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 Urufu Azathoth

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Urufu
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PostSubject: Urufu Azathoth   18/03/11, 03:16 pm

    HUMAN
    -------------------------------------
    SPECS

    Name//
    Urufu Azathoth
    Age// 17
    Gender// Male
    Appearance// Urufu usually wears a white cloak with two blood red crosses on either side of his body. He has blond hair, is roughly 5'7, and weighs 160 pounds. He has a long scar running up from his left elbow to his shoulder. His fingernails are longer then average, and resemble claws, as well do his toenails, which are clearly visible because he wears no shoes. The tips and outlines of both are stained with blood permanently. The bottom of his black cargo pants are frayed, as well as the cuffs of his sleeves. He wears a pure silver cross on a necklace, from his days with the Vatican. Old habits die hard.

    His muscles, though not very large, are incredibly dense, giving him a lean appearance. Those not used to seeing someone like that would instantly deem him weak, right before a powerful punch from the "weak" arms of the "weak" boy broke their face. His clearly Caucasian skin makes him stand out in Japan, though not by much. What truly makes him stand out is his Cloak, as stated earlier. His blond hair is slightly long, but stands in chaotic, lazy spikes that seem to fall where they please, slightly resembling Cloud Strife, minus the large forespike. He has violet eyes, a trait slightly odd. When he was born, they were a soft blue, but over time, as his eating habits changed, so did his eye color. After all, red and blue make purple.

    Attached to each hip is a short sword. These swords, titled 'Phobos' and 'Deimos', were crafted from melted down silver that Urufu had stolen with the assistance of an arrancar from the Karakura Museum. They are kept hidden in his long cloak's hips, a ribbon sewn into the fabric to allow them to hang casually without getting in his way. Each blade is roughly two feet long with a three inch width. The hilt is simple for one hand without a proper hand guard, wrapped tightly in leather.

    Urufu:
     

    Swords:
     

    Personality// Positive Traits

    • Charisma: Almost to the point of being manipulative, Urufu has a very charismatic personality. As the Alpha of his pack, his charisma and leadership skills have an EX in ranking (typemoon joke, if you don’t get it, don’t worry about it). Possessing a silver tongue and exuding confidence, some people just can’t help to listen to Urufu’s honey words.
    • Confident: Stated before, Urufu’s confidence is actually quite high. Occasionally, the line between confidence and outright conceited narcissism is passed, but for the most part, Urufu usually keeps it in check. Believing that what he does and how he does it to be correct in all of his decisions, this coupled with his charisma gives Urufu the very air of a natural leader.
    • Aggressive: While some would consider this a negative trait, Urufu’s aggressiveness for battle and primal bloodlust transfers over to his everyday actions. Holding a great passion for his decisions, Urufu will fight for what he wants with the utmost and absolute certainty of vindication. If Urufu wants something, Urufu will get it.
    • Pack-Orientated: As a leader, Urufu needs a pack. When he has attained a family or pack, his focus remains stone cold on them. Urufu’s pack is everything, and he will do everything in his abysmal power to make sure they are content and happy.
    • Durable: Despite his ruined past and atrocious lifestyle, Urufu is 100% his own being. He will never succumb to any form of persuasion or despair simply because someone wants him to. He will look at any situation that presents itself to him and think “Oh. Solutions are easy.” And get to work fixing it. Emotional problems do not present themselves to Urufu. Urufu prevents himself to emotional problems.


    Negative Traits

    • Apathetic: Because Urufu feeds on all forms of being, Murder and destruction of another sentient being mean very little to him. Innocent or Guilty matters not to one whom only sees you as food.
    • Split: Suffering from split personalities, Urufu occasionally relapses into one of his alternate personas. Having reined them in for the most part, this rarely happens. When it does, Urufu doesn’t change much. His aggression gets a 10 and his destruction gains a 15.
    • Bloodthirsty: Due to his feeding habits and Apathy combined, Urufu is positively obsessed with Blood. The taste of it is simply orgasmic, and the feeling that it produces as it runs down his throat will illicit feeling of absolute ecstasy in his body. Without blood, Urufu is not capable of survival, but even besides this reason, he has naturally grown to love blood more than anything.
    • Urufu's largest habit is starting fights, and going through with them. His anger is normally layered close to the surface, and can be set alight with the merest mention of the "V" word. When Urufu starts a fight, he normally tends to finish it. Prone to anger and quick to kill, Urufu's morals are shot.
    • Biased: Bearing an intense hatred for Humans and Shinigami, Urufu will usually be pretty biased towards them in the beginning. If they prove themselves to him as useful and actually a fairly decent person, he will get over it. If not, Urufu will have a good meal. Either way, win-win.
    • Violent: Urufu likes to break things to get his way. ‘Nuff said.


