big sister is going to get really mad at you for that! Uhuh.” She bounced up and ran over to the centre of the pond; the Lilies bobbed peacefully on the water top.
“My name is Kikenkaze, and I am your zanpakuto! Isn’t it exciting? But you should meet big sister too; she’s going to be awful mad though…” With this the little girl smiled, ears flopping happily before she sunk into the water and another girl entered from the still pool. He stared in disbelief, he couldn’t believe his eyes, the girls looked so similar and even though both were so beautiful this new girl had the feel of death to her, a predator in her natural habitat.
"Hey dumbass?! What do you think you’re playing at forgetting my god damn name!" This new girl was a polar opposite of the innocent he had seen before, and this new spirit was more brash and abrasive like sandpaper to the skin. She glided over to him before clutching his neck in her hand, flipping him and pressing her foot to his head; "You call yourself my master, and you didn’t even know my name? Are you serious!" This new girl seemed to get pleasure from causing the discomfort.
Tristan pushed himself up and expressed his sincere apologies for not knowing but he was far too in shock to have known what to say.
The two sat together and spoke for what seemed like days, and they acquainted each other with their presence yet Tristan had to keep averting his eyes when a tiny gust of wind would attack Kikenkaze’s short dress.
“You know my name means ‘deadly wind’ right… so who do you think controls the wind?” She gave a devilish grin as she sat back; “I just love seeing you squirm every time I make the wind blow” She let out a mischievous laugh then looked back at him with a menacing look. “ Now listen to me Tristan, I’m your zanpakuto, I hate to lose and hate not being listened too even more! So stay sharp and we’ll be just fine. I have complete trust in you, and I will follow you to the end if needs are, just make sure you are fighting for the right cause and I will give you everything I can.”With this, she kisses his cheek and he awakens to a pitch-black night with the stars in the sky. His Asauchi had completely changed into a black straight-bladed katana with no guard; he touched his cheek and smiled softly to himself; “I hear you... Just wait till they see us.”
Tristan soon passed his exams and was drafted into the fifth division, one that was renown for being a battle-hardened and difficult lot but some of the strongest the Seritei had to offer. He took a deep breath as he accepted his garments and made his way through the gates and towards the fifth division HQ.
Call to Action: Tristan pushed himself harder and harder to be recognised by his superiors. He gained friends, and before long he found himself on countless missions claiming hollow after hollow, it became a sport to him in a manner of speaking. He would often see himself cleaning his robes, preparing his Zanpakuto and forcing himself on harder training regimes to become the best that he could be. It soon became a part of his being living by the mantra that the fifth division had survived on. To be first on the battlefield, the "war experts" the heavy hitters of the Gotei and yet he found himself apart from his comrades in terms of his methodology; for the most part they would charge in and care little about the consequences of their action so long as they had a good fight. However Tristan wanted more from a battle than a few wounds, he wanted to know what made his adversary tick; what made them want to fight? Why did they choose to fight for their cause? Although this way of sitting didn't sit well with several of his comrades, the vast majority found it as a source of entertainment in the mess hall. Although he had his comrades, he found it to be somewhat refreshing being a different cut of the cloth to some of the more blood thirty of the fifth division.
FIFTH DIVISION/ UNSEATED
[ AT A GLANCE ]
Age / Apparent Age: 26 at the age of death, 22 in appearance, overall age 97
Gender: Male
Height & Weight: 6'1" & 178 lbs
Hair & Eye Color: shaggy off grey hair which drops in shaggy length to his shoulders with pale blue and grey predatorial eyes.
Positive Traits: Loyal, Respectful, Trustworthy
Negative Traits: Stubborn, Impulsive, Argumentative
Loyalties: Tristan is loyal to the Gotei, the Captain Commander and of course his Captain who he holds great respect for.
