Seamus
Voodoo Gnomes
Mango told me to do this.
Age: 54
Age at Death: 21
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 161lbs
Cameron knew the world of sound, loud, soft, tender, garish...for all of five years before his hearing was robbed from him by the savage fevers that wracked his body courtesy of a virus. Yet he learned, more by necessity than any conscious choice, to live with his disablement. By the age of nine he could lip read and sign reasonably well. By the age of fifteen, however, his own natural tenacity and defiance of his disability drove him to learn, once again, how to speak.
Persevering and strong, nothing seems to ever bring Cameron down. He seems to be driven to see the best in people and show only the best of himself to them in return. He remains almost unearthly calm in any situation as he firmly, no, absolutely, believes that with a little patience and thought, it will turn out well.
In day to day situations, Cameron is animated, lively, even if his speech is labored and slow. Always double checking to make sure that he interpreted things correctly -- though he makes mistakes with interpretation of what he reads on the lips of others not infrequently -- some have said that he is almost too cautious out of fear of offending someone who does not know him.
Trapped in time at the age of 21, Cameron remains youthful in appearance, but not so much so that he looks younger. His dignity and poise in the face of his disability lend him a mature air that seems to have carried over into the way he carries himself, holding his head and gestures in conversation. That said, his pristine uniform, always neatly pressed and starched makes him seem more up tight and rigid than he actually is.
He keeps his short beard neatly trimmed as it frames his jawline and his hair is always immaculately combed and styled. His eyes are deep brown, almost black, yet are alive with inner mischief and humor.
Specific and detailed accounts of exactly what Cameron did during the dry and dusty years he spent as a free soul are few and far between. Since his acceptance into the Shinigami fold, he has remained remarkably tight-lipped about his past. Whether he is protecting something, someone, trying to bury a unforgivable deed, nobody really knows and since he has not demonstrated psychopathic tendencies or indeed any tendencies toward unsavory behavior it has become the general assumption that he will speak of his past when he has a reason to.
What is known is that the young man was discovered leading a large, nomadic group of souls with strong environmentalist leanings. The young Wolf's band traveled the parched badlands of the outermost districts, bringing with them trees, grasses and other vegetation from the interior. It was through this that Cameron's inate power started to awaken and grow. As he worked with the land, the trees, the grasses parts of his energy began to flow into the plants his group worked with; they continued like this, taking pleasure in the restoration they brought to the broken and cracked land. However, unknown to Cameron and his group, their oddly successful plants and their somewhat hard-line stance on environmental conservation were beginning to draw the attention of the Gotei Fifth Division. It wasn't long after they started to draw attention to themselves that Cameron was spirited away and set on the path of a Shinigami.
Cameron Wolf - 10th Division, Unseated
Reiatsu: 6,329
~ Kaja ~ 6,962 ~
Zanjutsu: 0
Hakuda: 2,000
Hohou: 1,732
Kidou: 2,523
Sample Chapter -- N.B. This is the first in a series.
Reeling from a blow he did not remember taking, Cameron stared with flickering sight up at a blue sky as the sound of wind on grass filled his ears.
...The sound of grass.
That was an impossibility. Cameron knew that as well as he knew his own name. He'd lost the ability to experience sound as the price for being able to survive a terrible virus as a child. Nothing could restore the inner membranes of his ears that had baked and died in the heat of the fevers that had wracked his body as a very small boy.
So why then could he hear.
His vision flickered and for a moment all he could see was a lithe body and a mouthful of teeth; the scent of ozone and shattered steel came unbidden to his nose; phantom reiatsu pressed against his soul, crushing him down, down and grinding him into the pavement. For a dreadful moment he relived a still frame of battle. The recollection faded as quickly as it had come leaving him winded and confused. The young Shinigami wasn't entirely sure but he thought that that memory was from sometime before he had opened his eyes to the crystal clear blue sky above him. Had that been what had done it? Had that hollow, and it could only have been a Hollow; of that Cameron was sure--nothing else in the world could fill his mind with such a potent sense of fatalism--had that Hollow's blow struck him and somehow bent the attacking reiatsu to such a frequency that it had healed his ears?
Sitting up with a groan, the young man rubbed an aching hand to his neatly trimmed beard. Even for a Shinigami--beings who made the impossible possible on a daily basis--that seemed like a bit of a stretch.
Healing Hollows? Cameron almost laughed at his own audacity and resigned himself to be patient; answers would surely present themselves in time. He had let himself, then, enjoy a completely unguarded moment of pure bliss and profound relief as sounds that he had thought existed only in memories of a childhood he could scarcely recall filled his mind.
Move. Kaja's voice was like glass shattering in a bucket and it seemed to come from everywhere and within him at the same time; unexpectedly cold and sharp it jarred him from his thoughts. Move. You were never one for Divination so the chances of you being able to divine what happened are basically nonexistent so get moving, find some people so we can get questions. How did we even get here? Last I remember we were fighting in a parking lot. Where are the others? Why do you keep twitching like you have a palsy?
Cameron cringed inwardly--
I felt that, came a terse snap.