    TMI?: The main flaw Urufu has is his eating habit. Urufu can only survive on blood (his body having adapted to suit this naturally), resulting in 'regular' food and water being dispelled rather violently in the form of vomit. Because of this, Urufu Azathoth is regularly deemed a modern day vampire, Dracula, or straight-up Monster. That has set Urufu against the world, and if anyone even so mentions the “V” or “D” word, he will go quite batshit.

    Urufu is an intelligent, playful being. He loves to have fun, but he knows when to be serious, and not take everything for granted. During battle, he usually uses a Slice-First, Think-about-the-consequences-later attitude, though that doesn't mean he doesn't know how. He is very resourceful, and loves Nature.

    If he can't protect those he loves, he feels completely useless, and will train harder every chance he gets to find a way to protect them. Because of his Cannabilistic/Vampiric ways, however, he doesn't have many people whom are close to him, as he gives off a slightly Horrifying Aura. He is your classic White Knight. Hell-bent on protecting everything and all, he will let nothing stand in his way. Incredibly selfless, it is his major downfall. If one knows him, even through reputation, it would be incredibly easy to exploit this.

    Not a lot of people make the requirements to becoming his friends, however. Urufu is slightly demented in the fact that he hates nearly everyone. He has been shown that people are selfish, ignorant, obnoxious, etc, and views them as food more then anything else. Due to his ability, the only thing he can consume for sustenance is blood. Don't let that fool you though, he hates being called a Vampire. It generates an anger within him that cannot be tamed.

    Rejecting the Vatican life, he chose the path of the Wiccan. The nature witch, as some may call them. Just because he hates people, doesn't mean he hates everything. He has a vast love for nature and all of it's inhabitants. He is at peace the most when he is in the forest, or something woodsy, surrounded by his beasty brotherin. His Zodiac Sign is Dog, his Astrology sign is Aries, and his favorite color is white. He holds it in high regards, because it resembles both a purity, something unscathed by anything else. Also, it can show a white hot, inner rage, something he himself holds.

    Loyalties// Himself and his pack.

    -------------------------------------
    Crystallization

    Crystallization//
    Hollow Crystallization
    Manifestation// Urufu possesses the ability to produce vast amounts of a black liquid that is similar in composition to condensed reiryoka. This reiryoka liquid is actually an alchemized version of Hollow Blood and comes from Vereor. It is then able to Alchemy is actually a very close description to Urufu’s true abilities. By drinking the blood of his opponent or allies, Urufu is able to alchemize the reiatsu and blood into the abilities they possess. The knowledge of these abilities and how to use them are strictly instinct and muscle memory. Any strategies must be figured out on his own. After establishing how to use this ability, Urufu named it “Retribution”.

    Retribution:
     

    By using Retribution, Urufu has the innate ability to spiritualize himself. By consuming a portion of the hollow blood he produces, he is capable of alchemizing his flesh into reishi and become a spirit. His soul/spiritual chain and body actually fuse together during this process, and he is just as vulnerable as a spirit as every other spirit. By using this process, he is capable of entering Hueco Mundo, etc. As a byproduct, he can also do this to become invisible to humans, as long as they aren’t spiritually aware.


    Perfect Crystallization

    Crystallization:
    What type of perfect crystallization do you possess?
    Manifestation:: What do you look like when using your abilities? How do they change? What do you gain? etc. 3 paragraph minimum.


