JULY 9, 2014.
Post by Deleted on Jan 13, 2014 10:58:00 GMT -5
GATO
| AGE 128 APPARENT AGE YOUNG ADULT GENDER MALE | RACE ARRANCAR ALLEGIANCE OCTAVA FRACCION DIFFICULTY HARD |
appearance
Some are known to exchange a human experience for one bestial - of greater power; but for Gato, the choice haboured no downside for the likes of him. This flux of ferret and house-cat, ostensibly, proves to be a form he could not be any happier about. It mimics his original to a degree, after all. This one, however, moves fleetly both in a bipedal or quadrupedal manner. He stands an approximate fifty-one inches and is clad in a hide of white, gray, and light brown; the latter of which starts at his forehead, travels overtop his head and down the back of his long neck to conclude in a star-like pattern at about its base.
A well-proportioned hole sits eclipsed within the upper-portion of his gray underbelly pattern, which appears to be an elongated oval when viewed in its entirety. The same gray is found at the ends of his arms, feet, and tail. White, crisscrossing fabric forms the majority of his clothing that obscures portions of his upper and lower body. The only other piece, seemingly a red hat with some of his flaccid, head-pound protrusions within it, is actually remnants of his mask. Its elasticity, its textile material is as great an oddity as he is. A yellow, cat-like smily face sits in the center of its front. Gato's pupils are elongated, plastered against a backdrop of pale yellow in place of a typical white.
A well-proportioned hole sits eclipsed within the upper-portion of his gray underbelly pattern, which appears to be an elongated oval when viewed in its entirety. The same gray is found at the ends of his arms, feet, and tail. White, crisscrossing fabric forms the majority of his clothing that obscures portions of his upper and lower body. The only other piece, seemingly a red hat with some of his flaccid, head-pound protrusions within it, is actually remnants of his mask. Its elasticity, its textile material is as great an oddity as he is. A yellow, cat-like smily face sits in the center of its front. Gato's pupils are elongated, plastered against a backdrop of pale yellow in place of a typical white.
personality
Gato wields an ostensibly jaded disposition. Though, there is nothing better than drawing him out of such a state than that perverse nature of his. Human females are a delicious treat to his eyes as well as other things. ( am I right? *obnoxious joke followed by obnoxious arm jab* ) His core is comprised of an expected, stereotypical curiosity. It leads to the habit of being too prying, which also leads to his various, shameless acts and perversions. Who would have thought the latter possessed such innocent roots?
A certain captiousness, fueled like premium gas by his looming cynicism and periodically embellished with his delicious, but insalubrious sarcasm, will no doubt lead him into trouble. Gato can not help but pass judgment upon the unfavourable or irksome conduct of others. It is questionable whether or not such thoughts will be made verbal, but one may trust that they burble somewhere within the murky depths of his ostensibly acrimonious being. His visage will certainly display the summary of his thoughts, however, via expression he is simply unable to conceal; but fight he will through, most likely, fractured, jumbled words to craft a lie to save himself from unholy retribution.
You see, courage is not his strong suit - well, at least definitely not while facing his equals or superiors. Gato is an individual who generally sees the glass half empty. He is easily definable as pessimistic, sometimes humorously so. At the very least, he is a perceptive individual,. The keeness in discernment he brandishes proves him able to generally see through the faux fronts individuals so often attempt to erect like drapery to obscure their true intentions and thoughts. He proves to be an intuitive and instinctual being, finding himself acting upon intuition rather than strictly reasoning or observation. Such a trait should breed no surprise for buried within his that felid form lies the memories of his patrimonial, eldritch intuition. It can make him rather impulsive, even making him a target for marketers who prey upon the impulsive buyer. How frightening.
A certain captiousness, fueled like premium gas by his looming cynicism and periodically embellished with his delicious, but insalubrious sarcasm, will no doubt lead him into trouble. Gato can not help but pass judgment upon the unfavourable or irksome conduct of others. It is questionable whether or not such thoughts will be made verbal, but one may trust that they burble somewhere within the murky depths of his ostensibly acrimonious being. His visage will certainly display the summary of his thoughts, however, via expression he is simply unable to conceal; but fight he will through, most likely, fractured, jumbled words to craft a lie to save himself from unholy retribution.
You see, courage is not his strong suit - well, at least definitely not while facing his equals or superiors. Gato is an individual who generally sees the glass half empty. He is easily definable as pessimistic, sometimes humorously so. At the very least, he is a perceptive individual,. The keeness in discernment he brandishes proves him able to generally see through the faux fronts individuals so often attempt to erect like drapery to obscure their true intentions and thoughts. He proves to be an intuitive and instinctual being, finding himself acting upon intuition rather than strictly reasoning or observation. Such a trait should breed no surprise for buried within his that felid form lies the memories of his patrimonial, eldritch intuition. It can make him rather impulsive, even making him a target for marketers who prey upon the impulsive buyer. How frightening.
history
Kobayashi Akiko.
