'Wild Luke'- Cero Espada

Name:
Lucas O'Cuinn

Nickname:
Wild Luke

Age:

• Arrancar: 11 Months Old
  Hollow: 150 Years

Gender: Male

Weapon(s):
Zanpakutō

Number:
0/10

Personality:
Wild Luke is a jolly spirit. He's much like Kenpachi Zaraki in a sense; he loves duels, possibly more than anyone alive. The rush he gets when he's fighting, it just sends shivers shootin' up and down his spine like the days when he was one of the famous, "Shootin' Bandits". He's generally a kind and honorable man. He'll help others if he asks for a favor, and will never attack a downed opponent. He doesn't really have any reason to fight, other than for the sake of fighting. He has no loved ones around, nor does he have anything else to live for. What he seeks is merely the next duel, and where he can get a pitcher of whiskey. He has a soft spot for kids, but if one pulls a gun on him, he'll only give the kid a few chances before he opens fire. He's a strong soul, and a compassionate one, but he's a man who doesn't take shit from anyone.

Physical Appearance:
Luke has a homely look about him; he looks like a man that would be easy to get along with, to trust, even to be friends with. He constantly has stubble on his face, with weary, brown eyes. His hair is somewhat long, though not long in the sense of being down to his shoulders. It only goes to the bottom of his jaw, and is parted down the middle. Accompanying his stubble is a very thin mustache, and a little bit of hair beneath his lower lip. His eyes are sharp, though not cruel. He actually bears quite the resemblance to a well-known actor of today; Johnny Depp. He has various scars across his body, having stayed with him from when he was a human for some reason.

His clothing choice is similar to most Espada, but yet different. He retains the white and black color scheme, but rather than a jacket, he wears a long, flowing coat that's white with black trim. His hat is completely white, while he wears black pants and a black vest underneath, a white long-sleeved shirt underneath the vest. He wears plain white boots that never seem to get dirty, with silver spurs on the back. Sometimes he wears black, finger-less gloves, but it's not unless he's about to get into a fight, or knows he has a dirty job to do.

The remnants of his hollow mask are a black and white bandana-looking bone that seem to pool about most of his neck. His hollow hole is located directly in the center of his neck. A wooden gun is in a holster at his side; but it looks realistic, so no one can tell if it's real or not.

Bio:
'Wild Luke' O'Cuinn was a good kid growing up. He lived in North America in the 1800's, around the Gold Rush age. He helped work on the family farm, all the way up until he was a man. He lived with his parents for a little while; working to get enough money for a place, and a big, beautiful band for his girl, Clara Wilks. One day, as he was out with the cattle, watching over them as they grazed, the local gang came in and shot the town up all kinds of hole; hell, he'd even say it looked like some of the Swiss Cheese rich folk had.

Anywho, back to the story, Luke's family had been slaughtered like pigs, his woman had strung herself up in her own hidey-hole, believing Luke to be dead. Luke, angered and grief-ridden, was infuriated when the law enforcement in the nearby town did nothing, as they were a bunch 'a money-grubbers who were waiting for their nasty paws to be filled with the gang's blood money. Well, ol' Luke didn't exactly handle this well. In his own act of revenge, he single-handedly swore vengeance against those that murdered his family, and those that refused to do anything.

He took up his father's old Winchester six-shooter, and joined the Banditos for a while. He eventually broke off, and formed his own gang, the "Shootin' Bandits." Not a very creative title, no, but it was what he liked, and that's what they were. Now, to Luke's death. He was shot one day, directly in his heart, as he had a showdown with the Sheriff that did nothing for his family. It was sundown, and the Sheriff had agreed. Luke would take the sheriff's life, or the Sheriff would take Luke's life and ownership of the gang. They both had itchy fingers, as they waited for the call. When the word was yelled, they both reached as quick as they could for their trusty weapons.

