The Forgotten One [complete]

General Information:

-Full Name: Kazuma Izumi

-Nicknames/Aliases/Titles: "The Forgotten One" or "wasuremono"

-Noteable Family: none

-Loyalties: none

-Actual Age 149

Appearance:

-Appearance:

Spoiler:

-Preferred Wardrobe: Prefers to wear the usual shingami uniform, however, enjoys wearing a tattered captains jacket.

-Height: 4'11"

-Weight: 176.34 lbs.

-Physical Age: 12

Race Specific Information:

-Former Squad: 7th Division third seat.

-Gigai Description: Has a very normal personallity. Though can be out of hand sometimes, and has a rather large temper.

Character/Player Bio:

-Personality: Kazuma is an emotionally crashed person, basically, little emotion escapes from him. He usually has an emotionless expression across his face. And speaks in a dark, calm voice. He has a habit of ending his sentences with grunts such as "Hm?" or "Yeah?".
He also has a very calm hand with the sword, adn believes it to be his soul. His soul combined with another. Though he does maintain control and inner peace with himself. He will usually leave people alone if they dont do anything to him. However, when they do something in order to harm him he shall attack, no holding back. He doesn't believe in mercy unless they dont deserve to die, but that is unless he takes a brief moment in his mind to debate wether or not they should live. He is sometimes tempted by his hollow. But he remains to maintain control of the beast that resides inside of him. He demands control, and he is very aggresive, and goes on with no fear.

-Rank: Elite

-History:

Born into Lonlieness

The child, the child that was born minutes before the bloodshed of his own parents. He lay there, softly weeping ino the night as he was underneath the corpse of his mother. Though an interesting sound entered the air that night. The soft sound of rain pattering on the roof. The child was able to escape, out into the rain, and began to drink the refreshing liquid, water. It replenished him with hope. Though ahead of him, hope would come at a price.

The Izumi family had had an enemy for many years, it was a group of ronin who would always butcher and plunder their village. But the leaders, his now dead parents, lived on for an unknown reason. The ronin saw that the child had found his way out of the asylum that was called his home. These ronin identified him as the young prince of Izumis. And they snatched him away, taking him into a world, where everything, was nothing. Loneliness. It was what the child was born into, no one loved him, only abused him, tortured him, and housed him poorly. And made a fool out of him. It was humiliating, until he found a way to get back at them.

Payback

At the age of twelve, he decided that he would try and free himself from this hellhole. The massive complex that used to be a high school. However, he found a stash of weapons. And he picked up a sword, crafted by the Izumi blacksmiths. Legendary for their carefulness in the making of the blade.
He hid the all too familiar blade in his room, while he was litterally starved outside, where he would only be beaten. But one day, as he left his bedroom, a glint in his hand, the tables had turned.

Little Kazuma had taught himself how to use a sword. And he charged into an army of ronin warriors. The blade seemed to create music with the clashes and slices it made in metal and flesh, Kazuma seeming to dance as he used his weapon to cut down the entire army. But it ended Ironically, with his own sword, an enemy yanked it from his hands, and beheaded him with it.

All the more suffering

As a young looking plus soul, he wandered where he used to live for long periods of time, until he would simply drift into more urban areas. Where the spiritually aware people would call him "The Forgotten one". But soon enough, he had to go through the process of hollowfication. but something went different. Instead of his body exploding and he turning into a hollow, the mask formed by force in his own physical state.
It was excruciating, the pain that occured through his body, the loud screams piercing the air for no one to hear or listen to. But with enough will power, he was able to fight off the mask, with a large explosion. He came back, as a shinigami. hollowfied, but not knowingly so.

He was lead to the soul society, where he was put through training in the academy of soul reapers. It was very difficult, but he managed to make it through. In a good hundred years, of course. Now at the age of 175, he graduated and was put into the third seat of his division.

Battles

Kazuma would commonly set out on patrol, but mainly battling hollows.
It was not a very exciting job, but every once in a while he would be called to a skirmish with arrancars. Which was more amusing. However. What he was about to find that he had something that dwelled inside of him.

