Artix Von Creg

Name: Artix Von Creg
Age: over 500 years old (Appears to be in his mid twenties)
Gender: Male




Height and weight: Six foot four, 210lbs Give or take a few tens?

Hair and eye color: Shoulder length scraggly black hair and bright emerald green eye's.

Appearance:
A head covered in messy and unkempt shoulder length hair, colored death black. A pair of beautifully clear green eyes bless Artix's face, it's a shame that they are always full of anger, resent and malice. Speaking of his face; it scares people to put it bluntly as it is always held in a scowling position. Very rarely will you ever see Artix smile, only those unfortunate enough to have died by his blade have ever seen his maniacle grin.

His body as one would expect from a person who has dedicated their life to putting their existance on the line for the thrill of battle has been well toned. As a result Artix is a giant of a man, towering high over others. His pale skin is lined with paler scars of past encounters, some of them are simple nicks and scratches while others are large enough to make people look twice.

Unfortunately Artix doesnt own any decent clothes and has frequently had to change his outfit due to the previous fabrics being torn in combat. Usually he wears a patched up leather vest without sleeves and over that would be a ragged pancho type covering with a hood to protect from harsh weathers. His pants are made up of different types of fabric and are sodden and ripped at the end of each leg. His feet are left bare. At his side, held in place by leather straps is a rusty iron sword with no guard. The edge has been chipped away but not dulled and the grip's string and fabric has fallen apart, nevertheless however this sword has served him well.



Although he doesnt have much in regards of valuale possessions Artix does own a few pieces of jewelry. The first is a locket, the chain thin and stringy yet strangely durable. The locket itself is shaped like a book, the detail going so far as to seperate each miniature page jutting from the side and each age worn tear in the cover. Engraved in the front cover of the book is the shape of a heart cracked into two jagged pieces. Quite unusually, the locket is shut tight and no amount of force can neither open nor scratch it. The second is a smooth silver ring Artix wears on his index finger, the initials A.V.C expertly crafted in a swirling text.



Personality:
Artix is more or less a loner, prefering to live alone and die alone if possible because of his untrustworthy lifestyle in rukongai and the human world he has learned never to trust anybody but himself and push away anybody who grows too close to him. Countless times has he been betrayed by friends, lovers and even his own step father. Because of this he has made a mental oath that nobody will ever break through his phsyciological barrier.

He can be hot headed and bad tempered most of the time, he owns a short fuse which is easily sparked by even the smallest of things however below his loud and bellowing anger there is another type of rage. The kind that calls for blood in order to be satisfied. When Arti has been consumed by rage there is no reasoning with him, no matter what kind of punishment he will suffer afterwards he will set out what he intended to do even if that means killing.

Artix is very stubborn and rebbelious, refusing to do what other people tell him to do and sometimes even doing the exact opposite.

Artix's sense of justice has been warped by his experiences, he believes that everybody is corrupt no matter what they say. Because of this he lashes out and has become a confused man full of hopelessness for his own cause, a lost soul with a hardened heart. Is there a person out there capable of saving him?



Strengths:

• Raw strength is something that Artix has quite a lot of and he more often than not uses it to "liberate" the things he needs such as food, water and shelter.
  
• Artix's Apprehensive nature can sometimes protect him from sticky situations and keep him out of trouble too big for him to handle.
  
• Artix has a firm hold over the denizens of the higher numbered districts simply because they are scared of him. From them he can take food, water, shelter and any woman he wants.
  
• Underneath it all he holds a certain compassion and believes that everyone should be treated equally. His tyrranical attitude is just him acting out on these inner thoughts.

Weaknesses:

• The fact that arent doesnt trust anybody makes him a lonely person with nobody to aid him when he needs it. When he gets into a situation he cant escape from, he's on his own.
  
• His habit of drinking a little too much and flirting with random women as a result can often earn him a slap and if the woman he's flirting with happens to be one of political power. Who knows what could happen to him.
  
• He despised it when people criticized what they would call his "reckless" fighting techniques. They just didn't see if he had to suffer a minor injury in order to land a huge blow on the enemy he would do it gladly. He wasn't stupid enough to charge in blindly without knowing what he was doing.
  
• His recent past and the past he has forgotten have messed with his head. To him everyone is guilty and should be punished. Eventually this way of thinking will take it's toll.

