[Spirit Class 6 | Hazard C] Srath

» Name: Srath
» Alias:
» Age: 511
» Gender: Female

» Association: None at this time

» Appearance Written: Srath takes the form of a large, drider-like being that stands two meters tall. Bleached white bone-like chitin covering her spider half in large interlocking plates with jagged edges at each seam. Each leg ends in wickedly sharp points, and the chitin of her legs is covered with small, wicked barbs that leak a clear, glistening fluid. Her more ‘humanoid’ half stretches up with jet black skin marred only by her hollow hole in the center of her chest, leading to four slender arms with chitin covering her hands and arms roughly three quarters of the way up, her fingers each ending in wicked claws.

Her mask is a seemingly still image of an unnaturally beautiful face, with four eyes perched above the nose, cold cobalt blue glowing in the center of completely black sclera. The only articulate part of her mask is a strangely intricate carving around what seems to be a closed mouth. The mouth remains closed while she speaks, but when she is angered, or is going to bite, tear, and consume her prey it unfolds into a series of gnashing, cutting pincers and fangs designed to pull whatever they touch into her maw of hideously sharp teeth, glistening with the same clear substance that leaks from the spikes on her legs.

» Appearance Image: N/A


» Personality: Srath is a being that appreciates what she has, but cannot help but crave to be more than she is. She holds herself with pride, truly believing herself to be above the masses, believing herself to have proven her worth and power by virtue of having conquered the countless other souls within herself during her…unfortunately necessary stint as a mere Gillian class Menos. She is quite aware, however, that there are those with power that eclipses hers.

She hates this.

She is bound and determined to be at the top of the food chain, to claw her bloody way to the very peak of evolution, to never be weak again. She is more than happy to use any method to reach this point, and revels in the chance to manipulate and control the situation to her advantage, and revels in the pure rush of exercising her power. Be it through orchestrating someone’s downfall, through the rush of the hunt and the visceral excitement of tearing into her prey and feeling their power feed and supplement her own, or any other way to feel the rush of her own power rushing through herself.

She views others as either potential prey, potential threats, or potential resources to exploit and then assign to one of the previous categories. The concept of equal allies, of friends, is foreign to Srath, the idea of a relationship that is not inherently unbalanced is utterly baffling. She understands the idea of minions, or even a teacher-student relationship, but fully expects betrayal at any possible turn, and expects others to expect the same of her. Perhaps, however, with time and sufficient motivation she could learn.


» History: Srath’s Human life has been lost to her, memories from that time disjointed and incomprehensible. She remembers faceless forms and mocking laughter, surges of emotion, despair, desperation, a fierce joy and relief that burned brightly and briefly before being utterly smothered by an ocean of endless despair and betrayal. She remembers, just before waking up in the sands of Hueco Mundo, feeling the neverending hunger that would become her constant fellow and surrounded by the fading chunks of a horde of hollows she can only assume she’d torn into and devoured, someone, someone she knows that she once trusted, telling her that…something, something that filled her with that sense of betrayal, was her fault for being “too weak”. She doesn’t remember what exactly happened, who this person was, anything more than those vague, painful feelings and impressions, but they were enough. Enough to fill her with a determination that solidified her mind, her identity in this new state of existence.

She would never be weak again.

She spent…she doesn’t know how long she spent wandering between the deserts and the realm of the living. She found herself lost in her hunger more than once, though one of her first goals, as insurmountable as it seemed to be, was to gain some level of control over her hunger. Not because she felt that she had any need to ignore it, or overcome it, but because she wanted to be able to choose her prey. She quickly learned that the prey of others of her kind, the spirits of the living called ‘Pluses’, while tasty, were practically worthless compared to the power, the satiation she gained from eating others of her kind. The stronger, the better.

It took years, she doesn’t know how many but she knows in the meantime roads changed from dirt to cobblestone, torches were replaced by metal poles that smelled of gas and flame, and humanity seemed to explode in population, but she eventually gained the control she wanted. She could keep a helpless plus trapped in her webs for days without giving in, allowing the soul to act as bait to bring in the far more nourishing meals that her fellow hollows represented. And throughout it all she continued to become stronger, to take on stronger and stronger hollows, either through her own strength, or through cunning alone, and with every passing meal, every year, every moment she pushed herself closer and closer to the ideal of strength she craved.

