-Superhuman-
General Information:-Full Name:Aristotle Basileios.
-Nicknames/Aliases/Titles:His former alias was "Aristos Telos", the roots of his first name. He has also gone by several different names, usually having a meaning of some sort or another. He has currently reverted to his birth name however.
-Noteable Family:Mother and Father both Deceased.
-Loyalties:Himself
-Actual AgeUnknown, Though he appears to be about 19. Anyone who was around a generation ago during the original events of Arrancar Dynasty would be suprised to see that he hasn't changed in appearence much, still looking the exact same age.
Appearance:-Appearance:Aristotle Basileios is approximately 6 feet tall, give or take an inch. This means that with the average japanese height of a male being 5'8", he is quite a bit taller then most people in japan. He seems to use this to his advantage quite a bit, as the taller person can quite often easily gain the upper hand.
His hair is a sandy blonde color, a bit in defiance of his greek and italian ancestry, and is straight with only a slight curl, also in defiance of his ancestry. He usually keeps it a bit long, covering his forehead at the least, but has been known to get bored and simply shave it all off. However, he rarely does this, as it would expose the soft downy feathers that tend to grow out of his scalp overnight.
His physique is rather well maintained, although noone actually ever sees him workout. This is an interesting incongruiety, however noone really questions it, merely assuming he works out in private or something similar. His body is well muscled, though not in any extreme way. He has defined pectorals and Abs, his biceps are large, Etc etc. Nothing too big, because big muscles draw too much attention. However, lying within his little muscles is the strenght of several men three times his size, a fact he usually keeps hidden.
His eyes are a soft blue color, almost gentle. However, depending on the situation, the color can almost seem cruel, especially when it's filled with his cruel intent. They will sometimes perform a trick, and inbetween blinks they will turn completely yellow, except for a black slitted iris, effectively turning avian.
His inner body, as opposed to his outer body, is extremely strange. I'll start off with the most outwardly visible feature. His core temperature is at roughly 107 degrees celcius, meaning his body is at a temperature that melts most people's brains. Because of this he is extremely resistant to infectious diseases, as most simply die upon entry to his body. Because of this his skin is also much warmer, basically he always feels like he's running a fever.
Now for something less obvious. His muscles are much denser then a normal persons, meaning that he is extremely strong despite his lack of large muscles. They are also much more efficient, meaning even if density was the same, he'd still be quite strong.
Now, with normal bones he'd break his body every time he punched. However he doesn't have normal bones. His bones are a semi-mix of Avian and Human characteristics, Featuring an extremely strong and structured webbing along with hyper dense bone, leaving a large amount of empty space while keeping the bone extremely strong. His bone's are only a little bit heavier than human bones because of the empty space.
His metabolism is extremely high, at least for humans, causing him to need vast amounts of calories. He eats quite often, and will usually have food and drink stashed somewhere upon his body. This is part of why his body is so warm, and why it has practically no fat upon it.
Now for one of the most outwardly visible, yet most hidden traits. He's got wings. Yep. Wings. Each one is roughly 9 feet long, giving him a total wingspan of 18 or 19 feet. Now you might think this would this be hard to hide, and in fact it would be. However Aristotle's wings bend rather strangely, First going down, then bending up and inside at the "elbow joint" then bending again at the "wrist" making their length approximately the same length as his back, allowing him to press them tightly against his spine, within little hollows seemingly made expressly for this purpose, hiding them very effectively. With the tensing of only a few muscles however he can easily flick them out, allowing flight.
-Preferred Wardrobe:Aristotle will be dressed in a variety of things, though usually it will be some mixture of jeans, an undershirt that is usually just a plain solid color T-shirt, and a long sleeved button down shirt. Atop this he will wear your average jacket, a black color with fuzzy white trim. No hood is seen upon the jacket, but really, is one needed? The main reason he wears the jacket is for the extra pockets, as he could honestly walk around the antartic naked and still feel warm.
