Post by Harmony on Feb 19, 2008 3:21:24 GMT -4
Arrancar
Name: Calixta – means most beautiful.
Gender: Female
Age: 68 years
Ranking: Espada Royal (princess)
Number: none
Base Type: none - was born an espada
Physical Description:
Calixta is stunningly beautiful, almost flawlessly so. She is of average height, reaching around 5' 6", and her body is slim and slender, toned with lean, flexible muscle. At first glance she seems fragile, as though she could be broken like glass, but this is far from the truth. Her hair is dark and rich like milk chocolate, and it falls down her back in cascades of lovely, full curls. Her skin is pale and soft; it feels new, like she had never experienced time. She has a sweet, often mocking expression on her face, and when she smiles, there is a slight dimple in her left cheek. Her lips are full, but not over powering, and her alluring emerald eyes are deep set and almond shaped; her wide-eyed stare is stunningly intense, capturing all who return her gaze.
Like most Arrancar, she wears all white, often an elegant sleeveless gown with lace trim. When she plans to fight, she wears tight, formfitting pants and a long sleeved shirt with a zipper that is let down part of the way to reveal her hollow hole.
Her hollow hole is located directly in between her collar bones, and her partial mask closely resembles a white masquerade mask, framing and bringing out her eyes in a very attractive, mysterious way.
Personality
Calixta’s most prominent trait is that fact that she is unbelievably vain. She holds great pride in her own physical appearance, and is known to stare at her own reflection for hours, obsessing over herself constantly. She thinks, and often states, that everyone should be beautiful, but of course not as beautiful as her; She feels that those who do not live up these standards should be punished with death, and nothing less will do. Calixta relishes in the affection or compliments of others, often begging to hear several times a day just how beautiful she is.
She does not surround herself in friends, but admirers, as she calls them. For the most part, she feels that the lives of others are fairly dispensable, and tends to only keep people that can benefit her in some way nearby. She can be unintentionally insulting to those around her because she speaks her mind without hesitation, and often, most of her thoughts of a person, good or bad, are announced to them within moments of meeting them, and will even remind people several times of their flaws.
Calixta’s favorite pastime is reading, poetry in particular. She feels that novels are too long to be beautiful, and she wishes to read only words that appeal to her personally. She seeks solitude when she reads to avoid the pressures of her status.
Though Calixta is delicate, her spirit is strong, and she is unafraid of most things (other than death itself) . She is quite the fierce fighter, severely lacking in mercy or forgiveness. She is wrathful and devious, the perfect psychologist. She pinpoints very quickly the weakest points in a person's heart, and she will physically and verbally attack them relentlessly until they are dead, or she is defeated. She toys with her prey as a cat would an ant, never beginning with her strongest attacks, rather she allows her victims to think they have some hope before she destroys them. She loves it most when she sees the light of realization in their eyes, that instant when true fear and hopelessness grips them. Her physical elegance contrasts her love of carnage; she is not a wilting flower, but rather a beautiful predator, drawn constantly to the thrill of the hunt, the taste of victory. She is known for unprovoked and malicious acts of violence within both the arrancar society and the realm of the living. It is said when she is not fawning over herself in a mirror, she is hunting the less significant for her own enjoyment.
Despite this, she very gracefully accepts defeat when she is bested: she is not the type to die trying, or to push herself when all hope is lost. To her, fighting is a game that only she may win; never would she give her life for any cause, no matter how great. She will retreat into the darkest darks of Hueco Mundo the very moment she realizes she cannot win.
As a leader she is incredibly unobservant and neglectful. She does not care for her subjects in the least, and does not see the value of their servitude. She rules herself alone, only paying attention to her fellow Espada when urgency draws her to them, or when she is advised to make some sort of decision. She is easily manipulated in this way, and it is not difficult for others to rule through her as a puppet. She very easily beleives the things she wants to hear; simple flattery earns her trust.
History: (notably shorter than my typical history due to youth and lack of exciting events... NOT laziness)
Calixta's birth was received with much celebration, and though she was the second child of the two royals, she was treated with as much care as Desperado, her older brother. Growing up she hardly spent any time with Desperado or the other Espada so she inherited the less desirable traits of those that do not have any playmates. She never learned to share or treat others with respect.
