Post by Reyne on Jan 7, 2013 15:54:46 GMT -5
Shinigami
For the Record
Name: Reyne Landegre
Age: 161
Gender: Male
Character Parameters
Height & Weight 6”1 and 180lbs
Hair & Eye Colour Navy blue hair and crimson red eyes.
Noticable Difference What makes a man tall? It sounds as an easy question but it is all a matter of perspective. Ask a man who is 6”10, whom for the sake of this question has only been exposed to other humans of his own height. Ask him If he thinks himself tall, you will find that the answer would be no. The same thing would occur with just about anyone under the same conditions as the man in our example. Whether or not a man is tall is simply determined by the experiences of the viewer. A midget who has only been around other midgets would without a doubt think a man of 6”10 no less than a giant. Reyne Landegre is by those standards a giant, towering above midgets with his height of 6”1. To others he could be deemed anything from short, average or tall all depending on the viewer though most will find him tall.
Physically the Shinigami is without a doubt an impressive sight. His somewhat unusual appearance and handsome features tends to make him stand out in a crowd. One of the first things you notice about Reyne is his deep navy-blue hair. Reaching down just below his shoulder plates, the youth’s hair is considered long and is usually styled into an elegant pony tail. Notably Reyne keeps the hair on the life side knotted, effectively keeping his hair from obscuring his vision (the left side at least.). Aside from his navy blue hair, Reyne’s eyes also warrant attention, his vibrant crimson red eyes tend to glow whenever he becomes passionate about something (in one form or another). This phenomenon is most commonly seen during a fight and it gives Reyne a slight ominous look.
But it is not the hair that makes the sight of Reyne so impressive. While measuring up to a height of 6”1, the lad weighs nearly 180lbs where most of it is muscles. This stems from the fact that Reyne follows a strict and rigorous training regiment to keep himself in shape. However, due to his height Reyne still appears slim of figure in the eyes of others, almost like a tower of sorts. A scar stretches across the bridge of Reyne’s nose; it is thin in nature but rather lengthy and reaches well into Reyne’s face. The scar which was given to him during a fight only serves to make him look that much fiercer, or at least that is what Reyne seems to think. Not only does it make him look fiercer but also all the more manly (Again, Reyne’s opinion).
The majority of Reyne’s body is covered in tattoos and scars. A series of lotus flowers trail down the left side of Shinigami’s back as well as his left shoulder. The lotus flowers sometimes represent a new beginning or even purity; even so it’s unknown what kind of meaning Reyne places in the tattoo. The right side of his back along with parts of his right arm are covered in intricate tribal designs and patterns. The tattoos are vivid in colour and makes for a colourful sight. The reason Reyne got his tattoos in the first place stems from the fact that he considers his own body a canvass and his tattoo the art. Besides, they also make him look badass.
Reyne’s attire does not deviate much from the norm. The Shinigami usually sports the black kimono that everyone else wears, as befits his rank and station. The sleeves are kept short, ending at his elbows simply because he prefers the feel of wind brushing against his skin. Yet working against the purpose of having short sleeves, Reyne wears a red scarf around his neck though he has to offer an explanation; and it’s not like that many care whether or not the scarfs stays. When walking among the humans it is required that one blends in. After all it would draw unwanted attention if a Shinigami suddenly showed up wearing his standard Shinigami garb in this day and age. Reyne’s choice of clothing tends to differ at a rate equal to a normal human; even so he always makes sure he blends in. Some days Reyne could sport something like a casual grey hoodie, a black tank top underneath and fitted black pants. The next day he could be seen wearing a casual suit with an elegant design. It all depends on the Shinigami’s mood and fancy at that particular day.
Positive Traits
Reyne is if nothing else a calm individual. Composed, collected, self-assured are just some of the words that could define his behaviour on an everyday basis. If flames could burn cold, passionate yet cool to the touch, Reyne would be icy flames made flesh. Naturally this means that Reyne is not in any way prone to anger and does not lose his composure easily. Because of this trait, insults in whatever form they come is something Reyne easily shrugs off, much like someone would brush dust from their shoulders. However Reyne is not without passion and a toothy grin tends to dominate the Shinigami’s face along with a knowing or amused look in his eyes.
