Ame Wu Yínhún. (Complete.)

FULL NAME:
• • Ame Wu Yínhún.

NICKNAME(s):

• • Mei [梅]: Mei, is Chinese for “Plum”. It’s an old name for her back in the days of the Rukongai District, and only a select few know it and are permitted to use it.

(Others can be made up for her.)

AGE:
• • Four hundred and twenty seven.
VISUAL AGE:
• • Sixteen.
SEX:
• • Female.
BIRTH PLACE:
• • China.
BLOODTYPE:
• • B Negative.

VOICE:
• • Softly toned, despite her personality. Quite the melody to be heard, produced from full lips and breathed out to dance through the air, entering ears now and again.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT:
• • She can be viewed as both, but in majority extrovert.

HOBBIES:
• • Cooking.
• • Fighting.
• • Reading.
• • Argui-- Err, Debating.
• • Designing.
• • Pranks.


HEIGHT:
• • 5’6”.

WEIGHT:
• • 120 lbs.

DESCRIPTION:
• • Ame is a rather small young woman, standing at 5‘3‘, her body is slim and well toned, and well taken care of. Her hair is a nice red shade, and styled into either pig tails or buns on the side of her head. Her eyes are a perfect deep blue colour and framed by full brown lashes. Her mouth is small with full lips, and her face has lost most of it‘s childish frame, more like a teenager then a child. Her skin is beautifully translucent and smooth to the touch. She has several scars, patterned now and then across her skin. The patterns are more random then most, and oddly shaped.

CLOTHING
• • Normally wearing traditional shihakusho, Ame also wears traditional Chinese clothing, red in colour with gold or silver trim. The top is short, ending above her midriff to show off her toned stomach. She wears a black belt and slit skirt that ends at her ankles. The slit is long, almost to the top seam to allow freedom of movement. She wears either thigh high black or brown stockings, topped with red boots that match her outfit, thigh high black boots or no stockings and traditional shoes. She wears a pair of silver framed goggles, a black cloak, gloves on her hands.

RANK AND OCCUPATION:
• • Third Seated Officer and Assistant Editor of the Weekly News Magazine. She’s in charge of collecting articles, and formatting the front page, and helps label and organize all articles submitted.

SEXUAL ORIENTAION:
• • A blurred version takes place over Ame, she likes men but though she does, she likes to find herself in the company of a woman. But whether it is sexual attraction or simply the need for company that drives it, is unknown to even her.


PERSONALITY:
• • In today’s world, Ame would be best described as a “tomboy”. She has the mannerisms of a woman on occasion, but her behavior and habits relate her to be closer to a boy’s state of mind. She swears and is easily angered, and very violent (She’s been warned multiple times about destroying private property.).

Fighting to her is an outlet for her emotions, may it be sadness or rage and anything in-between. And only when she beats her opponent into a bloody pulp does she feel the relief that comes from releasing those emotions. She has a creative side, though others may call it destructive in the sense that when she paints large murals on the sides of walls in the Sereitei not everyone is pleased with the work it takes to paint over it again.

She’s blunt to the point of being rude, and doesn’t respect those who show no respect for her. Ame has a sweet side though, shown in respect to her superior officer, the Lieutenant of the Ninth Division. Ame views her as a role model and an idol, and worth ships her. In a sense, Ame is in love with her. More so, the feeling is respect, admiration, and jealousy all mixed together into a confusing mess. Ame has been known to follow said officer like a puppy dog.

Ame likes “surprise attacks”, meaning she tests others above her whom she respects to see if they are all they are cracked up to be. The two targeted on a regular basis is the Captain and Lieutenant of the Ninth Division which Ame is a member of. The “surprise attacks” consist of various traps, ambushes, and full-on charges at selected targets.

Ame has many flawed traits, being rash and violent are her top two. Others consists of not following orders, disrespecting higher ups, disturbances, and what others view as vandalism. But Ame can also be considerate, kind, compassionate, loving, and even (god forbid) gentle at times.

Mentally, Ame feels that of a old woman. Having seen so much death, murder, and violence in her young life that many will never see in their entire lifetime. Physically, she’s a sixteen or seventeen year old girl. Due to her physical body accordingly, she acts like a young child and is mischievous, rash, and rather immature compared to others around her. At times she’s viewed as a child, others as a young woman.

But to her, her actions are purely based on her emotional state of mind and views on the world around her, instead of on facts.

LOVE:
• • Candy.
• • Books.
• • Poetry.
• • Roses.
• • Sleeping.
• • Cats (Animals).
• • Scenery.
• • Heights.
• • Food.
• • Summer.
• • Art.
• • Fighting.
• • Boys.
• • Fire.
• • Momoiro-chan.