Her father absolutely adored her, and he often showered her in gifts and praise and expected others to do the same. Calixta soon came to expect affection from others, feeling as though everyone should adore her. As the years passed, Calixta's need for attention developed into a more pronounced problem: she soon felt as though she was the only person of importance in the world. She began to take pleasure in torturing others; she would sit in the deserts of Hueco Mundo and slowly tear apart the weakest of the hollows with her bare fingers, delighting in their screams. Death was a game... her favorite game. She enjoyed the sense of ascendancy it gave her to hold the fate of others in her palms. Arrancar were executed often in those days...Calixta often made up crimes for those that did not flatter her in praise, and her father would kill them under her command. No one mattered to her.
As she grew and developed her powers, she often disappeared into the dessert to hunt hollows. They were stronger than the helpless creatures she killed as a child, yet they all still fell under her power. Killing became an obsession, her most beloved pastime. Her father worried for her safety, but he never argued with her... he only knew how to give her what she wanted. After awhile she acquired a taste for shinigami blood, and she started making her first appearances in the living world. She lured weaker hollows into the streets below to alert the shinigami, and as they battled, she would come down and feast. She'd kill the hollows and shinigami alike. She had no friends or enemies, only food... only her love for carnage. She'd kill slowly, bathing herself in blood.
When Desperado left, seeking a break from the affections that Calixta thrived on, Calixta's father hardly let Calixta out of his sight. No longer would he allow her to leave freely; she was under constant surveillance. With the sudden loss of his only son, her father feared that he would lose Calixta, his darling flower. It was this surveillance that pushed her away. True, she loved the attention, but she could no longer kill as she pleased: in solitude. She hated to be watched as she took apart her prey... those dirty inferior eyes on her constantly...it was enough to make her sick. It was one thing to be gazed upon in reverence, but it was another to be forced to share her truest of loves with others.
So, one night, Calixta left. She ran far and long from the tall white towers that held her prisoner, and her father was never able to catch her. In anger, he destroyed his palace, slaughtering every arrancar that stood against him until finally, his own wife, the beautiful and quiet queen, murdered him. She abandoned Las Noches after this, and for years, the lonely white halls remained neglected.
In time, Desperado did return, followed by Calixta.
She had been living in the vast desert of hueco mundo, feeding on the shinigami and stronger hollow as she traveled to the living world. She grew immensely in power during this time, and was feared throughout Hueco Mundo as a bloodthirsty killer... the last of the known Royals. With the return of her brother however, a new name echoed on the wind and Calixta shuddered at the sound: "Desperado..."
Feeling her fame compromised, Calixta returned to Las Noches as well to find her parents gone. She did not grieve for her father, though she grew spiteful. Without him around to shower her in affection, Calixta grew bored and unhappy. There was little joy for her under the rule of Desperado, and she soon began to plot his death. If she had the crown, she would be recognized as the most powerful espada, and therefore, she would be feared and loved by all. However, her plans failed when he yet again disappeared without a trace, and Calixta claimed the crown.
Additional Info: Calixta has a distinct love of birds, and will not kill any bird -type hollow because they are beautiful to her. She is currently searching for a small one to keep as a pet.
Abilities (pre resurrecction ):
General:
Name: Haruto
Appearance: A katana with a pearly white blade that glistens in distinct luminousity. Feathers decorate the guard.
Resurrecctión
Armor/ Appearance: After activating Resurrecctión, hundreds of bone-like feathers sprout around the sides of her mask, creating a stunningly powerful frame of her face, much like a chieftain's headdress. These feathers sprout also out of her back and shoulders, and form a noticeable abundance on her left shoulder as though it were trying to form a single wing. These feathers are her second armor, a temporarily disposable extra layer of protection
A white bird beak forms also at the bottom of her mask fragment, and protrudes from her face, which again adds to the focus on her eyes.
She wields her zanpakutou also in this form, and it transforms to the shape of a giant falchion.
Abilities:
Bala :: The technique hardens the user's spiritual pressure and fires it like a bullet from their fist. Though weaker than a cero blast, it moves about twenty times faster
[Arrancar only]
Cero:: High-powered energy blasts that can be fired from various body parts, such as mouth, tongue, hand or fingers
[Menos, Arrancar, & Vizard only]
Garganta:: It literally tears open the dimensional fabric separating the worlds, revealing a tunnel of whirling, torrential energy that must be focused and solidified to create a discernible pathway
[All hollow possess this ability, though the appearance of the ability differs according to a hollow's strength]
Hierro:: Hardened skin caused by the compression of spirit power. This allows Arrancar to block released Zanpakuto bare-handed, but is not impenetrable. Stronger Arrancar possess stronger skin.
