Name: Leon Steelbane
Age: 820 appears late twenties
Appearance: Leon stands at Six feet and Four inches tall with a deceptively reserved muscular build. His silver locks are long and wild, spiking up about his face and on down his back terminating at his lower back. His Numero can be found on his left shoulder blade and his hollow hole is located on his right Pectoral. His eyes are a pale, steel blue. One should note that his skin appears to be in immaculate condition, not a single scar or blemish to be found.
Affiliation: Espada of Las Noches.
Position/Rank: Applying for Primera.
Immortality. His overpowers hollow healing abilities have allowed him to survive for centuries longer than he would have hoped. Though his memory does not reach back to his life as a human, a strong sense of regret is present in his personality, as he sees his life of hollowdom as a service to atone for his sins in life, even if he cannot remember what they are. In fact, the warrior has dedicated himself to a life of violence and pride as an Espada since his acquisition of his rank primarily in the hope of crossing blades with another soul capable of killing him. Finding no peace in his life and seeking none, He simply hopes for his eternity of an existence to end at the hands of an honorable and capable fighter, though not any will do, of course.
Conflicted with conscious and subconscious emotions, Leon tends to sway from one end of the spectrum to the other. He feels an exceptionally strong sense of duty to the honor of the Espada and carries their banner high into each battle. He is often the first to try to inspire others around him to take vigor in whatever task they have been commanded, while maintaining a respectable image himself. He feels conflicted if ordered to do something he feels to be "beneath him" as Primera and as an Espada, however honors all orders loyally.
Perhaps the reason for his strong ties to his feeling of pride is because of his conflicting feelings of shame or regret. His memory fails him of just what it was that the man was so guilty of, however he knows his action of life were severe enough to warrant his fate as a hollow, and what's more, he beleives in a cosmic force of justice. You see, his natural hollow essence carries a uniquely powerful healing factor, making him incredibly difficult to kill. As a result he feels that it is his fate to be denied a peaceful end, and to survive the centuries with his powerful guilt.
Though ever present, like a sinking in his gut, Leon strives to suppress his low thoughts and emotions, by painting a picture of an honorable cause under the banner of Las Noches, feeling that he truly is working towards something greater than himself. He has forced himself to believe this lie so wholly that if anyone should confront him about his darker moods, he simply laughs them off, dismissing their concerns as "nothing to worry about."
Feudal Japan saw the rise and fall of many great fighters, shogun and emperors. Warring factions often rivaled over land disputes as well as disputes of honor and impotence in leadership. As such, many castles fell to their rival states, and the Samurai who survived the collapse of their masters were either recruited, or banished as Ronin, or warriors without a master to lead them.
There was one Ronin, however, who embraced the exile he was sentenced to, as his Shogun fell to a rival state over the dispute of some woman. It seemed the wife of his master had become the mistress of his enemy, and eventually exposed vital Intel which lead to the fall of her husband's regime. Many villagers saw this as a blessing, seeing their Daiymo as a Tyrant and a Warmonger, but that was what this Ronin appreciated about the man, his willingness to take whatever action necessary to defend his superiority and honor as a leader, even underhanded tactics or oppressive, strict command of the resources of the region as well as it's citizens. The Ronin was one of the Shogun's best warriors, lethal on the battlefield and brutal in and out of combat. A womanizer and an alcoholic, the man lead a brazen and dark lifestyle of taking whatever he wanted, when he wanted, and killing any man who dared cross him. Many would see the timing quite unfortunate, that his master's rival had chosen to attack during the winter months, a time when the Ronin would venture out across the state and patrol the southern border. Without the prized warrior, the Shogun hadn't a chance and the Ronin was left isolated.
He saw it as freedom, as his dark habits became much darker. He recruited a posse of other Ronin, much like him. And the group of bandits raided village after village, Raping, pillaging, and slaying innocents for the sake of their own entertainment. The new ruling Daiymo of the region took the Ronin and his band of demons behavior to be unforgivable, and launched a private campaign to bring the evil man to justice. Attacking early in the morning, while the Ronin and his men were asleep, some of them still drunk from the night before, an Ambush raided his camp and slaughtered his men with minimal losses. He was captured and detained until the Shogun himself could arrive to finally eliminate this threat to his people. The man looked down upon the wild, detestable Ronin and cursed him, to never find peace in the afterlife, to forever seek to retrieve his honor, but never find it. The fate of a monster, a demon. And with that, the Ronin was beheaded, his body burned along with the rest of his men.
