Ajaket Diashi
Posts : 172
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Join date : 2010-01-31
Age : 681
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 | Subject: Re-vamp Ajaket Diashi(Aiming for Second-in-command position of the Renacido)  Sat May 15, 2010 3:41 am | |
| Name: Diashi, Ajaket Has been referred to by: ‘Aja’ / Black-Robed One / Butcher of Hell Rank: Elite Arrancar, Second-In-Command. Age: Somewhere along the lines of 2,065 years of age(Note: This approximation of age is the time period in which Ajaket has been an arrancar, he is unsure how many years he has spent as a Hollow). Visual Age: 18 years Appearance: A youth, so close to the thralls of adulthood(In human terms). His appearance is a rather shoddy one, as he is unkempt to the letter. His clothes are often neglected and usually wrinkled, torn asunder, sometimes even filthy. Such tattered clothing gives a pretty bad impression for those who do not know him, well enough … as well as resulting in the underestimation of the lethality of Ajaket. Quite honestly, based on his attire, he looks more like a bum than a member of the most belligerent spiritual species. But, that suits him just fine due to his apathetic attitude about his dress. His physical condition is a bit different. His appearance is messier, appearance-wise, on a greater scale than that of his clothing. One may usually find him with his hair spread out in all directions like a pom-pom, or with some parts matted, others spiked upwards. The untamed black mess that is his hair occasionally drapes down and covers his eyes, hiding the crimson orbs that possess a hazel tinge to them. Often, one finds him yawning, while pushing the lengthy hair back so as to regain his sight. Surprisingly, his hair does not stink as he does happen to take the liberty to shower when the luxury is available, still ... it's like a wild growth of nature tangled up and stuck itself onto his head, and was dyed black. Beyond the messiness that is his clothing and the mophead hair, he is actually quite a fair-looking individual. White and clean skin, free of both hair growth and a similar mess upon his head, is abundant upon him, and his eyes have an unusually bright light to them, drawing attention because of their glow and of their odd color. If he got around to cleaning his hair and matting it back, it would be of a silk-like texture that covers his head and the back of his neck. His nose is also un-protruding, not quite being a large honker that juts out from his face. His ears are lost in the mass of black dead protein that is his hair. Interesting to note about his facial features is the apparent lack of eyebrows … though most don’t notice unless they are not intrigued by the eye color.(Crimson and Hazel) His body is mostly … average. He stands at a moderate height, and stature, and thus can not be imposing or intimidating … though that’d be impossible to his already lackluster appearance. It’s also apparent he's a bit on the thin side, and comparatively lanky(but not bony) with that of those who have honed their strength through training. But, no denying that there is something there, honed flesh that is strangely strong. His body is quite resilient and possesses high endurance. His hierro isn’t all that great, probably not better than the average arrancar. However, in a contest of strength, he possesses unusual physical strength that makes up for such a thin and seemingly untrained build. There is … one mark of shame upon him. No actually, there are two. The first of these marks is the faint imprint of the Arabic numeral ‘9’, placed on the palm of his left hand. It represents his failure as an Espada earlier in his life, and the rank was stripped from him. Luckily, the wound from having the tattoo removed has mostly healed, leaving only the faint reminder of the past. But even that small little patch of skin with a slight discoloration(albeit difficult to recognize unless one looked at it closely) stings Ajaket more deeply than it would seem. This small scar also serves as his motivation for serving the arrancar of Las Noches, as well as a source of his devotion, since the shame that the scar brings must be tended to with earned respect of the others, so that the shame can be forgotten. The second mark is not as easily hidden as the first. It represents the betrayal of his brother. Kenryu Diashi, age 768, the twin of Ajaket, attacked his brother with the intent of killing him. Ajaket survived, but a large diagonal scar has been carved into his back. Though it’s been almost a millennium since this wound has been inflicted, it serves as a painful reminder to Ajaket … and it helps him to remember to keep to himself, while remaining loyal to the arrancar. This is the primary explanation for his reclusive-like tendencies, until he opens up and makes friends. Additional Info: -Clothing of Choice: As mentioned, Ajaket is rather … messy when it comes being dressed. He hates complicated clothing, those that contain all sorts of locks, straps, buttons, zippers and whatnots to hold things together. So, things are simple. If they are not simple, they are burned. If they cannot be burned, then they shall be ripped. And if that is not possible, then they shall be donated. He tends to wear a jacket, which has a back the drops down to his feet, creating a sort of ‘tail’. The jacket’s sleeves are a wee bit too long for Ajaket, and he usually folds them up … or he doesn’t even bother with them. Occasionally, he drapes the jacket on his shoulders instead of actually wearing it. There are 'buttons' intended to keep the jacket closed up ... but Aja never bothers with them. Here's the unusual part. Unlike most arrancar, who wear white clothing, the jacket Aja dons is mostly black. He has received complaints before, but he claims to hate wearing white, as it is a pain to clean. The jacket is sort of more along the lines of an over-coat/trenchcoat mix. It's usually stained brown from coffee. Underneath the jacket, he tends to wear a white shirt of sorts. Simple, white ... usually clean, but sometimes