    -------------------------------------
    FLASHBACK

    Background//
    The Azathoth family was quite prestigious in the Vatican, despite their reputation for being secret Satanists and delving into the black arts of dark magic. The rumours for black magic began when the great-grandfather of Urufu was found in his prime carrying a leather bound book that was wrapped in black chains by a Cardinal of the Pope. Judging by the human-ish face on the cover that was forever found in a scream of agony, it was easily questioned as a spell book for black magicks. It was most certainly not the bible, at any rate. Oddly enough, the owner of the book did not have the key, so the book could never be opened. Because of this, the book was never taken away and left in the possession of the Azathoth clan. Despite their honest and hardworking ways, that tag has never quite left the Azathoth family. It didn’t help that the Azathoth family inherited Hi-Spec, and were born with the ability to see spirits and other unworldly beings.
    Born into the family as the seventh son, Sylver and his father shared a closer bond then most families and siblings. This is probably because they were both seventh sons, and that gave them the most common ground. As an infant, the father, Simon, was the only one whom could stop the crying and hush whom is now known as Urufu. Although he has a Japanese name now, he was once known affectionately as Sylver. This was short for Sylvester, but actually became ironic when Sylver grew to have an obsession with the precious metal of the same name (silver).
    Growing up, Sylver and Simon were inseparable. Every time Simon left the family's room, Sylver was tagging along. If Sylver was gone and Simon was due somewhere, his mother (Terra) knew where he was. There was never any doubt. Simon and Sylver would never be in two separate locations. It was impossible. For the first four years of his life, Sylver remained in Simon and Terra's room regarding sleeping arrangements. The only reason he had to give it up was because his mother felt he needed to grow up. When his older brother Harold left the family to become a Priest and live as an apprentice, Sylver took over his room.
    Unfortunately, the days that Sylver was allowed to tag along with his father to work were drawing to a close. At five years old, Sylver was too big to go with him to important meetings regarding the church. Simon was just too important to let a toddler sully his image. This was not the decision of the father, but the decision of the church. Sadly, when Sylver was putting on his coat to accompany his father on a fateful day, his father had to tell Sylver to stay home. Shocked at first, Sylver couldn't believe what had happened. His father was denying him this right that he had had since he was born? Impossible. Nonetheless, that day, Sylver stayed home with his mother and siblings.
    He learned things on that day that shocked him. Three years older and four years more mischievous, one of Sylver's sisters took him into their parents room. Sliding the mattress off of the bed stand, she rummaged in a compartment that Sylver didn't even know existed. Pulling out a large, leather bound book that was held together tightly by black chains, she laughed at Sylver's shocked face. What was this book? This was something new. "Shall I tell you a story?" She asked him, sliding the mattress back onto the bed and motioning for him to sit beside her. Joining her, Sylver was soon told about their family's dark past.
    The only reason that she even knew about the book was because she had watched their grandfather give it to their father two years ago. They had thought she was asleep. She wasn't. With a smile, she passed it to Sylver. Taking it in clumsy hands, the black chains were cold to his touch, but the leather of the book was warm. In fact, it was almost hot. It seemed to pulse in his hands with an abysmal heartbeat. It was creepy. He didn't like it. Giving it back, Sylver left the room silently. He didn't talk to his sister much after that day, and avoided her eyes for nearly a week.
    Since that day, Sylver began spending less and less time with his father. Every day, he saw his father come home angry, complaining about his job. Because Sylver was no longer with him, his supervisors finally started treating him like a monster again. After all, the Azathoth family were spawned straight from hell. Each and every day brought new horrors to the Azathoth family. Each and every day made Sylver begin to hate the church more and more for what they did. First they separated him and his father. Then they abused his father with insults and ridicule. The straw that broke the camel's back, however, was when he got demoted simply because of his heritage.

