Typhon, the Dark Child of Ra [Approved 2-1+]

Name: Typhon

Appearance Age: 20
Possible True Age: 300
Possible Gender: Male

Hollow type: Adjuchas

Personality:





||Serious||


Few beings are as serious as Typhon is. He takes
everything that happens around him in with all his possible focus and observes
well. He looks about him and notices what is happening at all times so that he
is always ready to react. He never wavers in his mission and has the grit not
to stop until either his mission is complete or he is dead. Even if unable to
move, he will do EVERYTHING in his power to move, until he bleeds out.


||Determined||


He
survives by action. He will always, always complete his goal. His mission is
the most important thing to him, since it gives him a sense of life. When he
has purpose, he is something that matters to the world. When he does not, he
wonders and acts like a lost sheep, unsure what to do. He will finish his task
to the last and do whatever his orders are to the letter, no matter what the
command is.


||Quiet||


He is a
very quiet person, talking only when spoken too or when he deems it necessary.
He has a small voice, but it sounds like a ringing blade being drawn from its
hilt, so potent does it sound. He doesn’t try to impose himself upon others,
but only observes everything around
himself. His attacks are silent, his movements also. He makes it his business
to be quiet, making his jobs easier.


||Hatred and Hated||


He hates
anything alive. He is intelligent to understand what happened when he became a
Hollow, and resents it immensely. At one point in his death he repeatedly
attempted to die again, but was not able to find anything that would truly do
the job. So, he made another decision about his life instead. He decided to
help as many of his fellow Hollows escape there torture as they are. He
destroys them, releasing them from their curse, not consuming them. Of course,
he understands the Arrancar as well, and desires to be one. They are more than
pain and rage and nothing but instinct. They had intact minds that helped them
in ways he could only dream of. He does not interact much with them.


|| A Weakness? Or Pure Sadism? ||


However,
Typhon does have a personal code. He refuses to finish off anything that could
survive again, since he knows that they could go through more pain, like him.
Of course, for his targets this sadistic mercy cannot be given to, as due to
his code they must die. He likes inflicting pain on living things, and for
things that could never heal, he gives them the mercy to end their pain. That
is his own small code of honor. This explains why he rarely purposefully kills
any innocent bystanders.






Gillian-Adjuchas Appearance:


Note: He
has strange feet. They are a human’s foot, but are topped with bird claws on
each appendage. They are a part of his body, and he can move or grab things
with them, as well as increase his foothold. He can choose to bend them away from
his body, since their bases have no joints, allowing him better movement in
certain circumstances and possibly another small way to attack his enemy’s.
However, if one of them is destroyed, the other follows, and they take 15
threads to be reproduced out of the skin of his leg.



Gillian-Adjuchas Abilities: Typhon's entire body is used as a weapon, as
is ideal to his deadly nature.


Claw: His claw has 2 different uses.
It can create a small field of reiatsu on its surface that can fire out in a
direction DIFFERENT than the claw itself when it is attacking. It can be used
as such once per post and takes 2 posts to recharge the field of energy. It
fires out in a straight blade shaped like his sword and attempts to cut the
enemy in the direction it is chosen to be fired in.





Its second ability is that it can
fire energy bursts from within itself, such as bala and cero, as well as its own
energy attack that ricochets until it hits a living thing that absorbs the
shock of the attack. It is called Mercury Shot and can only be used twice per
post with a cool down of 3 posts after the two have fired.





Sword: His sword is quick and
deadly, reaping lives and stained red with the blood of hollows and humans,
reveling in causing pain. He can slash
down with it to create a wave of cero energy or small bala slashes that fly out
in the size of a cut. However, the cero extends from the blade until the cero
stops being released. As it is part of his arm he is constantly using it,
explaining why he doesn't shake a lot of hands. He would also much prefer suing
his sword than his claw.





Wings: His wings store extra energy
from himself during any time when he has extra. As such, when he uses the wings
when they are fully charged, it allows him sufficient speed to match up with a shinigamis
flash-step. He can use 27 per thread and 3 per post at max when the speed does
indeed come from his wings. If he uses them more than that, then the wings stop
working, turning black and shriveling up on his back for the rest of the
thread, unusable. The wings also allow him to perform aerial maneuvers and are
a benefit in aerial combat.