Luke pulled his fast, and aimed true. He shot the gun from the Sheriff's hands, and had planted a bullet directly into his heart. Well, the sneaky ol' Sheriff had another plan in mind. He had sent one of his deputies to hide in the shadows, and shoot good ol' Luke in the chest. The bullet came from behind, but it pierced straight through his shoulder bone and into his heart nonetheless. He asked his compadre's to bury him next to the love of his life, with his father's trusty Winchester, his last dying breath being taken from him as he said his goodbye's to his brothers-in-arms.

Luke didn't pass on like everyone he had known. No, instead, he wandered for a little while, surprised to find his old six-shooter on his spiritual body. Eventually, he was taken by a Hollow, and changed. Well, he didn't mind this. It was a new adventure to the young cowboy. He fought his way through countless Hollow's eventually rising to Adjucha level. It was here, he was found by the Queen of Hueco Mundo. She offered him a spot amongst her beloved Arrancar, and he accepted, purely so he had a purpose and wasn't randomly shootin' up the place. Now, he's here, as the Cero Espada. Being a man of surprises, Luke's kept the fact that he was also the Cero Espada a secret, and asked that the Queen and Second-in-Command didn't give away the info, so that he wouldn't be treated more than he actually was.

Due to this, Luke remains relatively mysterious to those who don't know him.

Zanpakutō

Name:
Pistolero

Sealed form:
The sealed form is that of a lasso and a knife, attached to Luke's belt. The rope seems to be infinitely long, though it is not impossible to escape once lasso'ed. The lasso seems to be made of some tough cord, and burns slighty upon impact, as if it's on fire. The knife seems to be a rather ordinary hunting knife, but is in fact the physical manifestation of his zanpaku-to.

Resurrección:
Resurrección:
At first, Luke grows two more pairs of arms to accompany his first pair, his torso becoming longer. In order to active his Resureccion, Luke must pull the bandana up to cover his mouth. As soon as the bandana is around his mouth, a corrosive shockwave shakes the area, causing most plant life nearby to begin to wither. Most smaller critters, such as birds, squirrels, etc, die nearly immediately, while normal-sized beings begin to feel either; A. Extremely queasy. They may be prone to vomiting if they have a weak stomach. B. Dreadful. As in, they will begin feeling a sense of dread upon the release of Luke's Resureccion.

The flesh on Luke's body turns grey, and even begins to rot in some places. His clothing begins to gain a worn look, moth-eaten and torn in some places. Some of the flesh even falls off of Luke's body, revealing internal organs or the muscle structure underneath; this makes Luke's appearance similar to a very old zombie's. The smell of rot begins to come off of himself, and sickens those who come near. (Unless such a thing does not affect them, of course.)

Call out phrase:
Keep my aim steady, Pistolero!

Ability:
Six guns appear that shoot a physically manifested form of Luke's reishi. There are also various techniques he can perform with the guns, and even the lasso. The knife stays in its form, and doesn't seem to change whatsoever. The bullets fired are special, and not like ordinary bullets at all. They have a special piercing quality that lets them easily blast through most surfaces. Of course, depending on the strength, the impact was lessened by far. It wasn't the strength at which the bullets were fired, but rather more along the lines of how many were fired at a time, seeing as a bullet is fired each turn. The downside is that on the sixth turn a bullet from a gun is fired, Luke needs to 'put bullet's back in' for a turn, by gathering more nearby reishi and physically pushing it in with his thumb.

Techniques:

Weave and Bob- In this technique, Luke keeps his top set of hands free of guns. With this, he is able to fire while simultaneously running, jumping over objects, (At the climax of his jump, of course.) doing a flip, etc.

Let It Rain, Baby- Luke unleashes a multitude of shots into the air, which come down two posts later as a type of rain. They strike randomly, but unless the character is in cover, they are likely to get hit. The whistling on the turn before they come down is a signifying factor that you need to take cover.