    Sylver hated the church more than anything. He began refusing to attend his church classes. Soon after that, he began refusing to attend his regular classes. By the time he was 11 years old, he had his own reputation as a troublemaker. He was mischievous, un-adhering to society's rules and laws. By the time he was 11 years old, he was the only child left in his family that remained with his parents. By the time he was 11 years old, he was the last Azathoth child even at the church.
    Why had he remained at the church? There were numerous excuses and ways for him to leave. He could have applied at a public school and been transferred from the Vatican into public Rome. His mother would have allowed it. She understood his hatred for the church. Why had he stayed? The answer came in two parts. The first was his father. He still loved him dearly and didn’t want to leave him. The second was even simpler. The book.
    Sylvester wanted the book. Since he had first touched it and let the warmth from the leather course into his flesh, he has held a craving for it. The book was the only thing on his mind. Even the darkest hatred he felt for the church was overshadowed by his need for the book. It slowly began to overtake his need even for love and affection from his father. It was almost as if a part of his soul was inside of that book, and he needed to reclaim it.
    When Sylver turned thirteen years old, his father gave him a very particular birthday present. It was a crucifix necklace, made of the purest of silver. Even the chain was a reflective, shiny silver. The odd thing about the crucifix was the slot. At the bottom of the cross was a small slit, as if something were supposed to go in it. Or come out.
    About this time, Sylver met a kid around his age named Michael Provalli. Michael was an interesting boy. He talked continuously about his job as a shinigami and how he saved people from dangerous creatures known as hollow. After a few months of being best friends in the church (there were hardly any interesting children; The two were outsiders), he even allowed Sylver to see his shinigami form.
    it was the first time he saw a shinigami, Sylver was not as impressed as one would imagine. Perhaps it as because of his family’s history of seeing spirits. Sylver himself had always assumed ghosts remained simply because. He had no idea that some people had a job of it. Not even this, however, could deter his mind from the book.
    Nearly Fourteen years old, Michael and Sylver began to see less and less of each other. Michael was rising in the ranks of the shinigami, and worked at the church less and less. Similarly, Sylver was growing less and less public. He instead spent all of his time holding onto the book. He had stolen it one night. Although he was crafty and careful, his father saw the entire production. He watched with a sad smile as Sylver took the book. Things would only get interesting from here on out. The more time he spent with the book, the more distant he became from others. The more time he spent with the book, the colder and more paranoid Sylver became.
    While Sylver was examining the lock that held the chains around the book, a thought suddenly dawned on him. The slot for the keyhole was the exact same size and shape as the slot at the bottom of his necklace. Fishing the crucifix from his shirt, he compared them. His hunch was correct. They were the same. He then became aware that his father knew all along that he needed the book. Silently thanking his father, Sylver began to examine the cross more closely than he ever had.
    The two nubs at the side that denoted arms for the cross were slightly wiggly. Wiggling one around for a few minutes, Sylver became aware that it actually turned. Preparing himself for ..well, he didn't quite know what, Sylver braced himself mentally. Turning the knob, a thin, silver key head slid from the slot at the bottom of the crucifix. Gasping, he knew instinctively what the key was for.
    Sliding the teethed edge of the key into the slot on the lock that held the black chains around the book, Sylver prayed that it work. His prayers were answered. The key not only fit the lock, but actually seemed to slide itself in. Turning on it’s own, the black chain and lock fell to the ground with a clatter. Taking a deep breath, Sylver slid the key back into it’s cross position and dropped it down the neck of his shirt once more.
    Feeling the full cover of the book with his hand, the warmth was staggering. The heat produced from the book was so hot that it actually burned his hand slightly. Ignoring the pain, Sylver was about to achieve something he had been vying for since he was five years old. Blue eyes filled with intense desire. This was it.
    Standing, Sylver quickly moved to shut the door of his room and lock it. He wanted no interruptions for this. Moving back to his bed, Sylver picked up the book once more. The barely-recognizable face that was on the cover was suddenly in much more detail then before. Sliding his fingers over it, the heat was so unbearable it actually singed off the fingerprints on his index and middle finger of his left hand. As his fingers passed over the eyes, they glowed very briefly. The pupils were yellow while the sclera were black. This was a flash of color so fast that Sylver thought he was imagining it.
    Sliding his nail under the cover, Sylver took another deep breath and opened the book. Immediately the chains on the floor began to glow with a blue lettering that was written up and down the chains. Ignoring it, Sylver’s eyes scanned the table of contents. Listed in the book were many things. The most notable, however, were the chapters titled “Vereor and the Azathoths” and “Binding Magicks”, which were both bold and all capitals, as well as in thick red ink an odd type considering the other chapters were scrawny characters in a regular typeface. Flicking the page forward, Sylver began reading. Not leaving his room for three days, the book became his only concern.