It was during this time that she became aware of other beings of spiritual power that made fine meals. Spirits who had attained power through mastery of their blades and selves, living beings who attacked with arrows of burning light, anathema to her existence and yet so so delicious if she managed to successfully take one for a meal. Humans with power that echoed that of her own kind, tied to objects that they were so very loathe to be parted with, and her personal favorite meal. The Vizard, a delicious fusion of hollow and Shinigami, a cocktail of power and flavor that to even contemplate made her mouth water.

Eventually however, she felt a new instinct, calling her…somewhere. She didn’t know where, but it’s siren call was even stronger than that of her endless hunger, and she found herself following it deep into the sands of Hueco mundo. She found herself, after traveling for an unknown amount of time, among a horde of other hollows. And as she found herself among the seething horde, her hunger suddenly grew, and she understood. This was the next step of power, these Hollows were like her, and now…it was eat or be eaten.

She threw herself into the feeding frenzy, devouring other Hollows even as they attempted to devour her, ignoring such trivial pains as broken legs or fractured chitin, ripping and tearing, her voice became one of thousands in a laughing, sobbing, screaming cacophony of hunger and power. She forgot the concept of time, of physicality, and turned her will to conquering the sea of voices, of minds, of souls around her. In a constant war for her very individuality, and still she felt her hunger echo, but she also felt others, other oceans, other founts of heavy power, and she she craved them. She found herself silencing more and more of the souls within the ocean she found herself in, claiming their power as her own, as she reached for the other oceans, subsuming them, and conquering them as she had her own.

Finally, after an unknowable amount of time, she returned to her senses, felt her body, saw the sands of the desert far far below her, the towering trees of the forest of Menos around her, and saw fading corpses of others of her own kind, of what she had become. She felt power coursing through her newly towering form as a Menos Grande, and she craved more. She knew on some level that the other oceans must have been more Gillian class Menos, but there were none left around her. That she had not already devoured. As she realized this, she suddenly felt her very essence begin to burn, to twist and contort in agonizing ecstasy, her power flaring within her own soul and reshaping it, condensing it, remaking it.

She screamed in blissful fury as her body collapsed in on itself, and left her panting in her new, ever more powerful form. She stretched and looked over the horizon, pleased with her new body, but not content, knowing that still there were those above her, and feeling the craving, the need to surpass even them.

So she set off, ready to stretch her new abilities, learn of her own newly awakened strengths she felt just beneath the surface of her mind, and to plot her continued rise. Over many more years she would continue to travel the deserts, feeling that she was not yet ready for the attention that she would garner from the other races if she were to enter the living world, no matter how badly she craved to taste their souls once again.

That is not to say that she learned nothing of the happenings of the living world, not at all. It was during this time she gained understanding of the usefulness of minions, of beings that she allowed to live under her protection (primarily from herself), in exchange for their acting as her agents. She even learned that there was benefit in taking that role herself at times, to learn from others who thought themselves so far beyond her, only to trap them within her ever expanding webs and devour them when she no longer had anything to gain from pretending to be their underling.

From these memories she learned that mankind had progressed at a frightening pace, horseless carriages and buildings that scraped the heavens, wars and atrocities that put even the deprivations of her own kind to shame, and the gradual merging of the spiritual and physical realms. For many years she continued to gather power, minions, and knowledge, but now, now is the time for her to begin to take the stage.


» Natural Abilities:
Control: While she still feels the pull of hunger, and she is more than happy to sate it, Srath has learned to control it, to keep herself from losing herself entirely to it and to hold off from sating it when it suits her.

Tactician: Srath embodies the idea of the spider she seems to be, happily weaving webs both physical and metaphorical, delighting in the chance to turn situations to her favor, and to manipulate any and everyone around her. She particularly enjoys finding ways to turn allies against each other in the heat of battle.


» Racial Abilities:

Soul-Body Separation: This is a simple racial technique that most, if not all, Hollows have access to. In essence, this ability allows the hollow to separate the living person from their spirits, forcibly dragging their spirit so they can either converse with their loved ones upon turning into a hollow or for more sinister means. Whilst a common racial ability, hollows are usually not found using such an ability as they normally hunt after pluses, rather than living human beings. If desperate enough, however, this can change and the hollow is capable of separating the human spirit from their body. This also means that it is possible for a hollow to extract a shinigami from their gigai, for whatever reason.