Snapshots:
Born (1918)
Joined RAF (1939)
KIA (1944)
Plus (4 Days)
Rukongai/ Hanging Dog (1944-1975)
Training (1975- 1961)
Div 5: (1961 - 2015)
[ ON THE SURFACE ]
Physical Description: Tristan stands at a somewhat tall 6 ft 1. Being a young man, Tristan is of a muscular build giving his years of boxing, his chest and arm muscles are very well defined and although they are somewhat large they hold a lot of flexibility compared to those of a bodybuilder. This also is apparent in his movements as you can see he is a huge man. However, Tristan moves with the grace of a dancer by which I mean he does not stomp around but rather hold himself with self-respect and poise. Tristan smells of the sea which is strange considering he does not come in any part from a place by the sea yet it connects with his zanpakuto spirit giving his love for the wind in the air and sky. his gun bolt grey hair sits messily on top of his head spiking downward and drooping in various directions. his silver-blue eyes resemble that of a wolf and are a tad unnerving to stare into for long periods of time. sitting just above his left eye is a somewhat unique brand which he was branded with after falling upon hard times in the Rukongai. His general facial features consist of a clean straight nose and chiselled jawline. His facial hair consists of a small tuft on his chin which is kept tidy with the rest of his face being clean-shaven, his skin which is remarkably soft is a tanned white, typical for the British climate he accustomed to. Although his eyes are uneasy his smile is very warm and friendly often depicted as more of a cheeky smirk or grin it is not very often that you see him with happy look on his face however you can certainly tell when he is in a bad mood as his brow is usually furrowed which increases the darkness of his eyes. Given his size and build you would imagine Tristan's voice to be somewhat crude and harsh but instead is more like liquid honey with a rich baritone which you could believe coming from the Voices if only the most celebrated crooners.
Spiritual Description: Tristan's Reiatsu appears and feels very predatorial and animalistic. An example is that it is comparable to the same way you would feel if you entered a sauna regarding the pressure. It appears to hit over others with a sense of heat and gives off the same feeling that one would have when being watched, a somewhat unnerving but commanding presence. The overall shape taken in one's mind's eye would be more depicted as a pair of large yellow wolf eyes in a shimmer of wind which encases his body and moulds to his shape.
[ BEHIND THE EYES ]
Personality: Tristan is a caring man deep down, however, he keeps a tough exterior and keeps his emotional walls up mostly but still hold the same kind smile and temperament. He has almost always looked jovial and happy with the occasional resting bitch face. Tristan does have a habit of making comments about topics that most would not yet his smiling appearance permits him to get away with more than most would. Tristan has a slightly dark sense of humour that most find a bit odd, for example; He finds the idea of dying when you're already dead laughable which most others certainly don't. His competitive nature brings out some of the worst in him especially when it comes to strategic games and even drinking games. He will go so far as to pass out before quitting on a drinking game. Tristan is open about most things except for his time in the Rukongai which in his eyes is nothing more than a nightmare. However, he will happily sit for hours and listen to others stories and trade a few of his own, such as how he acquired his somewhat unique brand.
Tristan has an extreme sense of honour and will almost always refuse to steal for his benefit, be it for food or water he will not take anything without asking he would much rather make a trade or politely ask for such things. Even though he is not of noble blood he believes very firmly in a nobleman’s code and its resemblance to that of a knight and lives by these immortal words; “A Shinigami is sworn to valour. His heart knows only virtue. His Zanpakuto defends the helpless. His might upholds the weak. His word speaks only truth. His wrath undoes the wicked.”
Loyalty stems from his time as a plus, when he was attacked by a Hollow but was saved by a nearby Shinigami. As a pledge of allegiance to the Shinigami that protected him, he vowed to one day become a Shinigami himself so that they could fight together. Masayoshi will never back down from a fight if it places his friend's lives on the line and will gladly sacrifice himself to protect them. His true allegiance will always be to the fifth Squad and the Captain commander. Masayoshi’s code also prevents him from attacking an opponent who is unwilling to fight; He will, however, give prior warning to an opponent if they have caused a grievance against him or is a Hollow.
He very respectful and will only draw his zanpakuto to fight an enemy, to train or to improve his bond with his spirit. Tristan does not believe in flaunting one's power and becomes agitated if he sees anyone doing so for the amusement of others or to intimidate innocents. Growing up in Hanging Dog Tristan grew accustomed to fist fights and protecting himself, this is evolved his respect for hand to hand combat and would much rather disable an opponent via less-lethal methods using Hoho and Hakuda over the option of drawing his zanpakuto and spilling blood. He also has a firm belief in trust and giving everyone an equal chance, even though his past has shown that some people (namely his Father) cannot be trusted, he is always willing to make his assumptions about a person instead of listening to idle gossip. Although Tristan is prepared to award his trust to almost anyone, he is very unforgiving when it is broken and will most certainly not trust that person again.