Reyne thrives on battle, the pure adrenaline rush of a fight, your heart pounding hard against your chest; those are the things he lives for. But it’s not just battle; Reyne enjoys being where things happen, in the middle of the action. Adding to his love of battle and anything thrilling, Reyne greatly enjoys fighting strong opponents. This stems from the fact that Reyne constantly feels like he has to prove himself, but to who is a different question entirely. Maybe the formerly poor orphan wants to show the world that he has become something greater. Either that or he has major issues with his self-esteem.
As a battle progresses, granted the opponent is strong enough, Reyne’s fighting style grows increasingly feral and savage as the battle progresses. This reason behind this rather simple actually, When enjoying a fight, Reyne loses himself in the moment and he tends to get “fired up” as he calls it. It is his passion that led Reyne to state that he does not like and is bad at holding back, which is also why he thinks he is not suitable to teach others. Adding to this trait, backing down does not come easily to Reyne as his pride makes it difficult for him to admit his defeat. Stupidly enduring is often used to describe his relentless, indomitable will in a fight. However it is possible for Reyne to accept defeat if his thoroughly convinced that he has no hope of winning. Still, he will probably want a rematch on a later occasion. Assif and Apollyon are so far the only individuals Reyne has openly admitted that are stronger than him.
Reyne is fiercely loyal to his friends and comrades; of course this only includes the one he actually trusts enough to call as such (Assif being one of few). It’s also this loyalty that leads Reyne to the conclusion that anyone who abandons their comrades is scum. The Shinigami considers them the lowest of trash, even mindless hollows are better. Reyne is also loyal to Seireitei itself though this only remains true as long as it is governed by capable hands.
Reyne prefers to trust his gut when it comes to more complex situation, often relying on his intuition to guide him and see him through the whole ordeal. He is not without a certain animal cunning and his experience in battle lets him notice some weak points, or chinks in an enemy strategy however this is limited by his experience.
Negative Traits
Reyne is not exactly lacking confidence by any means, his self-assuredness being more than simple borderline cockiness. He firmly believes that there is no one like him, a thought born from pure arrogance. Interestingly Reyne’s arrogance is not entirely based on illusions as he is a very skilled Shinigami, though the true nature of his skills is somewhat exaggerated in his own eyes. Whatever skill Reyne does possess however is limited by his inexperience and his tendency to underestimate his opponent, which without a doubt very well could be the end of him.
Spending several decades (possibly more) all by himself, Reyne has grown used to being on his own. As a result Reyne has a hard time trusting people, although with time he has grown more than adapt to life among other people. However it is important to note that there is a difference between trust and true trust, at least in Reyne’s eyes. He might trust a Shinigami to have his back during a fight yet that is as far as it goes. True trust however is something reserved for the people Reyne considers the closest to him. The people closest to him are also the ones that he is fiercely loyal to. For that reason alone when it comes to these people Reyne will most likely refuse to abandon them, even if it means his own life.
Reyne is not exactly easily pissed off or even irritated yet it’s still very possible. The adrenaline rush of battle might excite him but is nothing like his rage. Unlike the fires that a fight may create in him, Reyne’s behaviour when angry is something entirely different. Much like the deceptive look of thin -ice just before it cracks beneath your feet, Reyne becomes almost scary calm whenever someone pisses him off. Then it comes, like a sudden tidal wave washing over a tiny sand castle; A fit of mad anger, blinding and terrible in its nature. Needless to say whoever enraged Reyne will find him a brutal and relentless foe.
Reyne is easily bored; often resulting in a nap when he can’t be bothered to take part in an event. This stems from the fact that he is incredibly fond of battle and anything thrilling and fast-paced. His arrogance also plays a part here as if he finds an opponent too weak he will refuse to fight them. Reyne strives for challenge and opportunities to prove his strength and for that reason everything else that does not live up to his standards become unworthy of his time. This also apply to people, everyday situations, exercises and similar situations as if he finds it not a good use of his time, he will simply refuse to take part.
Reyne is always one to speak his mind, no filters. He will usually tell people exactly what he thinks, no matter how rude or cruel that may be. Of course the gentler thing might be to either say nothing at all or at least sugar-coat his words. Reyne however does not see the paramount importance of this concept when it comes to basic social interaction. Still, for the most part his words are not meant to be cruel but rather the opposite. By telling it as it is; the truth in its blunt and cold nature Reyne hopes to save them from pain later on.