It would seem that his Kaja, the only apparent ally he had left, had recovered enough to start asking her questions. He knew better than to delay his answers. She would continue to ask until satisfied.
I don't know, how we got here. I don't even really remember where we were. I just remember something fierce taking all of us out in one. I don't know where the others are: I came to alone in this grass. I guess that would be because I can hear. His reply was a gentle mockery of his sword's quickfire questions but there was no real bite to it.
So big deal, you can hear. There's something weird about all this, I wouldn't count on your renewed senses lasting long. This feels weird.
I agree, long experience had taught Cameron that arguing with his zanpakto without good reason was an excellent way to waste hours upon hours of time.
For starters, we could move. Pick a direction, any direction and hopefully we'll run into people.
Feeling somewhat chastened, Cameron started to walk.
A soft rustling of feathers roused the figure reclining elegantly on the beautifully upholstered chez-longue. Positioned in front of a great window, sunlight, warmly yellow and soft in tone poured in through the great panes of glass striking great shafts of light onto the sofa and into the shadows of the room. In the air, swirls and eddies of dust shifted and flowed, twining about one an other the flying apart as though they had been choreographed in some great, chaotic dance. Yet, even this radiance paled as it drew near the woman who had drawn herself onto her side, propped on one elbow. She commanded the instant attention of any who beheld her for she was no normal woman. Where as the sunlight shone, she shone on, brilliant white radiance poured from somewhere just beyond her frame. She was naked, but that did not concern her. Her face was deeply lined by the passage of countless ages, yet still her haughty and aristocratic features and bearing were as undiminished as the day she had risen from the reishei of this place. Great wings of white feathers beat gently against the sofa as she regarded her visitor.
"You," when she spoke, she spoke with the voices of the countless more, "Mikael you should know better than to disturb me here. This is the inner most of my chambers. To intrude here...your life in payment for your sin."
"Great Lady, it will be so; I must first tell you something of great importance," the messenger shuddered as if the news he carried scared him to the very core of his being, "Atrix was careless. One of them slipped through to this side."
Cameron Wolf
10th Division, Unseated.
AIM: nateayerss
10th Division, Unseated.
AIM: nateayerss
Age: 54
Age at Death: 21
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 161lbs
Persona
Cameron knew the world of sound, loud, soft, tender, garish...for all of five years before his hearing was robbed from him by the savage fevers that wracked his body courtesy of a virus. Yet he learned, more by necessity than any conscious choice, to live with his disablement. By the age of nine he could lip read and sign reasonably well. By the age of fifteen, however, his own natural tenacity and defiance of his disability drove him to learn, once again, how to speak.
Persevering and strong, nothing seems to ever bring Cameron down. He seems to be driven to see the best in people and show only the best of himself to them in return. He remains almost unearthly calm in any situation as he firmly, no, absolutely, believes that with a little patience and thought, it will turn out well.
In day to day situations, Cameron is animated, lively, even if his speech is labored and slow. Always double checking to make sure that he interpreted things correctly -- though he makes mistakes with interpretation of what he reads on the lips of others not infrequently -- some have said that he is almost too cautious out of fear of offending someone who does not know him.
Physical
Trapped in time at the age of 21, Cameron remains youthful in appearance, but not so much so that he looks younger. His dignity and poise in the face of his disability lend him a mature air that seems to have carried over into the way he carries himself, holding his head and gestures in conversation. That said, his pristine uniform, always neatly pressed and starched makes him seem more up tight and rigid than he actually is.
He keeps his short beard neatly trimmed as it frames his jawline and his hair is always immaculately combed and styled. His eyes are deep brown, almost black, yet are alive with inner mischief and humor.
Biography
In years as Shinigami perceive them, Cameron Wolf would be seen as barely a toddler by the more ancient members of the Gotei. At just 54 years old--and only 33 of them as a spirit--the young Wolf is very much the wet behind the ears newbie. Thus far, his notable adventures and trials as a member of the Tenth Division number enough to be counted on one hand. However...if you follow his life back to the decade and a half he spent as a free soul in Rukongai it becomes apparent why the shinigami took a keen interest in his education, offering him a spot in the Academy and entrance into the 10th immediately after graduation. Specific and detailed accounts of exactly what Cameron did during the dry and dusty years he spent as a free soul are few and far between. Since his acceptance into the Shinigami fold, he has remained remarkably tight-lipped about his past. Whether he is protecting something, someone, trying to bury a unforgivable deed, nobody really knows and since he has not demonstrated psychopathic tendencies or indeed any tendencies toward unsavory behavior it has become the general assumption that he will speak of his past when he has a reason to.
What is known is that the young man was discovered leading a large, nomadic group of souls with strong environmentalist leanings. The young Wolf's band traveled the parched badlands of the outermost districts, bringing with them trees, grasses and other vegetation from the interior. It was through this that Cameron's inate power started to awaken and grow. As he worked with the land, the trees, the grasses parts of his energy began to flow into the plants his group worked with; they continued like this, taking pleasure in the restoration they brought to the broken and cracked land. However, unknown to Cameron and his group, their oddly successful plants and their somewhat hard-line stance on environmental conservation were beginning to draw the attention of the Gotei Fifth Division. It wasn't long after they started to draw attention to themselves that Cameron was spirited away and set on the path of a Shinigami.
