YAMANOUE ANSELM
SHINIGAMI
DIVISION 3 SEAT SIX
AGE: 97 // GENDER: MAN // BILLET: RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT LIAISON
SURFACE
Appearance
The line between carefree and unkempt is thin. Anselm straddles it by luck alone.
Anselm’s shihakusho has always looked a bit big for him. On him, the slightly generous cut of the customary robe becomes a bagginess. The lower skirt of the garb nearly touches the floor; the sleeves hang down against Anselm’s dainty wrists. But Anselm refuses (read: forgets) to send for a tailor. He loves the way that the robes feel; like a heavy blanket, pushing him down onto his feet. But those robes hide a graceful gait. He walks with an unconscious economy of movement, as if he were focused on every step -- though that’s obviously not the case. All it takes is a look at Anselm’s dark brown eyes to see someone lost in their own world.
Grooming is a mixed bag for Anselm. His hair is at the dulcet length where messiness becomes texture, but his fingernails are constantly chewed to the nub. He keeps a brown leather satchel with him while he’s at work: it’s filled with scrolls and books, but suffers a catastrophic ink spill at least once a year. When off duty, Anselm loves to slip into more comfortable and colorful robes.
Anselm speaks in a low, calm tenor that matches his boyish face. When he speaks, it’s rarely without warmth or genuine feeling. His Japanese is crisp and fluent, but he's been known to come down far too hard on a syllable when he's lost focus. He stands 175 centimeters tall, and weighs about 60 kilograms soaking wet. His hair is a gentle mousy brown, and his eyes are a glowing hickory.
Reiatsu
Anselm's reaitsu is a light lavender that mists everything it touches in a soft glow. Normally, it smells like the favorite flower of the person perceiving it. As his emotions grow more intense, it takes on a dark purple color, tasting of the ferrous, solid smell of the earth before rain.
Psychology
Anselm -- Ane, to his friends who are less familiar with his mother tongue -- is about as surprised he made Sixth Seat as anyone else. From his hair -- washed, but never combed -- to his desk -- straightened up every fortnight, but by the next day, scattered with paperwork and open books -- his way of being in the everyday world betrays a quiet truth: he’s never completely there. Given a moment of idleness, Anselm will drift away, daydreaming. He feels best when he can focus on a single task: reading a hard book, writing a report, gardening, swimming, memorizing a complex incantation. Otherwise, he gets lost in the waves.
That’s largely why Anselm’s devoted himself to the theoretical study of kidou, long before he was a seated officer in the Third. Boredom in the barracks became swirling questions in his mind, which became late nights in the library; Anselm would study the war diaries of early Gotei leadership, the journals of strange Kidou mystics, the more empirical charts of reiryoku paths in the soul. Anselm, more than anything else, is tied to the Third because he wants to create magic that is beautiful, noble and new. Sometimes he feels pangs of regret for not considering the Fourth a bit more coming out of the Academy; then, he remembers how little rack time those poor clinicians have.
With others, Anselm is polite and kind, if reserved. He likes to listen first. This, along with his hobbies, has given him the reputation of being more withdrawn than the typical officer. It doesn’t bother him. His subordinates, in particular, know him to be calm and gentle in his demeanor, and effusive in his praise.
POWERS
Sealed Zanpakuto
Anselm’s tanto follows the form of the asauchi he was given -- glossy black scabbard, slightly curved blade -- up to the hilt. The bottom of the weapon is instead made up of strands of wrought iron, twisted together to form a rectangular grip. Sometimes, Anselm uses the dagger to cut vegetables.
Inner World
In his dreams, sometimes, Anselm will find himself sitting on the banks of a small lake. He knows he’s deep in the forest; he’s probably on a mountain range, but doesn’t care to look around. He watches the water: calm, glassy, completely still. The wind blows, but he’s not cold. He sits there for hours before waking up.