Finally, his sense of humour which although is quite dry and dark, he will always attempt to make others laugh, and he will still make a joke of the direst of situations claiming it to be; “not his day”. This has become somewhat of a trademark as he is in an almost constant state of terrible luck. Although his luck is decidedly bad, he will always laugh off whatever has happened and even joke about dying if it will lighten the mood.
Goals & Achievements: Tristan's main ambition from a child was to be one with the wind and sky, but now he has set his aim of becoming a member of the elite. After gaining admission to the fifth division, he now seeks to become a seated officer and perhaps one day become the lieutenant if given the opportunity.
[ GUARDIAN ANGEL ]
Zanpakutō Spirit: Tristan’s Zanpakuto spirit is Kikenkaze which translates as; ‘deadly wind.’ She initially appears to be very calm and usually a peaceful and almost lazy spirit, but beneath that demeanour lies a much more violent and sadistic spirit. Her mood changes like the wind as her dual personalities make her a handful to deal with and sometimes even uncooperative. She’s rather unpredictable and argumentative if she doesn’t get her own way, which will often lead to her child form arguing till she gets to play or at least have Tristan’s full attention. Even though she can be quite a handful at times, she is very playful with her master and often will want him to sit with her and talk about the world and where they will go together.
Unfortunately, Kikenkaze’s other half is not quite so gentle, as her grown-up self-represents her lust for battle and her unwillingness to listen to anyone but herself. Her older self is more like the tomboyish big sister as she will often pounce on and attack Masayoshi purely for her amusement. Although he has grown used to her temper and aggressive ways, when calm she is knowledgeable and assists Tristan in a lot of his tactical decisions. She also has an aptitude for finding anything to wind Tristan up by making the wind blow her dress or pretending to be cute and innocent. Her two forms are as follows;
When she is relaxed and happy, she takes the form of a small girl wearing what appears to be a school uniform which consists of an off-grey knee high pleated skirt, a white shirt sleeve collared shirt and a pale mustard vest top. She has soft snow-white hair which comes to the base of her spine and bounces on top of her head and around her fringe which drops in bangs which frame her face. Her wolf ears sit on the top of her head, and she has a small pink flower which she pins just next to her left ear. Her face is petite and framed by the way she holds her hair, her nose and lips are petite excluding her wondrous, big aqua blue eyes. She doesn't wear any shoes or socks, as her appearance is drawn upon the innocence of a child and her clothing is basic and simplistic. She will also refer to Tristan as “Big Brother” in this form with a voice that resembles a 10-12-year-old girl. Her overall height in this form is 4 foot 4 inches tall.
When she becomes angry or enters battle, she undergoes a metamorphosis via the pool and becomes more a sadistic dominatrix. Her hair grows crimson red but maintains the length of her childish form, she has a delicate little nose and small soft lips, her voice resembles that of 18-20-year-old females with a particular husk to it which would resemble Tristan's baritone. Her eyes, much like hair are a soft crimson which appears mystifying and demonic. Her outfit now is a tight fitted, front zipped gore red and white dress, which comes to just above her thighs. The sleeves tips and bottom of the dress fade into a lighter shade of pinkish red.
The sleeves have white frilling coming outwards to cover her wrists much like the French aristocracy of the 1700’s. She also wears thigh-high black and white diagonally stripped socks and no shoes. She keeps her hair wrapped up in a rough bun. She also wears distinctive green apple earrings about the size of a fifty pence piece, which hang around the top of her neck. Her overall height is 5 foot 6 inches tall with a slender, athletic build.