he gets lazy and starts to re-wear clothing. He would not care for wearing a shirt really, and sometimes even goes out without bothering with anything on top except for his jacket. An interesting side note: He wears white shirts because out of habit, due to an immense amount of complain he received earlier in his life(specifically that of his habit of wearing a black jacket). It's quite close-fitting, unlike his over-sized jacket, but tends to get torn up a lot ... he uses the shredded ones as fuel for a fire. There are no logos, no symbols, no marks, and above all, no color on these shirts. But, strangely, the sleeve for the right arm does not exist(intentionally made that way), while there is one for the left arm ... Fracciones have asked how he has so many exact duplicates of these shirts, down to the odd sleeve lengths. For the bottom, it's a strange black AND white pair of pants, more fitted to look something like ... ... ... well, to put it simply, they're not really baggy. They're not quite tight-fitting, either though. The sash around his waist is the standard black one. Though it's there for formality's sake. As for footwear? Standard ones or barefoot. Usually not bare. -Height: 5’ 5.4” (166.116 cm) -Weight: 152lbs(68.94604024 kg)[/i] -Hollow Hole Location: Just around the abdomen ... somewhere down there. -Mask Fragment Location and Appearance: ???????? - No one knows as Ajaket has never told ... although it you look closely, there's this sort of white semicircle about his neck going from the left side, behind him, then attached on the other side. ... hmmmm. It looks like half a collar! Gender: If the appearance didn't tip you off, he's MALE Personality: How to say it … he’s a recluse. Numerous bad experiences in his life have shut his heart in recent years, and he is unwilling to be ‘friends’ with any random arrancar or other individual(unless he‘s drunk). He hides away from the world by sleeping, hence his usually apathetic and lethargic habits. His appearance is due to a conditioned habit of being sloth-like, and it also stems to the fact that most free-thinking individuals don’t wish to associate themselves with such a person whose appearance gives the wrong impression. However, to those who have managed to pry open the layers of barriers to his well-hidden heart, he opens up surprisingly. He can get quite animated, being rather … amiable and talkative, amongst familiar company. His trust is not easily earned, but once it has been, he’ll be a devoted friend until the end of world. Through thick and thin, he'll be there to support them, in combat or in the hectic daily life as an arrancar … A side note: He probably has the worst luck in the world. In most non-combat situations, the worst possible thing imaginable always afflicts him. (Anything from being in the path of a door slamming into his face, to be at ground level and walk right into where some large object falls from the 10th floor[or higher] or anything like that or worse). Due to this absence of fortune, and constant embarrassing even humiliating instances of his life, he tends to avoid people even more. His desire to avoid, and then running into one of these situations comes off to others as though he were some kind of a buffoon. But, such circumstances work into his favor as the sane(or at least sentient) ones who care about their personal image tend to stay away from him. But while he tries to keep them away, deep down he yearns to have friends … companions … confidants, people who he could easily talk to, fight with, and trust in. Thus, for those who choose to associate with him after putting up with his horrendous habits and dress, he tends to be a bit more open to, and if all goes well, he’ll consider them friends. But what contrasts so sharply to this lazy being, who acts stoic but possesses a gentle, humble nature that desires bonds, is the level of ferocity he has when engaged in combat. Alright, maybe not that large of a contrast, but this lethargic buffoon of an arrancar is surprisingly aggressive. While it’s not a complete one eighty from his normal habits, he finds great pleasure in battle … having a sort of ‘rush’ that is soothing, due to the exhilarating sensation of the adrenaline flowing through, the tension building, and overall the pulsating heart and mind of his as he tries to fight and kill whoever it is he‘s fighting. However, he does not engage combat and thus have a personality shift unless an enemy(being anything that’s not an arrancar) shows up in his pesquisa range. So, even if he gets the message that shinigami are going to attack, he won‘t bother picking up his sword until they get close enough for him to detect them. His sloth-like habits are disregarded, the layers of barriers are momentarily pushed aside to let slip the wrath and detest of his natural and instinctive self so that he fights to kill(and therefore win). Even, his stoic and silent tendencies are lost in the midst of battle. But, of course, this applies for only some time. Initially, he’s openly hostile to enemies, but … if they put up a good fight, or exquisitely suffer, his rude and profane façade gives way to a smiling mute. This is when he no longer minces words, but focuses on the battle at hand, enjoying the clash of blades, and reiatsu and the adrenaline rush(should there be any). Now, if the battle should wear on for too much, he becomes more foul-mouthed and a bit of a sarcastic smartass whose commentary is always given about his opponent. And if should his opponent fail to be one that puts up a decent fight, he may even consider just leaving the battlefield to find a nice place to nap. So, an arrancar who disguises his true nature out of fear for his own past to repeat itself, and craves for companionship as well as life-long struggle(battle). But who are we to determine if this is truly himself? How do we know that this is nothing more than a fabricated persona adopted for the rigors of being a killer in the Las Noches army? Simply put, we don’t, and won’t ever know. One thing is certain, his love of battle exceeds