A beauteous female youth who's temporal strides had recently carried her out of adolescence. Long hair of an earthy chestnut and eyes of a seemingly otherworldly emerald, both names, sur and given, suited her so.
She possessed but one true admirer; one that had long-since fallen head over heels for her. His eyes could never hope to imbibe her voluptuous form in its entirety. No. It could only digest it in fractured durations of staring, bite-sized lengths where his desirous eyes lingered on selective, beguiling portions. He was no stalker despite there being little more than a thin line separating him from being just that; especially since some of the time, he literally stalked her. What form did that thin like take? It took the form of a differentiating species.
He was her cat.
Oh, and this took place quite some time ago; over a century, to be exact.
He had a coat of white fur, spots of both gray and brown - a typical cat; but, by no means could this be a regular cat - but it was. It was a regular cat until Kobayashi Akiko became his owner. There was something special about the girl, something unascertainable. Just being within that radiant aura of hers was enough to instill something foreign within him. Feelings he never had, thoughts he never had, a sentiency he had never wished for, but desired to never lose as long as his dear owner could be perceived by it. She was fated to never gain awareness of her unconscious leaking of reiatsu.
You probably have an idea of where I'm going with this story and likely some questions as well. It's a shame, I cannot detail the byproduct of that girl's higher-than-average spiritual power; but somehow, it proved capable of acting as a catalyst to this peculiar flux of drollery and tragedy. Let us get into the thick of it.
There existed a certain Hollow; one not of great strength, but with a behaviour not only strange, but effective. It was often referred to as The Sniper, known to be incredibly elusive. Its ventures into the mortal realm were short-lived. The phantasmal beast made a habit of making quick contact with a target, which resulted in a red-hued target manifesting upon the victim's front or back. Then it would retreat, leaving them confused, overwhelmed. It was exactly what Akiko was when she returned home one day. The shift in her disposition, while subtle, glared like the high-noon sun.
Catching a glimpse of her exposed backside was a sight more perturbing than anything else, but what could a cat do? He did not even understand what it was he was seeing. The swiftness her predator acted with made its targets difficult to protect for the resident shinigami. Surely if it touted genuine threat, they might have moved to defeat it. But at that time, they had not. Its appearance was infrequent enough to not provoke it to be taken seriously.
The reasoning for its name became apparent the day after for during the young woman's return home, she was taken between the beast's jowls after an abrupt reappearance. That time, her fateful cat, previously lounging about outside, caught sight of it. First, he could only stare toward a species of beast he could not even fathom. Then, he grew ireful. The emotion grew so intense, he could no longer hear the coalesced screams of every instinct-laden fiber of his body crying out to not approach that hollow. But he did, attacked it even, and as if to rid himself of a pesky mosquito, laid waste to his little quadrupedal body; but not after swallowing it whole. The cat was bestowed the same fate as his owner.
Well, not quite.
She harboured a respectable strength of spirit, but not of mentality, of will. After the rending of her flesh, the loss of her life, her soul was swallowed, dissolved, lost fleetly to the murky depths within the spectral beast. The cat was there in spirit. The cat even felt her slip away never to emerge again. That realization made him feel hollow, stunned, but then angry. Such anger; one that shone with the light of a touch that touted the flame of perdition itself. Ultimately and in an almost comedic twist of fate, it would be he, the once domesticated house cat, who would completely and utterly dominate whatever souls resided within that heartless beast.
And angry he stayed - for a very long time.
Understanding an instinctual nature was - well, second nature to the likes of him. He burned with ire and did what his newfound body thirsted for. Other hollow. Their exclusive consumption became his afterlife's sole pursuit. An impossibility it would have been to receive from him an estimation of just how long he'd riled in wrath's fervid embrace. Time became immeasurable, irrelevant even; but as it stretched on, his frustrations waned, slipped away until his form had twisted into a nightmarish variation of his living original. His body was clad in a sleak, pliable armour, amount to nothing unexpected of an Adjuchas.
Curious. When he'd truly calmed down, albeit rot with regret as so many other corrupt spirits were, it was then did he lay eyes upon a beauteous female youth who's temporal strides had recently carried her out of adolescence. Her eye colour was wrong, her hair colour was wrong as well and there was no possibility what was once within him had somehow manifested without. Even so, one who reminded him so much of Kobayashi Akiko ostensibly presented herself to him one fateful day the two just happened upon each other. The ghostly feline could not believe his eyes, evidenced by his falling into a state of surprise-induced paralysis. No doubt was his stun obvious to her. She had but one thing to say to the likes of him.