History:
Sacrificing a family:
As a small child artix's life looked promising,he was well educated and even though his family was quite poor they seemed to get by just fine. Artix remembers having an older brother however his name, face and what he was like are all lost to artix. the day artix's sister was born was when things took a turn for the worst, his true father died not long after leaving his mother to look after herself and two children. A little while later artix's mother had fallen in love again and things seemed to be going smoothly once more. Until artix's sixteenth birthday.

the family were happily sitting around the dinner table listening to their mothers new husbands tales of adventure and excitement, near the end of his latest tale there was a small knock on the door and everything fell silent. artix's mother was the first to stand followed by her husband and she made her way to the door with her usual gentle smile. artix and his sister quietly and patiently listened. suddenly. A terrible sound echoed around the room, a sound of a blade being drawn and piercing human flesh. Artix panicked. he grabbed his sister from her seat and told her firmly to hide under the loose floorboard under the table. She did as she was told leaving artix out in the open. He remembered a small hole in the wall behind the cupboard nearby. He heard footsteps and didn't have time to think. He pushed aside the cupboard. crawled into the hole and pulled the grate over his face.

What happened then would change his life forever. His mother stumbled and fell in the middle of the room. bleeding from a wound in her arm. Three men entered after her, two wearing black suits, the other his mothers husband watching without a word and without flinching as one of the men raised his sword and plunged it into artix's mothers chest. She fell dead. a long and eerie silence followed, which was broken by the treacherous husband "ok...she's dead...thats what ya wanted aint it now gimme my money" he demanded. While all three men chattered and argued Artix noticed a floor board silently creek open. His sisters small six year old body began to carefully crawl towards him. "No, go back" artix pleaded in whisper but she couldn't hear him. once she had made it past her own mothers dead body another sickening sound of flesh being torn and she too fell dead. Staring at artix with blank eyes and an innocent, sincere expression, a single tear escaped his sisters eye and that was it, her life had ended. Blood pouring from the wound in her back.

Artix sat in his hiding place silently sobbing. He heard his front door open and then slam shut. he waited a few more moments before emerging from his hole. he pulled his sister's body over to his mothers and fell, weeping upon both of them, his tears mixing with their blood. "Artix?....your alive my boy?" came his step fathers voice from behind. And then in a fit of rage all went black. When artix came too he was standing over his step fathers destroyed and beaten body. A sword in his hand and drenched in blood artix dropped to his knees. And took his own life.

Fooled, robbed and betrayed:
Do you know what its like to be alone ? Truly alone with nobody there for you, no friends to turn to, no family to take care of you. Being hunted just because you know how to survive ? I didnt think so, this is whats its like to live in solitude.
Artix upon entering the soul society had lost all memory of his human life. His mother was nothing but a huge smear of different colors. His sister was simply a pair of watery crystal blue eyes followed by a huge blot of crimson. A grave carved out of wood, polished and covered with roses was all Artix remembered of his father and his step father had been completely wiped from his memory.

Artix had really drawn the short straw as he passed through the soul check in counter of the soul society. He had been informed that he was going to be sent into one of the many districts of rukongai, they were numbered one to eighty with eighty being the worst. The worst in what however Artix had no clue. A small slip of paper had been handed to him by a man dressed in black and sporting a rather dangerous looking katana. The paper read “district 78, rukongai” and in an instant he was carted off like some kind of unwanted refugee.

The next thing he knew he had been thrown through a huge pair of wooden gates barred with iron bolts and reinforced with steel to prevent escape. The moment Artix’s teenage body thudded down onto the dusty dirt road the gates had shut and sealed themselves. He was alone.Looking around at the broken buildings and defaced landscape Artix could tell that living here would definetly be tough. His first thought was to find shelter and plan his next action and so finding a small run down warehouse with nothing but a few crates and a flea bitten mattress he settled down and calmed his nerves with sleep.

Days, weeks, maybe even months passed and Artix still hadnt seen a single soul. He didnt dare move from the entrance to the 78th district fearing what he might meet if he ventured in too far. Upon returning home from his daily patrol of the area, attempting to find any signs of life he was shocked to see a girl around the same age as he, sleeping on his mattress. She lay on her stomach with her eyes closed and her head facing towards him resting upon her arms.

Her slick shadowed hair was tied into two ponytails, each one sprouting from either side of her head. She had the body of a perfect slender sixteen year old, limbs sprawled out upon the mangy mattress. She was clothed in a dirty white rag which Artix presumed was once a posh dress gown however the frills had been torn away and worn with use and there were occasional rips or tears in the dress. Her smooth blotless skin was a darkened ebony color, her face smudged with dirt and a few cuts and bruises here and there. Despite this however she seemed quite beautiful as the shape of her head was heart like, rounding slightly as it came to her chin. Her cheeks were elated with a slight plumpness. Small, petite lips held in a tiny “o” formation as she slept a light drizzle of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth.

An hour passed as Artix sat with his back against the cold stone wall simply staring at the ebony skinned girl in front of him. How long had it been since he had seen another person, he no longer felt like he had been abandoned, he no longer felt alone. After months of living on his own and wandering the streets aimlessly, slowly losing himself and becoming a hollow shell this beautiful young girl came out of nowhere and rescued him from the darkness. A flicker of long black eyelashes and a light drowzy groan escaped from the young woman as she began to rise from her peaceful slumber.