Wind Slashing: From his sword he can
project a strong wind that blows away everything down the direction of the
slash. It fires out for 10-25 feet from the origin and is his main one-on-one
battle maneuver. He can fire one of
these per post. However, he also has the option of firing a much larger one
that blows out 20 feet in length from the point of origin of the slash, and
flies out 40 feet. However, when he uses this he is unable to use another wind
slash for 3 posts and no other cero or bala in his post immediately afterward.





Black Blood Spike: From his mouth
Typhon fires a mass of black spike balls, each with a radius of 3 inches. He
fires about 20 from his mouth, like caltrops raining from him. They are made of
his blood and therefore make him dizzy when he uses this. They shoot out of his
mouth at 35 mph at their target. When it hits, it simply rips into them. Since
this uses Typhon's actual blood, he can only use it once before it takes 4
posts to use it again, then 6 posts, then 12 posts. Unless he drinks a large
amount of blood from another source, like a fallen hollow or the enemy's blood
that has been spilt. For a large amount ingested, it reduces the cool down by 4
posts, for a medium amount, 2 posts. For a small amount, one post. When he
ingests it, the caltrops made of foreign material are only 5/6 as sharp, and
fly at 30 mph. It is possible for him to faint from blood loss after the use of
this if he loses more blood then he
intends too, as he cannot move for the few seconds it takes to expel the
caltrops or they would slice up his throat.





Expert
Swordsman and Weapon’s Specialist: He fights in a very odd way, incorporating
his claw with his attacks to surprise or otherwise damage the enemy. Since the
claw and sword have always been attached to him, he has become an expert of
using his blade and due to having to fight with the claw; he has become quite
quick-witted when resourcefulness is needed. It also helps him on his jobs and
was part of his initial training as an assassin.


Strange
Hand-to-hand: As such, his hand to hand skills are… well… different. His
methods are much more unorthodox, since he has virtually no hands to speak of.
However, he does use his feet and other parts of his body as well, since he has
to be creative for his more physical demanding duties as the Special Operations
type jobs require.





Background: Typhon’s human name
was James McLain. When he was born, he had jaundice, and it was unsure if he
would get out of the hospital alive. After 3 days, it became clear that he
would live, and was rushed home a few days later. He wasn’t very special as a
young child, but he grew up fairly normally and did well in his classes. As he
matured, he was admitted into several accelerated classes, being bored in the
regular ones. He never got into fights, but he was no coward. He was
unpredictable, going up against societies accepted norms when it came to bullying
and hazing. For example, once when he was with a group of his classmates, one
of them decided that it would be “Fun” to keep shining a light in someone
else’s eyes. He had sighed and closed the book he was half-reading shut. He
blocked the light with his hand, but they still persisted. After a while, they
told him to just stop. He responded quite clearly:


“Why should I stop? So
that you can inflate your ego as such a ball of slime that you are over another
person? Why don’t you go and take your lowly behind and take it somewhere were
people place a high value on morons!”


After that, there was
immediate quiet. The guy with the light just looked at James. He seemed
annoyed, but his eyes were blank and eyes were wide and questioning. James
continued placing his hand between the light and his classmate’s eyes, not
giving an inch. After a few moments, the boy backed down and turned the light
off. Both of them didn’t talk much after that day, trying to forget the
incident.


He continued
high-school as best he could, get fairly high marks. He was in mostly advanced classes, and tended
to be bored most of the time. He was very active in his school, going through
very fast as he did so. The years flew by, and when it was time for graduation,
he had a 3.9 GPA, despite his boredom, due mostly to his honors classes
boosting his average. He was part of the class leadership and for the end of
the senior year he had the class do something special. They created a small
green pyramid of dirt outside the schools front entrance, green from the grass
growing on it. It was one of his crowning achievements in high school.