Inner World: Kikenkaze’s inner world resembles a giant open pond with a blue sky that surrounds the small area as a full circular mirror. The skies are blue with low white clouds. However, there is no sigh of the sun, but it is always light and warm. The water is scattered with cherry blossoms flower petals and small white water lilies dancing on the top of the water but never making it ripple, the water is a Caribbean Sea blue, and you can see down to where there is nothing beneath but a reflection of themselves. Kikenkaze can walk on water but never once makes a ripple or changes the flow of the water.
kikenkaze also switches to another world for when Tristan and herself train and hone their resonance. This second world takes the form of a forest with mighty trees, varying with varieties from Oak, Pine, Cherry blossom, Fir and Birch. The area itself is like a small clearing with a fallen tree in the centre that has moss growing on top of it, and there is also a beautiful light green moss that is mixed into the grass and is soft to the touch. The flowers that surround the area and dotted around are mostly mixed red and white Roses excluding the Cherry Blossom petals. The woodland much like the pond is completely silent, there is no outside noise or birds chirping unless Kikenkaze wishes there to be. The only sound created is by Kikenkaze creating wind or some noises to soothe Tristan when meditating during resonance.
Power: Kikenkaze's Overall ability is the ability to conceal hidden shards of her blade within torrents of wind, whatever size they may be. This is done in the wind currents that surround her in Shikai which extends to 4 inches from the blades of her tonfas.
Zanpakutō: Kikenkaze takes the form of a straight bladed katana in her sealed form with a black hilt and no guard. The blade itself is 27 inches from grip to the tip of the blade, and the blade itself is 1 and a half inches wide. The handle is 11 and a half inches in length. She also has a small inscription on the inside of the blade that reads; "Death is only the beginning". The sheath is entirely black excluding a single white stripe that goes to the length of the edge and its length is 29 and a half inches in total.
Release and Shikai Appearance: The blade is held horizontally parallel to the ground, the tip of the blade facing to the right. Once this release word is spoken KikenKaze takes her Shikai form, her sealed form disintegrates as if being blown away and reforms in Tristan's hands as dual thin bladed Tonfa Swords. The length of each blade is twenty-six and a half inches, and the handles are six and a half inches in diameter and reinforced at the core. The grips and metals are a matte black and very light to hold. The blades themselves are slanted downwards at the tip to accommodate a softer and swifter slicing motion during attacks as well as allowing a higher protective aspect. Further down the blade almost parallel with the hilt are indents and serrated edges, these are optimal and a very gruesome asset as the blade makes contact with the skin it acts much like a shark tooth, ripping and traumatizing the skin making it near impossible to heal without proper medical attention.
[ LEGACY CREATED ]
Origin: Tristan was born in Chester England in the summer of 1918. His family was a higher middle-class family who lived on the outskirts of the city of Chester, England in a small town called Tarporley. Tristan went to a private school and was quickly recognised as a bright and caring young man you had a love for the sky and would often voice his wish to become a pilot since the advancements that had been made within aviation and would not relinquish his dream for when he grew up. His parents, namely his father believed this goal of his to be a waste of his talents as an academic and continually forced him into more academic pursuits in an attempt to force him away from his dream and into a more publically appreciated career. Tristan was sadly accustomed to being presented to the Jekyll and Hyde complex that plagued his family with one side which was most commonly seen by the outside world of a higher middle-class family who cared deeply for one another and upheld a robust moral code and was well respected by all members of The Village and neighbouring towns. Behind closed doors it was a very different story as Tristan's father, James drank heavily and would often take to beating his Tristan's mother for the pettiest of things, things as small as not dusting which in Tristan's eyes was infuriating as they had a maid to do their cleaning. As aforementioned the family was wealthy enough to be able to afford a maid who often witnessed many of these events but was paid not to say anything to the authorities.
