Hizeme *Vizard*

Vizard Template

Name: Hizeme
Nickname(s): Monkey
Age: 436
Visual Age: Late 20’s

Gender: Male
Ex-Division: 3rd
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Height: Around 5’11”
Weight: 180/190

Body Frame: Toned, but over all skinny
Blood Type: AB+
Sound of Voice: Medium range, however over electronics’ he sounds like a girl, and when one can’t see him, he sounds like a deep Barry White, due to his specialty.
Appearance:

The first thing one notice’s about Hizeme is that his eyes seem to hold warmth and comfort, the cool calming blue of his eyes reflects like a surface of water and you are the drop, you ripple and then vanish beneath his collective surface. Short white hair stouts his unnaturally slender frame, the majority of his hair is draping behind his head and has some black tips and strands running through it.. His mouth has a permanent smirk on it, like he is ready to go any time any place; his nose is positioned just so on his face that it doesn’t matter the angle, his face is always in the perfect picture mode.
A white tattoo is under right eye, it appears to be several white feathers almost like eyelashes. When you look into his eyes, you see dark and unwavering, they hold sadness and determination; right away you can tell that this one has aspirations.
On top of his head, black red hair is cut back and gives him long bangs, and he lets it naturally fall on his head almost a wind touched look to it.

Body:
Some would consider him skinny and he is, but after training his entire life his body is covered in muscle. While he is not overly muscular he is toned and has not an inch of fat on him. His shoulders are eternally wrapped in bandages, each crossing under the arm and wrapping into the centre connecting with each other across his pecks and upper back. His skin, while battle worn is still soft too the touch due to the care he gives it. Three scars decorate his body, each a reminder of a time once forgotten. One across his stomach going from the kidney down to his “upper” thigh, the second one going from the back of his left leg going down to his knee cap, and the third is directly under his armpit going across to his peck then slighting shifting left for about an inch. His ears are small and concealed by his hair, his black eyebrows off set his pointed nose giving him a rather detrimental look. By a previous training grounds, his body is toned to near perfection, but he is more graceful and agile then most believe.


Introvert/Extrovert: More Introvert
Hobbies: Sailing, boating, fishing, and gardening
Likes and Dislikes:

Likes- Fish, boats, wood, gardening and of course, hunting

Dislikes- Killing for fun, throw up *Gross*, eating large amounts of food, and people who can’t hold there drinks.

Personality: Hizeme always believed in justice and a sense of duty to ones own, he truly lives by the way of the sword. His sense of duty comes from the previous captain of the 6th division who bestowed a sense of purpose and honor which he now cares with him in both memory and spirit. Hizeme has always fought for himself striving to be the fastest, the one who jumps the highest, who can run the furthest. While Hizeme is still considered young, or what others refer to as a “fledgling” he is idealistic and he brings a strong sense of relationship and familiarity when he is around.

He is willing to forgo any and all notions of mainstream and peer pressure, often times striving his own path or going against the beliefs of others in order to achieve victory. Around people Hizeme acts as natural as he can; perceivably he lets his guard down, pretends to let people into his inner world, and of course makes the person he is talking to feel like the center of attention. He strives to be equal with the one he is talking to, never flaunting his position, never talking down or up, just ready to offer a helping hand when one falls down.

Currently Hizeme has become a iron willed individual, he is duty bound to the Vizards’s and will not deviate from them, he weary of the that purpose, but goes along with it because of a sense of making a good difference instead of just a difference; his own honor protects him from the “riggers” of regular shinigami. Over the years Hizeme has gained a sense of superiority, believing that he is destined to help reclaim Soul Society from the evil clutches of “them”. He is now striving to bring the vizard to the forefront of spiritual life style, wanting them to not only be the best but achieve it as well. While some may say he is a open and shut individual, Hizeme only lets those close to him in; all others are considered possible “traitors” to the his cause and can not be trusted. Hizeme is a project person, he never likes to have one thing going at a time, he always likes to be busy, different tactics, different angles, he even goes so far as to help others in order to advance another line instead of pushing them back.