that of his love of company. A note: As time has progressed, his love for battle has extended into a love of music. But, the only sounds he loves most are the rondos of battlefields, symphonies of explosions(usually Ceros), operas of anguished cries, and the wondrous suites of shattering bones … one … after … another … and … another … and another. -------------------- Hair Color: Black, if the appearance didn't make it clear. Likes: Oh ... music. But not the music that most people would assume. Dislikes: Shinigami, though it's more of an instinctive dislike ... Crushes:-------------------- Specialties: None. Besides evading work, at ANY and ALL costs. History:What is he? Is he a man or a beast? Is he that of a human or of a monster? What is he? Why is he that? Can he ever go back, to what he was before? Would he ever go back? An Arrancar. The phase between that of the Shinigami and the Hollow. An evolutionary height in the quest for power of all Hollows. With powers of both sides, one cannot classify this being as to be of either races … but a new, perhaps superior one. Ajaket Diashi, an arrancar. He did not choose to go down the path of evolution that would lead to this state, but once he knew that this was the end … and that what he held dear could be returned to him if only he went on, he became it. Perhaps he could go back. Perhaps he could become a human … he could live out his life in the world of the living. That simple life filled with happiness, spawned of ignorance. But, such thoughts sicken him. He is of a new race … he is of a new being. His body now is capable of far greater things than ever imaginable. His life of today quashes all dreams of a life in the past. Though, that is not to say, that he does not think of the past. And often, in those nights of rest … he dreams of the past, much to his disgust. All Arrancar have a cycle of life ... and it all begins with interconnecting cycles that eventually merge together. The first being: Human -> The start of all circles, circumscribed in that of time. But who knows? and who cares? A human is insignificant. Although ... when this arrancar looks back ... there IS one memory, that he keeps to himself. - Spoiler:
He saw ... it. It was an inkling for him, a moment that would define his life. A moment that would lead him down the path to this day. He saw it, a sort of outline ... all its distorted self was coming. He could see its jaws open wide, the blurred outlines of teeth appearing ... ... and that they were coming down from above ... like some winged demon, who wanted to feed. But what drove Aja into a fury, was the sight of IT swooping down to clamp its filthy mouth on HIS brother.
Kenryu was unaware of this whole mess. He kept on going on his merry way, alongside his brother ... although he didn't notice that Ajaket stopped. He was humming slightly, a smile on his face as he wasn't thinking of the consequences that life had in juureichi, a spiritually charged zone.
He just remembered being pushed ... away. And the only thing he saw after trying to sit up from his sprawled position on the road, was the panicked face of Ajaket ... only a moment before the jaws of the Hollow clamped down, and his head was torn off. Disbelief took the younger twin, but he didn't have much longer himself ... as the Hollow was well aware it had missed its intended target. The poor twins, though there was time, neither had a chance to give their last words.
-
His(Aja) soul wasn’t quite devoured … it was contaminated by the Hollow. As was Kenryu’s (unbeknownst to Ajaket). Neither of them could be saved in time by the shinigami, who had responded late to the Hollow attack.
Hollow -> The Beginning of This Path. - Spoiler:
They say when a Hollow is born, its mind is usually blank. When it first comes into existence, it is incapable of moving … as though there is rigor mortis after its death as a plus. It sits there, immobile for the first few moments of its life. And then it awakens, as though it has been in a deep slumber. For the first time, it inhales the ectoplasm about it, and then … well, it depends on the Hollow to see what it first does. Most squirm about, and move their limbs experimentally. Other gnash teeth at the realization that their stomachs are empty. And others … react … differently …
-
Despair … that was the purpose behind the first actions performed by the new Hollow. It squirmed slightly, then suddenly it violently flailed, a lonely wail sounding out from whatever throat it possessed. As a bony beast was born, its body horribly disfigured, and its face covered by a mask, all it did was wail aloud. Its actions were justified from the powerful emotions that had crossed over from the past Human life. And for quite some time, it continued with its horrible cry, that screech which resounded in the midst of the desert. It drew the attention of Hollows in the area, but … none of the curious famished ones knew just what it was that they were doing.
They were provoking a beast to feed. And the taste of Hollow flesh and souls would be enough to break the the veil of sorrow of the Hollow and allow it regain … whatever sensibility it had.
”Where … ? Where … am I?” it inquired to himself, finding its voice after the slaughter fest. It knew that its throat felt … pained, for somehow. But it was not the Hollow, at least not yet in mind. It was still the human. It was still Ajaket.
”Why … do I …?” he never completed questioning his state of being. He felt odd. His body was sore, somehow and there was this strange sensation … a strange feeling in his arms. But, as he turned his head to examine the appendages that he had been so familiar with, he wondered why it was so difficult to move his head … and why it was so hard to breath … and see. But his question never finished. His words were caught in his throat at what he saw … for his fragile human mind could not comprehend the sight. The hideously disfigured limbs that were not of the familiar shape of hands. The screech he had given off earlier was more like a bubble popping compared to his horrified cry now.
