Azrael Newbie
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| Subject: Azrael [WIP] Sun Dec 30, 2012 5:00 am | |
| Basic Information: - Spoiler:
Name: Azrael
Nickname: The Heartless Wonder
Age: Azrael has the distinct age of 1234 but he appears to be in his mid-twenties roughly around the age of 22 through 25
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Species: Arrancar
Former Classification: Vasto Lorde
Weapon(s): N/A
Number:
Aspect of Death: Apathy/Nihilism
Personality:
“What is this “heart”? If I tear open that chest of yours, will I see it there? If I smash open that skull of yours, will I see it there?” Words Azrael once heard his former mentor and 4th Espada Ulquiorra Cifer speak to a human girl. T hese very words could sum up how Azrael views the world and the life in it. Calm, calculating, cold, and callous among other things make up the mind and being that is Azrael. Even before he met Ulquiorra, Azrael held an apathetic outlook on life. Meeting someone who shared his same views only reinforced what he thought and believed. “You can’t change who you are, accept fate and die.”
“There is always the calm before the storm...” Azrael walks through life with a content and rather unbothered demeanor. He tends to not worry about the things that must be worried for and never shows emotions. Under normal times, situations or when he is around others Azrael will wear a bored blank expression upon his face. Most if not all the time Azrael will not speak, choosing to listen and observe instead. He believes you can tell more by ones actions then their words; “For the mouth can tell a lie that the body cannot hide.” Being not much of a talker, Azrael tends to stay in his own thoughts when it comes to things he’s witnessed or observed. Upon the rare occasion that he will engage in a conversation it has to be something that interests him greatly.
“The storm is coming…run...” Cold and calculating go hand and hand when it comes to Azrael. His cold demeanor and lack of emotions allows him to stay calm and level headed in everything he does. Because of that he is never caught off guard, surprised, or bewildered. The cold lifeless demeanor also gives him the gift of being very perceptive, because he doesn’t have anything to cloud or affect his judgment. Add all those in with his above average observation skills and you get a mind like no other. A mind that is over analytical to the point that he trusts nothing and no one; “My eyes tell me all I need to know and more than your words could ever say.”
“Monster, this storm is a monster...” Many Arrancar around Hueco Mundo see the way Azrael carries himself as looking down upon them or that he believes he is superior. This very well may be true, though Azrael would never say it out loud. In any other case the Arrancar would attack and devour such a being but not in Azraels case. If they were to attack they know that would be the end of their lives. In battle Azrael holds no remorse or mercy for his enemies; “Killing is a necessary tool when you enter battle, for all battles end in death. Wither it be friend or foe makes no difference to me or my blade.” He is a ruthless, brutal, sadistic machine who will cut down any and all things that stand in his way. He views his “friends” as expandable and should they stand or get in his way he will cut them down as well. No hesitation or second thought given.
“It’s over the storm has gone back to sleep...” Wrapped up in all that is Azrael and his nihilistic attitude there is always a hint of laziness. The laziness weighs in on two different fronts. The first is when it comes to what Azrael can almost always be found doing; star gazing. A trait picked up from his very first trip to the human world with his mentor many years ago. Azrael saw a few humans laying down the beach looking up to the sky. Finding this rather strange Azrael tilted his head towards the sky. Unlike the lifeless night sky of Hueco Mundo, the human world was filled with tiny bright lights. The humans were mesmerized by the sight but so was Azrael, he had never laid his eyes on such beauty. From that point on star gazing became his number one past time; “Pure beauty filled in a world of destruction, does it cause you pain to look down and see it all?” As his star gazing grew so did his tendencies to sleep: finding it rather relaxing to sleep under the stars. When not star gazing, Azrael can be found sleep. The second front of laziness comes in with how he moves. Azrael doesn’t like to be rushed, and will normally move at a slow not so steady pace. Majority of the time he will take his time doing things, and will not move any faster than he has too.
Physical Appearance:
Hard pressed to give even a semblance of a fuck on even his best days, Azrael’s appearance often matches his nonchalantly apathetic personality. Despite his outwardly young appearance, his shoulder-length hair bears the salt-and-pepper coloring of old age, onyx black streaked with silver and the occasional hint of tawny gold. More often than not he leaves it unstyled in a mess of spikes reminiscent of a man who has just rolled out of someone else’s bed; the sort of careless, hand-tousled look that drives women wild despite their cries for ‘well-groomed’ men. To make matters worse—or better, depending upon your outlook—Azrael’s twenty-some years young body stands at an even six feet with a slender weight of approximately one hundred and sixty five well developed pounds of muscle and flesh. His eyes often catch the most attention, despite being half-lidded or closed for the majority of the time, being a striking, caramelized amber hue in a face of granite (both in expression and color).
As monochrome as the man himself, Azrael’s outfit of choice differs from most Arrancar in that it is in an inverted color scheme: black with white accents rather than the other way around. Like most of his kind, he prefers loose fitting apparel made from light, flowing cloth. His hakamas, black as the night sky, hang low on his hips, revealing the v-shaped dip of his pelvis. The jacket he wears is cut from the same cloth, though it resembles a more modern style of clothing with long sleeves and no belt. He opts, most of the time, not to wear a shirt beneath his jacket, often too lazy to pick one out and with nothing to hide on his near flawlessly sculpted torso. For shoes, he chooses white tabi with black zōri, all but hidden under his low-hanging pants. His only other accessories consist of a set of leather necklaces hanging about his neck at all times, even when he sleeps.
Bio:
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