TMI
The Human Race: Reyne holds a deep fascination for mankind. It’s kind of an odd fascination seeing as he was once human himself. Although Reyne remembers his life as a human it has always seemed like something foreign to him. Like memories of a life seen through someone else’s eyes. His existence as a Shinigami feels different and is also what caused his fascination with the living. The way humans often struggle to control a world they cannot hope to influence astonishes Reyne. The way they can be so incredibly stupid yet amazingly clever, a living contradiction if nothing else. This fascination also extends to modern culture, often spending time observing the many marvels of technology that did not exist when he was alive.
Smoking: Reyne has adopted the habit of smoking, not knowing exactly why he started; a possible act of defiance maybe? Not against Soul Society but rather the afterlife itself. It’s very possible though equally probably is that he simply took it up on whim only to grow to the taste.
Coffee: Reyne has what can be called a caffeine addiction. A rather specific form of addiction to be honest, Reyne does not simply crave caffeine in any given shape or form but rather a specific blend of coffee. A blend of coffee that the Shinigami chanced to stumble upon while in the living world. This eventually led to Reyne bringing back copious amount of coffee to Seireitei whenever he had the opportunity.
Deck of Cards: Despite getting him killed Reyne has chosen to keep his old skills up to date. As such he usually favours a deck of card that he always brings with him wherever he goes. This practically deck of cards is somewhat special and was a graduation gift given to him by Assif. The cards feature vivid and colourful pictures, with even some of the higher ups of Seireitei as motive. Naturally the deck is rigged in Reyne’s favour and features a few additional cards should he need them. Reyne sometimes tends to “update” these cards, honouring the tradition of featuring important Gotei characters as motives.
Painter: Reyne is if nothing else an adrenaline junkie; thriving on anything fast-paced and exciting. Even so, Reyne has some habits that contradict this trait. This simply goes to prove that not everything is black and white. One of Reyne’s favourite pastimes is painting; although not very good at it he finds it therapeutic and loves to get creative with his paintings. His motives are ever-changing and usually feature whatever his fancy at the time.
Music: The Shinigami holds a deep fascination for the new technology that has been introduced to him through the world of the living. Music is a natural part of this and one of Reyne’s favourite pleasures in this world. His taste in music, much like anything about him changes rapidly and as long as it’s not country music Reyne is more than happy to listen to it. His love of music has also made him incredibly grateful for a certain human invention; the ipod. Although not permitted to bring one back to Soul Society; Reyne tends to keep one with his Gigai and frequently uses it whenever he can.
Bond Undeniable
Zanpakuto Spirit: Reyne’s Zanpaktou is called Apollyon. Upon first meeting him, Reyne was immediately reminded of blood and silver and rightly so. Seated upon a snow-white stag, Apollyon had worn heavy plated armour. His armour had been intricately designed; with delicate patterns and markings engraved on it surfaced. It was coloured silver and dark red and stood in contrast to the stage he rode. All in all, he had made for an impressive sight. The sight of him alone could easily have led Reyne to believe Apollyon was a deity of sorts, if he hadn’t known better. Personality wise Apollyon is somewhat different from Reyne himself. The Zanpaktou unlike Reyne only speaks few words; but they are always to the point. Reyne once described Apollyon’s eyes like molten rocks that could see through one’s very soul. And rightly so, Apollyon sees you for what you are; the good and the bad, your pride and your shame, all of it. He does not need you to prove your worth to him because he already knows it better than you do. Apollyon also seems to have given a lot of thought to his own name, as revealed when Reyne discussed it with him. Apollyon seemed to believe that his name was often misinterpreted. The destroyer was what his name meant and the Zanpaktou felt deeply that people jumped to conclusion too fast causing them to misinterpret his true nature. Rather the true nature of a destroyer is simply the ender of all things. Nothing lasts forever and all men most die. That was the simple truth, as natural part of life as the beginning. If there are to be new beginnings, there must also be endings. The way Apollyon speaks if nothing else adds to his deity-esque imagery. His voice has way of giving you courage while at the same time sounding completely terrifying, resembling booming thunder. Apollyon also seems to favour actions above words, for words are wind and nothing more. This became evident when he explained the principles of his power to Reyne. This attitude often seems like a contradiction, after all why would he need to confirm your worth through actions if he has already seen it with his piercing eyes. And the answer is simply that it’s not about proving your worth but simply about tutoring you. By forcing you to make active use of your potential, Apollyon helps you grow in his own way.
