Arrancar Rafael Balam App [APPROVED, 4-1]

• Name: Rafael Balam
• True Age: 822 Years
• Appearance Age: 26 Years
• Gender: Male
• Orientation: Formerly part of Aizen’s army, currently adrift in Hueco Mundo





• Appearance: Rafael is a tall, moderately muscled man with unkempt, violet hair the cascades over his right eye. His skin is fair in color and his irises are bright, golden-yellow. His nails are always dyed black. A red stripe runs vertically over each eyes from his hairline to his cheekbones. He wears an open, white coat with a black interior and a broad collar. The sleeves only extend to his elbows, but he wears black fingerless gloves that extend well up his biceps. A thick, black sash keeps his white hakama in place. The hakama covers a pair of black trousers and most of his black boots, the latter of which are bound by a series of silver-white cords. Another sash runs diagonally from his left shoulder, which is used to hold his scabbard.

• Bone Appearance: Rafael’s mask covers from the nose down and appears like a full set of jaws. There are openings over his nostrils, allowing him to breathe. The chin is excessively pronounced into a needle-like spine, and while the canines in the mask’s teeth are also pronounced, the difference is not as drastic.

• Hollow Hole: He has a gaping hole over his sternum which measures about eight inches in diameter.

• Reiatsu Colour: Prior to his Resurrecciòn, his reiatsu appears red like most Arrancar. However, upon releasing, it becomes black with tinges of dark green.





Personality: Rafael can be described as cold, shrewd, and out-spoken on the surface. Whether conversing with allies or fighting for his life against a foe, he is always looking to glean information. Namely, any cracks in their armor which he may exploit, should the need arise. He tends to naturally assume others will turn on him when he is no longer of use, or when he proves too potent. Despite his suspicions, he is not one to remain silent when he notices a flaw in a strategy. Rafael simply prefers to approach things with a level-head. As such, he tends to avoid showing his emotions (the mask kind of helps with that). Most of all, he hates to waste time and effort. This causes him to be very blunt with his criticism, and to aim for the first decisive strike in a battle. Despite his willingness to criticize and preference to be direct, he will more-often speak in a respectful manner, especially to those he believes deserve it.

However, this icy shell shields a more compassionate soul. Even if he sets barriers between himself and others, those who manage to break through will find themselves in the company of a loyal friend and ally. Even if they are not on good terms, he will put himself at risk to defend those who fight alongside him and his ideals. Opponents may also find themselves within his good graces on occasion. This only occurs when they prove challenging and he feels they would better serve him as a whetstone than another corpse. Such individuals will often receive a word of cryptic and generalized advice. Granted, he will never jeopardize a mission or his comrades’ lives for the sake of keeping a potential rival in-play.





• History:

Life and Death

He could remember, yet he couldn’t at the same time. It was like trying to see yourself through a foggy mirror. He remembers standing there, the gray skies looming above while their purity descended in cold flakes upon his head and shoulders. There was a slight pressure around his arm. Another limb was looped around his own, a different fabric clad around paler flesh. He could see the silky dark hair, and yet the face was overshadowed. Oh, how the image haunts him, to know there was happiness yet not know why or how. No sound emerged as her lips moved. All was drowned in silence.

The image fades into darkness. He could feel the cold against his skin as only a pale, ephemeral light permeates the chamber he sat within. Empty bottles were strewn across the floor, and on the nightstand to his side rests an image. The frame was splintered, the glass patterned like a spider’s web by its ruptures, and lying on its back. A knock on his door. He would have to answer, despite his sorry state. Behind the portal of wood and bronze stood a figure he could not identify, even if his vision were clear in this reminiscence. More cold, but a cold that burned his abdomen. A slow glance down to his stomach revealed the weapon which pierced his flesh, and the red which dyed his white shirt. Darkness engulfs his view yet again.

New Beginning

When he awoke again, he could see his home before him. That towering hive of abodes stood proud despite its short stature in comparison to its brethren. All around him, he could see the night-life abuzz. Crowds drifted across the pavement among the golden lights which guided them. Blaring lights of automobiles soared past as the engines bellow like great beasts. Most notably, was the chain dangling from his chest. In a fit of panic, he screamed out for help. For hours he cried out in a pitiful manner which could only be performed by one in their most desperate hour. When his mind cleared, a thought had arisen in the recesses of his brain: "They cannot hear me. They cannot see me. I am gone."

Weeks would pass. He would always remain where he was, huddled against a wall of his old home. He would smile when he remembered the good, and weep when he remembered the bad. If only he had been able to talk to someone. Perhaps things would have transpired differently? But history cannot be rewritten, and thus his misery would continue. The pain ate away inside of him, especially when he recalled his final hours. That emptiness became more apparent day by day and he needed so desperately to fill this growing void. Had his chain been that short before…?

