Out Of Character
Name/Alias/Nickname : Ryan
Age : 21
Screen Name : a red ribbon
Time Zone : PST
Role-playing experience : Closing in on a decade.
Average amount of time online per day: 4-8 hours depending
Have you ever Rped Bleach before? (Describe briefly) : N/A
Have you been in any other Bleach role-playing groups? (List them): N/A
What is Hantarou's Bankai ? : N/A
Are you applying for CC (Canon Character) or OC (Original Character)?: OC.
( If CC, contact myself ( cero biast ) or Jordan ( event rejection, iovely nanao)
What is your character? (Shinigami, Quincy, Human, Arrancar, Hollow): Shinigami
In Character
Surname : Akagawa
First Name : Meshii
Age : 22
Height : 6'3"
Weight : 215
Division [Shinigami] : 9th
Type [Arrancar/Hollow] : N/A
Personality (Basic description) : Calm and stoic for the most part, though once someone gets close he tends to open up towards them to some degree. Getting to that point with him however is harder than one would expect.
Physical Appearance : Long and lanky with lean muscles across his form, very pale skin, and light hair. Always wearing a red silk cloth around his eyes, everyones assumption is that the man in blind. Also, a pair of goat like horns on his head are permanently set in place, the right one broken in half has been filed flat, while the left is fully intact.
History/ Biography : Born a misfit, a drain on society and his own family, the boy was never given a proper name; and was given to the streets before he could even walk. By all rights the boy should have died and never seen the light of another day, but every good story begins with hardship, right? The nights grew cold and hard, but along with a small group of orphans the young child learned to crawl, and eventually walk. From the time he could walk he worked with the rest of the group stealing to survive. Like most of the small orphan groups, eventually they were caught and one by one they were killed, imprisoned, or left the area. The last one to remain was Meshii. (The name his friends had given him.) Where would he be accepted? Where could he get away from it all? He could become a Shinigami. He'd be fed, clothed, housed. Everything sounded perfect. Years through the academy brought him finally into the eyes of a certain Captain of the thirteen squads. Tousen-sempai. The blind Captain of 9th squad. As both were blind, Tousen took a liking to the young man and eventually took him into his squad until the day he left to join Aizen. Meshii promised on that day he'd find a way to get Tousen back for betraying him for all those years, and that is where the story continues now.
Posssible shikai to be obtained) : Koutetsu-Karite (Steel Reaper). Release Command "Sunnapu Koutetsu-Karite!". Unreleased form A rather simple katana with a hand guard made of two small sickle blade to blade. Shikai: The katana becomes a Kusaritou, or chain sickle the chain itself folded over time and again thus able to extend to long distances. Bankai: The Kusaritou is withdrawn and drug down the middle of his own chest cutting him open; blood flowing out looking much like a Seppuku gone wrong. The blood as it drips down his body forms a crimson Sakurai-esque armor with six Kusarigai (Chain scythes) across his back, three on each shoulder. The blindfold around his eyes drops away and falls into his hand forming a small daggeresque Zanpakutou which he uses to control the chain scythes like a conductor controlling an orchestra. Speed of the chains and his own movements are increased substantially.
Character image : E-mail me for it. I'm too lazy to host on Photobucket.
Sample Post : I hate sample posts ;-;. Anyway uh... Here.
Telltale click clack of the hard sole'd geta sandals he wore could be heard against the cobble streets of The Soul Society. Ever since the rise of the Arrancar everything had been so hectic that all the divisions barely had time for rest or relaxation; much less appreciation for anything or anyone around them. That is why instead of sleep most nights Meshii found himself wandering alone through the streets; cool night air against his skin refreshing compared to the warm days that rained down upon them over and over again. Black gi top was left open, exposing the white cotton wrap about his chest and the waistline of sashed hakama bottoms. Almost too skinny, the man seemed sickly in some ways with the pale skin and matching pigment free hair; red silk ribbon over his eyes announcing his weakness to all those around him, though he'd lived with it since birth and it hardly bothered him anymore, though now and then when someone brought it up in cruel jokes it could still be hard to deal with. A dark shadowy corner, the perfect emo brooding point. That was where he'd make his stand for now, lithe shoulders falling back against the wall while overhang hid him from the light of the moon. A small carved oak pipe removed from gi top and it was packed with sweet flavored tobbaco and then lit with a match struck against the wall of the building. Truely there was nothing better than taking time to ones self to sit and think.
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