[Arrancar Only]
Negacion:: A field that surrounds a target and pulls them towards the caster. This is often used to rescue or protect fellow Hollow
[Menos class and Arrancar only]
Pesquisa:: The ability to sense and track spiritual power
[All hollows may possess this, though the strength of this ability depends on the strength of the user]
Sonido:: Allows the user to travel at incredibly high speeds for short distances, similar to flash step.
[Arrancar only]
Other Characters:
Masaru - 6th Division Captain
Namida - Academy Student
Roleplay Sample: ((A post made on this site with my character Namida))
She nearly fell out of the tree in her surprise. The world rushed and tumbled around her, and she could feel herself tumbling with it... legs slipping! Her panicked mind raced and with a grunt of effort she managed to save herself, wrapping her arms about the branch at the last second. The rest of her body halted in the air, and the weight yanked painfully on her thin arms. She fought the urge to cry out and she shifted her grip... she could already feel her fingers slipping...
The ground spun under her dangling body and her eyes widened in horror as she realized just how high up she really was. A great lump formed in the back of her dry throat as shivers of paralyzing fear gripped her... don't fall asleep... The strength was already draining from her arms and she fumbled weakly to pull herself upright, a pained grimace breaking out on her pale face as the bark bit at her skin. A struggle that lasted only a few short seconds felt like an agonizing eternity, but with a final kick of her feet off the trunk, Namida found herself pulled back to her previous perch.
With a relieved sigh, she collapsed on the branch, her arms and legs dangling on either side. She blinked slowly and stared blankly, wondering feebly why she woke up in such a strange place... it happened so often... She bit her bottom lip and wiped the tears out of the corner of her eye with a reddened hand. She was always blacking out and waking up in places she didn't expect, and it both frustrated and terrified her. She never spoke of this to another person, leaving the weight of her problems and fears resting solely on her own shoulders and it left her often feeling worn down. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than this problem she had, and all too often the accusing voice in her head would say with a cruel sneer, "You really are crazy... you know that right?"
Sometimes she wondered if the voice was right. What if she really was crazy?
She fought back her impulse to cry. She could feel it in her stomach... a sick, heavy feeling. Her loneliness consumed her entirely at times like this, and she longed for companionship. It was her own fault that she was alone... her fault. She pushed others away. She acted mean, acted like she didn't care about anyone or anything... she built great big thick walls around her injured heart and dared others to attempt to break them down. No one ever did. She blinked back the inevitable tears and her sight blurred as they welled up and rolled down, dripping from her cheek to the ground below. It was such a long way for a tear to fall. She hated herself. She really did. Was she truly so weak that all she could think to do was cry? She forced her irregular breathing to calm, and she sat up, putting her hands again to her eyes.
She thought finally of Peter, that boy who haunted her dreams. She wanted to sink into the pages of the book, and live forever with the lost boys... and Neverland... Neverland would make her forget. The great island in the sky where dreams drifted in the whispers of children, and rained fairy dust. That's where she wanted to be... she wanted Neverland to work its potent magic on her heart and mind, and wipe her clean. She wanted to be rid of those memories from so long ago. She despised her past self. Even in life, she had hated the person she had become. She once told her mother that she wished she never met that man who destroyed her in his parting, the man she had adopted as a father. Her mother berated her for saying such a wicked thing, but Namida's mind was not swayed... she wanted to forget it all.
Just then, music drifted in the distance like leaves in the wind, and her melancholy thoughts were temporarily silenced. She stared forward, leaning meticulously on the edge of the tree branch. Who was that?
The music swelled and entranced her, it's haunting and hypnotic melody speaking to her heart in a raw fervent voice that sent shivers down her spine. Envy and admiration filled her gaze as she stared shamelessly at the boy responsible. There was something so tragic and so beautiful about his playing that Namida felt a pang in her chest... she needed to be closer. She couldn't move or breathe. She hadn't felt this way in a long time, and regret flooded her heart as she realized she would never know this person who could play with such rhapsody.
As suddenly as it began, the music died with one last impassioned note echoing in the placid courtyard, and Namida realized that the music truly had come from his heart... it was all his, and it was unique from anything she ever had or would hear; it was like a flower in the desert that bloomed at sunrise in a color never before seen by human eyes... She swallowed, hugging her abdomen with both arms. She perceived that behind the ardent notes, there was a heart weighed in hidden sorrow... she recognized it in this stranger because she too had a heavy heart.