-Height:6 ft~
-Weight:260~
-Physical Age:19
Race Specific Information:-Racial Affiliation:Hollow. As in his evolved form he has the ability to use Cero, it is definitly hollow.
Character/Player Bio:-Personality:Those who had been here 20 years ago, during the last major events in this world, would remember Aristotle to be a hired sword, a mercenary. However none would remember him as a cruel man, merely as a man wishing to find his own way.
However, that's changed. The influence of whatever spirit he harbors within him has turned him into a much more cruel and sadistic person. He will willingly and lazily inflict pain upon people, without even caring or paying attention.
Anyone who had known him then and meets him now would be shocked at the difference.
Now, as then, he has a large network of contacts, and he can easily gain information upon a person merely due to the corruption that has spread throughout the world. He used to be horrified by his own ease of access, but now he is amused by it.
-Rank:Rouge Elite
-History:Aristotle's history is a complete mystery to anyone. People know he was born, people know he must have lived, and people know some stuff must have happened. Beyond that, most people know little.
What might be known to someone is the events of twenty years ago. Aristotle, then known as Aristos Telos, Appeared seemingly out of nowhere to attempt an assasination upon the leader of the humans, Dr. Reaper jones, but was fought off.
He then apparently joined a group known as the Ryoushi, And was the last person to see Haru Rorack alive, and the story that was told was that he died fighting three vasto lordes. However the group collapsed soon after without Haru's Leadership, and Aristos didn't feel like putting in the effort to keep it going.
His final remembered act would have been a fight with the captain commander at the time, a very large man known as Yaouchi. The outcome of the fight is unknown, as neither man was seen again after this, the roof of the building having been collapsed from the combined spiritual pressure of the men, However both were assumed dead.
The truth is, that a few hours later, Aristotle rose from the ruins, And decided that this place bored him. He turned, and left.
Now, noone truely knows where he's been for the past twenty years, but of course i do and kenta is forcing me to write a longer history, so here it is.
After arriving in the human world, he was struck by..Nostalgia. The first place that he visited upon was the city of Stageira. Back during his life, if anyone had asked him, this would have been what he would have listed as his home, but it is truely? Noone knows this mans true history, so noone knows if the things he says are the truth, noone knows if what he says has substance or is merely a fabrication of his imagination to ward off unnecessary questions.
The good deal of those twenty years was spent wandering around most of europe, even going to america and siberia on occasion, Africa even during one year. However he diligently stayed away from Asia, realizing that this is the most centered place of spiritual activity. Perhaps a revelation came to him while he was buried under that rubble? Who knows, all that is known is that it is now 20 years later.
And now Aristotle Basileios is back.
-Roleplay Samples:Aristotle sighs. He's so fricken bored... He shifts slightly, Waking up a few muscles that the gargoyles sharp corners had sent to sleep. He looks down. He's probably about 100 feet off the ground. Some japanese person apparently really liked gargoyles, Cause this building has four..Aristotle is currently sitting on the one facing southwest. In the distance he can see the hell zone. Dispicable place, Aristotle has gone in there a few times to train his own powers...And with that though he feels something leave the hell zone. He's taken it upon himself to make sure nothing leaves that hellish place.. He jumps.
He falls for a good four seconds, His trench coat flapping around his elbows, Before his wings snap open, Sliding through slits in his shirt and in his trench coat, Expanding to their full width of sixteen feet, A Huge wing span. Anyone below him would see his wings silhouetted against the full moon, Would assume he's merely an illusion..Or a bird that's closer than it appears somehow, That must be it. No beast could have such huge wings, Certainly not a human, And such a wide tail, Which is in reality Aristotle's trench coat, Staying afloat on friction with the air. With a flap of his wings he begins to fly.
