Post by Walkren Dekharr on Apr 2, 2015 16:33:24 GMT -5
The PhysicalAge: 128 [Born in 1889, Death in 1925 (36), Konso in 1926, Academy in 1934, Shinigami since 1944]
Birthdate: November 27th
Height: 5’7” | 170 cm
Weight: 130 lbs. | 59 kg
Hair & Eyes: Dirty Blonde & Hazel
Anyone who knew Walkren before he was captured by the evil forces of Las Noches would know he always looked a mess. His hair and beard had always been unkempt and his uniform was usually wrinkled. Anyone who knew him would notice that he was completely different after being rescued. His hair was less of a mess and his beard definitely looked as if it was groomed and even cut shorter than before. His uniform was pristine and proper with nothing out of place. A sharp eye, though, would notice that he carries no blade of any kind. What hasn't changed is the sleep that trails his eyes with every blink. They may wrinkle with his disarming grin, but the bags underneath can't be hidden. What is hidden are the large, twisted scars covering the majority of his neck and webbing out onto his chest. They are very faint, having faded with time, and they tend to be hard to see with his beard covering the majority of his neck. Upon close inspection, it is easy to make out. A scar that has yet had time to fade is the one that Evelynn made when she pierced through his chest to sow the seeds for a Hollow to take hold of Walkren's soul. That scar is harder to see, usually covered up by Walkren's robes.
The MentalSexuality: Borderline Bisexual. Tending towards women.
Loyalties: Himself. The Seireitei, of course.
Titles and Duties: Captain of the Third Division and General of the Kido Corps
Former Lieutenant of the Third Division
Former Head Archivist of the Third Division
There is a deep seeded need to know that is weaved in the very foundation of Walkren’s psyche. This curiosity was the drive he needed to shake off his stagnant lifestyle and push himself to ask the questions that gnawed at his brain. His curiosity landed him with an Inner Hollow and his soul tied to a deal with the devil proving that he would do whatever he needed to appease the gnawing. That lack of a moral compass benefits him when he needs to do things that aren’t entirely savory, but can sometimes lead him astray.
Thankfully, his charm helps him in many of these unsavory situations. Even without prompt, he finds himself sprinkling conversations with words that slowly break down the walls of those around him. Even without his power edging them on, he can manipulate the people around him, molding them into exactly what he want. Walkren himself is the biggest recipient of his manipulations. The man twists his own thoughts and blocks his feelings away from himself. This subconscious act has molded Walkren more than he will ever know.
Ironically, it causes Walkren to be more empathetic to the feelings of others. His lack of any true feelings draw in the ones around him and he can feel their pain or their happiness. He uses this to his advantage when he can, but most of the time, he just finds himself pushing away. There is a fine line he must traverse to keep his own emotions at bay. This distance has rarely been crossed by anyone. Ichiro was able to get close to Walkren, but even he was cut off as soon as that distance was established.
There is more to Walkren than just a lack of emotion, though. He is a brilliant Shinigami and actually takes pride in his abilities. He was set to graduate two years early from the Academy before he found Tamashioko. After only seeing a Black Coffin being cast once he was able to reproduce the spell in the midst of combat. There is a sharp incisiveness to his mind that allows him to pick things up faster than those around him. Before now, he was never arrogant of that intelligence, but recent events have awakened him to how much potential he has. He knows that he is good at what he does and doesn’t hesitate to let it fill his mind.
There was a time when he would almost always be found playing his music. He is a creative soul, in more ways than just art, but, after his visit to Las Noches, not a single Shinigami has seen him even touch an instrument. He doesn’t find the same pleasure in being musically creative as he had before his visit. Instead, he is usually found in sparring rooms or far out in the Rukongai, fireworks of Kido lighting up the hillocks around him. A fire started inside of him by Souta continues to go unsated and his thirst for blood drives him to look for any means to fight or create new Kido.
Tamashioko [魂織工 - Soulweaver]
Tamashioko is spider-like in it’s appearances. That only goes so far. It’s black and red skin is pulled taut over the bones that make it up. It’s humanoid in appearance from the waist up, but it has four spider-like legs that it uses to travel swiftly through the maze of ribbons in Walkren’s Inner World. It’s cratered face is void of any facial features, save a gaping maw that is ever open. It’s long sinewed hands are ever at work sewing together the ribbons that populate Walkren’s inner world and it uses the tentacles that protrude out of its abdomen to create them out of nothing.
The creature is a darker spirit. The epitome of what Walkren is at the core of his being: Control. To that end, Tamashioko represents the drive for Walkren to not even worry about controlling the elements around him and instead just isolate himself from everything. Tamashioko tends to be ruthless and precise. He is also very plodding, and tends to be cryptic when actually speaking to Walkren. He believes Walkren isn't ruthless enough and should accept the isolation that he had so long stayed with.