Charge Shot- Like the Quincies, Luke can take reishi from the surrounding area. This is then channeled through his body, and into his guns. After two or three turns, he can unleash two devastating shots from one pistol, or one shot from two pistols.

I'm Packing One Hell of a Punch- With this technique, Luke puts away one of his guns from each set of hands. He then takes his knife, and cuts one of the palms on each set. Usually, if the palms are cut, and a cero is to be performed, it would turn into a Gran Ray Cero. Instead, Luke smears the muzzle of his gun in his blood, before firing. This produces a shot equivalent to the Gran Ray Cero. plus his gunshot's. It takes a six-turn cooldown; a turn for each hand that had been used.

We'll Do This Fair 'n Square, Partner- This technique is more of an issue of a challenge, than anything. If the enemy accepts, the two stand across from each other and wait five seconds. In this five seconds, they are to analyze each other's movements, and attempt to predict where they will go. This is a move that takes one turn to complete, the next part available on the next turn.

My Trigger Finger's Itchy- This is the second part of, WDTFS, listed above. This technique is used when the five seconds are up. Both him and the enemy draw their weapons, (Which are forced into their sheath's/holder's during WDTFS), and attack with their utmost strength.

Role-play sample: Sundown. It was sundown, and the Sheriff still wasn't here yet. The dusty old town sat sleepily atop a mountain crest, looking as if it might roll off the hill at any moment; like the tumbleweed's that always passed through this town, aptly named, "Deadwood". It looked almost Spanish-influenced in Culture. Some of the building's were little more than bungalows that seemed to be made of sand, due to their tan color; others seemed to be made of sandstone blocks that some of the Mexican's down south favored.

"That dead meat better be here soon," a man from behind our current protagonist shouted. Let's take off, as if we were on wings. Now we're soaring through the air, and the whole landscape is visible below us. It's rocky, and somewhat sandy. There is vegetation, sure, though it seems to be the only kind that could thrive in the heat. Various animals, we could see frolicking in the sand; some, hunting for a meal, others, just for the sake of playing in the sand. There's a pack of coyote's hunting down a hare, and another eagle, watching that same hare the coyote's looking to get; no doubt to snatch its prey from him so the large bird could feast himself.

Down to the South of Deadwood, lies another small village, though slightly bigger than our own. Light's flicker in the window's of the towns over there; it appears to be a lot higher class, judging by their tiled outside floors, more shapely looking homes, and even the larger amount of horses that are tied to posts. Looking North a little bit, and there seems to be a grand river of some kind; leading up to what only our Protagonist would know, was his birth home. On the east, we have fierce mountains that look almost like fingers, reaching to the sky, attempting to snuff out the sun. Let's go back now, and perch on one of the tie posts for horses, and continue watching the exchange.

Our man, known as "Wild Luke" of Coulee County, seems like a patient man. He's leaning against the wall to a bar, a cigarette in his mouth, one leg crossed over the other. Yeah, he's the definition of cool in this day and age. His hat's tipped down a bit, hiding his eyes. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that every few seconds he'd breathe a puff of smoke, you might think he was sleeping. No, he was waiting. Waiting for the moment he could get the man who refused to help him when his family was dying. The Sheriff of Coulee County. Perhaps his little Sister, at least, who had been dying when he brought her here, might have been saved. No, not only did the Sheriff refuse help for them, he ran them out of town. Luke had the heart-breaking pleasure of watching his younger sister's life be snuffed out in his very arms.

Since that day, Luke was a changed man. No longer was he the fun bull-wrangler that everyone that was once alive knew him as. No, he became a cowboy, hell-bent on vengeance. He had become a desperado, a gunslinger. It was a shame, a youth such as himself turned in such a vile way. But evil is infectious in men's hearts. One man's evil may pass onto another bright youth, and turn him into a decrepit shadow of his former self.