Battle for Oneself

Kazuma paced in his bedroom, thinking about the conflict ahead of him. Something was wrong, terribly terribly wrong. He heard it again, the dark voice that called to him, "Pathetic Child! You should be more careful! next time don't let anything in!". It was too much for Kazuma, and he forced his palms and tried to seal his ears shut, but he could still hear the voice clearly, "Who are you!?" he called. The being merely said, "I have no name."

Kazuma then suddenly let himself go, after locking the door and securing him and was in total seclusion. And the world turned upside down.
He saw the hollow, who was merely staring at him, black and white, the exact same appearance. Holding the same exact zanpokto, though only white and black.
Kazuma drew his own blade, and stood there for what seemed to be an eternity.

He flashed stepped, appearing right behind the hollow and slashing straight across his back, the hollow sonido'd away and came back, charging and screaming, on the outside, the hollow wreaking havoc.
Kazuma sidestepped and parried, but the hollow was very sly and evasive. No matter what kido he used, the hollow would survive or escape the attack. Until he made a wrong move. Kazuma broke the arm of the hollow and aimed the blade at his temple, "Give up." were the only two words that escaaped Kazuma. Almost immeadiately the world faded. Until he noticed behind him he had destroyed a bunch of houses. "Shit." he said. And ran away, far away, he knew where he would have to go, the vizard mansion.

Training for a mask

Kazuma reached the mansion, and was almost immediately put through training. At last, he had proper skills. Though he did take a large beating from his hollow and his trainers. Until, at last, he was pronounced as a vaizard. But with no bankai. Big deal. He would train for one. And he fights to this day, though seeking knowledge and care from one. his sister. Kiniko.


-Roleplay Samples: ((from a friedns site. Hope it will suffice))
The air was dry, in need of water, just to nourish the life inside this bubble. It needed water, but water with no tax. It needed strength, but strength with no limits. It saddened the dark haired man who simply stood on a house not too far from the palace courtyard. The fresh aroma of flowers filled the air, even as a butterfly, perhaps a dead one, fluttered just beneath the little man's nose. The boy, if you look closely, had blue hair that he had in a pony tail, and a tattered captains jacket. He carried a rather small zanpoktou, but the power it wielded was extrordanary, true art. However, if you look deeper into the large, boy eyes of the little one, you shall see his past, even if had not remembered it.
The boy's name, if you had not known, was Kazuma, though his appearance was young, appearing to be eight years old, was litterally was ove a century and a half more. The boy was a rouge, if you had not noticed what was embroidered under the eleventh division symbol on his jacket, it said, "King of Rouges". A title he little child enjoyed being called by, though he was not on the ordinary mission of a rouge willing to destroy the seretei. He wanted his sister, and he wanted her now. He wanted to bring an era of peace in his clan.
He opened his palm, a lilly seemed to be embroidered on his hand, though it was unremovable, he wondered if his sister had this sign, a sign of damnation of his clan, and being the youngest one, with some of the strongest power, he clenched the tattoo, which fired white hot pain through his entire body, nearly forcing tears straight out of his eyes. He could not bare the sense of pain and lonlieness no longer, it was either this, or a war for his sister. Something like the trojan war. But that would not happen in the world again. The Odyesseus that resided here in the soul soceity thousands of years ago vanished into the jaws of a hollow.
Not even the gods could possibly understand this pain Kazuma faced. It was now or never. He aimed his palm and four fingers, the thumb on his left hand keeping his zanpokto in place, and muttered, "Hiryugekizokushintenraiho". The word slipped from his lips like running waer, almost nourishing the air as he said the sylables as if the were the most beutiful poetry one's ear can hear. The large beam of electricity mixed with kidou sped toward a watch tower, the few guards insie screaming flesh ripping shrieks as the building tumbled, burning. "Give me my sister, Gin.", he said, "I will not stand the weight any longer!"