For the longest time, Walkren ignored the spirit. There was about seventy years where Walkren praised the isolation that Tamashioko drove him too. With dark dreams and visions of destruction, Walkren was pushed into isolation. He feared his Zanpakuto spirit and feared what might come of using his powers. Only recently, after a growing power inside of Walkren awoke did Tamashioko realize that pure isolation would just lead to stagnation. Walkren's own antics have proven that they can't stay like they were before. Together, they have begun to move into the future.
A dark place...always dark. Ribbons, draped over and over again, block out most of the light. They are pure white and vary in size and hang on nothing. The little light that does fall on the world, seems to come from nothing. It barely pierces the clouds that float in the air. A dark shape can be seen moving through the mass of ribbons, flinging more into the air as it goes. These ribbons fall on nothing and add to the mass that is already draped over the world. They get in the way and push back against Walkren as he tries to make his way through it, blocking his vision. They represent the bonds he makes with the people around him and they are placed into his world by Tamashioko.
The ground is made up of mud and dirt and squelch as Walkren walks through the world. There’s a feeling of isolation and claustrophobia thick in the air. Even with the isolated feelings, there is also the tingling sensation of someone’s eyes piercing the ribbons and watching everything. Paranoia invades the mind. Was that something moving? Or was it the ribbons swaying? It was probably both. The mind plays tricks on the senses and it’s hard to focus and not get lost in the disarray of the world. Complete focus is needed to make it through. If you make it through, in the center of the swamp of tangled ribbons is a hillock with a grand piano resting atop it. The haunting sounds that come from the vibrating strings weave through the miles of cloth.
Walkren's blade is rarely sealed these days. Out of necessity and a desire for control, his Shikai is almost always active. When sealed, it's simply a single Asauchi blade. The hilt is wrapped in a clean, white ribbon. He also opts to keep it hidden away in a pocket dimension that he has created with Bakudo, sealed or not. With practice, he has been able to call upon his blade's power while it is still hidden away. One day he may even be able to do more than that...
Life Before Death [1889-1925]
The Great War was hell. Walkren, being a doctor, was put to work tending to the wounded. Wounded is putting it lightly...it was more like tending to the disfigured. Horrors beyond any that Walkren had seen bombarded his senses every single day. Lumps of flesh missing most of their former selves still screaming for life. Bodies mummified by the burns from the toxic chemicals in the air. A man being held down, screaming with tears in his eyes, destined to lose his arm or lose his life. Red was the color of his white coat. Red the color of the tile floor. Red the color of the plastered walls. He became numb to the pain, numb to the screaming, numb to the death.
Hollowed out, he became an empty vessel, moving along with the duties he was given. With no break from this, his psyche quickly changed. He had an incident when treating a patient where blood started to squirt out of a torn vein. Walkren, covered in the red rain, started to chuckle to himself. He slowly grew to find pleasure in his work and he was finally able to play the music he always wanted. His patients became the instruments and their screams his hauntingly beautiful music. He found every point on the human body that would cause just the right amount of pain that he wanted. His became an insatiable appetite for more pain, for more screams, more blood. Then the war ended.
He was left with nothing. His job, his life, his family. It was all gone. He was alone. The war had ruined the German Empire. It was seemingly never going to recover. He had been at the top of his craft. He had been brilliant. He had been a god. Now he was nothing. He spent most of his days smoking, or drinking, or both. Mostly both. He descended into a pit of despair. A pit that was too deep to climb out of...and he sought solace in the cold embrace of death...
Disappointing Afterlife [1925-1926]
Eventually composing himself, Walkren wandered aimlessly for what seemed like a countless time. He visited people he knew and people he had seen. None seemed to notice his presence. He left the lands that he had called home for so long and traveled where his feet took him. No sense of direction in his mind. He saw others like him. Some faces he recognized, some he didn’t.
He spent what seemed like years wandering as an aimless spirit when finally he saw a man in black robes sticking out of the crowd. This man looked at him and Walkren knew that he wasn’t just staring through his incorporeal body. Walkren’s eyes grew wide as the man approached and offered to release him from his wanderings. Walkren agreed without question and the man performed the Konso on him. His sight went black and his mind went blank.
Finally Free [1926-1934]
Over the first few years, he quickly made himself well known throughout the area that he lived in by giving healing to anyone who came to him with problems. Some of the knowledge of his past life seemed to have trickled into his new one and he easily picked up basic healing...Some basic Kaido, mixed with herbs and some modern medicine, helped him to heal most ailments that came to him. He was able to support himself through his healing, owning a modest home in one of the middle class districts of the Rukongai.