As he grew, he went to
college for an engineering degree, not having too much trouble in doing so. He
did not drink, as he considered it pointless. As such he was able to focus more
on his studies instead of burning out like several of his classmates. While in
college, he of course ran into the occasional problem. One of such was that he
had brought a girl home from a party and she had gotten herself drunk
immediately afterwards. Then she locked the front door. He went to the
bathroom, and escaped out the window, having left written “I’M SORRY. I CAN’T”
on the mirror in front of the sink with bright red lip stick he had found in
one of the drawers. He ran in the dark
to a nearby commons room, where he spent the night, safe. In the morning he got
back to his room and for the first time was late to class. Nothing of that
particular nature occurred again, as he became wary and more careful from that
point on.


When he graduated, he moved
to Denmark, taking on an entreprunal venture that proved to be an interesting
part of his life. His company was based on the human fact that the brain loved
instant gratification, and utilized this fact in many ways. He created a series
of furniture, and each time a person used it, they seemed to gain something in
a program he created. The program was always working, always registering for
that person when they used the furniture. The concept sounded interesting to
many people, and so most tried out at least a piece. After they discovered what
they could get with the points required by the object and how EASY it was to
get the points, sales doubled, then tripled. When he created a component that
gave a user a code to give to people they knew so they both got bonus points
when they bought more furniture, sales quadrupled. It was very successful, and during
the wake of it he married. Her name was Amanda Watson, and he loved her for who
she was. She was very active; giving to the community and kind to everyone she
met. He dated her for 3 years before they married him 26 and her 25. They had 2 daughters, one 2 years later and
another 5 years after they had wed. James cashed out of his business, Furniture
Points Incorporated, buying many shares of stock before quitting and then from
the media hype due to the company’s popularity and his own success, sold out
the stock for 4.8 million dollars. He retired, at 32 years old, at a small
subdivision in Ohio.


It was a strange neighborhood. It was off the main
roads, down its own road with only 3 other houses. It was strange because of the lack of
housing, because each house costed 1 million dollars. They were REALLY nice
houses. His children went to private school, and were sent to a catholic high
school as they grew up. Once they grew up and went to college, problems began
to arise. James mostly survived by focusing on helping his daughters,
giving his life a purpose after he cashed out of his company. He soon became
tired with the same boring aimless routines he went through day after day. So,
eventually he decided to become an adventurer. An eccentric one, as well! He
performed many tasks, zip lining, exploring the Grand Canyon, climbing
mountains, and surviving untamed in the African jungle. Eventually, he travels
took him to Egypt, to the pyramid of Giza. It was here that he met his doom.
While exploring the inner workings (with approval due to his connections that
he had from his corporate empire) he discovered a strange chamber. He had been
with an assistant and was examining the room’s door when suddenly he was
pressed from behind in the small of his back! His assistant, a young Egyptian
boy, had spied a scorpion nest, and had panicked. He turned around in the
tunnel they were in, running past James, his umbrella to protect from sand
poking out from his pack. It jabbed James and unbalanced him, and he fell through
the door, pushing it aside. In front of him, straight down, was absolutely
nothing. No light, no structures. He could not even see the other side of the
room as he began his long descent into the darkness. He kept falling, deeper
and deeper underground. He fell for a half-hour, and 10 minutes in he lost his
fear of falling. When the ground did come rushing up to meet his falling body,
there was nothing he could do as gravity took over. It pressed him down at his
high speed, meeting the ground. The ground acted upon him as it was meant to,
and the impact broke every one of James' rib bones and both his legs. He
remained there in agony for only a few moments. And then, finally, darkness
overcame his struggled vision through his pain and his haggard breath stopped.


He haunted the pyramids for a long
time, until a hollow appearing like the ancient Egyptian god Anubis appeared.
It devoured his helpless spirit and became a hollow himself, full of a strange
and inexplicable rage. Soon its purpose was revealed as a desire to kill… To
kill a certain person. By this time, the young assistant was living well,
having married a one of the chief archeologists at the geological dig. He
wondered into the tent one night and consumed him and his wife, reveling in the
slaughter. While it was in the tent it witnessed a map of the pyramid and
roared in anger. It did not show the room where James had died, as the boy had
covered up what had happened claiming the scorpions got him and his body was
lost in the tunnels. The hollow itself did not recognize what had happened when
it saw the picture, but the small amount of him that was James did. He became
consumed completely with rage, and attacked the camp mercilessly. He killed
every member of the dig, 200 of them, creating the rumor of the Pharaoh's
Curse. He then ate their souls and their hollow forms, ending them and evolving
himself. From then on he roamed Egypt's deserts, always finding dig sites and
attempting to kill and consume the inhabitants that were a part of the thing
that infuriated him so. The rumor of the Pharaoh's Curse exploded out along
Egypt, spoke about in whispered fear by the native people and blamed overseas
by the relatives of those lost at the dig. Eventually, he found his way into
Hueco Mundo, a fairly powerful Gillian. He was used to the sands and fighting
within them, allowing him a natural advantage over his fellow hollows and
allowing him to finish growing. He consumed and destroyed until one day he just
stopped.