“I cannot swing your sword for you, but I can be the power that flows in your veins.
I cannot shield you from the world, but I can help carry the burden.
I cannot end your enemies for you, but I can give you the power to do it
I cannot take your blows for you, but I can give you the strength to defend yourself.
As such is the nature of my power.”
Inner World: Reyne’s inner world consists of a dark blue sky looming above a surface of water, both seemingly stretching out infinitely. Interestingly the water is seemingly solid, no matter how hard you step you will not sink into the water. A seemingly infinite amount of glass pillars dot the landscape as far as the eyes can see. Upon first seeing it, Reyne noted how difficult it was to tell where the top of the pillars ended. The inner world is incredibly peaceful and calm and often works as a sanctuary as well as a place to communicate with your Zanpaktou in.
Sealed Zanpakuto: When sealed, Apollyon looks much like your average katana with the exception of the guard. The guard is fashioned into something that resembles a star, having four points and a bronze colouring. Its hilt is a dark red while the sheath is pitch-black in colour. In its full length, Apollyon measures up to a total length of 55 inches making it too long to be worn at his waist. Instead Reyne wears his Zanpaktou slung across his back, attached by a red sash.
Shikai Appearance : Apollyon’s release command is Karera no tsuyo sa sonomono ( 彼らの強さそのもの - Devour their strength). To release Apollyon, Reyne brings his Zanapaktou up to his chest, angling it horizontally with his right hand. He then flicks the blade with his right hand while calling out the release phrase, causing it to pulse a light green before exploding in a torrent of spiritual energy. When the light finally fades, Reyne emerges from the chaos holding Apollyon in his released form. Upon entering Shikai, Apollyon takes the shape of a large great sword, its metal coloured black with golden ornate markings decorating its edges. The blade has no hilt however and in its place is a long golden chain that is bound to the blade by a small hole near the bottom of the great sword itself. The blade itself is considerably large, adding up to a total length and width of 3ft. Finally a weight is bound to the end of the golden chain making the entire length of the chain roughly 20ft. The Zanpaktou makes for an impressive sight, yet also seems like a highly impractical weapon. You would think that it size would make it difficult to fight with, and then there it’s the fact that it lacks a hilt whatsoever so there’s no apparent way to actually swing the blade without using the chain. While in Reyne’s hand the size is not in issue, being a Zanpaktou it feels as light as a feather in his hands and he has shown no trouble wielding his Zanpaktou in a similar style to that of a chain-sickle. Secondly, the fact that the chain itself can be made as stiff and rigid as any hilt makes up for the absence of one. This allows Reyne to wield his Zanpaktou like a giant halberd, which only adds to the diversity of his fighting style.
Shikai Abilities: Apollyon’s ability is hinted in its release phrase and is a direct ability. Although the Zanpaktou does not tear away at the opponent’s strength, it does however use the enemy’s strength or lack of it against him. Resembling the mechanics of a sponge, the Zanpaktou can absorb and generate force through melee contact, generating a kinetic charge for each hit block and each hit delivered, increasing both Reyne's physical constitution and attack strength. However this ability is limited to the Zanpaktou itself which is also where its weakness lies. Should the opponent somehow circumvent actually coming into contact with the weapon itself, then no force is created either; thus rendering the ability more or less useless. Yet one should not underestimate the golden chain as it is as much a part of the Zanpaktou as the blade itself, not only can it be used to tangle the opponent on its own, but it can also be made stiff on command allowing Reyne to wield his Zanpaktou like a giant halberd.
