Síofra ó Murchadha [FINISHED]

[Síofra ó Murchadha]

Shinigami

Síofra ó Murchadha

"Allow me to introduce myself."

Name: Síofra ó Murchadha
Apparent Age: A fit looking 70
Actual Age: 981
Gender: Male
Height & Weight: 5'6" 180 lbs
Eye & Hair Color: Pale green and dark grey.
Reiatsu Color: Dark green.

"I define who I am."

Appearance:

It was a lonely Saturday near the end of autumn and I had just finished giving testimony in a case involving criminal geometry; the Greek mob got a bright idea on how to branch out from the usual addition and subtraction racket, and had spent a month drawing tidy little shapes around the city mayor. I was sitting down to enjoy an evening smoke, watching the black and white spirals of shadow and excess of the lung and cigarette trail lustily across the spotted whitewash of my office, when there was a knock on my door.

It was late, and I was tired, but I had been in this business long enough to know that when it's late on a Saturday and you're worn out from the last case you worked more often then not it's a beautiful dame who's on the other side of the door. So I said, "Come in." The door opened.

He was short, maybe five six, five seven. His hair ran down his back all the way to the waist, tied in a braid as thick as my wrist, dark grey; the same color as the barrel of the .38 I kept in the right drawer of my desk for emergencies. I prayed he wasn't one, but I had no way to be sure. His face was a closed book to me. One with tan leather binding and deep creases to be more precise, and I while couldn't quite make out the title, stylistically he was seventy years out of date. It would have been rude to stare at the scar splitting his left cheek right down the middle, so I did my best to focus on examining the rest of him.

Unfortunately for me, there wasn't much else to examine. He had a black robe on, one of those Shihakushōs you see in the pulps about the spirit warriors of Japan, only his didn't have sleeves. I almost went for the .38 in my desk when I saw the bastard sword tucked into the sash, but I took one more look up and down (Did I mention his straw sandals? I missed that I suppose, well anyway, he was wearing some. White socks too) that strange museum piece and decided that bullets might just bounce off.

There was a peculiar kind of age to the man, that tan skin wasn't hanging off him the way you see in some old timers. No, it was stretched taught over every bone in his face, on his arms too, outlining muscles I was ashamed to say looked slightly more exercised than my own, and I'm not much of a slouch. When I took a wealthy female client to see Julius Caeser several months later, well, that lean and hungry look Cassius is supposed to have? It reminded me of him.

He took a look at me too, with light green eyes I might have lingered over in a woman, said a few words I couldn't understand, and walked out of my office, just like that, with a straight back and a young man's gait.

I spent the next few hours puzzling over it all, but nothing made much sense. So, I just wrote it down in my files and marked it: CASE CLOSED

"And my actions define me."

Personality Traits:

Síofra is just as capable of feeling and expressing genuine sympathy, empathy, and compassion as any other soul, but his own history makes this difficult. Síofra experienced severe culture shock when he arrived in the Soul Society, despite remembering nothing of his former life. These two factors, combined with the lawlessness and dark fantasies of life outside the walls of the Seireitei, cultivated a feeling of unreality that has persisted ever since. Deep down, Síofra has doubts about the existence of anyone or anything beyond himself. This gives him a certain objectivity when it comes to analysis, but it also makes it more difficult for him to think of anyone, apart from close friends, in terms that are not either formal or technical.

In an effort to combat his feelings of unreality Síofra pledged himself to the laws and practices of the Seireitei as laid down by Central Forty-Six, a commitment he holds sacred. His pledge has taught him diligence and loyalty in both personal and formal activities, and it gives him certainty in action when confronting morally grey situations. But Síofra is not blind. Much of the Seireitei's law seems like opaque dogma, and he finds it troubling that general lawlessness is permitted in much of the Soul Society. Nevertheless, he performs his duties unflinchingly, though this provokes accusations of being just as dogmatic as those he serves.

These accusations and his rigid adherence to regulation only exacerbate Síofra's social difficulties. Having willfully isolated himself from others for the first two-hundred or so years of his life in the Soul Society, he lacks common social graces and is internally wary of anyone he has just met. Síofra is doing his best to change, and tries to be as friendly as possible, even if he doesn't feel particularly inclined to be. Age has taught him the value of good will.

Síofra has the benefit of nine-hundred and eighty-one years, though he only clearly recalls seven-hundred. His perspective is often of the larger canvas, or at least as much of it as he can see. Watching souls change over seven-hundred years has driven the point home that while forgiveness and compassion are labor intensive virtues, everyone deserves a chance.

"One more thing."

Additional information: N/A

"May Juryokuju have mercy on your soul."

Inner World: Wind rushes over a churning sea of black water stretching for as far as the eye can see, vanishing only as it nears the horizon into roiling clouds of white fog. A mountain island stands at the very center of the world, sheer cliffs of grey limestone rising out of the water, pockmarked with the entrances to smooth tunnels of varying height, all whistling as the wind sweeps by.

After rising for hundreds of feet above the pounding waves the cliffs transition into a more gentle slope of heaped rock and dark soil dotted with tufts of grass. The mountain rumbles near constantly as the cliffs below fracture under the assault of the waves, rock piles higher than most men shifting like sand dunes in a constant windstorm, some sliding off the mountain entirely, dissolving into the sea. Wisps of fog dart between them, flowing upwards towards the peak.