After eight years he was doing alright for himself. He didn’t have a family by blood, but he had made a family through the community around him. He had dated a few women, but the few serious relationships he had never surmounted to anything. He thought life was pretty good, though. He didn’t have any stresses besides ones he created himself. He had the support of his friends. Life was good.
But one day, he grew fatigued from overexerting himself. He was tired and far out from his home. He tried to make it back without stopping, but soon collapsed. He just wasn’t able to get to any sustenance in time. Thankfully, his friendships with the people in the Rukongai paid off and some of those people found him passed out on the ground. They took him to the nearest place to eat and fed him slowly awake. He slept for a long time before recovering.
The next time he woke up, he was surrounded by Shinigami. They told him what had happened. How he had passed out because of his spiritual energy being more powerful than those around him. The men offered Walkren a place at an academy that trained people like him. He accepted and gladly took up their offer, wanting to find out more about this power they spoke of and what he could do with it. Something inside of him sparked that day and began to grow.
Promising Future [1934-1937]
He quickly rose in the ranks of the students around him and had top marks in many of his classes. Just like in the Rukongai, he was quickly able to establish himself and make friends wherever he went. He even dated, but mostly tried to stick to his studies. He was a model student. It seemed like he would graduate within four years, instead of the normal six.
When he found free time, he also happily started to learn to play music. Something about playing it made him feel right deep down inside. It resonated with him and the whispers grew louder as he played. He used it as an escape when things got a bit too stressful with school. Everything seemed right and going to the academy had just been the next step after his nice life in the Rukongai.
The Past Come to Haunt 
A year before he was set to graduate, one of the fastest in recent history, the whispers turned into a voice. It was dark and hollow. He couldn’t make out what it was saying at first. He spent some time meditating and trying to dig deeper into himself. After a few months of intense Jinzen, his attempts finally bore fruit.
The voice was clear. Walkren heard the words as if...as if the speaker was right next to him. He opened his eyes and gasped. Darkness enveloped him. The shreds of light drifting down from above fell onto white ribbons hanging on nothing. In that moment, he felt claustrophobic. He felt...nostalgia. This place seemed familiar to him. He moved through the tangle of fabric, his feet sloshing in the wet ground as he went.
It seemed to go on forever; a neverending forest of white sheets. He had walked was seemed like days to him when he began to feel like he was being watched. He turned. Nothing. Not that he would have noticed much in this maze of crossing ribbons. He kept walking, sure that he had heard or felt or was it...saw...something. Then something came to him. He took another quick look around, hesitating before whispering, “Tamashioko...”
His voice echoed through the ribbons as if they weren’t there. He yelled it, “Tamashioko!”
And then he felt it. The cold darkness seeped down the back of his neck. He felt it pulsing. He heard it breathing. His eyes went wide and a bead of sweat made a trail down the side of his face. The sweat wasn’t from heat, this place had a chill to it. Without hesitating, he turned and stared upon the creature that towered above him. It was a black and red skinned skeletal creature. It had spider legs and tentacles that swayed out of it’s stomach. It’s presence drained the courage out of Walkren.
Walkren stood shocked, unable to move. The creature shifted, moving a hand towards him. Walkren jolted out of his paralysis and stumbled back, his leg tangling with a ribbon. He fell back into the moist earth with a splash. A long slow exhale came from the creature.
“Are you...Tamashioko? Are...are you my Zanpakuto?” The words stumbled out of Walkren’s mouth. Another exhale came from the creature and it started to shift closer to Walkren. Walkren started to shift back, but he stopped, resolved himself, and stood to meet the thing that was gracefully gliding towards him. It’s hand moved again in the same motion towards Walkren. This time though, Walkren brought his hand up to meet it. The instant they touched something awoke in Walkren deep down. Something that he hadn’t felt since he was alive during the war.
He drew his hand away, fearful of this new feeling he had. It seemed wrong. It seemed perverse. He felt the desire to hurt...someone. He felt he would gain pleasure from it. Was his Zanpakuto trying to tell him something? Though he had a growing fear, his curiosity still outweighed it and he stood his ground. His hand reached out again to meet Tamashioko’s withered claws.
The feeling that was growing inside him grew more rapidly and he started having visions. It was visions of him, holding a black and red blade stabbing people he knew, friends and classmates. The blade sank deep into their chest and their bodies decayed right before his eyes. Walkren looked at himself in the vision and saw that he was smiling, and then laughing, as the people he stabbed were drained of their life force.