She sat herself upright, leaning on her left arm and rubbing the dust from her eye’s with the other, since she was lying on her stomach Artix hadnt really noticed it but her chest was plump and rather impressive for a mere sixteen year old. “HEY!! Pervert, those aint the orbs you should be lookin’ at” the girls voice brought Artix to his senses, she sounded light and majestic apart from the aggresive undertone that she chose to adorn however a good point of her was that she had the same english accent as Artix.

“I-im sorry” Artix stammered as he averted his gaze towards the girls eyes and surprisingly he was drawn in by them. They were golden and seemed to resonate with a ferocious yet inspiring aura something that made him feel like he could continue and conquer his new life in the slums. “Nah, its awright after all it aint everyday a lil spit fuck like you gets to see a wonderfully pretty girl like me” her tone of voice and the way she talked was extremely crude, then again it was expected from somebody who lived life on the streets.

“Wots your name ?”
“E-excuse me ?”
“Well i cant keep callin’ ya spit fuck for the rest of your afterlife can i ?”
“My names Artix.”
“Mines Aldestina”

Even though this strange girl was rather rude and spoke with little care for what other people thought of her, something about her seemed to strike Artix. Despite having only just met she was incredibly friendly and didnt really seem like a bad person, her outgoing attitude acted as a beacon of guidance to the shy and silent Artix. She was somebody he could easily count on. They had spent the rest of the day conversing and Artix explained his situation of being alone in a place entirely unfamiliar with no memories of his past life and only a few trinkets to ponder over. Aldestina only answered with small nods and the odd rise of one of her thin dark eyebrows.

Not long after Aldestina had told Artix about another building not too far from their current location inhabited by a small gang of teenager’s who only want to be able to live easily and not in fear of everything else around them. To Artix this seemed like a good idea, a whole gang of other kids with the exact same idea as him and there was safety in numbers. As soon as they were ready the two ventured deeper into the 78th district, moving as fast as they could to avoid conflict with the other menacing residence that gave them sinister glares as they passed by. “Make no eye contact and dont even ‘fink about stopping” Aldestina instructed Artix with such seriousness he didnt even dare look at her.

One minute Artix was staring down a deserted high road, dead fields on either side complete with a withered tree, the sky growing dark and daunting. The next he found himself in complete darkness as he stumbled to the side. “welcome to my humble abode” came a sly voice, Artix whipped his head around but it was hard to see anything through the darkness. “Now that your here, we shall have to kill y-OW!!” a few scuffling noises and then finally a huge thud followed by Aldestinas voice. “Clown you jackass, hes with me!!” she scolded and slowly the lights flickered and Artix’s eyes were invaded painfully forcing him to squint.

Three faces were all staring in his direction with warm and comforting expressions. Aldestina was standing over a rather lanky looking boy with her fist raised, a huge red mark had been smacked onto the boy’s face. “I told ya not to pull that crap” she warned before returning to her usual straight backed posture. Suddenly voices began to whisper amongst themselves and talk as if Artix wasnt even present.

“Who the hells that guy ?”
“He doesnt look like much”
“Hey Grimm what do you think of him ?”
“I couldnt care less”
“I wonder if he can cook a decent meal”
“What are you saying about my cooking !!”

“SHADDAP!!!” Aldestina bellowed and instantly everybody fell silent, clearly she was the alpha wolf in this pack. “This is Artix, hes a new addition to our group so hit the dance floor and ill introduce ya” she added and right away there were three people standing in front of him, all of which came from different directions as if they were scattered and hiding like rats.
Aldestina had stepped away from her previous spot and stood directly beside the young man she had previously punched in the jaw. “This idiot is Clown” she said, gesturing towards a young boy with long blonde hair that straggled all over his shoulders and lanky features, he bore a huge impish smile across his face. “Getting friendly with Aly already huh?” he chuckled, only to be elbowed in the stomach by Aldestina before she moved on to a large looking guy with huge arms, he looked like he could squish Artix without even trying. “This is Brick” she introduced placing her slender fingers on one of his shoulder’s. “So, um...can ya cook ?” he asked with a hopeful look in his eye and scratching the head that was hidden beneath his huge black afro. Artix gave a small nod and watched as Bricks features lit up with happiness. “This is Missy” Aldestina muttered with a slightly elated tone as she stood beside a small girl who sported a white apron her red hair tied back in a bun and a rolling pin latched between her fingers. “We’ll be having soup for dinner” she smiled happily but her face became morbid as she saw Bricks expression of disgust.

“And finally that guy over there” Aldestina pointed out a guy dressed entirely in black with thick shadowed hair and hunching over as he sat on a small box in the corner. “Thats grimm...its best to just leave him alone for a while.” She advised.