HATE:
• • That damned man.
• • Arrancar.
• • The smell of Death.
• • Poverty.
• • Winter (Cold.)
• • Animal Cruelty.
• • Liars.

DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS:
• • Ame has an extremely short temper, and therefore has the tendency of picking fights with random people if they insult her, or seemingly insult her in anyway. Ame is rather short, smaller then most people (She's sensitive/embarrassed about it.). She's always carrying around a purple umbrella (it's actually her Zanpaktou's unreleased form, but shhhh. (; It's a secret. [not really].). Her bright red clothing makes her very noticable around the Soul Society. She's always wearing her favorite pair of goggles, either on her head or over her eyes. She's mostly defined by her tomboyish demeaner, acting rather like a young boy instead of a girl in most cases.

SPECIALTIES.:
• • Designing, Cooking, and Spit-Shine cleaning (She can make rooms go from a disaster air to spotless, fast.).

FIGHTING STYLE:
• • Well-Rounded: These fighters are okay in the use of their weapon, in hand-to-hand combat, kidou, cero, flash step/sonido/hirenkyaku, and any of other race abilities that are given to them. They're not great, they're not bad, they're just efficient in several areas.

Advantages: Fighters of this style can handle themselves in most areas of combat, although they're not specialist at any forms of combat. They are able to use Kido spells ranging from 1-81. Ceros and other spells will maintain their normal usage amount and cool down. These fighters can handle themselves, where Zanjutsu, Hakuda and speed based techniques are concerned. Although they're not considered masters of these forms of fighting and movements.

Disadvantages: Well rounded fighters, are considered to be average at everything based on their level. Their stamina, endurance and durability is pretty much average. This means, fighters of different types that specializes in other forms. Are expected to be more versed in the areas, that they are only average in.


HISTORY:

• • The blood poured from her throat, her entrails torn and broken inside her shell. She fought to breathe, the red liquid bubbling past her lips.

What had brought her here? Was it the inevitability of fate, or was it her own doing?

She choked, coughing heavily as her life poured out of her.

She was going to die here.

The young woman realized this suddenly, although it was obvious from the start. She closed her eyes, and images starting passing by, images from her past.

She sighed and lost herself in her memories, before she could take her last breath.

* * *

The girl was born in the center of china, in a small village. She was soon abandoned on a man doorstep, a silver chain around her neck. A memento from her mother apparently.

According to the villagers, her mother and father both died soon after she was born. But not in the sort of way you would expect, such as a trampling by horse, or of old age.

Her parents were murdered two days after leaving their daughter at the mercy of the world. She grew up knowing this, and soon left the orphanage at the age of nine. She had no place there, living among the multiple children who lost their parents to war and famine.

So she left, leaving the village behind.

* * *

Cold, always cold.

The young girl huddled closer to her small fire, the numbness running through her bones.

The winter had come swiftly and forcefully, leaving no grass in view.

She should be used to the cold, to the harsh winter. Every year they took over silently, falling over the Earth overnight. She would wake up, the cold sheet numbing her flesh.

But it wasn’t just the world that was cold it seemed. Every heart seemed to be possessed by it’s icy grasp as well.

The girl felt the sharp ache where bruises would soon form, covering her skin with the purplish design.

Although she fought back, the group of orphans still managed to steal the meager amount of money she’d earn, along with her jacket and boots when they beat her into unconsciousness.

She hated the way others treated the poor and the homeless, as if they were animals instead of human beings, instead treated like cattle, and like property. Children were taken off the street every night, used, then thrown back; not always breathing.

Many a time had the girl made a friend, then the next morning found her new friends cooling corpse lying in a ditch, the blood still wet on their skin.

She remembered at those times, that nothing was forever, and it was better to be alone then to make marks on the population, to have someone love you just to die the next day.

She shivered, becoming aware that she was dangerously cold, and could not feel her toes. She stood up shakily, flexing them a bit. She frowned, and then leaned down and clasped them in her small hands. If she got too cold, she knew she could die.

She didn’t want to die, at least not yet.

“Well well, what’s this?” a raspy voice stated behind her.

She froze, then quickly whipped around, coming to face a tall thick muscled man, and a thinner, more sickly looking one. They both grinned at her, and she took a step back cautiously. “..What do you want..?” she asked, her voice hard.

“Oh, just a couple minutes of your time. How old are you sweetheart?” The thin man rasped, his grin widening.

“…Don’t call me that.” She growled, taking another step back.

This time, they shadowed her, following her step. “Ohhhh…don’t be like that sugar…We don’t bite…”

The muscular man chuckled, “Speak for yourself.”

She turned and sprinted away, chambering up the stone steps that lead up to the main street, where she could see people walking around, hurrying through the cold.

“Catch her!”

A hand caught her ankle and she cried out as she fell, her hands catching herself, but the ice bit sharply into them, causing blood to pour out.