This time he pulled back even faster. He was confused. He enjoyed what he had seen. He felt himself smiling. Why? His hand went to his face and wiped away the sweat gathering on his forehead. The nostalgic feeling hit him again. From what he had learned about Zanpakuto he knew that they were a part of the Shinigami’s soul. This didn’t seem right. He looked back up at Tamashioko and shook his head, “What are you?”
Slowly and deeply, with the same force as the breath that had escaped it’s mouth earlier, sound escaped the mouth of Tamashioko, “I am what you have made me.”
Another shake. This didn’t seem right to him...yet deep down it felt right. He didn't want to admit it, “I didn’t make you, creature. I was trying to commune with my Zanpakuto...what have you done with Tamashioko?”
“I am who you have named,” escaped with the same speed as before from the maw of the creature. It moved it’s hands forward again as it started to glide closer to Walkren. Walkren stepped back, unsure of himself. The ground squelched as he kept walking backwards, the ribbons seemed to be parting for him.
The creature continued to advance in confidence, while Walkren retreated, his mind racing. Yet all it was doing was going in circles around a track. He didn’t know what to expect when he communed with his Zanpakuto, but he didn’t expect this. And those visions...what could they mean? He had enjoyed that?! How...Why...What do I do? How do I get out of here?
His gaze broke with the creature and his head darted to the left, to the right. It was just ribbons all around him. He was trapped within them. There was no escape from this creature. It’s creeping voice broke his thoughts, “You called me here. Do you wish to know the secrets I hold? Or are you just going to back away from me?”
Walkren stopped moving. His mind raced over everything one more time and then he looked up at the creature and spoke, “I wish to know your secrets.”
The creature nodded and moved towards Walkren until they were almost touching. It reared it’s hand back and in an instant Walkren was looking down at the creatures arm. It had torn through his chest. His eyes grew wide as more visions came to him. In a blur now, undistinguishable. Then black.
He woke an instant later. He was back in his room. He grabbed at his chest. Nothing. There was no hole. He grabbed his sword from his lap and stood. Sweat was trickling down the side of his face as he took a long breath.
“Reap, Sow. Tamashioko.”
He felt power flow through him as his normal blade began to change, a dark energy rushed over it. The blade that it changed into was identical to the one he saw in his visions. A long, black and red, thing. He swung it a few times, feeling the air change as it passed through it. He sighed and shook his head. It was dark and empty of power. It tugged at his spirit.
He dismissed it and it changed back into the normal Asauchi. Sheathing it, he walked out of his room, a concerned look on his face.
The Decline [1937-1944]
He didn’t have the same spirit to learn and excel as he had before. He ended up failing the year and was put back onto the normal track. This he failed at as well. He joked with friends, that would become acquaintances, that he just wanted to stay in school forever. That he loved learning. A smile was always on his face. He learned to fake it very quickly. In the background, he was training his skills and honing his power to be controlled and to create a false release of his Shikai.
In truth, he didn’t wish to further his power. He didn’t wish to see what he had seen in that dark place again. Yet it frustrated him because he did! Deep down he knew, he hated that he know that he had enjoyed it. He wanted to feel his blade sink into someone else’s chest like in the visions. He worked to fight back these urges and suppress Tamashioko deep down.
Eventually, he even fell off the normal track and was put on the backburner. It was less that he couldn’t do what needed to be done. He knew it all already. He could have easily excelled. His drive and desire to were completely nonexistent. He used the years that he spent at school to play his music. What had become an exciting chance at life turned into him being afraid and alone just trying to get by.
Eventually, though, the time would come where he would graduate...
Holding Back [1944-Present Day]
It took him a few years, but eventually he decided to join the Third Division. If there was any division he would feel at home at in anyway it would be the one that ran the hospital of Soul Society. Besides doing that, he made no really large career moves. He spent the majority of the seventy years holding back. He smiled and held himself back. Doing the bare minimum. He made little to no friends. Many of the people he knew were acquaintances and stayed that way. He dated and slept around, but never wanted anything serious.
He continued his music outside of school. It freed his mind. He had to focus on playing. Always a new piece that he constructed from nothing. Always putting his mind to work. He rarely slept during this time. Opting to find a quiet place and fill it with music or to take on a double shift of the worst guard duty possible.
During this seventy years, he tried to commune with Tamashioko again, but everytime he would run and be resolved in his original decision. He used some of those times to improve on his false release, allowing him to use his own reiatsu to power the abilities he unlocked. Outside of his Shikai, he kept his other skills honed and continued to train them. He always had that hunger to learn, but it was conflicted with his desire to stay unnoticed and keep his power under wraps.
We come to the present day with Walkren having stayed out of most of the major events that have taken place and stayed alive through them as well. Soon something will come that will wake him up from his apathetic nap and begin him on a journey into the future...