Tristan would quite often be on the receiving end of his father's anger being faced with being whipped, beaten, left outside in the cold and many other horrific tortures which he was forced to undergo. As he got older, he became more of a tower of a man both in height and muscle mass compared to the weak boy who his father would beat upon when the feeling arose. Tristan quickly learnt from a young age how to box at his father's request which ironically would later become his undoing. Tristan had a very strong bond with his mother knowing full well the Horrors that she had to withstand from his father. Tristan in an attempt to protect his mother would quite often interrupt their fights which more often than not ended up with him receiving a beating as well as her, that was until just after Tristan's 18th birthday when he was faced with another confrontation with his father over the wellbeing of his mother. It was after boxing practice one evening when he came home to see his father relentlessly beating his mother, Jane. Tristan infuriated from years of abuse and seeing his mother treated so poorly lashed out going against his father with years of boxing technique that he had learnt, honed, mixed with rage from years of pain and torture. He took his father head on and through the Relentless skirmish Tristan ended up beating his father to death much to The horror of his mother. Disgusted he fled the house and took to living on the streets fighting in back alleys and taking unsavoury money to protect others.
Tristan found a ray of hope however at the start of the second world war in 1939. He joined the RAF as a pilot quickly realising his dream for many years ago, it was not long before Tristan's superiors saw his raw talent as a pilot willing to push the plane and himself far beyond the other raw recruits. It was not long before Tristan head gained quite a name for himself as an accomplished pilot and within a few years, the plans of D-Day were put into action. Tristan had undergone countless practise runs and had even met the Luftwaffe on several occasions claiming prize after prize. Tristan was given command of his troop to assist the ground troops via air support and draw the attention of the inland forces of the Axis powers. It was a battle that took thousands of casualties and as such Tristan was one of them, being shot down by an anti-aircraft gun while attempting to provide cover for the landing forces, even though Tristan's plane was shot down he still managed to survive several hours, holding the ground that enveloped his beloved plane. Tristan was unwilling to leave the plane that Tristan so loved and that had put him into the sky and surrounded him with the wind and power of the elements that he so adored. He took his final stand upon her broken remains against German infantry, when the last bullet hit his chest he lay dying. Tristan remained staring into the sky and felt the cool breeze on his face and even though he knew that he was going to die It made him feel at peace to be able to look into the sky that he so loved.
When he awoke, he had believed it a dream looking out across the battlefield that he could hear around him. He could hear and see the gunfire still surrounding the area around him as he looked across to where his beloved plane still sat as the embers still engulfed her carcass. He attempted to grab a gun to still protect what remained of his beloved plane however when his hand passed through it over and over he realised that he was no longer in the world of the living and even as he moved to attack a German soldier his body passed right through his opponent. He fell to his knees in anger and anguish more to the fact that he was unable to protect the one thing that he still indeed had left, and yet he could only stare on in agony at the loss of his plane. It was the first time he'd ever encountered or indeed thought of the idea of an afterlife, and as he stared out at across the Battlefield, he could sense sinister intention all around him and indeed after several days of continuous gunfire and battle a hollow appeared. He didn't know what the monster was, but every inch of him knew that it was something that could destroy him. He was only able to run and to stand in front of this plane ready to Sacrifice himself once more rather than see any more damage done however as the creature came closer and closer he realised how pointless his task was. The beast stood a comfortable eight feet tall. Black scaly skin with bone white pincers and mask like some lunatic killer. He felt his soul shake, standing as a lone man against such an adversary until another presence appeared, one that filled him with light and hope. As if by magic a woman robed in black leapt forward and engaged the creature in a battle that he could not put into words. He saw The Clash of white bone and steel before the hollow finally fell to her blade.
"You're a stupid bastard you know that? Why didn't you just run?"
"It's not in my nature... I protect what I care about."
"... You have guts kid..."
The woman came to him and explained that she was a shinigami, a warden of the afterlife, who had seen his valour on the battlefield and would pass him over to the Rukongai. Although Tristan didn't really know much about what this beautiful, scarred lady was talking about he accepted her words with much more acceptance than he would normally have given to anyone.
Tristan awoke to find himself in a place he had never come across before it was very oriental in design although he could not remember why he had come to be where he felt as though he had a purpose to which he had to fulfil. He made his way out into the town, and after enquiring from various sources, he found that it was called 'Hanging Dog', not a friendly name and indeed the name represented the place as it was a hive of scum and villainy. The people of Hanging Dog loved to watch the weak and feeble crumble beneath their boot not caring who lay beneath it; women and children included. Tristan was unsure of what path to take in this new life decided that it would be better for him to hide in these deplorable places until he figured out his true calling. Twenty years he worked as an Enforcer; however, he made it quite clear to his employers that he would only take force on those that he deemed worthy of his wrath and would refuse to cause any harm to women or children. He would often find himself at night in one of the many drinking holes around the broken district and on one such night he encountered the beauty unlike any he had come across before. A woman with long blonde hair and a scar down her right eye and even though she bore that scar it had a beauty to it wish you could not explain her finesse and grace mesmerised him.