    It taught him everything he needed to know about Hollow, Shinigami, Arrancar, Humans, and even Vizards. In olden times, Vizards actually existed. They were created from a process that involved forced hollowfication and Azathoth binding magicks.
    Finally, he reached the chapter on Vereor and the Azathoths. As Sylver read, he began to understand. He now understood why his family was rumoured to be in league with Satan and Black Magicks. They were. In ancient times, this book was constructed with the flesh of a Vasto Lorde named Vereor. The face on the cover was Vereor’s actual face, the hollow flesh being worked until it was leather and then a book bound inside of it.
    Why did this happen? Vereor was a powerful Vasto Lorde. Unfortunately, he became indebted to the Azathoth clan after they took him in and saved his life. Why had they done this? Vereor was the first Azathoth. He had been a part of a family called Azagthone and split off after marrying Stella Perecles. As a human, Vereor was cursed to become a monster. Although he fought the shinigami and hollow equally, never favouring one or the other, he was still a monster. After his death, he had become a powerful hollow and evolved over time. In the living world, his family had continued on, the name of Azathoth slowly growing.
    In fact, the chain around the book was his original spirit chain as a mortal. How had it sustained it’s own existence for so long? The runes etched along the chain was a binding enchantment. It bound the chain to the book and the vasto lorde as a living being. Yes, that meant exactly what it sounded like. The book was a living being (actually being alive being relative). The more research Sylver did on the book and the family, the more he learned about himself, and the less he liked. For instance, the book told him that “One year for each sibling at twice the lucky number. On the day of birth, the beast shall awaken.”
    On his fourteenth birthday, Sylver would become a beast similar to Vereor was in his life. Checking the clock, Sylver stared with horror. Upon coming to that revelation, Sylver realized that his birthday was in three hours. He was going to descend into madness in three hours. What the hell was he supposed to do? He had to leave. It was the only option.
    Scribbling a note on a piece of paper, he apologized to his family for leaving. At the bottom, he crossed out his actual name and rewrote “Urufu”. That was who he was now. That was his name. On the back, in lighter ink, he rewrote the passage that told him of his incoming doom. Perhaps his father would know. Placing the book on his floor, Sylver carefully stepped on the back cover with each foot, then pressed his hand against it tightly. Wincing from the heat, he burned off his fingerprints. The last markings of Sylver.
    Rewrapping the book in it’s chains, he left one loop free. Slinging it over his shoulder, Sylver began to redress. He would leave behind his shoes. The Vatican members wore shoes specially made for them by a private cobbler. They were easily recognizable. Shedding his usual clothes, Sylver instead donned a cloak and black cargo pants. He would let his hair grow out as well. He would become a different person, basically. He would become Urufu. And he would never see his family again.