RECORDS
History
In his past life, Anselm was a monk -- or so he said. He wouldn’t even have remembered his name unless his family demanded it out of him. It was the first thing they asked him after they found him wandering in the Ten-North, Rukongai ticket still in hand, with no shoes. They made him write it down: “Anselm.” He was taken in by the Yamanoue family: among the best horticulturalists in the Rukongai, routinely called upon by the floral designers of the inner districts. Anselm, at first, was relegated to keeping inventory. He knew that was a blessing: in those first years, he spent most of his free time in bed, staring at his hands, or watching dust swirl through the sunbeams from the window. With time, he was given permission to work with the plants. But his growing reiatsu slowly started to capture the attention of Shinigami on patrol. They strongly encouraged him to apply to the Academy -- so did the rest of the Yamanoue. He left, at first reluctantly, but excited by the prospects of a new life.
At the Academy, Anselm proved himself to be a quick study at the Demon Arts. More than he had any natural feeling for kidou, he loved the meditative bliss of studying incantations. It reminded him of being home. After graduation, he was quickly slotted into the Third. As a recruit, he was often attached to units from the Eleventh Division. Combat brought Anselm no joy, but the deployments proved useful in sharpening his ability to cast under pressure. His service was rated as “acceptably dignified”, and luckily, his early service passed without utter catastrophe.
Thirty years after his recruitment, he was named Twentieth Seat -- Assistant to the Deputy Logistical Officer. The job came with more responsibility, but less time on Earth. He took it. During his time as a junior officer, he was one of the most active members of the Kidoshu Review: a ten-person strong journal club. Anselm stayed in that position for years before the Sixth Seat -- Research and Development Liaison -- was vacated. He had made some acquaintances in the Twelfth through his many nights at the Eighth’s library, and was thus deemed a solid fit. Anselm’s official job is to provide basic magical advising to the Twelfth; in reality, he spends much of his time running notes between higher ranking officers.
He’s held the position for about a year now and loves it; Anselm is happy to serve as a simple courier-slash-rubber stamp. Every once in a while, he learns something interesting, and gets to spend more time with the accomplished kidou practitioners that make up the Third’s officer corps. And, the best part: even less time on Earth. Anselm is happy, and has no ambition for greater recognition or glory. If he were to die as he lived right now -- small office, enough time to read, few people under his direct command -- he would count it a blessing.
SHINIGAMI
DIVISION 3 SEAT SIX
AGE: 97 // GENDER: MAN // BILLET: RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT LIAISON
SURFACE
Appearance
The line between carefree and unkempt is thin. Anselm straddles it by luck alone.
Anselm’s shihakusho has always looked a bit big for him. On him, the slightly generous cut of the customary robe becomes a bagginess. The lower skirt of the garb nearly touches the floor; the sleeves hang down against Anselm’s dainty wrists. But Anselm refuses (read: forgets) to send for a tailor. He loves the way that the robes feel; like a heavy blanket, pushing him down onto his feet. But those robes hide a graceful gait. He walks with an unconscious economy of movement, as if he were focused on every step -- though that’s obviously not the case. All it takes is a look at Anselm’s dark brown eyes to see someone lost in their own world.
Grooming is a mixed bag for Anselm. His hair is at the dulcet length where messiness becomes texture, but his fingernails are constantly chewed to the nub. He keeps a brown leather satchel with him while he’s at work: it’s filled with scrolls and books, but suffers a catastrophic ink spill at least once a year. When off duty, Anselm loves to slip into more comfortable and colorful robes.
Anselm speaks in a low, calm tenor that matches his boyish face. When he speaks, it’s rarely without warmth or genuine feeling. His Japanese is crisp and fluent, but he's been known to come down far too hard on a syllable when he's lost focus. He stands 175 centimeters tall, and weighs about 60 kilograms soaking wet. His hair is a gentle mousy brown, and his eyes are a glowing hickory.
Reiatsu
Anselm's reaitsu is a light lavender that mists everything it touches in a soft glow. Normally, it smells like the favorite flower of the person perceiving it. As his emotions grow more intense, it takes on a dark purple color, tasting of the ferrous, solid smell of the earth before rain.