He's always loved flying..The liberating feeling, The wind rushing through his feathers. A few downy ones are freed from his hair by the rushing wind, He keeps his hair pretty plucked but there are always a few downy feathers in there. The cold air wakes him up, His alertness rising. He breathes the thin air easily, His lungs have adapted over the years, He's always thought them to be more efficent than most humans...Probably because of all the thin air he breathes. That's probably why he's so God damn crazy, He thinks with a spurt of humor.
He flies quickly, Not flapping as much as glides, Keeping afloat on thermals from the city, Hot air rising from buildings cooling off now that it's night. This way he makes it the several miles in only a few minutes. Anyone on the ground who his shadow passed over would probably not even be aware of it, It would be fleeting enough to be hidden by a blink.
He sets down lightly at the edge of the hell zone, His wings folding back into hiding. The hollow is somewhere around here...He closes his eyes briefly, And then they snap open again. The bastard is behind him. Ari spins around quickly, And sees the offending hollow, A large lizard shaped one, however it is qutie weak, Probably not even a menos. A large horn is formed on his mask, Going back from it's thin head. It opens it mouth and roars at Aristotle, The second row of teeth, on the inside gleaming in the blackness.
Aristotle doesn't hesistate, A large fireball forming above him and launching itself into the beast mouth. Part of it was solid, And rather sharp, Cutting into it, The mask cracking slightly from the sheer force, As not all of the crystal went into the beasts mouth. It closes it's mouth to try and prevent it from getting in, But that was a mistake. A shard of the mask crumbles away, Revealing the beasts eye. Aristotle ignores this. He can't afford to think of these beasts as humans...He would hesititate, Stop, Pray for their soul even. And while he's praying they would attack.
With ruthlessness he reappears behind the beast, Fire blazing around both of his arms, His trench coats sleeves mysteriously not being burned, As the fire turns into two huge spikes of crystal. He stabs these straight through the back of the beasts head, Going all the way through, And breaking the mask off. Although this would turn a menos into an arrancar, It turns this weak hollow into a dead soul, The entire body of it turning into spirit particles, Dissapating into the air. Aristotle alights onto the ground softly. Because of the way the menos turned his head, His back is now to the hell zone..And this is a mistake.
With a growl an adjuchas slams into his body, A claw or something penetrating through his trench coat, Cutting slightly into his shoulder. He is barely able to Fire flash away before it would have been a little serious. A flame burns over his shoulder, Healing the wound slowly, Stopping the bleeding immediately.
"Fucking..Bastard. You used that Hollow to get me off my guard.."
The adjuchas shifts. Now that Aristotle can see it clearly, It might even be related to that fucking hollow. It's body is lizard like, It's hollow mask seems to cover it's entire body, Scales on every part of it. Three horns are on it's long head, One on the top, And two on each of the lower sides, All facing straight back, And all parallel. It's eyes are both red, With flame designs over them, Spiraling up to meet and go straight up the middle horn. It's hands have long claws, And besides that two small spikes, About a foot beyond the middle finger, Coming out of it's wrists. Aristotle's blood drips from the tip of one of those spikes, That is what cut him. The beasts tail has a large mace like appendage on the end of it, The size of a small watermelon, Or a human head. It's blood red eyes focus on Aristotle.
I...I am Sliuthard. And i have come to free my master...
Not even given Aristotle time to consider the meaning of these words he charges, Stabbing at Aristotle with the spike. Expecting it this time he is much faster, Stepping to the side and twisting his body. Fire forming around his arm, Hardening into tens of spikes protruding forward. He punches the beast, The spikes stabbing into it, Breaking through it's scales, Piercing it's flesh.
The beast is not even phased. It's keeps moving, The spikes breaking off inside of it, The scales healing over quickly.... IT turns around mid step, Jumping up, Spinning in the air, The mace headed for Aristotle's head. He bends over backwards, Thanking his stars for flexibility. The beast lands, And keeps up it's relentless attack.