FLASHBACK
I never knew my parents, but I’d often fantasize about them. I’d make up stories in my head as I imagined what they looked like, what kind of people they were and more importantly why they left me. I quickly decided that my father was in the army, everyone knew that most honourable men served in army. It wasn’t something you questioned really, it was just a fact that everybody knew without anyone in particular actually bothering to tell them. “Dolce est decorum est pro patria mori” I would tell myself as I dreamed about the kind of man my father was. “It is sweet and proper to die for one’s country.” That was what the phrased meant, or at least what I thought it meant. I have no idea where I picked it up but it sort of fit naturally with the kind of picture I painted of my father. I imagined he would be a strict man, but an honest one and caring as well. It was always more difficult when it came to my mother. I could never decide on her features, did she have blond hair or did she have dark hair? Was her skin pale or tanned? Was she tall and slender or short and curvy? I could never decide. But one thing she always remained, in my mind she was always beautiful. I’d picture her as a caring mother. A mother who would read me stories before I went to bed and make me breakfast in the morning. When it came to why they weren’t around, well that was slightly more difficult. The story changed as quickly as the wind but there was always with good reason that I was left behind. Sometimes it was an accident, sometimes it was to protect me and sometimes I even pictured my parents as spies working for the government. But these thoughts were always kept to myself. I didn’t have many friends and I was one orphan among many, just another hungry mouth to feed.
Growing up on the streets of London can be tough, especially during my time amongst the living. I think I was born in 1852, but I can’t be sure. When I think back on my life as a human it always seems foreign to me, like it had happened to someone else, someone I had once known but no longer did. I always have to remind myself that it’s my story, my memories. Then again my time there was rather short, or at least so they tell me, after all how would I know? It was the longest life I have ever known. I grew up in an orphanage, which for the most part meant that I was one of the lucky ones. Not everyone had that pleasure. Of course the orphanage was nothing more but a pile of crap, a relic of an ancient past, always ready to collapse in on itself. Yet it never did, and the caretaker whose name I have forgotten took pleasure in that fact. She even prided herself on it, exploiting every chance she got to lecture the children about how lucky they were. Still, food was scarce as it often was among the poor. The orphanage had enough to keep themselves alive, but not much more. I think that was why I turned to stealing. I was a quick little thing, my hands deft and my footsteps always quiet. I only needed to lightly brush against someone and their money was mine.
I told no one of course, I always found it easier to get by on my own. Some might call it selfish but I was kid and didn’t know any better, and honestly I think it was the best anyone in my situation could have done. We were talking about survival after all. I don’t think most people would have been able to do the same if put in my shoes. The other kids weren’t half as quick as me and more often than not they got a broken nose for their trouble, if not worse. Though I was always careful not to spend too much money, you see it was my dream to one day save up enough money to buy my own house. But I soon found that pickpocketing wasn’t enough if I wanted a house of my own. My hands had always been deft, I could easily make coins appear and disappear between my hands on a whim. So naturally I found a way of making more money using this particular skill. I began hustling money of anyone and everyone who was stupid enough to try their luck against my deck of cards. Sometimes I’d let people win, build up a nice pile of money before offering them the chance to double it. High on luck they naturally said yes only to lose it all. The odds were always in my favour, mostly because I always cheated. Though ironically it would also prove the end of me. I think I was 13 when it happened though I’m not sure. It all began with that man, I immediately knew something was off when the street cleared and his goons blocked of any potential escape path. The man told me he wanted to try his luck. Nothing more, nothing less. Reluctantly I dealt a hand and as usual I ensured that the odds were in my favour. Oh what a fool I was. The inevitable happened and the strange man lost, twice. I remembered how the man had chuckled softly, how cruel his eyes had looked when he inclined his head softly. At first I thought he had accepted his losses and was done playing, but I was wrong. I still remember very vividly the slim bony hand that had gripped me by the hair, jerked my head back and brushed something very cold against my throat. Then everything turned black and the world I knew disappeared before my eyes.
The events that followed still remain a blur to me. I remember a chain cold and heavy. I remember something warm brushing against my forehead and a terrible hunger. I can’t really say for sure when I finally woke up, my memory is still a bit hazy. Even so, when I did I had woken up in a place that seemed so foreign to me. I later learned that the place that I had come to was called Rukongai. It became my home and I wandered it in search of god knows what. I don’t think I had a purpose really, when I was alive surviving had been something I did on instinct and I carried that with me into the afterlife. There were people there of course but it was hard for me to trust anyone. Not that it was something entirely new to me, a boy could spend his days dreaming up wild stories about parents he never had, but still there would always be that subtle voice in the back of your head that whispered in the darkness. “They left you because they hated you.” or “Your parents never loved you, why else would they leave you?” I could go on but I think I’ve made my point.