Psychology
Anselm -- Ane, to his friends who are less familiar with his mother tongue -- is about as surprised he made Sixth Seat as anyone else. From his hair -- washed, but never combed -- to his desk -- straightened up every fortnight, but by the next day, scattered with paperwork and open books -- his way of being in the everyday world betrays a quiet truth: he’s never completely there. Given a moment of idleness, Anselm will drift away, daydreaming. He feels best when he can focus on a single task: reading a hard book, writing a report, gardening, swimming, memorizing a complex incantation. Otherwise, he gets lost in the waves.
That’s largely why Anselm’s devoted himself to the theoretical study of kidou, long before he was a seated officer in the Third. Boredom in the barracks became swirling questions in his mind, which became late nights in the library; Anselm would study the war diaries of early Gotei leadership, the journals of strange Kidou mystics, the more empirical charts of reiryoku paths in the soul. Anselm, more than anything else, is tied to the Third because he wants to create magic that is beautiful, noble and new. Sometimes he feels pangs of regret for not considering the Fourth a bit more coming out of the Academy; then, he remembers how little rack time those poor clinicians have.
With others, Anselm is polite and kind, if reserved. He likes to listen first. This, along with his hobbies, has given him the reputation of being more withdrawn than the typical officer. It doesn’t bother him. His subordinates, in particular, know him to be calm and gentle in his demeanor, and effusive in his praise.
POWERS
Sealed Zanpakuto
Anselm’s tanto follows the form of the asauchi he was given -- glossy black scabbard, slightly curved blade -- up to the hilt. The bottom of the weapon is instead made up of strands of wrought iron, twisted together to form a rectangular grip. Sometimes, Anselm uses the dagger to cut vegetables.
Inner World
In his dreams, sometimes, Anselm will find himself sitting on the banks of a small lake. He knows he’s deep in the forest; he’s probably on a mountain range, but doesn’t care to look around. He watches the water: calm, glassy, completely still. The wind blows, but he’s not cold. He sits there for hours before waking up.
RECORDS
History
In his past life, Anselm was a monk -- or so he said. He wouldn’t even have remembered his name unless his family demanded it out of him. It was the first thing they asked him after they found him wandering in the Ten-North, Rukongai ticket still in hand, with no shoes. They made him write it down: “Anselm.” He was taken in by the Yamanoue family: among the best horticulturalists in the Rukongai, routinely called upon by the floral designers of the inner districts. Anselm, at first, was relegated to keeping inventory. He knew that was a blessing: in those first years, he spent most of his free time in bed, staring at his hands, or watching dust swirl through the sunbeams from the window. With time, he was given permission to work with the plants. But his growing reiatsu slowly started to capture the attention of Shinigami on patrol. They strongly encouraged him to apply to the Academy -- so did the rest of the Yamanoue. He left, at first reluctantly, but excited by the prospects of a new life.
At the Academy, Anselm proved himself to be a quick study at the Demon Arts. More than he had any natural feeling for kidou, he loved the meditative bliss of studying incantations. It reminded him of being home. After graduation, he was quickly slotted into the Third. As a recruit, he was often attached to units from the Eleventh Division. Combat brought Anselm no joy, but the deployments proved useful in sharpening his ability to cast under pressure. His service was rated as “acceptably dignified”, and luckily, his early service passed without utter catastrophe.
Thirty years after his recruitment, he was named Twentieth Seat -- Assistant to the Deputy Logistical Officer. The job came with more responsibility, but less time on Earth. He took it. During his time as a junior officer, he was one of the most active members of the Kidoshu Review: a ten-person strong journal club. Anselm stayed in that position for years before the Sixth Seat -- Research and Development Liaison -- was vacated. He had made some acquaintances in the Twelfth through his many nights at the Eighth’s library, and was thus deemed a solid fit. Anselm’s official job is to provide basic magical advising to the Twelfth; in reality, he spends much of his time running notes between higher ranking officers.
He’s held the position for about a year now and loves it; Anselm is happy to serve as a simple courier-slash-rubber stamp. Every once in a while, he learns something interesting, and gets to spend more time with the accomplished kidou practitioners that make up the Third’s officer corps. And, the best part: even less time on Earth. Anselm is happy, and has no ambition for greater recognition or glory. If he were to die as he lived right now -- small office, enough time to read, few people under his direct command -- he would count it a blessing.
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