Acidic Touch: A rather passive and simple ability for all hollows. In essence, this is the first form of defense for a normal hollow, that if someone were to touch their skin they would be singed and their hands would be eroded and burnt as if acid was poured onto it. It is said this is extremely painful, and actually capable of letting the hollow's reiatsu into the victim's body. Srath also has the ability to push her acidic reiatsu through her fangs or the spikes on her legs to inject it into a victim that she bites or punctures with her legs.

Cero: This is a very powerful and extremely swift blast of energy that can be made by anyone infected by hollows. It has been shown my some Gillian-class hollows to blast even towns apart, their wide array of power being quite scary. As the classes of hollows goes up, the power of their cero is also quite unique and strong. Most cero of basic hollow have shown to be simply red in colour. A cero can also be shot from a variety of locations, each unique to the hollow in question; this can be the tongue, finger tip, fist or even eyeball if one wished.

Veneno Cero: Srath has learned to imbue her Cero with the power of her venom, granting, with extra effort, the effects of her willpower-sapping and paranoia inducing venom into the power of her Cero.

Garganta: The method in which all hollows use to travel between different realms. When in use, a black rift literally tears open the fabric of space to pass through. The most common usage is to travel from Hueco Mundo to the living realm, but users whom are more adept at this could try and use it for different means. Normal hollows only use this as a method of transportation, though. Many of the reasons garganta is a very powerful tool is for it's utility and mass transportation which can hold endless numbers of "foot soldiers" or people within it.

High-Speed regeneration: Generally self explanatory, all hollows are capable of having the ability to regenerate their bodies in a timely manner. It is said that if they have taken drastic damage to organs and vitals, however, they cannot regenerate these easily which makes them still vulnerable depending in their individual characteristics.


» Hollow Power:

Webs: Srath is able to create webs from her own power, tied to her own abilities based on the situation. Explosive threads of silk formed from the seething energy of her Cero that can act as mines or quickly thrown grenades. Burning threads of her acidic blood, that wraps and sticks to the body even as it eats away at their flesh. Webbing as strong as her own body to provide a tough blockade. And even webbing tied to her Garganta, triggering the ability to swallow up prey when triggered.

Venom: The clear fluid that leaks from the spikes on her legs and from her teeth is in truth the progenitor to a very potent venom. This venom is an insidious substance that when injected directly attacks the victims willpower rather than their physical wellbeing, as befitting Sraths enjoyment in the manipulation of her victims. The venom causes auditory hallucinations and massively heightened paranoia, causing rifts and discord to form between even trusted partners, and directly weakening their ability and will to resist Srath’s own machinations.


» Equipment: [If your hollow has any equipment? Put it here. If they don't, skip this section.]


(To Find Out about what these skills are for, please READ THIS THREAD before you try doing anything to it)

General Skills
» Durability: Advanced
» Speed: Adept
» Strength: Advanced
» Martial Skill: Adept

Will Skills
» Willpower: Elite
» Deduction: Adept
» Focus: Adept

Hollow Skills
» Evolution Stage: Elite
» Hollow Power: Advanced
» Mask Protection: Adept
» Cero: Advanced


» Roleplay Sample: TAKEN FROM THE FIRST TWO CHARACTER POSTS I WROTE IN THIS THREAD ON ANOTHER SITE: People Watching
A bell rung brightly as Duana stepped through the door to a small coffee shop, her eyes easily gliding from face to face as she took in the people sitting in the quaint little cafe. The low murmur of conversation filling the air and muffling the click-clack of her heels striking the floor as she made her way to the counter. It somewhat irked her that no one seemed to notice her entrance, everyone far too invested in their own personal conversations and little bubbles of the world, since she'd put in effort to be striking today.

Not that she didn't do so every day, but that wasn't the point.

She was wearing her hair up in an intricate set of braids with fine metal wire threaded through it to make it shine like moonlight across her back, and her favorite ensemble of tight black pants, a rich purple blouse, and a Victorian trench coat trailing in her wake. Her ire lasted only for a brief moment however, and she moved on, reaching the counter. She placed her order in thickly accented Japanese and paid before making her way back out, the tinkling of the bell heralding her exit as she made her way to one of the cafe's outdoor tables.