"Cub. Remove your mask and be my fraccion."
A beauteous female youth who's temporal strides had recently carried her out of adolescence. Long hair of an earthy chestnut and eyes of a seemingly otherworldly emerald, both names, sur and given, suited her so.
She possessed but one true admirer; one that had long-since fallen head over heels for her. His eyes could never hope to imbibe her voluptuous form in its entirety. No. It could only digest it in fractured durations of staring, bite-sized lengths where his desirous eyes lingered on selective, beguiling portions. He was no stalker despite there being little more than a thin line separating him from being just that; especially since some of the time, he literally stalked her. What form did that thin like take? It took the form of a differentiating species.
He was her cat.
Oh, and this took place quite some time ago; over a century, to be exact.
He had a coat of white fur, spots of both gray and brown - a typical cat; but, by no means could this be a regular cat - but it was. It was a regular cat until Kobayashi Akiko became his owner. There was something special about the girl, something unascertainable. Just being within that radiant aura of hers was enough to instill something foreign within him. Feelings he never had, thoughts he never had, a sentiency he had never wished for, but desired to never lose as long as his dear owner could be perceived by it. She was fated to never gain awareness of her unconscious leaking of reiatsu.
You probably have an idea of where I'm going with this story and likely some questions as well. It's a shame, I cannot detail the byproduct of that girl's higher-than-average spiritual power; but somehow, it proved capable of acting as a catalyst to this peculiar flux of drollery and tragedy. Let us get into the thick of it.
There existed a certain Hollow; one not of great strength, but with a behaviour not only strange, but effective. It was often referred to as The Sniper, known to be incredibly elusive. Its ventures into the mortal realm were short-lived. The phantasmal beast made a habit of making quick contact with a target, which resulted in a red-hued target manifesting upon the victim's front or back. Then it would retreat, leaving them confused, overwhelmed. It was exactly what Akiko was when she returned home one day. The shift in her disposition, while subtle, glared like the high-noon sun.
Catching a glimpse of her exposed backside was a sight more perturbing than anything else, but what could a cat do? He did not even understand what it was he was seeing. The swiftness her predator acted with made its targets difficult to protect for the resident shinigami. Surely if it touted genuine threat, they might have moved to defeat it. But at that time, they had not. Its appearance was infrequent enough to not provoke it to be taken seriously.
The reasoning for its name became apparent the day after for during the young woman's return home, she was taken between the beast's jowls after an abrupt reappearance. That time, her fateful cat, previously lounging about outside, caught sight of it. First, he could only stare toward a species of beast he could not even fathom. Then, he grew ireful. The emotion grew so intense, he could no longer hear the coalesced screams of every instinct-laden fiber of his body crying out to not approach that hollow. But he did, attacked it even, and as if to rid himself of a pesky mosquito, laid waste to his little quadrupedal body; but not after swallowing it whole. The cat was bestowed the same fate as his owner.
Well, not quite.
She harboured a respectable strength of spirit, but not of mentality, of will. After the rending of her flesh, the loss of her life, her soul was swallowed, dissolved, lost fleetly to the murky depths within the spectral beast. The cat was there in spirit. The cat even felt her slip away never to emerge again. That realization made him feel hollow, stunned, but then angry. Such anger; one that shone with the light of a touch that touted the flame of perdition itself. Ultimately and in an almost comedic twist of fate, it would be he, the once domesticated house cat, who would completely and utterly dominate whatever souls resided within that heartless beast.
And angry he stayed - for a very long time.
Understanding an instinctual nature was - well, second nature to the likes of him. He burned with ire and did what his newfound body thirsted for. Other hollow. Their exclusive consumption became his afterlife's sole pursuit. An impossibility it would have been to receive from him an estimation of just how long he'd riled in wrath's fervid embrace. Time became immeasurable, irrelevant even; but as it stretched on, his frustrations waned, slipped away until his form had twisted into a nightmarish variation of his living original. His body was clad in a sleak, pliable armour, amount to nothing unexpected of an Adjuchas.
Curious. When he'd truly calmed down, albeit rot with regret as so many other corrupt spirits were, it was then did he lay eyes upon a beauteous female youth who's temporal strides had recently carried her out of adolescence. Her eye colour was wrong, her hair colour was wrong as well and there was no possibility what was once within him had somehow manifested without. Even so, one who reminded him so much of Kobayashi Akiko ostensibly presented herself to him one fateful day the two just happened upon each other. The ghostly feline could not believe his eyes, evidenced by his falling into a state of surprise-induced paralysis. No doubt was his stun obvious to her. She had but one thing to say to the likes of him.
"Cub. Remove your mask and be my fraccion."
TSUKAI [b]SPACE DANDY[/b] [i]meow[/i] gato
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS
