Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Ton or half-a-Ton.
Race: Shinigami
Age: 18
Height: 198.12 centimeters
Weight: 130 kilograms
Rank: N/A
Physical Description: Afton is taller than most people, especially for his time period, yet he is still as broad as any of his friends for the time. Making him one of the more powerful people in his time periods. His hands are rough and excessively calloused, more like bear hands than human fists. His hair is a dirty blond, cut as short as it can get without being a buzz cut. He has a mustache that forms into a neat beard right on his chin, giving him a rough look. No matter how often he shaves his cheeks they always seem to have 5 o’clock shadow.
Even in death he wears cloths appropriate to his time period. Woolen breeches, with a long sleeved top of similar material. A large belt holds his breeches up, and he wears heavy leather boots (of righteous a** kicking).
Personality: A crusader is supposed to be blood thirsty and full of righteous furry of god, handing out a**-kickings to anyone who doesn’t kiss a** to the proper almighty being. Afton, however, is more of a defender, possibly the reason he was never promoted, as his friend was, to lieutenant rank. He fights to defend his faith, to protect his family, and make sure they live comfortably.
Afton is nothing if not a Knight. Chivalrous, Honorable, Stalwart, and all the good qualities one would come to expect of a Knight sent on a holy journey for their god.
The one thing that sets him apart from most men of his time period and occupation is that he REFUSES to take a human life anymore. Only monsters and beasts. He believes he has taken more than his fair share of lives, and already detests himself for it, he doesn’t want to add to the body count.
An odd quirk- He intentionally cuts off all hollow’s masks before he reaps them so he can see who they where before they became monsters.
Zanpakutou:
Zanpakutou Spirit: A dire lion. He stands proud and regal in all his golden glory. His mane is consistently dripping blood, as if he just stepped off the field of battle, and scars several inches deep mark his flanks, with blood trickling out of them.
He goes by the name of Richard. He is persistent in his need for battle and the taste of blood on his fangs. There is not a moment when he isn’t prepared for his next opponent, even when sleeping he always seems crouched, prepared to pounce on his next victim.
Inner World: A bloody battle field, littered with the bodies of the fallen, and many Afton had slain in his life. Many have tortured faces, the last look they had before death. But some are faceless, with spears sticking out of their backs. Afton never saw their faces and can‘t remember them. The smell of rotted and bloating bodies beneath the setting sun is almost unbearable
In the background, oh so quietly, behind the wind that graces the battlefield and carries the bloated crows in the sky, screams of the fallen can be heard. Those last whispered requests of the many men he killed on the field of battle.
In the center of the large battle field the bodies slowly stop, and become a field of flowers, of all colors and types. If one looks closely, engraved in the ground are many, many names. Looking even more carefully a few select names have a piece of silver in the ground next to them.
Sealed Form: b*****d sward. Roughly 4 feet 6 inches of blade with another foot of handle. On the hilt there is a large design featuring a lion kicking it’s head up into the sky and bellowing it’s power. This blade is incredibly heavy and takes two hands to weild properly, and most people without the training to use it can hardly lift it.
Shikai Name/Release Phrase: For the Lord Richard.
Shikai Description: Afton’s b*****d sward lengthens and broadens into a large claymore, still bearing the same design on the hilt, the only true change is in length and weight. He also gains a large shield that he weilds with his left arm, a lion of the same design as on his hilt is emblazoned across the front.
Shikai Powers/Attacks: Afton gains the ability to use the Claymore one handed with more agility and strength behind his attacks. Overall his power and speed are increased exponentially with the release of his shikai. He is still mostly a stationary target, as he is rather large, but don't underestimate how fast he can swing that massive blade around. Other than that he gains no significant attacks.
His shield acts as a minor defense for the lower levels of kido and elemental attacks. Most of what anyone can dish out in shikai will overtake the shield, but it's effect is lessened. This has often saved his life even though it is largely useless.
Skills: Well versed in horseback riding, jousting, and grappling. He’s less proficient with a bow, although he has used it in the past to great effect. Surprisingly, he is skilled enough to put on his own armor without aid. (after a bazillion years on his own I should hope he can). He is proud of the fact that he can read, not vary well by today’s standards, but for his time, he was all but a scholar!
Kidou:
Bakudou:
- 1. Restrain (Sai)
4. Crawling Rope (Hainawa)
8. Repulse (Seki)
9. Strike (Geki)
9. Disintegrating Circle (Hourin)
Hadou:
- 1. Thrust (Shou)
4. White Lightning (Byakurai)
He despised the idea of using "Daemon magicks" even if it was for, as the teachers at the academy told him, "The greater good". So he learned just the bare minimum to get him the hell out of their wretched daemon hands, then quickly forgot all that they had taught him on the subject. He will die before he even attempts to recall what those horrid servants of hell taught him.