    Luckily, his birthday was late at night. With an hour and fifteen minutes to go, Urufu began to flee. Escaping into the night with only the book and his necklace, Urufu disappeared. The shadows swallowed him into her gullet, closing her mouth over him and the book. With the moon high in the sky watching him, Urufu paused and gave it a small thanks for being full this night. He would need the light to see.
    Around half an hour before the transformation was due, Urufu began to display symptoms. His vision, hearing, and sense of smell were slowly gaining clarity and perception. The trim nails that tipped each finger and toe were growing at an alarming rate. Sharp and thick, they were more akin to talons than nails. Slowly, his blue eyes were beginning to lighten. In time, they would be a rich gold, like pools of molten riches.
    Oddly enough, he would have to stop and look around. He swore he heard whispers. Every time he heard the whispers, his chest felt slightly more warm. Of course. Heat. That was the answer. Pulling the book out from inside of his cloak, Urufu studied the over while underneath a large tree. Hiding in the darkness, he studied the cover with perfect vision. His transformation was growing nearer.
    Suddenly, the clock struck midnight. His birthday had presented itself. Dropping the book, it hung suspended in their by the chain around his shoulder. A deep laugh echoed around him; The source of the unholy sound was his book. With a shudder rippling off throughout his body, Urufu tore off the cloak and threw it to the ground. Throwing his head back, he let out a loud, eerie howl.
    Unlike Vereor, whom was known as a dark creature of mythical proportions, Urufu was much simpler. His altered form included a wolf head, thicker proportions, a tail, and shaggy fur. In totality, he became a werewolf. Running rampant, he tried to get back to civilization and rip apart the world. Fortunately, something stopped him.
    There was a harsh glow emanating from Urufu’s chest. It was not actually him, but the book he carried. The face on the cover seemed to be pulsing at a much faster rate the before. A harsh whispering stopped Urufu in his intrepid tracks. The book was saying something. Because of his enhanced hearing and perception, he could actually make it out now.
    The time had come, apparently. The book was whispering it at an incredibly fast speed. The time had come. The time for what? Growling at the book, he ripped the chain from his chest and threw it to the ground. With a clutter, the book landed cover side up. The face on the front seemed to outline itself much sharper then before.
    Suddenly, a bulge. From the cover exuded an actual face in three dimensions. Rapidly, the leather material that made it up alchemized into a white bone-like substance. It was, without a doubt, a hollow mask. As it rose into the air, a whispy blackness followed it. Forming a body of sorts, the shadow substance under it reshaped to include six tentacles, two with serpentine heads, long black claws, and a thin yet tall body. It was reptilian to the max. Startled, Urufu stepped backwards. Swishing his tail, he readied his own claws to fight.
    “I have been waiting far too long for you, Sylvester Azathoth. This book may have had served it’s purpose well, but you are my true vessel. Prepare yourself.” Lunging, the mask struck Urufu dead in the face. Wrapping the tentacles around his body, the mask slowly began to dissolve into Urufu’s face. Shortly after it, the tentacles and claws seemed to disappear into him as well. As this was happening, Urufu himself seemed to echo.
    He was slowly being pushed out of his own corpse. As the spirit chain emerged, Urufu noticed one of the headed tentacles wink at him, the glowing red eyes chaotic and evil. Snapping it’s fangs around the chain very close to the base, the rest began dissolving at an alarming rate. Urufu was going to lose his body and become a hollow, all in one 10 minute period?
    He thought not. As unanticipated as it was, Urufu had a plan. He was now well versed in the sealing spells of the Azathoth clan. He was now in Medium form (what his family referred to as when they had the most power and could actually perform sealing rights). He would get his body back. Reaching to the ground, he grabbed the glowing black chain. Moving the lock to the end of it, he clasped it onto his Saketsu while muttering ancient Latin.
    Twirling the other end rapidly, he swung it hard. Striking his corpse’s Saketsu, he finished his incantation with the phrase “Sino venti quinque vince sopore relinquere.”, which roughly means “May the five winds relinquish your slumber.” There was a flash of white light, and then all the light in the area seemed to dim, drawn into his corpse. Shielding his eyes, he blacked out.
    When he awoke, his eyes blinked rapidly to dispel the mucous that had developed. Sitting up, he noticed three things. The first was that he was in his human body (emphasis on human). The second was that Vereor and the book were both gone. The third was that on his chest blazed a tattoo. It was a black sun with nine points, roughly the size of his palm, located directly over his heart.
    Standing, he found his cloak and shrugged it back on. The advanced senses from the transformation had dwindled slightly, but still remained in a portion. It wasn’t much, but it was a huge improvement from his old senses. The fur, tail, and muzzle from the transformation too had disappeared, although his claws remained. He liked them. He was going to keep them. Sliding his tongue over sharp, long teeth, Urufu realized his mouth was full of canine-esque choppers. Smiling, he liked that too.
    Looking around the forest, he took a deep breath. Inhaling the scents and life around him, Urufu allowed the delicious silence to wash over him. There were no other people. There were no other PEOPLE! This was fantastic. He loved it in the forest.
    Suddenly, a deer shot 20 feet to the left of him up the river that was flowing with crystal clear water. Immediately, he was after it. Toughened skin brushed away the twigs and bristles of the forest as if they were feathers. Apparently, something else remained after the transformation. His perception, reflexes, and body had changed to turn him from a church kid into a Hunter. He was a predator now, and kill he was going to.
    The moment he reached the deer, his claws sunk into the deer’s haunches. His strength, however, had not changed. Flying forward with the deer, he leaped into the air and landed on it’s back. Sinking his fangs into the neck, he punched at the throat hard. This stopped the fucker. Allowing the delicious blood to sink into his throat, he grinned. It was delicious.

    As time passed, Urufu began to learn more about himself. The transformation had changed him into a carnivore. If he ate anything else, he would throw up violently. His body simply rejected anything but meat. It was a simple fact. Trying to live with humans again after a year of living in the forest, Urufu found himself plagued with nightmares.
    He saw himself transforming and ripping the humans apart with his claws and fangs, then devouring them whole. The first few time it wasn’t really an issue. He didn’t actually care about humans that much. Although he was still in civilization, he still slept outside. He still refused to wear shoes (with tougher skin, who needed them?) and still refused to get a job and/or go to school. Although he was in civilization again, he was still a loner.
    The faces of everyone he saw on the streets began shifting as each and every night was plagued with nightmares.. Everyone he saw started to turn into malevolent creatures. Slowly, he was beginning to hallucinate monsters under every bed, in every alley, and on every face. Whispers became evident around him, and seemed to be coming from the society around him, although these were hallucinations as well. He had no idea what could have spawned these. At first he thought it was from the carnivorous diet, but then disregarded that. He wasn’t showing any other negative symptoms. His next thought was about his bestial transformation, but no other signs of it were showing up. He was once more human.
    The nightmares worsened. No longer was he plagued with killing people. Now he saw himself dying in numerous and horrible ways. After that, it became simply watching everything die. His days were filled with the taking of lives as he fed himself. His nights were filled with Death. Slowly, an insomniactic disease began to spread through Urufu. It had been six months since he reclaimed his body from Vereor. It had been three weeks since he slept.
    Whenever a hollow attacked around Urufu, he devoured it. Whenever a shinigami showed up to investigate the hollow, he devoured it. Even humans were being devoured by Urufu. Bloodlust and hunger for flesh were also growing inside of him. Cannibalism was something he had learned to love. He had no choice. His body and mind craved it. Needless to say, he got over the initial feeling of wrongness he felt quite easily.