-
Ajaket did not understand … he could not understand. And he would not be able to for years. That human psyche was suppressed, for the sheer shock of his appearance was something a bit too gruesome for him to take in.
He eventually developed his second ‘persona’, you could call it. The self that eventually bonded with his human personality, and resulted in what he is now … but this state of mind, when he became a Hollow driven by desires to eat … was virtually the antithesis of his human self in every way.
But, this chapter of life is dim to Aja himself. As all he can recall are the countless Hollows he devoured … but nothing else. Nothing else interested him, nothing else excited him, nothing else seemed to affect him.
But, like all other Hollows who proceed down the path of power, he would reach the end phases of the evolution.
=Menos= An Arrancar is born of a Hollow. And the most powerful of arrancars are born from the most powerful of Hollows. But, everything must have rules. Everything must have laws. Everything must have an order. -The Gillian: - Spoiler:
Ten! Thousand! Souls! Bound! Together! Each one struggling for dominance of the conglomerate body! Their form is that of a hulking mass, a being whose height matches that of skyscrapers! But no soul was demented, as vengeful, as sickened, as saddened as that of the one who had brought them all together.
No contest there. He knew it all. He knew that his desperate attempt to save his twin from years ago, had been futile. And that sorrow that was ever-present took a hold of him and the mass of the Gillian born from his feeding. Perhaps the fact that he retained consciousness even when trapped among thousands of moaning individuals, the fact that he could vividly recall the day of his death was what allowed him to evolve.
His final moments before advancing to the next stage contained hundreds of thousands of individual souls, for other Gillians had been devoured by him. Other conglomerate entities swallowed whole, and merging with him.
-
True, he probably spent a decade in that wretched form, repelling each soul and forcing it into submission of his will. It took eons to him, but … the end result was the beauty. The mask shuddering and twisting, his body convulsing. The sensation of pain that was so long ago was returning once more, but that pain was a literal eye-opener.
From the eyehole of the mask of the Gillian, a vortex of sorts formed, drawing upward the massive body of Gillian. And while it let loose the horrendous roar that was so common amongst its species, it found itself being turned inside out at the one spot before its eye. And slowly, it was crushed … slowly compressed. It massive body, the result of numerous Hollows bonded together through cannibalism, was forced into a single minute space. And for a moment, the dark ball that was the Gillian remained there. Floating, defying gravity.
It was rather … small … barely a fraction of the size of the original body. But the most shocking feature, was when it began to crack. Like an egg, the black sphere’s surface was slowly crumbling … and the cracks continued, expanding from the single point until they all branched out, overlapping each other, and covered the entire surface.
And for the once-Gillian, the end was a brilliant light! From the blackness it had come, light(albeit that of a dim source) shone towards it. While it enjoyed its apparent weightlessness in comparison to earlier, it noted the black ‘snowstorm’ of small ‘melting’ fragments of what had been the shell.
- -The Adjucha: - Spoiler:
He was … free. Free from the constant turmoil against thousands of others. This body, this unified form that was not unstable, was HIS. And much like his birth as a Hollow, he took a moment to inhale … but unlike his past experience, he calmly let his breath.
His new form seemed … light … strange, considering he still had multiple limbs. Somewhere around four arms were adorned about his left and right side , and they appeared to be armored. But the new sensation would not last long …
-
He ducked at the sight of a crimson blast raining down at him. Unlike his prior form, his capacity to think had probably increased tenfold, if not more than. The newly-born adjucha, had immediately recognized the attack to have been a ‘cero’, and his evasive maneuver was well-timed so as to evade the attack at the last moment … thus gaining a camouflage from the plume of sand that had been made from the failed shot.
”Nyaaaaaa … I just come into being, and already I’m getting attacked? Definitely not my day” were the first words out of his mouth, combining the sarcastic tone of his Hollow self with the whiny Human self from god-knows-how-long-ago, ”Pity, I know that trick too, Mr. Big Guy.” His mutterings were not heard by the correctly-assumed-to-be-a-god-damn-Gillian, which he noted to have let out a characteristic screech prior to shooting the blast.
Technically, he was a wee bit confused. Confused that he was able to walk on his own two feet, and not be mentally assailed, that he could think straight and not be interrupted by thousands of screaming voices. But, being the Hollow that he was, an arrogant and battle-seeking one, it didn’t take long for him to adapt, and like this new ‘form’ or whatever the hell this was.
And shortly after muttering, his cover was blown away by the Gillian inhaling for another Cero … okay, so it was sucked away. That was key enough for him to know that now was the best time to strike, which is precisely what the Adjucha did. A teeny-weeny Cero being flown in right towards the Gillian’s gaping mouth where a crimson light of sorts was shining.
Needless to say, the torrents that followed afterward were greatly enjoyed by the Adjucha.
-
It took him months after his reformation into the Adjucha state to delve into his memories … yes HIS memories, and remember his … well, his first name. He couldn’t remember his last, but nonetheless, at least now he knew he was, once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, called Ajaket.