Hizeme has always been a keen eye, not to say he is without flaws, but he prides himself on a motto of sorts “All the knowledge in the world can’t help, if you can’t apply it”. Which is odd sense Hizeme is more of a doer than a thinker, but when it comes right down to it he feels that if you want something done right, there is only one person than can. Hizeme is not a quick thinker, in the sense of battles or politics, his wit and sarcasms are bar none, but when it comes to battle tactics and political maneuvers. Hizeme prefers to take his time, or more accurately bide his time. If and when he goes at something 100% he can be one of the most dangerous people on the planet, calculating every move, every play, every battle down to the victor in minutes; he leaves no room for surprises or pauses. He plays his life like a giant risk battle, once he has what he wants he guards is jealously until such a time where he can sweep up the odds and ends.

Defining Characteristics:
Specialties: He can change the pitch of his voice kinda like mimicry and ventriloquism
Fighting type: Close Quarter
History/Background:

Born into the Muromachi Period of Japan history, born is the wrong term here, Hizeme was never born into the real world, he was born into Soul Society. He was born of two socialite parents, his mother was an extreme activists in the social scene, often having parties and get together, his father was a man that all the men wanted to be around, making jokes, having good conversation, and yet he was the strictest man Hizeme ever knew. Blessed with stability and security, Hizeme was whisked away during his youth to become a “true” Secret. Training in not only the arts of swordsmanship but also of tactics and strategy, his teachers were old veterans of the military and only taught old school ways, such as surprise and assaults to, sieges and fortifications. Hizeme was an only child, born a chubby and large baby, Hizeme was thought to become pudgy and obese in his youth and so to counter this he was sent away to a Secret training grounds for the first 10 years of his life.

During his time at the training grounds, Hizeme found comfort in the form of poetry, often times writing ballads and strings instead of doing the proper exercises. Hizeme was ridiculed during his beginning years for being a pudgy and winded child, always falling behind in running contests, even basic sword play Hizeme was lagging due to his larger than normal size. Art was always a Hizeme’s favorite past times and often painting or poems were used to relive stress. Secrets’s family library has saved all the poems, art and written word by Hizeme.
His most famous poem
The battle of heart
Hizeme
The warriors stand
The beats of the drum rumble
The heart of my heart

The song has been sung
The day has come for my heart
The heart of my heart

Hundreds march along
Burning of my soul quickens
The heart of my heart

Never knowing fate
Wishing for mine to hold me
The heart of my heart

Taking the reigns
Holding fast to what I know
The heart of my heart

Time has come for me
Taking what I treasure most
The battle of heart


Severity Years:
To this day Hizeme doesn’t talk about what actually happened in the Secret “training” facilities, he “quietly” pushed it under the rug.

At the crisp age of 12 Hizeme was sent to specialists, or more properly a “trainer” who guaranteed to relieve those extra Hizeme’s. Hizeme was not the only child to attend this camp; he was one of seven children, all with the same build and physique as himself.

The camp was run by 12 older shinigami, all with Adonis bodies, perfectly formed, golden hair, tan, nearly perfect in everyway. Every day different activities were preformed, running three times a week, swimming, jumping, all exercise, each and every day for 60 years.

At the training grounds the seven individuals slowly became friends, each of them had their own problems outside of there weight. From problems with anger, love, jealously, vanity, thirst and greed and laziness were all attributed to there proper owners. Training every day was one thing, but being humiliated and degraded was completely another, pushed to ones limits only to have them thrown back in your face as worthless slowly takes its toll on children. The boys slowly became increasingly insecure about there masculinity and the girls became increasingly aware of there short comings with there bodies. Over the course of the years the children were put through the riggers of manual labor, forced combat and constant contests of strength, endurance, and ability. Constantly compared to the perfect bodies of the trainers, and other more perfect specimens; slowly the training facility got worse, diet was severely restricted, sleeping hours were drastically reduced, and every day a contest was held to see who would sleep the entire night. As morale reached its all time low the children started to congregate together, at first the girls slowly became friends, then the boys soon followed. Exhausted from the labors of the day the children really had no time to become friends or even to get to know each other, deprived of all names and titles they only knew the names the trainers called them. Lust, Wrath, Pride, Sloth, Gluttony, Greed, and Envy were born, the idea was sparked by Hizeme himself and his readings of a new judo-Christian book that had founds its way into the Secret library. Considered to be the most horridness of all the wrong doings, Hizeme thought that this would be a good name for the children, the seven deadly sins.