He began evolving, becoming an
Adjuchas. His Gillian form was a great beast with a large torso and small hands
and feet, allowing it to be more nimble than it seemed and get an advantage in
a fight. He had wide shoulder on his back that allowed him a greater range of
motion to attack with and help survive. When he evolved, his torso shrank in
and supplemented his arms and legs, evening out his body. His claw developed as
well as his sword. His legs became thicker and powerful, able to cover wide
distances before tiring out. His shoulder blades exploded out and became his
wings, giving him the natural ability of flight. If he was in ancient Egypt,
chances were he would be mistaken as a child of Ra. After he evolved, he gained
new intelligence as well, and began to understand what had happened. He did not feel remorse for the hollows he
had eaten and especially felt nothing for the people he had killed, but he did
stop consuming them after that point. He went around, ending the miserable
existence of several hollows, their blood seeping into his blade as if he were
eating them himself. However, he never again partook of Hollow energy into his
actual body. Any human he met he would kill, eat their spirit, then finish off
the hollow the created, sharing his own pain as well as ending the human's and
gaining a meal. However, after a hundred and ninety years of this, he became
bored of his existence.





He began seeking a purpose, his
natural instinct. From of course, his human life where he always tried to have
something to do, to being a hollow who stopped many digs from proceeding in
Egypt. He explored and with his new intelligence had realized the existence of
the Espada and Arrancar. He sensed a regular hollow among them, a most strange
one indeed. It was different though, a Vasto Lorde, the likes of which he had
never felt before, since he tried to avoid beings like that. However, he could
tell that this hollow was different than most. It guarded one of the Espada,
the one with the most power. He was impressed, and soon discovered who the being
was. His name was Kimmimaro, and was body guard and servant to Ashlei Clixx, the
Cero Espada herself. He began to think on this information, as it was unique
and nothing like the Adjuchas had felt before.
While meditating, he decided on a name for himself, using the way his
body was made as his guide. As he had wings, he knew to depend on the wind.
However, he was not a gentle breeze, so that left things such as hurricanes and
tornados. He was not like either of
those, as he was not that destructive as quiet. So he tried to think of
something else. He was drawing up blanks and hit his head in frustration with
his claw. This was really beginning to bother him that he did not have anything
to be called. He thought long and hard some more and then realized something as
he gazed at his claw. If he could have felt stupid, then he would have at that
moment. He decided on typhoon, a tornado that absorbed water and became even
more destructive. However, something about it bothered him. He did not like the
-foon part, not at all. It sounded like something a trumpet or something would
make. So, he changed the name from -foon to -fon, and became Typhon, the Dark
Child of Ra.





A year later he was still trying to
understand more about this strange relationship between Hollow and Arrancar. He
stalked Kimmimaro at a distance, never Ashlei, since he knew how easy it would
be for her to incinerate him. He frowned; as this time was no different than
all the others he had stalked the Vasto. He had learned that Kimmimaro was
vastly intelligent and wondered if that meant that he could do more than an
average hollow. After following him for 3 hours, Kimmimaro suddenly spun
around, and stared right at him. Typhon froze, not moving an inch. Suddenly, he
heard a creaking behind him and saw to his amazement Kimmimaro standing there,
his bones the source of the noise, his aura fired out. Typhon, who had never
witnessed Kimmimaro in actual battle, began rushed speaking in the hollow
tongue. He had never spoke to anyone else in the tongue before in his life, so
his words were sloppy and slurred. However, he got across his meaning that all
he was there for was because Kimmimaro was interesting and that he was bored
out of his mind. Kimmimaro just stood there, absorbing the information. Then,
he asked Typhon what he was doing as a hollow. His answer in his clumsy way was
that he wished that he had a purpose. Kimmimaro accepted this and a few days
later Typhon joined the Quimera Parca.
Over the next year his body was operated on. His right arm was removed surgically and replaced with a strange claw with special abilities. He was given it to test drive over time, and with it began to understand more about how to fight creatively instead of just fighting by brute force and hoping to win. He has still to this day has only discovered a small amount of what it can do, however...