It was a painful evening for him, as he recalled every detail of that day, which had been forever imprinted into his mind(then, that is). But … there was hope. Hope that ‘Kenryu’ had either survived the accident … or had successfully passed on as a ghost. Either way, getting to the realm of the living was a goal he wished to complete. It would enable him to determine whether or not Kenryu had lived or died that day.
However, getting to the realm of living was seemingly impossible … hell, Ajaket wasn’t even sure where the hell THIS place was. He needed answers, as many answers to the rabbit-multiplying population of questions appearing in his head! It would take weeks before he met other Hollows … other Adjuchas vying to … eat him.
He was thrown into battle against superior beings … against lesser beings. He was attacked, and sometimes he attacked. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost. But, one thing was always constant, he got away with his life every time. Even when utterly defeated, and having all his limbs probably broken, and possibly severe blood loss, his will and his desire to find the fate of his twin drove him on. He cheated death in the Hueco Mundo as many times as he could, evading it despite numerous close encounters. He didn’t avoid near-death experiences, though, and fainted on numerous occasions(while in the safety of hiding places).
Despite being on the offensive, there were several occasions were he spared enemies, all for the sake of getting answers. Other times, he was pitied … for his lack of knowledge of even his own existence. It didn’t take long before he got plenty of answers, much like he’d hoped for in the beginning … and then he understood. The drive to consume was a biologically evolved process, it was within all Hollow nature to reach the highest point of power. Especially since the price of not continuing advancement at the Adjucha state meant permanent reversion. It didn’t take long before he banded together with moderately strong Adjuchas, with a single purpose … to become Vasto Lordes.
Long … story … short. They failed … miserably.
It was just their luck to have encountered an arrancar within the next hour. Just their miserable god-damn luck to have run into a psychotic homicidal being far stronger than the rest of them. They were struck down, each and every one of them … even Ajaket was badly wounded. But before the deathblow was stricken to him, the arrancar was stopped … by yet another. The distraction of that sword-wielding monstrosity was enough to permit Aja to turn-tail and get the hell out of the place he had just entered.
His body and pride were wounded that day. With wounds that did not heal easily, and humiliation from having been so powerless, he was driven by a fury to become stronger. And that desire temporarily eclipsed his want to be able to traverse into the human realm. These two … perhaps they were the famed Vasto Lordes? He must achieve their level of power!
. . . -The Vasto Lorde: - Spoiler:
He didn’t notice the change. He didn’t know what he had done to do it. Actually, he was horrified to have progressed to this form, unknowing what had happened. He had shrunk … his mask was still about him, but now he was about the size of an ordinary human. Yes, he had his four arms, but for all that is holy beneath the night sky, he was more like an ordinary person?
Panic overtook him, as he tried to reason out what could have lead to this. But sadly no answers came to mind. Was this the will of some cruel god? Despite his smaller self … which had come with some sense of liberation, he did not seem ‘stronger’. Something in his mind nagged him about being weakened in some way. And the unknowing Hollow raged against whatever Heavens lay above him, in a hastily drawn conclusion that he was destined to be weak. His rage and sudden burst of energy from unrestrained emotional outbursts … unknowingly led to his discovery of the Garganta. He had forced open the gate of the dimensions, through an unthinking fit … … although … he wasn’t quite sure where the hell this was supposed to lead. Perhaps the gods were answering to his complaints?! Fine by him, he was geared up to pummel someone into a bloody mess!
Imagine, what surprise he had to discover that this ‘tunnel’ lead not to some higher plane … but back to the world of the living? That he was gazing down at a city, the very same city that he once called home? Though, it took him a few hours to finally realize that this place was, without a doubt, his former home.
-
Tears streaked from the mask, the pale bony mask with a wretched leer to it. He was … home? No, that wasn’t why he was crying … finally … finally, after so long, he could determine the fate of his brother.
The Vasto Lorde descended from the sky, and began hunting the city for signs of what should have been his house. The only issue here, is that Ajaket’s sense of time was perhaps delayed by years. He was hunting for a single home that was no longer … and in his fury, he unleashed a Cero to wipe out a whole block.
”WHY?! WHHHHY?!” he screamed aloud, an unusual thing for him to do, these days … where he just calmly went along with whatever life had in store for him. ”Why can’t I find anything about him? Why isn’t there any trace of him? Kenryu …!” he continued his tantrum, while smashing his way through traffic, unleashing destruction for the innocent people to behold. … Not once did it cross his mind that he was emulating the Hollow that had attempted to kill his brother years ago. He did not care to consider what his brash actions were doing to poor people down below … but then again, he was a Hollow, and petty morals didn’t interfere with his decisions.
In the end of his search, much like everything else, it was a mixed bag of emotions. Hope … that he could still be re-united with his brother … anguish, that he had been the one who had killed him.