Life was especially hard to Hizeme, he was the slowest runner, the first to faint from exhaustion, and the first to finish his meal. The weight was extremely hard for him to lose, but never the less they pushed him just as or harder than the rest. Often times rousing him out of bed in the middle of the night for runs, or simply making him run extra or longer than the others, but his determination kept him going; Hizeme felt that he not only needed to prove himself to the others, but to himself as well, and sure enough, slowly and steadily he became the fastest running in the group, and then pretty soon he outdistanced them all, and after all that work the pounds literally melted off of his body.

The final years were the best at the facility, the children had all grown up and shed there unwanted pounds and each was in perfect physical condition, nearly exact models of their trainers. Instead of daily works of manual labor, or running, swimming or things of that nature, the adults were pitted against each other every day, from close combat to using sticks or branches, each person exceeded in one area. The girls became prolific hard solid strikes, simply beating up the boys worse then they could to them. The boys mastered the art of using weapons to there advantage, all except for Hizeme, he was the last of the children to shed his pounds, but he became the fastest runner, the one able to go on to the every end. Hizeme became the expert at hand to hand combat, using he advantageous speed to land quick and coordinated blows before they could land one, he ducked and dodged, Hizeme fought with his legs, spinning and kicking, keeping perfect balance and being extremely graceful and elegant at the same time. But as all things do, the camp had to end, and literally what seemed like a life time ago, Hizeme and the group split up and went back to there respected families, slimmer, trimmer, better, and all together different than when they entered.

Academy/Shinigami Years:

It’s funny to think that such good friends could simply up and leave like that, but at informal graduation each went there own way, or at least each followed there own personal philosophy in life. Some went back to there families and remained, others went to pursuer a more natural lifestyle, and two of them went on to join the Academy, to again take up the riggers of a new lifestyle.

Hizeme and the boy dubbed Wrath both went on to the Academy, upon which they learned each other’s true identity, Wrath was a noble born just like Hizeme, but instead of being at the high end of the spectrum, he was nearly at the bottom, much later did Hizeme learn that it nearly bankrupted Wraths family to send him to the training grounds. Pitted against both above and below average persons, Hizeme and Wrath slowly excelled at there respected fields; Wrath outdistanced his fellow classmates with his impressive stamina, but more so with his uncanny ability to fight and win with any weapon handed to him. Hizeme became the best at hand to hand combat preferring more of a foot to hand combat, using his speed and grace to wear out the opponent, all the while dodging nearly every blow, soon Hizeme was the fastest student, outclassing even some of the rather regular instructors. At the end of the Academy years, both Hizeme and Wrath were recognized for there expert abilities, and hand selected to become part of the Gotei 13 before the rest of the students.

Hizeme was initially picked up by the 11th division for his abilities in hand to hand and speed, but seeing as Wrath was also in that division, Hizeme was given the option to join the sixth, which he gladly accepted. His skills were honed by a very illustrious captain in the styles of speed and grace who later went on to train the future generations, who not only prided himself on speed and stamina, but also grace and elegance. Hizeme had trouble within his beginning years with the 6th division, he was completely foreign to the workings of the Shinigami, and once he was given a zanpakuto it became all the worse.

Not only did he have to content with other more advance people, he also had to master a zanpakuto and learn the graces of being an officer. His very first seat was the bottom, which he was extremely proud of, beating the other officer because he couldn’t use basic shunpo. Hizeme prided himself on being able to beat a seated officer without even drawing his sword, but then again he still had 19 more rungs to climb before the top.