The same fog that shrouds the horizon hides the sun and higher slopes from view, but those who reach the top will find the gigantic Atlas Cedar Juryokyuju.

Zanpakuto Spirit: Juryokyuju stands rooted at the very peak of Síofra's inner world. His roots twist into and around tumbled masses of limestone, moving ever so slowly as the mountain rumbles beneath. Solid ridges and cracks in the bark creak as they bleed into and out of one another like ripples on the surface of a pond; concentric circles and interlocking patterns of knots slowly appear, only to vanish within an hour.

Branches as thick as a man's waist spread from a central trunk easily six feet in diameter, stretching upwards to its final point at ninety-seven feet. Deep green needles that catch the light with a metallic sheen cover the ends of each branch and twig, chiming softly in the wind as they brush against each other. Finally, six feet from the ground and framed by unmoving bulges in the deep brown bark, a rough oval gash three feet across and a foot high reaches all the way to the red heartwood. A sphere of amber sap like the pupil of a gigantic eye rests within the gash, streams of clear water trickling across the surface.

Juryokyuju speaks in whispers that have no visible source, and perhaps from some difficulty in speech he mostly keeps his sentences short and to the point, answering questions with more questions. He is normally serene, sometimes eerily so, and only speaks with emotion when powerfully moved. Because of this his moods and motivations remain largely a mystery.

Síofra has respect for the advice Juryokyujo offers, often in the form of a question, for while his questions are often frustrating they have never been cruel or without purpose. Though their first meeting was anything but friendly, Síofra has come to rely on Juryokyuju for support in his lowest moments.

Sealed Zanpakuto: A longsword, or "bastard" sword, with a hilt length and blade profile that fall neatly into the Oakeshott typology category XVIIIb (pictured third from the left). The blade is thirty-six inches long, the hilt ten, wrapped in plain black leather that terminates in a type T scent stopper pommel. The quillons are of style five, or "Bow tie". A wholly unremarkable sword.

Shikai: "Endure, Juryokyuju!" The blade and crossguard of the longsword shatter as the leather grip withers to dust under Síofra's fingers leaving nothing but four inches of the tang. The metal glows green, rippling as a thin steel branch erupts outwards from the forward end. In the space of two seconds the branch has completed its growth at forty-two inches, straight as an arrow, thick needles sprouting all along its length. The needles tilt, orienting themselves towards the end of the branch then flatten themselves into it, locking together as they overlap to form a slender rapier blade.

Three more branches sprout from the hilt, two spiraling opposite each other in a circular guard, the third twining around the tang in a wire grip. The fragments of the sealed state sword fly to Síofra's left hand, settling over it and resizing into a scale mail glove as a small pine cone grows from the back of the tang, completing the transformation.

Shikai Ability: Juryokyuju has the ability to propel any number of the needles that compose its blade forward as projectiles at roughly the speed of a bullet. These may then be used as seeds for further techniques.

"What's past is past."

Background:

Click to open
1039 AD

Part One:

1052 AD

Interlude One:

1052 AD

Part Two:

1056 AD

Interlude Two:

1309 AD

Part Three:

1544 AD

Interlude Three:

1544 AD

Part Four:

1547 AD and Onward...

Desired Position: I can't say I wouldn't enjoy being a Captain or Lieutenant, but that's a lot to ask. The only rank I have strong feelings against would be raw recruit.

Several writing samples have been given within the background.

[Síofra ó Murchadha]

There are a few things in Síofra's backstory, particularly in his wanderings of the Soul Society that, while they don't blatantly contradict any point of BLEACH's metaphysics or organizing principles, are not seen in canon or cannot be tied obviously to any one concept. If these are problematic I can do my best to remove them.

I also hope that Juryokyuju's sealed state can be permitted. My rationale for its unique shape is that Síofra is a westerner, and while the longsword and katana differ greatly both have become ubiquitous as the weapon of the higher class warrior, be it knight or samurai.

I definitely rushed the last part of the background, but it's probably for the best, and the application is finally finished!

[Izumi Tenshi]

Okay I noted the sealed zan and I'll make an exception on it. As far your app in general...

APPROVED

I will award you with 400 EP which is the rank of Lieutenant. Honestly your app to me is Captain level however I'm hesitant about rewarding such a position to someone who isn't quite active. So with this if you prove that you can be active then I have no qualms with allowing you to progress to Captain rank. That said pick the squad you want to be a member of. <<

[Síofra ó Murchadha]

Thank you, I can certainly understand not making a completely new member a captain, even Lieutenant was more than I thought I could hope for. I definitely plan on being more active now that my application is finally done.

So far as I have seen the Second Squad Lieutenant's spot is open and seems like a good fit for Síofra. I'll copy and paste the application into Character Bios and work on his stat configuration and techniques.

[Síofra ó Murchadha]

...Or you can copy and paste it? Sorry, I don't have the clearence to post in that area of the forum yet o_o;;

[Izumi Tenshi]

<_< No I'll move this thread now to the Bio section. Then I'll assign your color.

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