Biography/History: [TO BE EDITED -or rather added too-]
Afton was raised to be a knight. From birth, that’s all he was ever trained to be, a knight to fight for the king. Afton was taught to ride a horse, close quarters combat, military strategies, reading, writing, arithmetic, jousting and so much more. In the academy, the place where all pages where trained, he had a best friend: Cuthwulf. The two did everything together and were in constant competition, always spiraling in rivalry around one another to the absolute limits of their own skills and power.
17 he went to war. Cuthwulf was summoned to battle along side him. The two spent a little over six months in competition on the field of battle, pushing each other to their limit before Cuthwulf was promoted to lieutenant of another unit. Afton had finally been outstripped, and he no longer had the drive to improve himself without Cuthwulf there to push him. Wulf too lost his drive to improve. However as the good Christian Afton was, he never felt jealous of his friend's advancement, because after this war was over, the two would go home to their families and nothing would change because of the ranking diffrence.
At the age of 19, after two years of crusading up and down the coast of the Mediterranean Sea and fighting under King Richard the Lionheart’s side, he was given a routine message to give to another unit, specifically Cuthwulf’s unit. The message was odd though, in that it was written in another language, Latin. He questioned his commander about it, but the best answer he got was that it was none of his concern. All Afton could do was shrug and hurry to deliver the message. He got there quickly, and spent an extra day with his old rival. Nothing had changed, just as he had predicted.
Barely three days after seeing his friend, a frantic messenger from Cuthwulf’s unit arrived with horrible news. Afton was the first to spot the messenger, and thus the first to receive the message.
Cuthwulf’s unit had been ambushed, he was dead.
by a unit that Afton’s unit had known about for some time now.
Afton went to his commanding officer in a rage, and demanded an explanation. The commander had intentionally lead those men into a trap to tire out the enemy’s troops. Their unit was to thin their ranks and open up the vital road they had held captive, and now their unit was to strike before they could recover. The commander had chosen Cuthwulf’s unit out of pure convenience, they where the nearest.
And Afton had delivered their death sentence.
Within less than two days Afton’s unit met the group that had ambushed Cuthwulf’s. Afton in his grief stricken rage flew into battle, breaking rank long before he should have and endangering his fellow knight's lives. Not that he cared anymore, these barbarians, both knight and godless heathen alike, would pay for the mindless slaughter of his friend. He took down several men before falling pray to a lucky strike to his back. Even as he lay dieing, his rage allowed him to fling his shield against enemies to slow and trip them as they passed him. He bled out all the faster from his painstaking efforts.
AFTER DEATH
Even death didn’t release him from combat. He stepped out of his body moments after his last breath, confused only for a moment, until he saw hundreds of dieing men around him rising from their bodies. Afton believed himself in Purgatory. He must be here for sending the damning message to his friend. A slightly longer look showed him that he was to share his new found prison with the godless barbarians and in that moment, he decided he would rather burn in hell than spend forever with these monsters. Out of sheer will to fight and determination to be rid of these murderous men, in his rage, he formed his blade, becoming a shinigami, unknowingly. He and his deceased companions reigned victorious, both in the living world and the ghost realm the dead seemed to reside in. The unit, both undead and living sang songs of victory that night.
Few other men of his surviving ghost unit had blades, many had simply fought with their hands. And when dawn came, the living unit was to move out. Their undead companions had wanted to go with them, but those without blades seemed incapable of leaving the field of battle. Some form of chain that tied to their souls held them there. Afton could not leave his friends when they where held at such a plight, so he volunteered to remain and help them while the others with blades continued their crusades with their living companions.
A few days after their collective deaths Afton started noticing holes form in his friends, and they slowly turn to monsters. Afton didn’t know what to do other than continue to bring them food and water when they asked, or simply offer them company.
It was a week after death that the first of them hollowfied and started devouring those whom they once fought beside. Afton was forced to slay the newly formed monster, being the only one with a blade, and save his friends. Time and time again they all slowly hollowfied and his friends turned into monsters.
After all his friends had become monsters, and he was the last on the field of battle Afton went looking for his old unit in the surrounding woods, ready to rejoin his companions. This had, after all been such an important supply route, they wouldn’t leave it unguarded and risk another bloody battle as the one he died in. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since his death however, the war had long since been over but he hadn’t known.
So Afton resigned himself to defending the battlefield from anyone who wished to take the road again. So up until modern day even he defended the road, fending off tourists with his haunting aura and turning away any hollows that came to call with the deadly kiss of his blade.