    When he was fifteen, exactly one year after he first transformed and got rid of Vereor, everything was revealed. It turns out that he didn’t quite get rid of Vereor. He was still there, in the back of his mind. It made sense. His mask had been absorbed into Urufu, and his Soul Chain was now in place of Urufu’s. They needed each other to survive at this point. In a dream, Vereor finally appeared and told Urufu everything. They sat at a table that was shaped and painted to represent a Tao. Seeing as Urufu’s reiatsu was pure white and Vereor’s was pure black, nothing else would have been acceptable.
    Vereor explained that he was the cause of the nightmares and hallucinations. His inner wolf was the cause of the new feeding habit and he had no control over that. That was all him. Why? Because now that the two were going to be sharing a body, Vereor wanted to help him. How exactly was insomnia helping him? If Urufu did not need to sleep, then Urufu could hunt more. Why did Urufu need to hunt more? Urufu was going to take over Hueco Mundo. If he hunted more and built up his strength and body, he was going to accomplish great things.
    He was then informed that he had a latent ability now that that he and Vereor were sharing power. Seeing as Vereor was not an ‘inner hollow’, but actually just a ‘split personality’, all of his abilities became Urufu’s. Urufu grinned. Good. That’s exactly what the spell he cast was supposed to do. Sadly, the book was gone, so he wouldn’t be able to cast anymore. Luckily, he now had the abilities of Vereor to replace them. Although he didn’t have the same amount of reiryoka and reiatsu as him, he would still use them to his best abilities.
    Why should he take over Hueco Mundo? Vereor was a king once. He wanted to regain that title. Why should he help Vereor? If he did, he would gain a true family. His catholic family wouldn’t be an issue anymore. He would be able to live with family and friends and have a great time. Urufu was instantly in.
    Immediately afterwards, Vereor taught Urufu how to use his new abilities. Sadly, the cannibalistic and carnivorous qualities were to be lost. He was going to become a sanguinirian. The moment he accepted Vereor’s influence, he would have to abide by Vereor’s old rules. Luckily, he was okay with that.
    The following two years involved Urufu learning how to live with two separate beings inside of his mind that were actually a part of him. The first was Vereor, of course. Although he was a hollow and whatnot, the two actually got along fairly well. The second was his Inner Wolf. Even though he didn’t speak, and occasionally took a bit of control if certain urges came up, there were no qualms with any of them. They were a perfect balance of being.
    He was also learning how to live with his new lifestyle of drinking only blood, although that was not really an issue. Although he missed meat, he would have to live with it. Literally. Otherwise he was going to die. Along with the blood came his new abilities, and live with them he had to do as well. Oddly enough, he took it all in stride. As the heir of the Azathoth’s, he would have to live with it. As well as abilities, Urufu’s blue eyes became a deep purple. Red and Blue made purple, after all.
    Because of Vereor’s influence, he lost the ability to call upon his inner wolf. Every now and then, though, he could feel it’s power coursing through his veins and knew that if he actually fought for it, he would achieve his werewolf form once more. It wouldn’t be too difficult, he imagined. He couldn’t wait to achieve it again, he simply didn’t want to waste it if it was a one time deal.