After picking up the courage to speak to her and buy her a drink the two eventually warmed up to one another that was until her father arrived. A somewhat ruthless crime Lord by the name of Han who even though he had encountered Tristan on several occasions took the matter of him flirting with his daughter not very well. It took over ten guards to be able to take Tristan down, and when he awoke, he found himself in a dark Dungeon chained to each wall pinning his arms, to his right lay a fire pit with several metal rods sticking outward. He knew that he was in a bad way and even laughed at the at the idea that you could die when you were already dead. When Han arrived with several of his guards he stated;
"Come on Tristan... We had so many good times together! remember those peasants you wouldn't take out?"
"Can't say I do Han... But tell ya what, you let me out of here, and I'm sure it may jog my memory." His eyes narrowed as the fat little man took a step back.
"Oh I know full well what you are capable of my boy, let's just get this over and done with huh?"
Han walks in front of Tristan back and forth like a wild cat in front of its prey before reaching into the burning fire and pulling forth the poker baring the white-hot brand. It was a brand that Tristan knew well it was one given to outcasts, People who had betrayed the crime Lords for whatever reason and were, therefore, cast out themselves.
" Sorry about this kid but business is business."
"Sure... Whatever you got to do to keep your pockets lined huh?"
"You think this is about money? This is because you flirted with my daughter and I simply can't have that, but yeah when we needed a job done and pussy about because of women and children? Yeah, that pisses me off, so it's out on the streets you go."
The brand connected with Tristan's face as he screamed out in pain and slumped forward with a cackle leaving his lips as his pale silver eyes glared up at Han with a passion he had only seen on occasions he wished he could forget.
"We done here? Good... See you round Han."
Han ran into the streets as the guards released the locks and made a bolt for the door. Only one made it into the light.
Sitting in the bar outside of Hanging Dog he could do all but lick his wounds with sake. Unsure of what would be the best action to take before a woman he recognised sat next to him pulling a drink from the bar and staring at him for several minutes before a rumble came from his chest, his eyes pale silver glared at her;
"What do you want?"
"Calm down kid. You don't remember who saved your ass? Fucking piss ant."
"You..."
"Yes, me. Why do you have that brand on your head? What did you do." Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel her pressure like an ocean on top of him.
"I betrayed a crime lord, namely flirted with his daughter... But I made it pretty clear I wouldn't hurt innocents, and it doesn't go down well in Hanging Dog."
"That's where you showed up? Shit. No wonder you look like Hueco Mundo shit you out..." She rolled her glass in her hand for a moment.
"If you wanna make a difference and save the people who need saving then go to the shinigami academy... If you are still that guy I saved all those years ago, then we could do with someone like you. Now stop acting like a pansy and move."
Tristan looked down and stared at his glass for a while before turning back to see that she had gone. He sat there contemplating his own existence before deciding he may now have a purpose once more.
Rise to Power: Tristan had followed the directions he had received and was starting his time in the Academy. He took his time there very seriously and did well in his Hakuda, and Hoho classes but could never get to grips at all with Kido. To this him, it just wasn’t his style, and although he excelled in his other classes, he barely made it through Kido. However, Tristan's most significant achievement was in Zanjutsu. He impressed his teachers with the unwillingness to give up and his determination to win, a skill he picked up from his time in Hanging Dog and in truth it was those times that he drew from to give him strength. All of the innocents he wasn't able to save because a boss stood there with more goons than he was capable of defeating on his own.
He didn’t spend much time making friends or even making attempts at his female classmates. He just wanted to get started as his time as a Shinigami and thank that particular Shinigami with her somewhat abusive guidance.