Cameron Wolf - 10th Division, Unseated
Reiatsu: 6,329
~ Kaja ~ 6,962 ~
Zanjutsu: 0
Hakuda: 2,000
Hohou: 1,732
Kidou: 2,523
Sample Chapter -- N.B. This is the first in a series.
Parallel State
1006 words
I'm reallllly sorry if this doesn't make sense or seems completely strange right now. All will be revealed when I post the rest.
1006 words
I'm reallllly sorry if this doesn't make sense or seems completely strange right now. All will be revealed when I post the rest.
Reeling from a blow he did not remember taking, Cameron stared with flickering sight up at a blue sky as the sound of wind on grass filled his ears.
...The sound of grass.
That couldn't be right.
He hadn't heard a thing since he'd been alive.
There it was again when the wind gusted. He hadn't heard a thing since he'd been alive.
He could hear.
That was an impossibility. Cameron knew that as well as he knew his own name. He'd lost the ability to experience sound as the price for being able to survive a terrible virus as a child. Nothing could restore the inner membranes of his ears that had baked and died in the heat of the fevers that had wracked his body as a very small boy.
So why then could he hear.
His vision flickered and for a moment all he could see was a lithe body and a mouthful of teeth; the scent of ozone and shattered steel came unbidden to his nose; phantom reiatsu pressed against his soul, crushing him down, down and grinding him into the pavement. For a dreadful moment he relived a still frame of battle. The recollection faded as quickly as it had come leaving him winded and confused. The young Shinigami wasn't entirely sure but he thought that that memory was from sometime before he had opened his eyes to the crystal clear blue sky above him. Had that been what had done it? Had that hollow, and it could only have been a Hollow; of that Cameron was sure--nothing else in the world could fill his mind with such a potent sense of fatalism--had that Hollow's blow struck him and somehow bent the attacking reiatsu to such a frequency that it had healed his ears?
Sitting up with a groan, the young man rubbed an aching hand to his neatly trimmed beard. Even for a Shinigami--beings who made the impossible possible on a daily basis--that seemed like a bit of a stretch.
Healing Hollows? Cameron almost laughed at his own audacity and resigned himself to be patient; answers would surely present themselves in time. He had let himself, then, enjoy a completely unguarded moment of pure bliss and profound relief as sounds that he had thought existed only in memories of a childhood he could scarcely recall filled his mind.
Move. Kaja's voice was like glass shattering in a bucket and it seemed to come from everywhere and within him at the same time; unexpectedly cold and sharp it jarred him from his thoughts. Move. You were never one for Divination so the chances of you being able to divine what happened are basically nonexistent so get moving, find some people so we can get questions. How did we even get here? Last I remember we were fighting in a parking lot. Where are the others? Why do you keep twitching like you have a palsy?
Cameron cringed inwardly--
I felt that, came a terse snap.
It would seem that his Kaja, the only apparent ally he had left, had recovered enough to start asking her questions. He knew better than to delay his answers. She would continue to ask until satisfied.
I don't know, how we got here. I don't even really remember where we were. I just remember something fierce taking all of us out in one. I don't know where the others are: I came to alone in this grass. I guess that would be because I can hear. His reply was a gentle mockery of his sword's quickfire questions but there was no real bite to it.
So big deal, you can hear. There's something weird about all this, I wouldn't count on your renewed senses lasting long. This feels weird.
I agree, long experience had taught Cameron that arguing with his zanpakto without good reason was an excellent way to waste hours upon hours of time.
For starters, we could move. Pick a direction, any direction and hopefully we'll run into people.
Feeling somewhat chastened, Cameron started to walk.
ELSEWHERE
A soft rustling of feathers roused the figure reclining elegantly on the beautifully upholstered chez-longue. Positioned in front of a great window, sunlight, warmly yellow and soft in tone poured in through the great panes of glass striking great shafts of light onto the sofa and into the shadows of the room. In the air, swirls and eddies of dust shifted and flowed, twining about one an other the flying apart as though they had been choreographed in some great, chaotic dance. Yet, even this radiance paled as it drew near the woman who had drawn herself onto her side, propped on one elbow. She commanded the instant attention of any who beheld her for she was no normal woman. Where as the sunlight shone, she shone on, brilliant white radiance poured from somewhere just beyond her frame. She was naked, but that did not concern her. Her face was deeply lined by the passage of countless ages, yet still her haughty and aristocratic features and bearing were as undiminished as the day she had risen from the reishei of this place. Great wings of white feathers beat gently against the sofa as she regarded her visitor.
"You," when she spoke, she spoke with the voices of the countless more, "Mikael you should know better than to disturb me here. This is the inner most of my chambers. To intrude here...your life in payment for your sin."
"Great Lady, it will be so; I must first tell you something of great importance," the messenger shuddered as if the news he carried scared him to the very core of his being, "Atrix was careless. One of them slipped through to this side."
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