A Different View

Much of his time was a blur. Frightened faces, hardened scowls of disapproval, screams of pain, contorted features straining to release their stifled pleas, silence, hunger. If he had a brow anymore, it would’ve been furrowed as he contemplated the meaning of such an existence. He was, much like the creature he knew he resembled, a sting of death. He had long forgotten what he was like after he fell into despair, much less when his thoughts had joined with a multitude of others. Yet he overcame. He saw. He conquered. He adapted. His multi-eyed gaze descends upon the body before him, mangled and nearly gone. His latest conquest on these pale sands. They were not as appetizing as the humans he had devoured before, especially not like those garbed in black. How sweet their fear tasted after he had removed the condescending glares or smug smiles. But this beastly creature would have to do. Besides, he felt revitalized after consuming these.

Suddenly, the sands shifted beneath his many claws. Someone approached, scavengers seeking his claim perhaps? No matter. They would meet the same fate. Or so he thought. The men in black robes? Here?

"How fortunate, for me."

He burrowed into the sands, his straightened tail waiting to snap at the prey as they approached. Every step seemed like a hundred years to his empty stomach. Yes, closer, closer. The time was ripe. Now, he must strike. But instead of the grunt of one who had been afflicted by his venom, he heard the clash of metal. His tail had been intercepted by the flat of a blade. No matter, he would just have to handle this the violent way.

The next several minutes were a blur between sparks flying from their colliding attacks, and the spilling of his own blood. How could these measly creatures not have obtained a single scratch from his flurry of blows? His frustration was made evident in his guttural growls and gnashing mandibles. Yet he was tired. Perhaps he could retreat into the sands, stray away from these fearsome opponents. But fate was not with him, and darkness clouded his vision before he could put his new plan into action.

How long had he been trapped? A day? A week? A month? A year? He couldn’t tell. He grew tired of the darkness. So many times it had blocked his eyes and allowed his thoughts to roam. Back to the faint, indistinct flashes of another life. Just when he was prepared to thrust his claws outward, light broke through the darkness. He found himself collapsed upon his knees. Disoriented, his eyes part open and he takes in his surroundings.

“What is your name?” He heard. His gaze arises to peer at three figures. They seemed familiar, but only vaguely. “What is your name?” The man in the center, dressed in white, bearing fair skin and auburn hair slicked back across his cranium, asked again. Looking down upon the floor, he repeated the question within his head, rifling through his thoughts for answers. As soon as he found what he sought, his mouth, barricaded by a bone visage, opened and transmitted his thoughts.

“Rafael… Rafael Balam.”

Centuries Ago

His eyes part open, gazing skyward to the crescent moon as the wind tosses his ragged cloak around himself. His old uniform was still pristine as when that man, Sosuke Aizen, had given it to him.

"400 years… So much time has gone by," he thought as he slowly walked forward. Since his “rebirth”, he had mostly spent his time learning to use the sword he now wielded along with his newfound powers, all inside a marvel of architecture, the only building across this barren waste. Las Noches, that’s what it was called. In time, those who felt they had something to prove or were in a position of power had begun to move about. He had no interest, even as Aizen’s 84th Arrancar soldier. Getting into fights would not keep him alive, especially not when he knew nothing of the foes he would face. Survival was priority, and if he was to survive, he’d need to choose his battles carefully and hone his skills. Which is why he kept his distance and stuck to the shadows as his brethren began to rush to their deaths.

When the fighting had passed, he slipped out of the palace and entered the desert once again. He knew where he needed to go in order to stay out of the Soul Reapers’ sights and improve himself. The Menos Forests, home of hundreds of Gillians. The perfect targets to practice upon.

For a time, things entered a placant state for Rafael. His practice and evolution continued on with little-to-no incidents. Yet he knew full well, the world was tumultuous. Through the gossip of Adjuchas and other intelligent Hollows, he had learned of the immense war occurring beyond his world. As tempted as he was to engage in these affairs, he did not feel fully prepared. More time was needed.

"That time, is now," the Arrancar mused. Now, nearly 300 years after the Third World War’s beginning, he would set foot back into the world. His plans would be put into action, and he would instill fear into the hearts of humans, living or dead. The white sands of Hueco Mundo shift beneath his feet as he proceeds onward, the old palace of Las Noches looming on the horizon ahead.

• Sealed Zanpakutô: In its sealed state, Alacrán takes the form of a claymore. The blade is a dark silver with a brighter guard. In contrast, the grip is dark with a pommel made of the same material as the blade. The blade itself measures 50 inches (127 centimeters), 3 inches (7.61 centimeters) wide, and half of an inch (1.27 centimeters) thick while the grip is 13 inches (33 centimeters) long, and 2 inches (5.08 centimeters) in diameter.