Tristan practised religiously with his Asauchi, and eventually, the blade began to change its form, he could feel its grip match his, the blade pressed light and graceful in his hand, yet where other classmates had blade guards, his did not? ‘I wonder what that’s about? I mean don’t I need to defend?’ He would ponder this fact for hours at a time when he was sat in the woods meditating under some trees; the wind was soft and comforting as the day was sweltering. A bead of sweat fell down his brow, and he felt the wind shift."Stupid wind…" he muttered under his breath, that was until he heard a reply.
“Who you calling stupid you big meanie?!”
Tristan opened his eyes to find him standing on a still pond with a small white haired girl, with wolf ears stood opposite him, head tilted to one side, a single ear twitched, she scratched it and blinked for a moment before running and pouncing upon him screaming with a massive smile;
“Brother! You made it at last! I hoped if I kept talking you’d hear my voice one day! Yay! Now I get to see my big brother all the time!” The girl mused as her ears twitched playfully with a grin.
“I… Well… What is your name I suppose?” Tristan seemed too shocked that he’d made contact with the spirit to come out with anything logical
"Brother! How can you say that! Big sister is going to get really mad at you for that! Uhuh.” She bounced up and ran over to the centre of the pond; the Lilies bobbed peacefully on the water top.
“My name is Kikenkaze, and I am your zanpakuto! Isn’t it exciting? But you should meet big sister too; she’s going to be awful mad though…” With this the little girl smiled, ears flopping happily before she sunk into the water and another girl entered from the still pool. He stared in disbelief, he couldn’t believe his eyes, the girls looked so similar and even though both were so beautiful this new girl had the feel of death to her, a predator in her natural habitat.
"Hey dumbass?! What do you think you’re playing at forgetting my god damn name!" This new girl was a polar opposite of the innocent he had seen before, and this new spirit was more brash and abrasive like sandpaper to the skin. She glided over to him before clutching his neck in her hand, flipping him and pressing her foot to his head; "You call yourself my master, and you didn’t even know my name? Are you serious!" This new girl seemed to get pleasure from causing the discomfort.
Tristan pushed himself up and expressed his sincere apologies for not knowing but he was far too in shock to have known what to say.
The two sat together and spoke for what seemed like days, and they acquainted each other with their presence yet Tristan had to keep averting his eyes when a tiny gust of wind would attack Kikenkaze’s short dress.
“You know my name means ‘deadly wind’ right… so who do you think controls the wind?” She gave a devilish grin as she sat back; “I just love seeing you squirm every time I make the wind blow” She let out a mischievous laugh then looked back at him with a menacing look. “ Now listen to me Tristan, I’m your zanpakuto, I hate to lose and hate not being listened too even more! So stay sharp and we’ll be just fine. I have complete trust in you, and I will follow you to the end if needs are, just make sure you are fighting for the right cause and I will give you everything I can.”With this, she kisses his cheek and he awakens to a pitch-black night with the stars in the sky. His Asauchi had completely changed into a black straight-bladed katana with no guard; he touched his cheek and smiled softly to himself; “I hear you... Just wait till they see us.”
Tristan soon passed his exams and was drafted into the fifth division, one that was renown for being a battle-hardened and difficult lot but some of the strongest the Seritei had to offer. He took a deep breath as he accepted his garments and made his way through the gates and towards the fifth division HQ.
Call to Action: Tristan pushed himself harder and harder to be recognised by his superiors. He gained friends, and before long he found himself on countless missions claiming hollow after hollow, it became a sport to him in a manner of speaking. He would often see himself cleaning his robes, preparing his Zanpakuto and forcing himself on harder training regimes to become the best that he could be. It soon became a part of his being living by the mantra that the fifth division had survived on. To be first on the battlefield, the "war experts" the heavy hitters of the Gotei and yet he found himself apart from his comrades in terms of his methodology; for the most part they would charge in and care little about the consequences of their action so long as they had a good fight. However Tristan wanted more from a battle than a few wounds, he wanted to know what made his adversary tick; what made them want to fight? Why did they choose to fight for their cause? Although this way of sitting didn't sit well with several of his comrades, the vast majority found it as a source of entertainment in the mess hall. Although he had his comrades, he found it to be somewhat refreshing being a different cut of the cloth to some of the more blood thirty of the fifth division.