-
In the short time of months, he learned much … while he began to brood a bit more, as well. The realization that he had been the cause of his dear twin’s death was just too much for him to take immediately … it would take time before he could deal with that fact. But, in this time of development, he learned more about the Garganta … the realm of the living and the realm of Hollows … the existence of shinigami … and their world, the Soul Society. By god, how he hated those black-robed fools, who pranced about passing ‘judgement’ upon Hollows. Those who think themselves the force of righteousness were convinced that that was enough justification to kill! The Hollow killed due to the need of nourishment! While eating each other was necessary for evolutionary purposes, the Plus was the vital aspect to feed the insatiable appetites of Hollows. There was no alternatives to Pluses! Yet these shinigami, deeming themselves the ‘protector’ of the ‘balance’ of the worlds of living and worlds of spirits … blegh it made Aja sick to even say their name.
Transition to Arrancar = The End of the Line: And now we reach the conclusion of the story of Ajaket. Or really, the start of the newest chapter. - Spoiler:
It was very simple … he was traipsing about the White Sand desert … praying that, although really it shocked him that he hoped for this, his brother had also been turned into a Hollow … and hopefully had gotten through the various stages of Hollows. All the while, he cared not to restrain his reiatsu … making him a rather large open target. But he understood, now, that he was a Vasto Lorde … he was one of the more powerful beings in all of Hueco Mundo! There would be no way that he could be defeated! Right?
Dead. Wrong.
He encountered a Vasto Lorde Arrancar … worse, the current Segunda Espada of Las Noches at that time. But, Aja, being that overconfident being in his own strength, had no qualms in challenging this white-robed stranger … who bore a sword much like a shinigami! That was what riled him, this person looked like they could be a Hollow, what with their mask bit and Hollow hole … but that Zanpakuto! That SWORD, the abominable weapon. Like hell this was a Hollow.
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He made a mad rush forward, relying on his enhanced speed to take down his opponent. There was quite a distance between them after all, and he was surprisingly quick despite his appearance. He laughed maniacally as he rushed forward, closing the gap between him and the despicable foe faster than the blink of an eye. With both left arms clenched into fists, he swung a megaton punch forward, with every intent to shatter the fool’s ribcage and to leave a dent in his gut.
Only … except … his punches flew through nothing.
There was a strange hum … a slight buzz … and then his arms, they … they were reduced to bloody dangling pieces of meat! The blow had come too quick for Ajaket to realize that he … he had been wounded? But before he could even feel the pain of the numerous cuts on his arms, his body exploded. Thousands of gashes were imprinted onto him, and his blood sprayed out creating a crimson mist. The Vasto Lorde fell to his knees, eyes bulging from underneath the mask as he let out a strangled cry of what was probably agony. Long strings of profane phrases with no sense of modesty were escaping his mouth, as he continued to cry out aloud from the new level of pain that he felt. And while he knelt there, refusing to collapse just yet, he felt the cold … wet blade of his enemy’s zanpakuto press against his neck.
”And what shall we do with you, child?” the bastard inquired, his voice was … somewhat hoarse … and Ajaket noted that his opponent was … well … not really all that old, despite his voice.
”Fucking … bloody … geezer. Just … kill me”, Ajaket spat out, blood dribbling from his mouth and leaking out of his mask. He was unable to move his leaden body, so his death was inevitable … he already accepted the fact that he might one day die … but at the blade of this one? The humiliation was too much; he wanted this life to be over already. But before the response came … Ajaket had one last thought … he noticed that a bit of his mask had been slashed off … specifically around his eyes and forehead. There was exposed flesh there … and for the first time, Ajaket could feel the occasional breeze of the desert touch against his sweaty face (despite it being only part of the face). His seemingly last thought was … a comment about how nice the breeze felt.
But the end never came. Only a slow chuckle, that eventually rose into laughter.
”Heh heh … ha … HAHAHAHAH!! Feisty one, aren’t you? Ah ha ha! It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone with such guts!”, he calmed down from his laughter, wiping what seemed to be a tear from his eye. The man drew his blade away from Ajaket, sheathing it away, while he resumed speaking, ”I was going to kill you … but … it’d be such a shame to let someone as fierce and strong as you to die! It’d be better to turn you into an arrancar!”
”An … arrancar?” Ajaket inquired … confused at this new word. Little did he know what he was about to get himself into.
- Induction to Las Noches! The Newest Diashi Family member!: (This marks the beginning of Aja’s 2065 years of being an arrancar) - Spoiler:
The Segunda Espada that had defeated Ajaket was more than happy to turn the all-willing Vasto Lorde into an arrancar. Iyssehren Diashi, was his name. And upon successfully turning Ajaket into an arrancar, the Espada added him to the already growing clan.
Ajaket Diashi would be his name from now on.
Really now, what can one say about the Las Noches chapter of Ajaket’s life? It was very dull, serving as a Fraccion to the man who had transformed him … he rarely had the chance to engage in combat. True, he learned much from the Espada … including how to be civil, among all things, but it frustrated him that he seemingly hemmed in and prevented from going out to exercise new-found powers. At least, it was like this for the first few months.