Aristotle, After desperatly bringing up pieces of fire crystal to block each attack, Each piece only good for one, Too brittle in his unreleased form to do any good. He Fire flashes away again, Unfurling his wings mid flash, Appearing in the sky, Fifty feet in the air, His wings unfurled, Flapping slowly.
"...You've pissed me off now."
Aristotle's entire demeanor changes, As he shirks off the coat. It falls to the ground slowly, And fire begins to burn on his entire body. His shirt is soon gone, But his jeans remain. His eyes turn yellow, His pupils becoming black and slit like. Soon changes wrack his entire body. A tail stabs through his jeans, Bare and pink, A bone spike on the end of it, Slithering out to four feet of length. His wings, His forearms, His lower legs and feet, They all seem to blaze in black fire, And as it ebbs and subsides they change. His wings are now pitch black, One in every six feathers however is a deep dark red, Contrasting slightly with the other feathers. On his forearms feathers grow rapidly, His entire arm up to his elbows becoming covered in feathers, All black, But then twelve grow around his wrists, Each one as long as his forearm, Each one a dark red. Three very short curved ones grow against his elbow, The end one resting on bare skin. Claws grow out of his fingers, each one two inches long, Each one super sharp.
On his legs the deal is repeated in a way. Black feathers stab through his jeans the entire way up, And a long red feathers stabs through his jeans at the knee, Going straight down to his feet, Stopping at half knee, The feahter is dark red, A stark contrast against the dark blue of the denim fabric the jeans is made from. His shoes have already melted, Forming puddles of steaming liqiud on the ground. His feet bulge slightly, The skin turning craggy and yellow, Becoming like the skin of a bird's talon. His nails turn into talons, However most barely go past the flesh, Except for the big toe. A large three inch long talon arcs from his toe.
Feathers grow rapidly on his four foot long tail, In the same distribution as on his wings, One red feather to every six black ones. A sort of mane of feathers forms at the place where the bone spike emerges, It is by now tipped by a short inch long blade, Making up a quarter of the four inch long bone weapon.
Feathers grow from his head, a huge long plumage forming, Almost like a native american headdress, Every single feather emerging from his scalp. A single red one shoots above the black plumage reaching halfway down his black, Almost like a crest.
As a final piece of this transformation two small horns emerge from this plumage, Curving upwards, However they are small, Not much use as weapons.
His movements are much quicker now as Fire flashes all around the beast, The blade feathers on his arms slashing at him, Cutting into his scales, A Flurry of movement. The beast is disoriented by this, And just flails around, Trying to hit aristotle, Who is always gone before his fists get there. All twelve feathers shoot up and he slams his fist into the beasts back, The twelve feathers penetrating the scales. Fire crystal grows from the feathers, Splintering through the beasts body before aristotle pulls away...Too slowly.
The beasts arm whips around, The spike, Which apparently has a bladed tip, Slashes through ari's shoulder, Amputating his entire left arm. Aristotle Gasps, Before fire flashing Away. His eyes turn red, Fire burns around his wings, And he has to stop himself from entering his second release.
"You...Fucking...Cocksucker.....You're dead now."
"Sliuthard will free his master..."
Fire burns around his stump, stopping the bleeding for now.
"My patience...Is at an end."
Ari raises his good hand, And fire begins to burn wildly between him and the beast as it charges at him. He closes his hand with force, And the entire fire storm turns to crystal, Millions of crystal piercing the beast from all angles, Skewering his body from every angle, Ripping the very flesh apart. Not even this beasts rapid healing ability could stop or prevent this, And Aristotle's certainty of this is proven as the beasts spiritual pressure evaporates, It is dead..Aristotle falls to the ground, Landing on his right side. He drags himself over to a wall and leans against it. He finnaly looks at the bloody stump, And then gasps slightly. It is gruesome. Apparently it wasn't cut through...But ripped straight through, The blunt force so great that it went straight through a bone. He can see small splinters of what use the be his fibula piercing out of the flesh. He averts his eyes as fire burns around it...It will take a while for this arm to be grown.