The spirit of this man lingered however, liberated from his mortal desires. True, a strong sense of guilt followed him into the next life, as he found himself chained to the very mound of as he where his corpse had once lied. He lingered there for a decade, milling over his sins, his follies, watching as his demise was celebrated and his name eventually forgotten. He eventually concluded that his fate was much deserved, that to be granted a peaceful, honorable death would never be a blessing he could experience. He knew that even in death, his curse would persist. Eventually, this drove the man mad, and eventually, as the Chain which lingered, bolted to his chest, the only remaining item tying him to the world of the living eroded away, he made the painful transition into a Hollow.
Hunger. That was the very first feeling he recalls of his life as a beast, a true demon of the afterlife. Forced to relive his most detestable, carnal and monstrous desires, the Hollow which eventually came to be called Leon Steelbane hunted with ferocity, without discretion. Taking the form of some type of demonic Lion, clad in bone plating, the creature fed constantly on anything which crossed it's path, but it's hunger was never sated. With each kill, each meal, it felt a pang of regret it did not understand, but marched onward as the cravings overwhelmed his senses, his thoughts. He did not keep track of the years. The Decades. Even as it evolved into an Adjucas class, gaining more and more awareness of it's existence, Leon never slowed his persistent hunt. Forever feeding, forever striving to fill that gaping hole in it's chest, attacking every hollow, every Shinigami, every human it crossed with ferocity, with no regard to size or rank. In battle, it seemed that whatever injury the Hollow would receive, only a matter of moments would pass before the wound would heal itself. The passing of the age of the Arancarrs, the rebellion, and the rebuilding of Las Noches were all lost to the hollow, as it kept to the farthest reaches of the Sands of Hueco Mundo, out of reach and earshot of the events occurring there.
It was not after nearly another five centuries of feeding to no avail that another transformation was made and Leon experienced an epiphany. It was not hunger that remained in his gut after all these years, it was not a desire to sate his cravings that lead him to feed, it was Guilt, Regret, the pain of shame without the memories to explain the sinking sensation. There, in his Vasto Lorde form, the epitome of Hollow evolution, an accomplishment which would have seen as triumphant to any hollow, Leon Steelbane dropped to his knees in the Hueco Mundo sand and wept. The guilt of his countless sins was overwhelming, as a wealth of knowledge and awareness washed over him in his new form, as if his mind had finally been switched on after a slumber lasting over 7 centuries.
The creature crafted for himself, a burrow of sorts. A dark cave carved from rock and sand and glass, using his power to sculpt the landscape to his approval, there in the darkness he brooded over his guilt, truly contemplating if he were cursed with this existence for eternity. That was when his existence was discovered by the Arancarr of Las Noches, merely a few days after his transcendence into Vasto Lorde. He had little consideration for the creatures, and refrained from attacking them. In fact, as they sought him out, it seemed they requested his alleigence, offering him a means to redeem himself and serve an honorable power. Las Noches and her Espada seeemd like the grandest of causes, and with gusto, Leon accepted their offer, venturing with them into the castle where he made the final transition into an Espada.
He bided his time, within their ranks. Learning their ways, their rules, their protocol. He learned of the identities of the Robed warriors he had slain, and their sinful acts against the Hollows. He came to appreciate the mission of Las Noches, to rid the three realms of the Shinigami who had oppressed the hollows so, to see their existence transcend the limits of the endless deserts of Hueco Mundo. He made is personal mission to serve the cause with pride, to redeem himself the sins of his past, as well as to rid himself of his persistent guilt. However his cause had never become more solid than the day he had learned of the fate of the existing Primera Espada, captured by the Shinigami themselves. Though her fate was unconfirmed, Leon knew just what those ruthless robed swordsmen would do to another hollow. Therefore he stepped forth, and claimed her position, vowing to use the fallen Primera's sacrifice as an example in her wake.