But there was a reason why he was kept from fighting in the beginning … a gut-wrenching reason for Ajaket. The Espada had been waiting for the successful awakening of Aja’s twin. According to Iyssehren, he knew the two were twins due to their similar appearances while in the Vasto Lorde state …
-
”K- … Kenryu?” Ajaket stammered at … the sight of his brother … his twin. It was like he was looking at a mirror image of himself, as Kenryu was wearing a similar white outfit (and his Mask Fragment was hidden somewhere).
”Kenryu? Is it really you?!” he cried aloud, already incapable of holding back tears at the sight of his beloved brother. Ken smiled and gave a quiet ‘yes’ in response. Needless to say, Ajaket was seemingly attached to his brother, not wanting to let him go.
-
The Diashi Twins, as they were soon known as, became a feared fighting duo. They worked together in tandem, slaughtering enemies … shingami, bountous, quincies, superhumans, even rogue arrancar. Eventually they even rose up in the ranks together, from Aja’s #22 and Ken’s #23 … they entered the Exequias due to their ruthlessness in slaying traitors and powerful devotion to the Espada of Las Noches.
Between the two twins, Kenryu was the stronger. He was better developed in his abilities, and a more adept user of arrancar powers and his Ressureccion. For that, he found himself cutting down a rebellious Exequias Commander and then taking his rank. Ajaket was appointed the second-in-command of the Exequias.
But … as time goes by, things change. Ajaket had once been the brash, young man whose ferocious nature made him a feared person in the White Castle … but, as time progressed … perhaps the influence of his twin caused him to mellow out somewhat. He was not as hostile as he used to be … less hot-headed and more likely to think through tight situations than blindly charge in. And while he began to chill, his twin was … getting drunk off power, you could say. Desiring to claim an Espada rank, he was willing to challenge his way up … only to be humiliated in front of a live audience of Numeros as he was defeated in seconds. Needless to say, that was throwing the fat on the fire … and the fire being a manifestation of his behavioral patterns … it was like the twin’s personalities had swapped somehow, though not entirely.
However, there was … one profound difference between the two. Ajaket has a deep amount of bond to his sibling, only because he’s gone through a literal hell just to find him … and sheer chance has allowed him to be with him. Kenryu … while he cares for his brother … doesn’t have such attachments. So surely, one could assume what happened when Ajaket, for an impressive field record and substantial amount of strength was awarded an Espada rank.
Envy … oh yes, that lovely … disgusting emotion. Funny how envy can usually lead to anger, appropriately named ‘Wrath’.
768 years after both of them became part of the arrancar army in Las Noches, Kenryu attempted to kill his brother. The attempt fails, as the remainder of the Exequias forces detain him at the last moment … and haul him off to be executed, despite the desperate pleas of Ajaket.
All that remains of the rest of the history, is darkness. Ajaket changed entirely, being demoted to Privion due to failure to complete any mission assigned to him. His personality shifted, becoming somewhat like it is today, reclusive … quiet … at least to those who walk by and see him. He remained that way, in that rank. But all the while, he developed a grudge against some Espada … and the Exequias. And that grudge would be what motivated him to bide his time, developing his power. Until the day came at last, the ranks were nearly wiped out ... and several new Espada had to be re-appointed. Ajaket could care less ... his bloodlust, for the time being, was now sated ... and no one could point their fingers at him, since the Exequias were no longer in this world.
To this day, he's biding his time ... wanting to regain the prestigious rank of Espada, so that he may have an excursion to the Human realm when he wishes ... that way, he can search for his brother, just like some millennia ago, when he was wandering the White Sand desert. The fate of Kenryu is unknown to him, and there's plenty of evidence to show he's escaped.
Innate Ability: N/A At this point in time, even after two millennia of living, Ajaket has found himself without an innate ability. He doesn't want one, and he doesn't have one. Suits him just fine. Picture of Character:Sample Chapter: (All the italicized portions littered in my Bio count as sample Chapter/Roleplaying samples ... just a note) Old RP Sample: - Spoiler:
-Flashback?-
His breath came up short, as he was already exhausted from evading the endless sword strikes from his demented twin. All the while, he cried out, trying to reason to Kenryu. But in his mind he was screaming to himself ‘No. Good lord, no!! This … this … this can’t be real!’ Those thoughts were wrenched from his mind as his poorly timed dodged allowed the tip of his brother’s blade to cut into his side, and rip out a decent chunk of the flesh there.
He was too out-of-breath to let out a cry of pain, already sobbing at the sight of his twin. His twin he had sought to find, and had fought through unimaginable hells of varying magnitudes to reach. The one who he so dearly loved.
Again, his wandering thoughts were cut short. Why on earth, or Las Noches in this case, was he allowing his thoughts to awry? He was in the midst of comba-
A blow connected, though not a sword stroke. It was a punch, Aja could tell from the impact … but he failed to grasp the purpose of such a strike until … his jacket! It was being pulled forward, and Kenryu was already twisting his body about as he pulled with all his might. Ajaket’s vision was filled with stars as his face slammed headfirst into the wall of the hallway.
“By god … brother or no brother … I can’t let him kill me now!” he urgently ordered himself, trying to maneuver out of the way. Luckily, he was still on his feet … and he was thankful that Iyssheren had drilled him in using his sonido. Had he not trained to use that ability, he would have had his head blown off by the cero from Kenryu.