A strange yell broke the silence, and Namida looked up, rather startled by the outburst and watched in terror as the boy held the guitar above his head, as though he were about to destroy it upon the ground. Her eyes widened, and she put out her hand, as though to stop him, and nearly fell out of the tree again. After regaining her balance, Namida was relieved to find that he had set his guitar back down. What was the matter with him? She could see the defeat in his movements and posture. There was another cry, and she watched as he punched at the air, inevitably causing him to fall back with a great splash into the fountain behind him.
She put a hand to her mouth to hide the ashamed smile that crossed her features. True, she felt sorry for him, but she found his misfortune rather humorous, and she held back the laughter that danced in her stomach. Such a silly, awkward boy. His embarrassment and dissatisfaction were clear to her, and she watched in interest as he surfaced and looked about to make sure he was truly alone. His frustration was endearing in a way, and though her smile slowly faded, the light in her eyes that bordered affection remained.
But, the worst was fast approaching, and she could see it from a mile away. He was climbing out of the fountain, and she could foresee the tragedy sure to follow. “No...” she whispered, as though he could hear her... as though she could stop him. But her own voice frightened her, as it always had. You speak, you die. That was the law. Her heart stopped then as he crushed his own beloved guitar, and she again clapped a hand to her mouth, this time in shock.
Her mouth went dry, and she shifted uncomfortably... should she go to him?
It would have been easy to remain in the high branches of the tree, to remain a quiet, invisible bystander. That was who Namida was... always watching... never got involved. That was safe and secure. She knew people better than they thought, because she would spend such time watching them from a distance, yet never did she initiate contact of any sort.
So why was she climbing down?
It was true... Namida was already halfway to the ground when she heard the boy speak, his voice escalating towards a scream. His anger frightened her, but now her arms and legs were moving independently of her mind and heart, and she dropped to the ground from the lower branches with a muted thump. She stood slowly and nervously, approaching him with her hands bunched together. As she came closer, she got a better look at him, and she saw the ferocity in the blue of his eyes.
“C-can it be mended?”
Her voice was painfully quiet, and she felt her cheeks going red in embarrassment. She shouldn't have approached him at all... she should have stayed in her branches, and in time she would have managed to swallow her regret and guilt.
She lowered herself to the ground beside his guitar then, making quite sure that her face was hidden from him. She didn't want to make eye contact, she didn't want him to look at her... she didn't want to look at him. Instead, she stared down with concern at the tragic instrument.
She reached gently for the guitar, and picked it up with both hands supporting where it had been broken. She was afraid that perhaps he would be angry with her for touching his instrument like that, but she hoped that he wouldn't be.
"You play so beautifully."
Her quiet voice lacked strength but the compliment remained, scarcely hiding the envy she felt for his talent. His music could make the stars weep.
General Info
Name: Calixta – means most beautiful.
Gender: Female
Age: 68 years
Ranking: Espada Royal (princess)
Number: none
Base Type: none - was born an espada
Physical Description:
Calixta is stunningly beautiful, almost flawlessly so. She is of average height, reaching around 5' 6", and her body is slim and slender, toned with lean, flexible muscle. At first glance she seems fragile, as though she could be broken like glass, but this is far from the truth. Her hair is dark and rich like milk chocolate, and it falls down her back in cascades of lovely, full curls. Her skin is pale and soft; it feels new, like she had never experienced time. She has a sweet, often mocking expression on her face, and when she smiles, there is a slight dimple in her left cheek. Her lips are full, but not over powering, and her alluring emerald eyes are deep set and almond shaped; her wide-eyed stare is stunningly intense, capturing all who return her gaze.
Like most Arrancar, she wears all white, often an elegant sleeveless gown with lace trim. When she plans to fight, she wears tight, formfitting pants and a long sleeved shirt with a zipper that is let down part of the way to reveal her hollow hole.
Her hollow hole is located directly in between her collar bones, and her partial mask closely resembles a white masquerade mask, framing and bringing out her eyes in a very attractive, mysterious way.
Personality
Calixta’s most prominent trait is that fact that she is unbelievably vain. She holds great pride in her own physical appearance, and is known to stare at her own reflection for hours, obsessing over herself constantly. She thinks, and often states, that everyone should be beautiful, but of course not as beautiful as her; She feels that those who do not live up these standards should be punished with death, and nothing less will do. Calixta relishes in the affection or compliments of others, often begging to hear several times a day just how beautiful she is.