The way in which he learned his zankaputo’s true identity was a near complete accident, like all younger men, Hizeme wasn’t awash to holding contests of might and prowess with other men, or depending on the time, women. A race lapping the outer wall sounded simple enough, but if caught it could mean disaster if there captain found out. The prize was being held by the Vice Captain, at the time it was the most wonderful gift any sub par officer could receive, a week of training with the Vice Captain and a chance to move up a couple of ranks after that. As the race started, Hizeme started to lag behind, obviously these individuals were much more trained than he was, but Hizeme was one major advantage on his side, his skills were honed, and his legs were incredibly strong. Hizeme started sprinting; the more advance students could use minor shunpo, hopping distances with more difficultly than it would take to run. Hizeme flattened his body, his training with balance proved itself, he was running with just his legs, his body had flattened to stream line height; he quickly out paced the students simply running, and had ground between those using minor shunpo. Hizeme was faced with a choice, try to out run the older students, or try a new tactic in order to beat them, Hizeme chose the latter. Running up the wall, Hizeme ran on the wall, using his speed to equal the gap, pushing himself beyond his normal speed, Hizeme was running as fast as those using flash steps, he grabbed his sword and took it out of his belt, scabbard and all and held it across his chest as a balancing beam, in all truth Hizeme doesn’t know exactly what happened, one minute he was running, the next it seemed like he was gliding along the wall, he looked behind himself and no one was there, he looked in front and he had already at the second gate, it was a euphoric event for him, one that he still remembers fondly to his day.

Everything was blurring except for what was in front of him, his vision was tinted green and gray. He felt that beside him was somebody running with him, but when he looked they kept eluding his stares, he could feel it, like somebody was literally on top of him, or under him, or both at the same time. As he closed in on the third gate the presence grew, it felt like someone was trying to whisper in his ear, but the wind carried the voice away before it happened. He could feel his legs press against the surface, but he felt no impact, only the release, like swimming in water, your legs move but you never feel the surface. Slowly his body was speeding up, his vision got tighter, nearly a tunnel vision now, his body raced and it felt exhilarating. As he came around again his vision focused on the starting point, it was within his grasp, he had finally done it, achieved victory.

Everything blacked out for a moment and then he entered a dream like state. As he was running a fuzzy object appeared in his vision but he paid no heed, then all of a sudden everything went dark, and then came back into crystal clear vision. The sun was shining high in the sky, a gentle breeze billowed through his hair, the sky was crystal clear, and the grassed swayed back and forth, back and forth. Hizeme got up and felt dizzy, he steadied himself and started to peer around, his head throbbed and he felt something wet pass over his lips. It was at this point that he realized that he was not in Kansas anymore, his hand raised to his nose; blood was trickling down both nostrils. Hizeme turned in a circle taking in his surroundings. As he turned something flickered just on the edge of his vision, turning and turning Hizeme became dizzy enough that he stumbled, all of a sudden a hand was placed in front of his face, seizing the hand Hizeme was hoisted up, his head throbbing he looked to see a hazy face, dark grey light shaded the body, Hizeme couldn’t make out his face but three words were whispered on the wind, this time he heard them, “gin'yoku hadamihanasazu gaifuu shichiyou” (Silvery Wings carry the Southern wind, Mercury) and in an instant Hizeme was standing before the Vice Captain, his head throbbing, his nose bleeding, and a voice repeated to him over and over again.

Hizeme left his gentle daze and returned to the real world, the vice captain was calling his name, asking if he was alright. Apparently Hizeme was traveling a bit to fast, and was using a bit to much reiatsu for comfort, so as he rounded the starting gate for the second time, the vice captain was hard pressed to catch up, asking him to slow down, and when Hizeme didn’t respond the vice captain was forced to knock him out. The first words out of his mouth were “Did I win?” which caused a hefty laugh for the vice captain, who in turned replied yes unfortunately.

6th Division Years
Hizeme had quickly out distanced most of the seated officers, now he was a proud member holding the third seat title. He was quickly gaining fame among the division as being the fastest, which he only too happily replied would you like to test your luck. For a nearly 80 years he had been stuck in that position, filling in for odd and end jobs that needed someone but not quite the vice captain. That all changed when the captain of the sixth division retired to the Central 46, it seemed like everyone wanted to via for his position, including the vice captain, but all Hizeme was concerned with was becoming the vice captain. In order to pass the vice captain test he had to achieve shikai, a feat that was quickly coming into his grasp, only this time Hizeme had to yet again push himself to the limits of his speed, a requirement that was a tall order to fill, he already could circle the outer wall easily, he needed a bigger challenge. Hizeme decided that he had to visit all the 80 districts; all in the span of time it takes him to circle the outer wall.