• Racial Abilities:
Cero: Rafael is able to release a large beam of materialized reiatsu in a given direction, ususally where he points an open palm.

Bala: Rafael can project powerful, condensed spheres of reiatsu to release at an enemy in rapid succession.

Hierro: Rafael possesses a layer of skin hardened by his reiatsu which protects him from some strikes. However, a powerful or heavy swing will pierce through his defenses.

Sonido: Rafael is able to move at immense speeds, seeming to disappear. He can only move short distances with this skill, but is able to use it several times before he tires.

Perquisa: Rafael is exceptionally perceptive, able to detect reiatsu and gauge the strength of his opponents from a few miles away.

Garganta: Rafael is able to open a gateway from Hueco Mundo to other parts of the universe, mostly the human world or the Dangai. He can also use these portals to projects images of events occurring, should he have need.

• Unique Abilities:
Hierro Build-Up: Rafael can form “callouses” by building up his Hierro in a specific region. Most often, this is used to thicken an expected point-of-impact for a blow that would pierce his Hierro. However, he has also been known to use this power to create instantaneous wrist-blade (Think Assassin’s Creed) to impale a target with. As these are merely an extension of a shell and not a part of his body, he feels no pain when the blades or plates are broken. This factor also allows him to remove the blades and use them as projectile weapons at any given time.





• Resereccion Name: Alacrán (Spanish for Scorpion)

• Resereccion Release Phrase: Petrify, Alacrán

• Release Actions: Rafael raises the sword vertically in front of him, ensuring the edge faces away from himself. He then uplifts his left hand and places the palm against the cold steel before uttering the Release Phrase. At this point, he in engulfed in a whirlwind of ash which then settles and descends like snow to unveil his Released Form.

• Resereccion Appearance: His entire body, at least below his nose, is encased in white, plated armor. Small spines protrude from the shoulders, shins, and pectoral regions. The armor has a large hole where his Hollow Hole lies. The suit also has sharp talons around his fingers and toes, and scythe-like blades protrude from the back of his forearms. These are made of Hierro and measure about two feet in length. Both claws and blades originate as white, but progressively become black as they near the tips. There are three lines of sharp nodes protruding along his back. Most notably, a large, segmented tail sprouts from his waistline. This tail is approximately six feet long, a foot thick, and ends with a proportionate spear-head. His sclera become black when he enters this state.

• Resereccion Abilities:
Enhanced Hierro: Rafael’s former Hierro becomes immensely more durable, now able to withstand several Bala or low-level Kido attacks in rapid succession with inconsequential damage. However, a powerful Cero will deal severe damage.

Loss of Agility: Due to his armor’s weight, he cannot make use of Sonido and his flexibility is noticably reduced.

Veneno (Spanish for Venom): The spear of Rafael’s tail when Released is filled with a seemingly infinite supply of fast-acting neurotoxin. When injected, the poison will temporarily disconnect the afflicted nerves from the victim’s nervous system, inducing paralysis. The range of effect varies based on dosage: a single jab to the hand will cause only that hand to become paralyzed, but if he continues to inject venom for sixty seconds without removal, the target will be completely paralyzed. He can circumvent this limitation by directly severing the brain’s connection. This is accomplished by piercing the head or neck and injecting the toxin there. The venom’s effects last for an hour without treatment. The venom can only be analyzed while its effects are active, as it dilutes into the bloodstream to the point of being untraceable when its effects end.

Cero Absoluto: A specialized technique where Rafael either simultaneously fires a Cero from both arms, or his maw and tail. The energies can be positioned in separate directions, allowing him to eliminate multiple targets swiftly.
Burrowing: Rafael will use his blades or Ceros to swiftly tear holes in the ground, then dive below to evade visual detection. While this does not eliminate his spiritual pressure, he can use this trick to swiftly strike his opponents from below. This is especially useful when he has an ally to distract the opponent from his presence.





General Skills

• Durability: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• General Speed: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Strength: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Weapon Skill: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  

Will Skills

• Willpower/Determination: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Mental Deduction: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Pain Endurance: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Focus: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  

Racial Skills

• Perquisa: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Sonido: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Cero/Bala: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  
• Hierro: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
  

• RP Sample:
The lean male stands aside, by the northwestern wall of this austere chamber as others gather and proceed with their discussion. His spine was pressed back against the vertical surface behind him with both of his arms overlapping one another just before his bare chest –the left arm appearing dominant despite his more-frequent use of his right –and the empty void which indicated he was, indeed, an Arrancar. The flesh of his eyelids descends only a couple of centimeters over the golden orbs as he listens in on the debate. The digits of his right hand silently pound in a rhythmic beat against the sleeve covering his left biceps, yet he does not ordain his voice necessary just yet. Behind the mask of bone which shields the lower-half of his face, Rafael’s lips part to release a short, hushed breath.
“Is that all?”