She does not surround herself in friends, but admirers, as she calls them. For the most part, she feels that the lives of others are fairly dispensable, and tends to only keep people that can benefit her in some way nearby. She can be unintentionally insulting to those around her because she speaks her mind without hesitation, and often, most of her thoughts of a person, good or bad, are announced to them within moments of meeting them, and will even remind people several times of their flaws.
Calixta’s favorite pastime is reading, poetry in particular. She feels that novels are too long to be beautiful, and she wishes to read only words that appeal to her personally. She seeks solitude when she reads to avoid the pressures of her status.
Though Calixta is delicate, her spirit is strong, and she is unafraid of most things (other than death itself) . She is quite the fierce fighter, severely lacking in mercy or forgiveness. She is wrathful and devious, the perfect psychologist. She pinpoints very quickly the weakest points in a person's heart, and she will physically and verbally attack them relentlessly until they are dead, or she is defeated. She toys with her prey as a cat would an ant, never beginning with her strongest attacks, rather she allows her victims to think they have some hope before she destroys them. She loves it most when she sees the light of realization in their eyes, that instant when true fear and hopelessness grips them. Her physical elegance contrasts her love of carnage; she is not a wilting flower, but rather a beautiful predator, drawn constantly to the thrill of the hunt, the taste of victory. She is known for unprovoked and malicious acts of violence within both the arrancar society and the realm of the living. It is said when she is not fawning over herself in a mirror, she is hunting the less significant for her own enjoyment.
Despite this, she very gracefully accepts defeat when she is bested: she is not the type to die trying, or to push herself when all hope is lost. To her, fighting is a game that only she may win; never would she give her life for any cause, no matter how great. She will retreat into the darkest darks of Hueco Mundo the very moment she realizes she cannot win.
As a leader she is incredibly unobservant and neglectful. She does not care for her subjects in the least, and does not see the value of their servitude. She rules herself alone, only paying attention to her fellow Espada when urgency draws her to them, or when she is advised to make some sort of decision. She is easily manipulated in this way, and it is not difficult for others to rule through her as a puppet. She very easily beleives the things she wants to hear; simple flattery earns her trust.
History: (notably shorter than my typical history due to youth and lack of exciting events... NOT laziness)
Calixta's birth was received with much celebration, and though she was the second child of the two royals, she was treated with as much care as Desperado, her older brother. Growing up she hardly spent any time with Desperado or the other Espada so she inherited the less desirable traits of those that do not have any playmates. She never learned to share or treat others with respect.
Her father absolutely adored her, and he often showered her in gifts and praise and expected others to do the same. Calixta soon came to expect affection from others, feeling as though everyone should adore her. As the years passed, Calixta's need for attention developed into a more pronounced problem: she soon felt as though she was the only person of importance in the world. She began to take pleasure in torturing others; she would sit in the deserts of Hueco Mundo and slowly tear apart the weakest of the hollows with her bare fingers, delighting in their screams. Death was a game... her favorite game. She enjoyed the sense of ascendancy it gave her to hold the fate of others in her palms. Arrancar were executed often in those days...Calixta often made up crimes for those that did not flatter her in praise, and her father would kill them under her command. No one mattered to her.
As she grew and developed her powers, she often disappeared into the dessert to hunt hollows. They were stronger than the helpless creatures she killed as a child, yet they all still fell under her power. Killing became an obsession, her most beloved pastime. Her father worried for her safety, but he never argued with her... he only knew how to give her what she wanted. After awhile she acquired a taste for shinigami blood, and she started making her first appearances in the living world. She lured weaker hollows into the streets below to alert the shinigami, and as they battled, she would come down and feast. She'd kill the hollows and shinigami alike. She had no friends or enemies, only food... only her love for carnage. She'd kill slowly, bathing herself in blood.
When Desperado left, seeking a break from the affections that Calixta thrived on, Calixta's father hardly let Calixta out of his sight. No longer would he allow her to leave freely; she was under constant surveillance. With the sudden loss of his only son, her father feared that he would lose Calixta, his darling flower. It was this surveillance that pushed her away. True, she loved the attention, but she could no longer kill as she pleased: in solitude. She hated to be watched as she took apart her prey... those dirty inferior eyes on her constantly...it was enough to make her sick. It was one thing to be gazed upon in reverence, but it was another to be forced to share her truest of loves with others.