“LET GO OF ME!” She screamed, kicking at the mans face.

He grunted and pulled her towards him, catching her fists in one of his. He lifted her easily, the girl weighing less then a pillow. She hung uselessly out of kicking distance, and the sickly man approached her slowly, grinning again.

The muscular man suddenly punched her, causing her vision to become blurred as stars sprouted across it. She cried out, and the man hit her again. She bit her lip so not to announce her pain again, fearing a third punch.

“Good girl.” The man laughed, pulling at a lock of her hair.

Her legs jumped up, kicking his arm away swiftly.

He laughed “Quite the feisty little girl, ain’t she.”

She glared at him, rage all over her face. But the icy feeling of fear settled on her heart, she knew all too well what they wanted of her.

Sure enough, the man suddenly shoved her onto the ground, jumping on her. She kicked and scratched, and he fought her until her arms and legs were pinned. She still struggled, though uselessly as they started laughing.

She closed her eyes and prayed, that if they could do one thing, that they would leave her alive.

That’s all she could wish for now.

* * *

They walked away laughing.

She slowly crawled away, blood and other bodily fluids coating her skin. She coughed up blood then, into the cold, harshly white snow. She could feel the damage they had done to her body, some of her ribs were broken, as were her left arm. She had lost some teeth, and apparently has bitten her tongue as well. She spit out the bitter iron tasting liquid angrily.

Her bones and insides ached, but she knew that if she found somewhere safe to sleep, she would live. Bruises and broken bones heal after all.

She just prayed that she would last that long, the cold settling in her mind, making her thoughts waver erratically. Her brain felt like fuzz, her thoughts incoherent as she drifted farther and farther into the darkness of her mind.

Sh…shit…

She closed her eyes.

* * *

Ame stared at her hands, the blood scarlet against her pale ivory skin.

The corpse lay beneath her, his blood still draining onto the streets.

She screamed.

* * *

The darkness in the barn was total around her small bed of hay, the night complete without even the hint of the moons ray.

Ame lay wide awake, her mind too busy to sleep.

The air around her was still, yet Ame couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had been clinging to her all day.

She yawned, her body’s way of protesting it’s lack of sleep.

She closed her eyes, and her world dissolved into dreams.

* * *

She woke up coughing, the air around her free of any oxygen, choking her and searing her lungs. She jerked up and dry heaved, retching painfully.

It’s smoke…

She leapt up, sprinting in the vague direction of the barn doors. She crashed through a burning wall and rolled, extinguishing the painful fingers of the flames that had attached themselves to her flesh.

”There she is!”
”MURDERER!”

”THIEF!”

”MONSTER!!”

Ame straightened slowly, her vision hazy and warping at the edges slightly. She put a hand over her eyes, panting heavily as her stomach protested the worlds continuous movement.

Da-dammit…I’m…too dizzy…

She retched, and this time her stomach allowed itself to be emptied, her stomach muscles spasming against the pain.

She coughed and panted in her breath, forcing herself to her feet, lifting her head to glare at the angry mob around her.

She smiled sardonically, a silver flash sparked over the mobs vision as she pulled out a small knife from the shirt of her clothes.

The world around her however, continued to spin uncontrollably, and she stumbled.

Archers pulled back their arrows.

The whistle of arrows surrounded her, drowning out all other sound.

She screamed.

* * *

Searing agony.

Scarlet blood.

Laboured breathing.

* * *

Her eyes opened slowly, and she stared upwards.

Blood continued to pulse past her chilled fingers, grasping at her torn flesh. The world continued to burn around her, tingeing the world red.

Like blood.

Ame breathed in slowly, blood bubbling out of her mouth.

She breathed once more, and then her body went still.

The sky started to pour, the raindrops falling onto the cooling corpse, washing the blood away from her ivory skin, already pale from Death’s touch.

* * *

The girl awoke, disorientated.

She looked around at the large street around her, crowded with humans. She frowned, confused.

A boy looked over at her, his hair darker then night.

”What’s your name?”

The girl looked up at him for a moment before a smile spread across her full lips.

”Ame.”

* * *

Years passed, many of them filled with pain and sadness.

Ever so slowly, Ame grew. Not only physically, but mentally as well.

So much blood, and so much death.

A man turned to her one day on the street, his clothing black.

He smiled.

* * *

Ame went through many decades of training, many of which she ended up hurting herself accidently.

But she grew more experienced, and soon was able to call forth her partner, her zanpaktou.

Ame walked through the halls silently, a bright smile on her face as she entered the hall full of her comrades and friends, and turned to face her idol, her heart full of love for the woman.

Maybe this was what a home was after all.

RP SAMPLE
• •

Spoiler:

It's called paragraphs.

Approved.