I explored a lot, never really staying a place too long, leaving barely enough time to eat before moving on. It might have been for the best, I stole a lot and hustled people out of valuables whenever I could. It might not be honourable but I’d be damned if I wasn’t good at it, and besides it had worked really well for me when I was alive. Up until the point where it got me killed anyway. But I don’t think that was too important to me. Of course dying came as a shock to me, I mean who kills a kid over a little money? But still, death was bittersweet to me. Sure, I still had things I wanted to do, places I wanted to go, things I wanted to learn but life as a poor orphan was hardly a life at all. In a way I think I welcomed death when it finally came for me. Not that I was suicidal or anything, but with life being as tough as it was I think it just made it easier to just accept that it was the end of the road for me.
I remember one day looking at my reflection in the water when I realized just how much I had grown. I had gotten incredibly tall, but not only that but my body had also grown muscular and I found myself resembling an ox in a way, heavily packed with dense muscles from tip to toe. Though I wasn’t as massive as an ox, yes I had the muscles but I was also tall and slender which made for an impressive sight. Or at least I thought so, and why not? I looked damn good. Not only considering my body frame but I also noticed I was no longer the scrawny orphan with messy hair but a handsome man. Maybe I was a bit too fond of my own looks, but compared to how I had looked as an orphan I had practically gone from being the ugly duckling to a beautiful swan.
The days in Rukongai seemed to blur together, things following a steady pattern and it became difficult separating one day from the next. The pattern didn’t last though, Im not sure when it happened but when it did, it became one of the most embarrassing, life-changing days of my life. I was making a trip into one of the many villages that day; I had no intentions of staying very long though. The idea was to gather some supplies then move on. But when I came to village I already knew something was amiss. A crowd had gathered about two men, one clad in black and one in red. The man that wore black stood exactly in the centre, sword drawn and levelled with the other’s throat. I didn’t think, and perhaps if I had I could have avoided getting my ass kicked. I snatched up a long wooden stick from the ground as I bolted into the crowd. I can still remember their face, staring at me with pure disbelief as I pushed through the thick of the crowd. I swung my stick as hard as I could, its long wooden surface cracking hard across the man’s face, his black kimono swirling about him as he hit the ground. I can still remember the jolt of pain the blow had sent through my arm, it felt as if I had struck a wall with my bare fist. I can also distinctly remember the sound of the man’s nose meeting the hard shaft of my stick and I already knew his nose would be broken. Only then as the man hit the ground, and I noticed the baffled face of the man in red and the horrified faces of the crowd did I realize what was actually going on. You would have thought that I would have noticed the sack filled with bread and other supplies that the man in red clutched as if his life depended on it. I remember how I had turned to the man in the black kimono, cheeks flushed with a desperate look in my eyes. I can still picture it vividly, how he had blinked twice as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened, how he had reached for his bleeding nose then broken out into a fit of laughter. “Not bad kid!” The man had told me before he rose to his feet. The man in red saw his chance to escape, dropped the stolen goods and made for the woods. I can’t blame him though; if I knew what the man in black was capable I would have run too.
That was when for the first time in my life I got my ass kicked. I can’t say I remember much of it, only that he did it without even using his sword. I remember him muttering something about taking my “Stupid ass” to a place called Seireitei as I passed out. The first thing I remember was lying in a bed while the man in black discussed something heatedly with whom I guess was his captain. He wore a white hiori and seemed much more powerful than the guy who had kicked my ass so thoroughly. I remember how shocked I had felt when the man clad in black or Assif as he was called had told me about the arrangements he had made. If I wanted I could join up with the Shinigami, join their ranks so to speak, become part of the Gotei 6. I remember how he had explained to me how anyone who could break a fully trained Shinigami’s nose with a stick (granted he was taken by surprise) is more than capable of becoming a recruit. Though the more he spoke I wondered if he had let me hit him on purpose. Naturally I accepted his offer, anything was better than stealing for a living. Although it had kept me alive, I think I actually thought it a bit below me, a waste of my potential. I had set my sights on something higher than living through the day, I wanted a purpose.