Ajaket tried to continue using his sonido, but … god damn it all, he was exhausted from this prolonged fight. Why? Why did his brother want to kill him so badly? And how the fuck was he able to keep on going like this? Surely he was exhausted himself?!?
As these thoughts ran through his mind, he panted heavily to himself … forcing his body to move on, despite the complaints it gave, and that his vision was starting to grow faint.
Clop.
He heard it, the sound of a forceful stamp against the ground. It was distinct, since it usually occurred when someone had jumped, and landed. Ajaket was unsure … and perhaps his indecisiveness cost him. Though for a moment, he hesitated, and when he tried to press on, he felt the blade of his twin slash across his back.
He awoke with a start, gasping loudly as leapt up from his bed, hand placed over his heart that was hammering away as though it were trying to rip itself out of his chest. And … with a momentary pause to regain a steady breath pattern, he let out a sigh … before collapsing back down with a groan.
”Not another damn nightmare …” he cursed mentally. It had been centuries since that damned incident, and yet every night … he dreamed it like it was real. Why couldn’t the arrancars invest in a psychiatrist? God, did he need one.
New RP Sample Chapter: - Spoiler:
And so he stood there, lest than a few feet away from the twitching and groaning mess of Iyssehren, his adoptive ‘father‘. There lay the Segunda Espada, the second most powerful fighter in Las Noches. All those hopeful visions of this man being a powerful being that could defy even the Heavens, the one who had defeated him when he was a Vasto Lorde and brought him to the Palace of the Arrancars.
The black-haired youth covered his eyes from the sight, as he tilted his head back to laugh weakly. Here lay his ‘father‘, out between the palaces of the Espada, underneath the wretched sun. Here lay his soon-to-be-corpse, it‘s limbs all hacked off to blood stubs … his eyes gouged out, his teeth smashed in … and blood pouring from all his wounds! He cries of perhaps mercy, or maybe agony were not able to reach the mind of Ajaket, as he gazed down at this old fellow. This one who had shown him his twin, so many years ago … and the one responsible for sending his twin brother to his death!!
A bitter scowl formed upon the fair skinned youth‘s face, shrouded by the screen of his hair. His crimson eyes gazed down hatefully. His left hand was clutching his sword, drawn and ready, but ready to do what? He had not decided, was he going to torment ‘father‘, or was he going to mercifully kill him? Aja proceeded forward, his footsteps crunching down and sifting the sand with each step. He winced for a moment, wanting to have not made any noise so as to approach Iyssehren without him noticing.
But, alas, Fate was a bitch. And soon the frail old fellow called out, in a broken, pitiful voice so unlike that which had formerly belonged to his idol, his master, and his parent. In that crackling voice, filled with panic, Iyssehren cried out for who was there, as if he was in any position to demand anything of anyone. Habit, it seems, did not die easily. As whenever asked this question, Ajaket would immediately utter “Here … ‘father‘.”
And thus the old man smiled, the scarred and marred face of his beamed at the presence of his son! He spoke out the boy’s name again, in a sort of reverence, repeating it in a more vigorous, but nonetheless begging tone … the name came out, repeated like a mantra. Until cut short by a screech, elicited from the impalement of Aja’s blade into Iyssehren’s remainder of a shoulder.
”Tell me … ‘father‘. I have a right to know, before you kick the damn bucket! … Was the person who attacked me at night, several hundreds of years ago … my brother? … Was the person who you claimed to be Kenryu … actually … him?” he spat out, malice clearly upon his words, as he crouched down to a knee to spit these into the old man’s ear. He had to know. He must know! For so long, he heard rumors, whispers, and idle chatter … now he would hear the truth!
With himself bent, he knelt by the dieing old man, awaiting the response to the question … and a small gurgle came from ‘father’, which drew Aja’s attention and ear closer. The gurgle had been a laugh … and next came a faint, unintelligible mutter. Or seemingly unintelligible. The arrancar drew back in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape, hurriedly standing upright so as to avoid falling into a sitting position. How many times did he blink in these few moments, confused by what he had been told? Told by this decrepit, yet … smiling being? A moment passes … and several more follow, til the thoughts of Aja calm themselves, and he attends to the business at hand.
”I see, then, ‘father‘. Thank you. For all that you have given me. … Good bye.” he states calmly, as brusquely as possible to be more accurate. The old man smiles right at the words ‘Good bye’, and awaits the blast so commonly used by arrancar. The ray of destructive energy, with its menacing glare. And the deed was done, in just a moment. Iyssehren Diashi was no more. The coup d'é·tat of the rebel few was progressing favorably, and this death meant that only the Primera of the old era still lived.
The arrancar continues on. His mind is not focused on revolution, or even the death of his adoptive parent. He focuses on the last few words given to him, which would become the source of all his positive emotions. It would his purpose for existing for who knows how long.
“’He was never in this world.’” he repeated to himself in his mind, the lost smile of his existence slowly returning to its rightful place.
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