It was time. A man, one of his men, blew the horn. It was a deep sound, sounding like spit upon our bird-like ears. The one known as "Wild Luke" flicked his cigarette from his mouth onto the ground, as he pushed off from the wall, stepping on that same smoke he was inhaling as he walked by. Now that he wasn't so covered in shadow, we get a better look at this man; this hero of the people, and menace to society. He wears a hat, like much of the cowboys do in this time and age. He looks calm and steady, but inside of his eyes burns the flames of one thousand volcanoes, or to put it simpler, a smoldering anger at this man who was walking before him. His chin stubble stuck out, and he had a scar on his face, making him look even tougher than without. He wore a black vest over a long-sleeved white shirt, with a pair of tan chaps, minus all that girly frill that a lot of men wore nowadays.

Hair stuck out from beneath the hat, slicked back and going down the side and back of his head. Determined. That was the best way to describe how this man looked right now. He looked like a man ready to kill. The man in front of him, compared to this man we just inspected, looked pathetic. Overweight, bald-headed, and wearing a cap too small for him. Those were probably the things one would notice first. He tried pulling off the same look that Luke did, what with the vest, and the pants, but it just made him look sloppy. His clothes were too tight, his handle-bar mustache was graying; this looked like a man that was nearly impossible to respect. The evil glint in his eye made it more evident.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the outlaw, Wild Luke." He says, tweaking that same mustache of his, his bulging belly bouncing with every step he took. Luke looked in disgust at the man, as he turned his head and spit the saliva that was in his mouth.

"You know my deal, Partner. You got my letter." Luke said, practically growling out the words, as his hands stayed close to the pistol at his side. The outlaw looked as if he were just itching to pull the gun out. Meanwhile, as they were standing, a group of people lined up at their sides, watching the showdown that was to take place at sundown. Men, mostly. Women watched from the shutter's of the local bar, or the doors of their own home. Somewhere that they considered safe. Unbeknownst to them, their kid's were usually watching from a window or some other see-through object where their mother's couldn't see them; after all, this was the first duel with a Sheriff that had been recorded in the town.

"Alright, then. Go on, scumbag." He said, before nodding at a man. The man was obviously a deputy, judging by the silver star on his jacket, that we failed to notice on the Sheriff. He raised his gun, barrel to the air. Five seconds was all they would be given. That was time enough. He watched the eyes of the Sheriff in front of him, waiting to see what he would do. His eyes flicked to Luke's right leg, then his chest. So that's where he was going? Very well. Luke knew he could counter that easily. If it were something less complicated, like his chest, then it would be harder to counter.

A gunshot! And both contestants were off. Luke pulled his gun from its holster, as the Sheriff did the same. However, Luke appeared to have an itchier trigger finger. A slight twitch of his index finger, and a sound like thunder erupted into his ears. Metal clashed with metal. With a sound of amazement from the crowd, the gun was sent flying from the Sheriff's hands. A look of shock crossed the overweight man's face, fear accompanying it. He hadn't expected Luke to be so good, and now he was going to lose his life to that underestimation. Beads of perspiration broke out on the face of the man who knew for sure he was about to lose his life.

With one more pull of the trigger, another final bullet was let loose to fly, piercing the Sheriff directly between his eyes. All at once, his eyes glassed over, and he began falling backwards. Luke stood there, his gun smoking, as he brought it up to his face, blowing the smoke from the barrel. He put it in its holster, ready to turn, before a glint shone in his eyes. A gun! He tried to jump out of the way, but it was too late. A shot rang through the air, as a bullet pierced through his shoulder plate, and into his heart.

With a start, the man formerly known as "Wild Luke" woke up, seeing trees all around. That's right, that was his former life. He was something different now... a monster... Luke looked at the Forest of Menos, watching all of the Hollow's nearby, fighting, but keeping their distance from him. He remembered now... a dream, it had all been a dream. He had been the bird, watching his own death. He was stuck with this cursed existence as a Hollow. He looked up, seeing two shadow's coming his way; two females, specifically, one of whom he would later found out was the Queen of Hueco Mundo.