Kaishiro Higaonna, Shinigami.

Name: Kaishiro Higaonna

Age: Total – 120. Appears - 18

Height: 5ft 11.

Weight: 60kg

Gender: Male

Personality: A practical, hardworking man with little time for distractions. Kaishiro displays little emotion most of the time, but is capable of explosive rages should someone persist in irritating him. These are quite rare, however. He dislikes anyone who would stand in the way of his gaining strength without good reason, and doesn’t understand why someone wouldn’t strive to become more than they already are.

Appearance: Kaishiro is tall and skinny, with a mop of white hair and sharp green eyes. He smiles easily and often if something amuses him, but his restrained persona prevents him from wearing a permanent grin. He normally wears his uniform with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, and carries his blade on his left hip. He has an annoying tendency to stand with his arms folded in front of him, even when walking.

Sealed Zanpakuto: Kaishiro’s zanpakuto, Tetsakiri, is 62cm long, gunmetal grey and almost totally non-reflective. The hilt is simple and austere, with nothing but a simple guard to attract the eye.

Each character gets 60 skill points to assign to either:

Spirit power: 15

Speed: 15

Intelligence: 20

Fighting skill: 10

History/Background: Kaishiro Higaonna lived in southern Shikoku, where he died at the age of twelve in a fishing accident. A storm washed him overboard when he went out fishing with his father, rather than have him pay for another shiphand. He was drowned and his body never recovered.

On his arrival in the Soul Society, Kaishiro awoke in Rukon Twelve. His small adopted family helped him survive once his powers had started to manifest themselves, as he was the only one of them that seemed to require sustenance. Soon enough, his burgeoning powers were noticed by patrolling shinigami, who advised him to enrol in the Shinigami Academy. Despite initially being reluctant to leave his family in Rukon Twelve, Kaishiro eventually decided that it was almost certainly the best course of action, and so signed up with the Academy, filled with dreams of the Gotei Thirteen.

Rp sample:

Well, that could have gone better. Kaishiro watched in despair as his current Sensei glanced over the classroom at him, frowning. Oh, am I in for it now, he thought.

The blast had not been a recognisable kido. Even Kaishiro had no idea what spell he had just cast. He had been trying – against his better judgement – to use Hado 31, Red Flame Cannon. Naturally, using such a kido was years, if not decades ahead of him, and Kaishiro’s lack of experience and strength had resulted in the spell exploding in his hands. He slumped backwards onto the wooden floor of the training dojo, idly wondering where his eyebrows had gone. He looked up into the face of an irate Ikura-sensei.

‘Kaishiro, would you care to explain what you are doing sitting on my dojo floor?’

‘Nothing, sensei. That last one took a lot of energy-‘

‘Get up. Do not use such kido without more training.’ Then Ikura-sensei’s eyes softened. Slightly.

‘Try something more your level, like Hado 3.’

‘Hai, Sensei.’

Kaishiro got to his feet, swaying slightly. By now the whole dojo, some thirty students, were watching him. He hadn’t many friends, and that showed now. The room was filled with surreptitious clouds of whispers.

Deciding that blasting something would make him feel better, Kaishiro pointed his finger at one of the training targets that had been set up. Groggily, he chanted ‘Let the swallow chirp at its finest and emit its power. Hado 3, Crimson strike.’

The bolt of power leapt forth from his finger and sped across the room, causing a bright light that, for a moment, eclipsed the weak evening sun. For an instant, shadows danced across the walls as unnerved shinigami-in-training cowered from the destructive display of Kaishiro’s ability. Then the Hado hit the target with a flash of discharging energy, causing a bank of dust to sweep the room.

Ikura-sensei walked over to inspect the damage. When the dust cleared, al that was left was a training dummy, with one small hole in its throat. Behind the dummy, a circle of wall three inches in diameter had disappeared. Unbeknownst to those in the dojo, a tree halfway down the garden outside now bore a perfectly circular indentation on one side of its trunk.

‘Hmm. A distinct improvement on last time. More work on your control is needed, however, Kaishiro.’

‘Hai, sensei!’