Welcome to Gaia! ::

Link to Profile: Duro Sleale

How long have you been in the guild? Well, I've been in it since around September 21st.

How active are you in the guild? I haven't been active at all--I've been waiting for my profile to be accepted, but I promise activity once everything's in order!

Why do you want to hold the rank of Espada? Honestly, because I love playing characters that have powerful positions but are flawed enough that they're still believable characters--and it gives me great practice on how to write someone who isn't a Mary Sue/Gary Stu while still retaining a position of power.

Why do you think you will do well as a Espada? I'm an avid RPer and I guess that's, um.. really all I have to offer. I am capable of coming up with prompts, though, if you're in need of more of those for your applications.

Your Sample:


Repulsive. It was.. repulsive. `Twas also terrible, gruesome, and hideous, sure--but most of all, it was repulsive. He hadn’t meant to get so dirty. Hell, he hadn’t meant to even draw blood. And yet here he was, standing alone in the wrecked, cratered remains of a rice paddy next to the muddy, broken body of.. what was it, again? To hell if he could remember. The coat was white, but so caked with blood and dirt that he couldn’t quite discern who he’d murdered.

“Sorry.” His voice drawled out in an absentminded mumble as he wiped his hands on a clean patch of the corpse’s coat. He crouched down as he did so, pristine white boots pressing into the mud and darkening from the filth. His inner neat-freak was repulsed, and some distant voice rattled on and on about cleanliness--he ignored it for now in favor of investigation. With a dull expression, he pressed one knee into the muck and leaned in closer, pressing a hand to the man’s shoulder and beginning to roll him over. “I am sorry, my brother,” he began, hoping to make amends with whatever soul reaper he’d slain, “I would never bear a desire to--” The body turned over and Duro froze, hazel eyes widening. It was a young man, barely out of his teens, with a missing eye that dripped bits of gore and blood. He looked troubled, even in death. But that wasn’t what got to Duro. No, what really bothered him was the fragment--the tell-tale sliver of bone that went in a C-shape around each eye gave away just what this poor creature was.

He’d killed a fellow Arrancar. It was like he’d killed his family. “M-my god..” He bowed his head, curling his arms around the corpse and heaving it up to sit upright. The poor man couldn’t have been dead for long--he hadn’t faded yet. But now the blackness came, and he disintegrated, fading and dissipating into flickers of black energy that disappeared like dandelion fluff in a breeze. “I am so terribly, terribly sorry.” His eyes drooped. He let his arms fall slack, staring vacantly at the empty space where the man once was. Distantly, he tried to recall his name--or at least, why in the hell he’d killed him. But nothing came. Just voices, chattering and pushing, flickers of memories trying to force their way up as the right ones. “Je n'ai pas besoin de votre bavardage,” he growled to himself, the language spilling from his tongue before he could think. He shook his head swiftly, rising to his feet. With a sigh, he promptly sonido’d out of the crater and onto a nearby wooden walkway. One muddy hand raised to wipe a single tear from the corner of his eye.

“I will surely have to report his death,” the man mumbled to himself. Although it was a completely unnecessary task, as no one truly cared, he always told of when one of their own passed away. Usually, he’d tell a fellow Espada rather than their leader--his lack of a fondness for that Caelum fellow was rather well-known. Honestly, he avoided talking to him unless he absolutely had to. “And repent.” His hand traced along the length of his blade’s sheathe. He made a note to implore Zuffa in assisting him with his ‘repentance’ whilst he summoned a garganta. It split open the sky, and he stole a glance back at the crater as he saw strangers in black garb begin to manifest at the fringes. Bearing absolutely no desire for conflict, he quickly slipped through the garganta and disappeared without a word, to return home and mourn the loss of another of his hollow brethren.