The days as a recruit days blurred just as easily together as my days alone, yet I enjoyed them a lot more than the loneliness of Rukongai. Though it was hard enough for me to actually trust anyone; I remember how team exercises always were a challenge for me, I always wanted to branch out on my own and fight by myself. Of course that was not an option and learned quickly enough to at least trust the other recruits enough to have my back during the exercises. But that’s where it ended; after all I was better off on my own. I learned quickly, Zanjutsu came naturally to me and I advanced more quickly than by classmates. To be frank, I was pretty damn good with a sword or a Zanpaktou as it was called. I was pretty much invincible when paired up against my fellow recruits. My red-hilted katana which was the form my Zanpaktou had taken always felt alive in my hand, every stroke, every hit I dealt felt as natural as breathing. I also dabbled in Kido as was required, I got the basics down easily enough but I was always more drawn towards Zanjutsu, it was something about the heat of the fight, the clashing of swords and adrenaline rush that held a certain allure to me.
Graduation day came soon enough and it was shortly after that I truly came face to face with Apollyon for the first time. When I think about it, it’s an odd name for a Zanpaktou seeing as their names are usually Japanese or Chinese. Yet mine is Greek and means the destroyer. In Hebrew it would have been called Abaddon, both names have an ominous ring to it yet Apollyon himself is not anything close to being ominous. If I hadn’t been 100% sure that Apollyon was my Zanpaktou, I think I could easily have mistaken him for an ancient deity of sorts, an old god whose name no longer wanders the tongue of men, yet still seem as powerful as he ever was. We met in the sanctuary of my inner world. I remember how I had admired the scenery, the ground that was water yet as solid as any floor but not frozen or cold. Ripples would swirl around my feet as I walked but I would not sink below the surface of the solid water, not even an inch. A seemingly infinite number of glass pillars stood proud and tall reaching up against the sky, dotting the landscape as far as the eyes could see. Each cast my own reflection back at me, like a mirror. Above was a dark blue sky, peaceful and serene but there were no stars dotting the heavens. It was hard to tell where the pillars ended; perhaps they went on forever, always chasing that dark blue sky. Then I met him, Apollyon, Zanpaktou manifested into the reality of my world.
Riding a snow-white stag, Apollyon had been seated, clad in heavy plated armour. His eyes were like molten rocks and more importantly they had been fixed on me. His armour was intricately designed; with delicate patterns and markings engraved on it surfaced. I remember how the words “Blood and Silver” had appeared in my head when I first saw him. Thinking back I believe I had the right of it, Apollyon’s armour was coloured silver and dark red and stood in contrast to the stage he rode. Blood and silver fit him perfectly. Apollyon’s pauldrons had been shaped to resemble a pair of wolfs heads with glowing red eyes that shined fiercely. His helmet matched the fierce look that the rest of his armour gave him, several long curved horns protruded from the back of the helmet, their sharp points angled forward. Watching him I remember how I had flashed back to a book I had read as a kid; a book titled “Greek mythology”. Apollyon distinctly reminded me of Aries, the Greek god of war. But the most memorable thing about Apollyon was his eyes, not only did they look like molten rocks but they also had a way of looking at you as if they saw right through you; seeing you for who you really are. “Do you desire my power?” Apollyon had asked me, his voice booming like thunder but strangely encouraging, it felt as if his voice gave me strength while at the same time scaring the shit out of me. It was always like that whenever I’m around Apollyon and still is. It’s strange but it gives me a kind of comfort. Like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I remember nodding back at him, and how that was all it took. No questions, no trials, no challenges only a yes or no. It is always like that with Apollyon. I think it’s like that because of the way he looks at you; he can see you for what you truly are. Apollyon needs neither justification nor reasoning because he already knows your worth and your reasons. I still remember his booming voice in my ears as he told me his name for the first time.
“My name is Apollyon, call my name and I shall answer.”
The rest of my story however is still being played out and its details not yet clear, which is also why we end our little story time here with my first encounter with Apollyon.