Over the next few years, Typhon
completed each assignment given to him. He was a perfect assassin, excellent at
getting reconnaissance and always getting his target. He still defends
Kimmimaro, and is used to the things that happen around him, such as what
happens all around when he fights. He rarely speaks to the others, performing
most communication with head motions or writing with his blood-covered sword if
he has too. That is what led him to the present day…






Role Play Sample: Typhon
continued holding his breath behind his mask, examining his target. It was a
young shinigami, a radical in the human world. Typhon was above him, attached
to the ceiling a few yards behind where he sat reading a map of some kind. It
seemed to be a map… of Hueco Mundo. This place was too busy for him, too loud.
He was in the middle of a small but bustling city somewhere on the West Coast,
and he had been sent here on a mission from Hueco Mundo. This shinigami, along
with his 2 other allies, were both wanted dead by the Espada. They were wanted
for one main reason: Their ideas. The constantly tried to persuade humans and
Iramasha, as well as any other
beneficial species, that they needed to unite and destroy Hueco Mundo and the
Espada. They had been expelled from Soul Society and barely escaped the deserter’s
chamber due to their 4^th member acting as a distraction as they made
their escape and being captured. He was unable to escape with them and was
locked away. They were expelled for plotting a rebellion to take control of the
Gotei 13 and directly attack the Espada themselves. To do so, they had been
willing to kill members of the old legislation as well as all their supporters.
Their actions were discovered, resulting in their expulsion. However, that did
not stop them. They persisted, spreading around propaganda to all kinds of
people, that they must unite and attack the Espada. Eventually, word had come
back to Kimmimaro about what they planned to do, and he had assigned Typhon to
it. His mission had two parts: To locate the headquarters of the rebellious
faction, and 2. Discover how many the faction had and kill them all. Typhon smiled
at this last bit, as he knew something that he would most likely keep to
himself. All three of them were pathetically weak, with little to no power to
speak of. This one below him, the leader, was the strongest among them, the
only able to actually use Shikai. It had been fairly simple finding them and
learning this, he simply followed the path of the propaganda. It led Typhon
right to this long room, with nothing but a table in its center with doors on
the same side of the room, but on different ends. He was 30 feet underground,
underneath a cliché tall building right above him and the young man’s head.


His target suddenly
shifted, as if uneasy. If not for the seriousness of the situation, Typhon may
have smiled. He despised shinigami, although the reason was born more of envy
than anything else. Envy that they had been given an existence they were praised
and honored for, while others made
exactly like him were despised and hated I.E. hollows. He frowned slightly
as the man put away the map and made to stand. Suddenly, Typhon fell down from
his position on the ceiling, and with a flap of his wings, appeared directly in
front of the shinigami. His body was level with the man’s waist, as he was
crouching down, preparing to spring. His face, however, was looking straight up
at the stunned features of his target. His right hand, with its sword, flashed
straight up as he appeared before the shinigami, flying at his exposed neck. In
his shock he suddenly released his Shikai, his zanpakto suddenly in front of
Typhon’s own blade. Typhon frowned, springing up, pointing his claw opened wide
at the shinigami. His Shikai was an interesting one. A large ruby-red katana with
a jade hilt and about 4 feet long. He seemed to be quite fast with it, but was
unable to prepare for what happened next. From Typhon’s claw fired a small bala
right at his face. The shinigami raised his sword to defend itself from it, and
Typhon suddenly disappeared with a flash. He reappeared behind the shinigami,
who was still blocking the bala. He spun around, seeing Typhon as he brought
the blade down silently. From it fired a cero, and it flew straight and true,
hitting the shinigami in the right shoulder, severing his arm. Typhon simply
stood over his target, who was panting, holding onto his wound with his free
hand. Typhon looked down on him with no remorse, and lifted the blade over his
head as he walked over to stand above his prey. He saw the man’s look of fear,
and knew that this fool was all talk no guts to speak of. Destroy Hueco Mundo? More like gather a ring of passionate, idolizing
bodyguards to protect yourself! He brought down the sword; cutting off the
man’s other arm. This caused him to cry in agony, but Typhon was not done yet.