    As a seventeen year old living in the streets of Japan (Vereor told him to go there in order to encounter more supernatural activity. It was home to the largest collection of reiryoka on earth and would provide him with everything he needed to take over Hueco Mundo), Urufu learned that Hollow blood was delicious. In fact, reishi-rich blood and reishi-created blood tasted simply divine.
    Karakura town was vastly different then Rome, Italy. In Asia, food was everywhere and rarely missed. Hardly anyone noticed his 1 or 2 victims every three days or so being found missing and then dead. He could feed to his hearts content.
    After arriving in Karakura town, Urufu made quite a reputation, and fast. He was the thing that went bump at night. The people feared the one that stalked the street with purple hair and an innocent jangle. As a sanguirian, Urufu was the terror of the people. It was not long before he was contacted by an arrancar. The two were of similar composition; The two fed on sentient creatures in order to remain alive. Finding themselves getting along better and better each day, the two decided to perform a daring heist. Rob the karakura museum of everything they could lay their bloody hands on.
    With Urufu acting as the distraction, the arrancar pulled off the grand theft, unseen to human eyes. Sadly, that was the last day they saw each other. The arrancar left Urufu with half the loot and all the excitement of the world. Nonetheless, he used part of his stores in order to create twin short swords, which he now keeps on his person at all times. A tribute to the friendly arrancar. The remaining silver and whatnot stolen is kept underneath the roots of a great tree in the forest, where Urufu currently calls home.

    .

    Quote :
    Roleplaying Sample: A foolish Shinigami had requested a battle with Urufu Azathoth, as he tried to enjoy a relaxing day at the beach."A spar you say?" He asked grinning. "Sounds good." Bringing his claws to his lips, he was pleased to note that some of the blood from the hollow didn't wash away in the ocean. Several moments ago, Urufu had stolen the Shinigami's kill, and slayed a Flying Hollow with quite a bit power. Licking it off, he swallowed it. His purple eyes flashed black for a second, before he yawned. "This may hurt.." He whispered to himself, as gigantic wings sprung from his back, ripping the skin and his cloak. Blood dripped from his back slightly, but he was fine. Wiping away one tear threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes, he grinned. Launching himself into the air, he flapped his enormous bat-like wings, and held aloft in the salty ocean. Looking down on the shinigami, he began to charge a cero from his hand..

    The Shinigami had thrown up some sand in the first little bit in hopes to blind him. It worked.. slightly. As the sand blinded him, he smirked. He was the wolf of retribution, for The goddess' sakes. Urufu didn't need to see to defend. "I can still hear the whistle of the wind as your blade approaches." He said, as he twirled with his left wing extended, smacking Rokiro (The Shini) and knocking his blade away from his wind. "And I can still hear your blood pumping through your veins." He said, as he began to slash and hack at the boy with his claws, both from his hands and shoe-less feet.

    He wore no shoes, and never trimmed his nails, until they became a hassle. They were sharp as daggers, and incredibly sharp and thick. See, Urufu needed blood to survive. Until he got it, he had barely any abilities. He needed a way to penetrate some skin and get to the delicious red nectar inside of someone. If he ate regular human food, he would throw it up. And that wasn't pretty.

    As the sun shone down on the two, Urufu finally cleared out his eyes. Still slashing towards Rokiro, his vision was fuzzy, but soon cleared. The ocean was like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket. It sparkled and shone with an intense blue that made Urufu smile, and nearly forget he was fighting. Nearly.

    The sand was white hot and glowing, shining off of everybody's near-naked body as they shone with sweat and ocean spray, many of them soaked. Some people were working their tans, and many had children that were making sand castles and the such. Focusing back to the task at hand, Urufu increased the reiatsu in his arms. This helped force oxygen into his muscles, and made him go faster.

    Pushing, he practically forced the wind to separate away from him to increase his speed. He didn't technically do that, but it seemed like it as sweat poured from his body in his attempt to harm his sparring partner. Sharpening his claws with reiatsu even still, he continued his barrage of nail, adding tooth occasionally, snapping at Rokiro's form to get some blood. He was moving so fast, he wasn't sure if he even hit the boy once.

    Eat him.. eat him..eat him.. That voice was still in his head. Sometimes he could ignore it.. but usually he couldn't. And he usually listened. As the Shinigami was torn to pieces by his deadly claws, He listened...
    quote]
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PostSubject: Re: Urufu Azathoth   18/03/11, 04:01 pm

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PostSubject: Re: Urufu Azathoth   18/03/11, 04:14 pm

Reiatsu: 29
-Racial Abilities: 10
-Personal Abilities: 19
Physical Prowess: 19
-Speed: 7
-Strength: 6
-Defense: 3
-Weaponry: 3
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PostSubject: Re: Urufu Azathoth   18/03/11, 04:15 pm

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