So, one night, Calixta left. She ran far and long from the tall white towers that held her prisoner, and her father was never able to catch her. In anger, he destroyed his palace, slaughtering every arrancar that stood against him until finally, his own wife, the beautiful and quiet queen, murdered him. She abandoned Las Noches after this, and for years, the lonely white halls remained neglected.
In time, Desperado did return, followed by Calixta.
She had been living in the vast desert of hueco mundo, feeding on the shinigami and stronger hollow as she traveled to the living world. She grew immensely in power during this time, and was feared throughout Hueco Mundo as a bloodthirsty killer... the last of the known Royals. With the return of her brother however, a new name echoed on the wind and Calixta shuddered at the sound: "Desperado..."
Feeling her fame compromised, Calixta returned to Las Noches as well to find her parents gone. She did not grieve for her father, though she grew spiteful. Without him around to shower her in affection, Calixta grew bored and unhappy. There was little joy for her under the rule of Desperado, and she soon began to plot his death. If she had the crown, she would be recognized as the most powerful espada, and therefore, she would be feared and loved by all. However, her plans failed when he yet again disappeared without a trace, and Calixta claimed the crown.
Additional Info: Calixta has a distinct love of birds, and will not kill any bird -type hollow because they are beautiful to her. She is currently searching for a small one to keep as a pet.
Abilities (pre resurrecction ):
- The Phoenix's Touch:: When Calixta makes contact with her opponent by physically touching them, she drains their spirit power and claims it as her own at an incredible rate. She can use this to rejuvenate herself, or simply increase her own power level temporarily. Contact has to be direct (skin on skin) and is made by her hands.
The effect this power has on her opponent differs based on their class level and only after repeated or long periods of contact will the given effects take place.
(this is the very most damage her power can cause on any given induvidual)
[Class 1] - She can cause opponents of this level to lose consciousness
[Class 2] - She can cause temporary paralysis
[Class 3] - Her opponent becomes severely dizzy, disoriented, and experiences intense pain
[Class 4] - Her opponent becomes extremely weak and heavy feeling. Is also subject to minor pain
[Class 5] - Her opponent experiences minor fatigue
[Class 6] - Her opponent feels a draining sensation
[Class 7] - Little to no effect
Zanpakuto
General:
Name: Haruto
Appearance: A katana with a pearly white blade that glistens in distinct luminousity. Feathers decorate the guard.
Resurrecctión
Armor/ Appearance: After activating Resurrecctión, hundreds of bone-like feathers sprout around the sides of her mask, creating a stunningly powerful frame of her face, much like a chieftain's headdress. These feathers sprout also out of her back and shoulders, and form a noticeable abundance on her left shoulder as though it were trying to form a single wing. These feathers are her second armor, a temporarily disposable extra layer of protection
A white bird beak forms also at the bottom of her mask fragment, and protrudes from her face, which again adds to the focus on her eyes.
She wields her zanpakutou also in this form, and it transforms to the shape of a giant falchion.
Abilities:
- She retains The Phoenix's Touch exactly as it was in Pre-resurrecctión
- Leech:: Calixta can shed and control her layer of armor feathers and manipulate them in such a way that they latch onto her opponent. Similar to the concept of The Phoenix's Touch, these feathers sap the spirit force of her opponents, and will continue to leech off her opponent's powers until they either fill and return to Calixta, or are successfully knocked away somehow. Although these feathers are easily avoided for those with wind-based Zanpakutos or well-developed shumpo, they are nearly impossible to remove, and must be literally plucked individually from the skin, which causes a great deal of pain.
After Calixta's feathers return, they transfer the absorbed spirit power into her or a teammate of her own choosing. She gives the spirit power to them by attaching the feathers to them instead of her.
This acquired power can be used to replenish spent energy, provide a temporary boost of power, or even heal minor wounds.
[Drawback] Her back and shoulders become extremely vulnerable while she does this
-----------------------------------------------
The Below attacks depend on how much soul power Calixta collects. She cannot perform these without first collecting a certain amount
___________________________ - White Fire::: Calixta's feathers ignite in white flames like hundreds of little candles. Theses fires are extremely intense, and can cause minor burns from a little less than a foot away. The damage they cause increases with closer proximity. The light they emit is also very intense, and if they are looked into directly for more than three seconds from a short distance, they can cause temporarily impaired vision (blurring)
After the fires have burned for a single post, they explode, causing minor to serious damage in a 2 foot radius.
[Drawback] she cannot sap energy in the post following this attack: it takes time to replicate the lost feathers
[Cost] 2 posts worth of collecting energy - 1 post for the attack, 1 post for feather regeneration - Rise from the ashes:: Calixta's body disintegrates into thousands of her armor feathers, and reassembles in the form of a giant white phoenix. In this form, she cannot sap power, but she can direct the feathers any way she likes, they take on a razor edge quality, and can be used to attack her opponents as she manipulates them. She cannot take damage in this form, as she is made only of her armor.
[Cost] 5 posts of saving energy - 1 post of use
Hollow Techniques
Bala :: The technique hardens the user's spiritual pressure and fires it like a bullet from their fist. Though weaker than a cero blast, it moves about twenty times faster
[Arrancar only]
Cero:: High-powered energy blasts that can be fired from various body parts, such as mouth, tongue, hand or fingers
[Menos, Arrancar, & Vizard only]
Garganta:: It literally tears open the dimensional fabric separating the worlds, revealing a tunnel of whirling, torrential energy that must be focused and solidified to create a discernible pathway
[All hollow possess this ability, though the appearance of the ability differs according to a hollow's strength]
Hierro:: Hardened skin caused by the compression of spirit power. This allows Arrancar to block released Zanpakuto bare-handed, but is not impenetrable. Stronger Arrancar possess stronger skin.
[Arrancar Only]
Negacion:: A field that surrounds a target and pulls them towards the caster. This is often used to rescue or protect fellow Hollow
[Menos class and Arrancar only]
Pesquisa:: The ability to sense and track spiritual power
[All hollows may possess this, though the strength of this ability depends on the strength of the user]
Sonido:: Allows the user to travel at incredibly high speeds for short distances, similar to flash step.
[Arrancar only]
Additional
Other Characters:
Masaru - 6th Division Captain
Namida - Academy Student
Roleplay Sample: ((A post made on this site with my character Namida))
She nearly fell out of the tree in her surprise. The world rushed and tumbled around her, and she could feel herself tumbling with it... legs slipping! Her panicked mind raced and with a grunt of effort she managed to save herself, wrapping her arms about the branch at the last second. The rest of her body halted in the air, and the weight yanked painfully on her thin arms. She fought the urge to cry out and she shifted her grip... she could already feel her fingers slipping...
The ground spun under her dangling body and her eyes widened in horror as she realized just how high up she really was. A great lump formed in the back of her dry throat as shivers of paralyzing fear gripped her... don't fall asleep... The strength was already draining from her arms and she fumbled weakly to pull herself upright, a pained grimace breaking out on her pale face as the bark bit at her skin. A struggle that lasted only a few short seconds felt like an agonizing eternity, but with a final kick of her feet off the trunk, Namida found herself pulled back to her previous perch.
With a relieved sigh, she collapsed on the branch, her arms and legs dangling on either side. She blinked slowly and stared blankly, wondering feebly why she woke up in such a strange place... it happened so often... She bit her bottom lip and wiped the tears out of the corner of her eye with a reddened hand. She was always blacking out and waking up in places she didn't expect, and it both frustrated and terrified her. She never spoke of this to another person, leaving the weight of her problems and fears resting solely on her own shoulders and it left her often feeling worn down. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than this problem she had, and all too often the accusing voice in her head would say with a cruel sneer, "You really are crazy... you know that right?"
Sometimes she wondered if the voice was right. What if she really was crazy?
She fought back her impulse to cry. She could feel it in her stomach... a sick, heavy feeling. Her loneliness consumed her entirely at times like this, and she longed for companionship. It was her own fault that she was alone... her fault. She pushed others away. She acted mean, acted like she didn't care about anyone or anything... she built great big thick walls around her injured heart and dared others to attempt to break them down. No one ever did. She blinked back the inevitable tears and her sight blurred as they welled up and rolled down, dripping from her cheek to the ground below. It was such a long way for a tear to fall. She hated herself. She really did. Was she truly so weak that all she could think to do was cry? She forced her irregular breathing to calm, and she sat up, putting her hands again to her eyes.