He took his claw and
aimed at the armless screaming piece of flesh and fired off small bala in
succession. He fired off 25 all at the torso of the shinigami before he decided
to end this game. The shinigami had no more recognizable features, for his skin
was molted and bloody. Typhon walked up to him again, with his sword held high.
His eyes, if had been seen, could only have been described as “Cold” he brought
down the sword again, straight through the man’s skull. It continued past his
head, slicing down through torso and stomach, like a knife through butter. The
man was dead before Typhon could get to the waist but he continued anyway,
cutting the leader completely in half. He slowly backed up again before with a
flap of his wings, reattached himself to the ceiling. He waited, wondering what
the rebel’s reaction to this would be. He had left the corpse wide open on the
floor, to get attention and to distract his fellow conspirators. When they did
walk in, Typhon would be ready.


He did not have to
wait very long. After just an hour, he felt the door on the same side of the
room as the chair opening, hearing it and feeling the vibrations through the
dead silence. He watched as the two shinigami, a young boy with gold hair and
brown eyes and an elderly woman in appearance with brown hair and blue eyes,
walked through. They walked right under Typhon and stopped dead. Typhon’s body
nearly shivered with anticipation of the hunt but he used his discipline to
keep it still. He looked right down at the pair as suddenly the young boy ran
forward with a cry. The woman just stood there, looking shocked, like she could
not accept what had happened. The corpse itself was quite a spectacle as well,
without arms and burned beyond recognition. Typhon descended noiselessly behind
the woman, undetected. He suddenly swung
his arms forward and in, around the woman’s neck. His claw caught his sword,
aimed for just under her chin. He gave a flap of his wings and a great push
back, and the effect was instantaneous. The head flew off, and began rolling on
the floor. From the woman’s stump of a neck began spurting a small fountain of
blood.


The boy looked back,
and his eyes went wide with fear. Typhon walked around the fountain, becoming
partly soaked in the blood. He walked straight towards the boy, who was
paralyzed in fear. Typhon was quite a sight to begin with: A claw, a sword,
wings. But that was nothing to the amount of energy he was pressing down on the
shinigami at this moment. Typhon licked some of the blood off of his face, and
then unhinged his jaw, pointing his gaping mouth at the child, bent over like
he was going to hurl. From within his body fired a stream of caltrops, which
flew all at the boy, who was not fast enough to get out of the stream’s range.
It ran into him, sticking in him and tearing up his flesh, causing him to cry
in agony. He fell to the floor, forcing the attached spikes to penetrate him
again as they were pressed against his body and solid stone. Typhon knew that
his attack usually wasn’t quite that effective,
since most enemies could dodge or simply block the caltrops. However, his
mission was done, and he left soon thereafter, the building alight with flames
as he made his departure. Many passerbies looked at the building and wondered
what had happened, and soon thereafter the authorities arrived. They found no
one inside, but they did find red marks all over the ground in a strange cellar
room…


Typhon had stepped out
from the building, having just burned away the corpses with a cero from his
claw. He was unable to scour the blood before the flames of the bodies caught
with the building, but he doubted that burnt-black blood stains would be able
to tell them very much. He looked down at the ground for just a moment,
spreading his wings out to their full lengths. He suddenly looked straight on
up to the sky as he performed a power lift, going from ground to flight
instantly. He enjoyed the sensation, the freedom, and the sheer joy of flight.
It was one of the only things that allowed him some kind of feeling in this
monstrous form. He spun as he flew, equalizing
from a vertical position to a horizontal one, and powered off with his arms
locked onto his sides, the wind blowing him right in the face. He knew that
when he got back, he would be well received for another mission well done. He
flew on, enjoying the sensation of the wind blowing on, rising above the smog
of the city.











1.


2.

Approved, 2-1+

Reapproved.