Roleplaying Sample: Reyne’s eyes fluttered upon, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dimness of his inner world. Above him loomed a dark blue sky, though there were no stars dotting its infinite domain. His eyes were fixed upon the sky, a toothy grin decorating his face as it often did. It was sort of fascinating to him; this sky that was all his, yet it lacked the most essential thing that a sky should have. Where had the stars gone? Reyne asked himself as his eyes crossed the vastness of the night. Maybe there weren’t any to begin with, he concluded after a quiet moment of admiration. The Shinigami’s feet brushed lightly against the ground as he walked, ripples forming around his feet as he did. Oddly enough his footsteps made no sound as he walked. Muffled as they might be, there should at least be some sound but in this case there wasn’t. Reyne’s pace came to a halt and his eyes trailed down to his feet and the ripples that eventually smoothed themselves out on the watery surface. His eyes were filled with a sort of mild amusement, which was incredibly unlike him. Usually he would have preferred something more fast-paced to pass the time, but there was something about the wonders of this place that entertained him. The ground itself was also strangely fascinating, it was neither earth nor water but something in-between. Not as slippery or cold as ice either so that excluded that as a possible answer. It could have been glass, but glass is usually solid, meaning there would have been no ripples. Besides glass was usually far too fragile and even if placed in layers it would have a different feel to it than the material beneath his feet. Reyne dropped to a crouched position and gently knocked the surface beneath him. The ground gave a thin thumping noise in reply and ripples formed where his hand had been a moment earlier. The Shinigami shook his head and rose to his full height, patting down his clothes as he did. Whatever the ground was made off, it was no element Reyne had ever seen before. Then his attention turned elsewhere.
As far as Reyne could see glass pillars dotted the seemingly endless landscape. They seemed infinitely tall and it was nearly impossible to tell where the pillars ended and the sky began. He regarded them with the same mild amusement in his eyes. Had the pillars been there when he first came there? Reyne didn’t know and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed them earlier. This place is full of wonders, the Shinigami reflected as he walked up to a seemingly random chosen pillar of glass. He could see his own reflection thrown back at him, slightly twisted and with some exaggeration. Reyne could see his own crimson red eyes staring back at him from the pillar, the navy blue hair that reached down beneath his shoulder blades and the long thin scar across the bridge of his nose. The Shinigami’s grin grew wider as he admired himself in the reflection. “Damn, I look good!” Reyne would mutter to no one in particular; his voice edged with pride. Some would with no doubt call him shallow or vein, but it was not like Reyne gave a fuck. He was handsome and damn well proud of it. He let his finger trail across the glassy surface which strangely felt cool to the touch. Then Reyne noticed something entirely else in the mirror, a shadow in the background that filled the pillar’s surface with silvery, red and white colours. “Blood and silver.” The words echoed in his mind. The Shinigami turned around slowly; he knew that if the shadow meant to hurt him it would have done so by now.
Reyne blinked, baffled by the sight that meant him. His eyes met a tall man clad in armour seated upon a snow-white stag. Their eyes locked, The Shinigami’s crimson red eyes meeting the molten rocks of the man before him. For a long moment they stared at each other as if frozen in time. The man’s eyes seemed to pierce through him, seeing everything; it almost made Reyne feel naked. It was if the man only had to look at you in order to learn all your secrets, what made you feel proud and what made you feel embarrassed, your strength and weaknesses, your fear and your dreams, everything about you.
“Do you desire my power?”
The man asked, his voice a booming thunder. The contradiction that was the man’s voice filled Reyne with the same mild amusement as earlier. How ridiculous it all seemed to him, how in the world something could seem so terrifying yet strengthening at the same time was beyond him. But when he looked at the man before him, Reyne supposed it made sense. There was something godly about the heavy armoured figure in front of him; he resembled an ancient deity of a time long passed. Of course Reyne knew better; he was not, would not be fooled by the Zanpaktou’s impressive imagery. After all it was his Zanpaktou so it was only natural that it resembled a god. Though stating it was his, as if it was somehow his property felt strangely wrong to him. The Zanpaktou was a part of him, that he knew but it was certainly more than just a tool for him to use. The two of them were one; Reyne could even go as far as calling them equals, like two sides of a coin. A bond thicker than anything else; a bond thicker than blood.
Reyne nodded.