She thought finally of Peter, that boy who haunted her dreams. She wanted to sink into the pages of the book, and live forever with the lost boys... and Neverland... Neverland would make her forget. The great island in the sky where dreams drifted in the whispers of children, and rained fairy dust. That's where she wanted to be... she wanted Neverland to work its potent magic on her heart and mind, and wipe her clean. She wanted to be rid of those memories from so long ago. She despised her past self. Even in life, she had hated the person she had become. She once told her mother that she wished she never met that man who destroyed her in his parting, the man she had adopted as a father. Her mother berated her for saying such a wicked thing, but Namida's mind was not swayed... she wanted to forget it all.
Just then, music drifted in the distance like leaves in the wind, and her melancholy thoughts were temporarily silenced. She stared forward, leaning meticulously on the edge of the tree branch. Who was that?
The music swelled and entranced her, it's haunting and hypnotic melody speaking to her heart in a raw fervent voice that sent shivers down her spine. Envy and admiration filled her gaze as she stared shamelessly at the boy responsible. There was something so tragic and so beautiful about his playing that Namida felt a pang in her chest... she needed to be closer. She couldn't move or breathe. She hadn't felt this way in a long time, and regret flooded her heart as she realized she would never know this person who could play with such rhapsody.
As suddenly as it began, the music died with one last impassioned note echoing in the placid courtyard, and Namida realized that the music truly had come from his heart... it was all his, and it was unique from anything she ever had or would hear; it was like a flower in the desert that bloomed at sunrise in a color never before seen by human eyes... She swallowed, hugging her abdomen with both arms. She perceived that behind the ardent notes, there was a heart weighed in hidden sorrow... she recognized it in this stranger because she too had a heavy heart.
A strange yell broke the silence, and Namida looked up, rather startled by the outburst and watched in terror as the boy held the guitar above his head, as though he were about to destroy it upon the ground. Her eyes widened, and she put out her hand, as though to stop him, and nearly fell out of the tree again. After regaining her balance, Namida was relieved to find that he had set his guitar back down. What was the matter with him? She could see the defeat in his movements and posture. There was another cry, and she watched as he punched at the air, inevitably causing him to fall back with a great splash into the fountain behind him.
She put a hand to her mouth to hide the ashamed smile that crossed her features. True, she felt sorry for him, but she found his misfortune rather humorous, and she held back the laughter that danced in her stomach. Such a silly, awkward boy. His embarrassment and dissatisfaction were clear to her, and she watched in interest as he surfaced and looked about to make sure he was truly alone. His frustration was endearing in a way, and though her smile slowly faded, the light in her eyes that bordered affection remained.
But, the worst was fast approaching, and she could see it from a mile away. He was climbing out of the fountain, and she could foresee the tragedy sure to follow. “No...” she whispered, as though he could hear her... as though she could stop him. But her own voice frightened her, as it always had. You speak, you die. That was the law. Her heart stopped then as he crushed his own beloved guitar, and she again clapped a hand to her mouth, this time in shock.
Her mouth went dry, and she shifted uncomfortably... should she go to him?
It would have been easy to remain in the high branches of the tree, to remain a quiet, invisible bystander. That was who Namida was... always watching... never got involved. That was safe and secure. She knew people better than they thought, because she would spend such time watching them from a distance, yet never did she initiate contact of any sort.
So why was she climbing down?
It was true... Namida was already halfway to the ground when she heard the boy speak, his voice escalating towards a scream. His anger frightened her, but now her arms and legs were moving independently of her mind and heart, and she dropped to the ground from the lower branches with a muted thump. She stood slowly and nervously, approaching him with her hands bunched together. As she came closer, she got a better look at him, and she saw the ferocity in the blue of his eyes.
“C-can it be mended?”
Her voice was painfully quiet, and she felt her cheeks going red in embarrassment. She shouldn't have approached him at all... she should have stayed in her branches, and in time she would have managed to swallow her regret and guilt.
She lowered herself to the ground beside his guitar then, making quite sure that her face was hidden from him. She didn't want to make eye contact, she didn't want him to look at her... she didn't want to look at him. Instead, she stared down with concern at the tragic instrument.
She reached gently for the guitar, and picked it up with both hands supporting where it had been broken. She was afraid that perhaps he would be angry with her for touching his instrument like that, but she hoped that he wouldn't be.
"You play so beautifully."
Her quiet voice lacked strength but the compliment remained, scarcely hiding the envy she felt for his talent. His music could make the stars weep.
.... 