Inner evil years

After several years after the time when he was almost taken over by an arrancar. Hizeme while slaying hollows, had begun to lose control sometimes. This had begun to worry Hizeme and in turn he then went to the archives to research up on what his condition could possibly be. He then stumbled upon someold scientific findings. He then read that this was a sign of a hollow within and that in order to remain sane he would have to learn to control it. Hizeme had also read of a group of people know as vaizards who were capable of learning to control their inner hollows long ago.

Hizeme then fled from Sieretei in order to learn how to control his inner hollow and never come back. After several years of walking the earth and with Hizeme having not found the vaizards. Hizeme then became terrified he might completely lose control of himself. Hizeme then damned himself to an old abandoned hanger. Their after a few more years the hollow then took over Hizeme. At the moment when he lost control of his body he then awoke to the world of his zanpakutou once further. Their he eyed that which was his inner hollow which by then had taken over his blade completely. Hizeme then fought his inner hollow over dominance and after fifty eight minutes and twelve seconds he then defeated it then freeing himself from it's control.

Vaizard hero years / present

Four years had then came and went and Hizeme had eventually located the vaizards. He then joined there ranks and through his efforts and through his old friend Roddo had become on of their council members. Now, Hizeme strives to get stronger and stronger so he may go back to Sieretei and show them that not all vaizards are evil.

Role-play Sample:
It was true what they say *Trepidation is a man's worst enemy* funny how it was true even in this day and age, the first acknowledgment was not true for Nersi, however the involuntary shuddering was his worse enemy, because once he started his body would not, nor could not stop for some time.

He shifted left right left right, cumbersome but not clumsy or awkward, his steps were still light and graceful, if not slower and more concentrated. He learned to simply look cold rather than succumb to it, no shuffling or rubbing of the limbs, just simply looking colder than normal. Nersi never understood why he tolerated winters, and perhaps once this was all over he wouldn’t anymore, he was a smart individual, cunning and quick but even the greatest of all had weaknesses and the cold was his biggest. It wasn’t that he lost intelligence in cold, it was simply a synonymous reaction to being cold his brain conserved energy by removing certain protocols within its mainframe. Basically while his mind was working on all cylinders his body acted through a haze; like being high on something that makes you just think less.

Her relative calmness about the cold was something he hated, wolves were built to withstand cold, and reptiles were not. She made a comment about him being human once and how she pitied him for it, sad really, from what he recalls about history humans were among were-wolves top predators in the early 1800’s. Her words reached his brain like it was jelly, the message was received just slightly jumbled, but eventually straightened out… eventually. “The nicest part about it was the normalcy; you take for granted that everyday people aren’t hunting you, no rebellions, no shift in politics, no force breeding, no constantly proving who is stronger, smarter, faster, better. This world will someday find a true victor, I just pray it is not humans” He wanted shuffle, to scowl, to yell at every passerby, to just make them know they were bad creatures.

“The base should be fine, in fact if it is everything you make it out to be I think it will be perfectly suitable, with a few adjustments mind you” He mind was now fully focused to getting to the base, not because it offered a slim possibility that his plan will actually work, but because it offered something this city does not, warmth. Do I miss it, miss my old life, Nersi had never asked himself that question, he never needed too, and he always assumed that it was, or at least he was more content with it being that way. She held out a pair of gloves, he looked at it as if it was an orange; he simply stared at it, noticing its gloveness, he was faced with an instinct, did he feel like an orange or didn’t he.

He took the gloves, not because they were his orange, but because she offered, his hand reached out, red veins showed through his hands as he realized what he must look like to her, he took the gloves carefully, but put them on quickly; he tried to cover himself as much as he possibly could hoping that he didn’t look as bad as he thought he did.

“No, I am afraid I don’t miss it, when I was fine, I strove for a purpose, I loved working towards something, and this is simply just another step towards a purpose not even fully known to me. Do you feel that this is another part of the journey or simply something that needs to be completed?” He looked at her, as she walked, yes someday perhaps soon, perhaps not this might work, in fact it just might work.

Approved, But you gotta get itchy's approval too.