Idly she pulled out her phone, pulled up an ebook she'd read before, and began to participate in her favorite hobby, people watching. She made sure to keep up an illusion of reading on her phone, scrolling through passages she didn't need to see to know, so as to not tip off the passers by and fellow patrons of the cafe as she read. People tended to be more guarded if they knew they were being watched, and she much preferred to watch people interact without that extra guard. They were already tense enough, watching these people slip in and out of their various social masks, dancing about in an intricate dance of societal expectations and anxiety, it was fascinating.

Idly she began to imagine ways to direct the play of daily life. A salaryman rushing to work, already looking haggard, and a ring on his finger catching the light, what would happen if she slipped a perfume scented note in his bag where his wife would find it? How would he act at work if she slipped him a fake lottery ticket instead and he found it? His shirt had the logo of a fairly well known support company just above a nametag, what if she called his company and reported him for 'embarrassing conduct'? Would the company care? Would his life be ruined, or would he defy the odds and make something more out of himself?

What about any of these people, how could she push, pull, prod, and poke to tear them down, or build them up? What strings would she have to pull to make them pull themselves into ruin?

As she continued to watch the crowds her eyes came to rest on another individual sitting at a different outdoor table for the cafe, a young man, though older than her by the looks of it. Pale, not that she's one to talk, and with a head of wavy, white hair. More importantly she also noticed that there were others noticing him as well, a group of girls at another table, further from him, who would occasionaly gesture his way and then burst into giggles and frantic calls to be quite or "he'd hear them!".

While she schooled her expression Duana internally smirked, she was beginning to have an idea.
All in all, it took barely any time for Duana to finalize her plan, and as the waitress came out with her order she couldn't help but twitch her lips just a little, excited for what was to come, but still careful not to let her internal smirk slip all the way loose. She waited patiently for the waitress to finish her rounds and head back into the cafe, then she made to take a sip of her steaming tea, before frowning. With a huff she pushed herself up and began to march back into the cafe, tea in hand, the perfect picture of a patron who's order had been completely botched (her tea was in fact perfect and Duana would absolutely be returning here at least once before she left the city). Without hesitation she made her way to the counter, and flagged down the waitress who had begun preparing more orders.

When she had the woman's attention she began speaking in a frustrated tone just low enough that the ambient noise of the cafe would prevent anyone from inadvertently hearing her, but not so low as to invite the nosier patrons to try and do so with more effort.

Duana handed the woman her cup with a huff, but didn't let go just yet, "I apologize for the way this looks, but I just noticed an old friend of mine and thought to play a bit of a prank, and the best way was to keep him from noticing was to make it look like I had to get my order replaced. I will of course pay for a whole new cup of tea, which is excellent by the way, but I'd like to make a special request."

Duana carefully slid a wad of paper bills under her fingers to press against the waitress' hand gripping the cup, and she saw her eyes briefly widen at the amount visible, before locking back on Duana's own eyes.

"You'll find that will not only cover the cost of a new cup of tea, but also the cost of one of those...I believe they're called 'cupid cocoas'? The pink hot chocolates with the milk foam covered in little hearts. There should be enough to cover one each for the five girls sitting at the fourth table outside, as well as a sizable tip for yourself-" sizable was an understatement, the tip was easily three times the cost of the whole order, but given the money came from her oh-so-mysterious father who she'd never met, she wasn't too eaten up about using it "-and I want you to bring one to each of those girls, and tell them that they come from the white haired gentlemen sitting alone at the sixth table."

The waitress nodded hesitantly, obviously not sold on the whole idea, but willing to play along at least a little bit to get the tip she could just feel under her fingers, but when she went to pull the mug and the money away Duana held firm, though she did let the money slip just enough to give the waitress a better idea of how much she stood to earn from this, "Ah-ah-ah, I need you to swear that you'll maintain silence on my part of this? I'll tell him after we both leave, but I don't want you ruining the prank early darling."

The waitress looked Duana deep in the eyes, ignoring the still manufactured tone of annoyance that Duana was using, and tried to search her for...honesty? Duana honestly didn't know, though she found it funny either way. She'd learned to hide her true intentions from people far more perceptive than this woman. Apparently she passed whatever test the waitress was putting her under however, and the woman nodded more firmly and pulled the cup away, swiftly pocketing the money before anyone could get a good look at it.

She bowed and spoke in a contrite tone, "Of course ma'am, I'm so sorry for our mistake, I'll make sure we get your order taken care of exactly to your wishes."

Duana snorted, continuing to play up her act, "See that you do." And with that, she turned and stormed out of the cafe and back to the table.

Now all she had to do was wait.