It couldnt have been better Artix was happier than he had ever been since coming to the soul society, he had found a small group of kids just like him who had been tossed into this world without a second glance. A few years passed and finally Artix had gained his own nickname in the team. “silent King” as he didnt talk much and the only responce you’d ever recieve from him would be a small nod of humm of understanding. It was his job in the group to gather resources, which meant he had to steal from local street vendors in order to provide the things they needed to survive. Over the years they had accumulated a large amount of treasures and provisions and things couldnt be any better. But naturally nothing good ever lasts.

Artix’s latest score had been a small golden statue of a dragon and a bag of apples. He rushed home to introduce his new treasure to the other guys, he flung himself through the warehouse doors. All he was greeted by was the soft whistling of the wind blowing through a desolate and deserted floor space. He atempted calling out, but no reply came. He searched the warehouse and the surrounding area but none of them were in sight, not even Grimm who very rarely left the warehouse. Upon searching the storage crates he found that they had been stripped bare, all of the silver and golden valuables he had collected over the years had been stolen by none other than his own friends. How could he be so stupid. The districts of rukongai were numbered with the highest being the worst for a reason. They were filled with hoodlums, murderers and most of all traitors. He released the bag and the dragon from his grasp, letting them drop to the floor with a clatter and fell to his knees. Artix had lost everything and had gained only one thing: he had learned that “Nobody could be trusted.”

The demon king of rukongai:
Many years passed since Artix had been robbed of everything he had and abandoned in a world he knew nothing of. He began to grow distant to everyone he met, pushing them away, afraid that he may be cast aside as he had been so many times before. Of course one man walking the streets of rukongai seemed to be an easy target and thus Artix had been confronted by a gang of thugs. They pushed him around and toyed with him before finally growing bored with him, the largest of them personally voluntered to murder Artix without back up. Big mistake on his part. To Artix’s surprise the thug was a lot weaker than he was, his punches hardly hurt as they connected with Artix’s face and vice versa Artix seemed to be doing a lot more damage than he intended by simply knocking his opponent with his elbow.

Before long the muscle brained idiot was down and to Artix’s surprise he felt....better. Beating up that good for nothing street rat had vented a little of the frustration that had built up over the years and it was fun to risk his life for the thrill of the fight. With all of the adreneline pumping through his system he instantly leapt at the rest of the thugs and lapped them all up in no time. Blood ran along the cracks of the pavement and stained the dirt below his feet. Without meaning to he had killed nearly half of them....and felt no remorce. He kew that what he had just done was wrong yet there was no shock, there was no regret just sheer satisfaction in knowing that he was more powerful than those guys. Another thing that startled Artix...he was hungry. For the first time in decades his stomach had growled. He checked himself over, inspecting his wounds and determining how serious they were before setting off in search of food.

Of course it wasnt long before word got out that a young man about the age of eighteen had beaten up an entire troop of gang members with his bare fists. Other peoples set themselves up in front of him, only to be knocked down and some were even killed. Slowly artix began to grow colder, the experience of battle had hardened his heart and he could now kill people without doing by accident. His fighting methods began to change dramatically, he no longer simply beat them to a pulp. He broke limbs, he sliced off body parts, he impaled people on swords and eventually people began calling his fighting style demonic.

As he walked the streets nobody eever looked at him. Nobody approached him nobody dared breathe a word about him while he was in the area and slowly he began to accept that and his mind learned to block off people opinions and in turn he began to care alot less for other peoples emotions, doing what he wanted whenever he felt like it. When he grew hungry, he simply invaded somebody’s home and stole food. If he grew tired he kicked people out of buildings and he slept under shelter. Should he get bored, he roamed the streets searching for a fight.

Pretty soon there wasn’t a single soul in rukongai who handnt heard of Artix, wherever he went people recognised him instantly by the description of tall, dark, heavily scarred and the aura of a demon. Everytime he wandered into a new area the only thing that ushered from the quivering lips of the residents was “The demon king”


Written sample:

Quote :

A small pool of blood, still ruby colored liquid shimmering on the surface of the red stained sand. A few drops had been scattered spasmodically around the crimson puddle and a trail of bloody spots led to something else a foot or so away. A body. It was obviously that of a hollow as no arrancar or human could have such beast like features. The corpse was surrounded by another larger pool of blood. It was a sight that would send the minds of the weak mad. Its chest had been ripped open from the hole in its torso, its ribs pointing outwards like a sinister spiders legs. The spine seemed to be arching backwards significantly more than any regular being could allow. The hollows insides had been torn from its body and scattered around like the toys of an insane child. The beast had obviously been made to suffer excrutiating pain before being finished off, its arms and legs were broken and beaten in countless different places and twisted at incredibly awkward angles like the lifeless limp body of a marionette. Many cuts and wounds were situated on what little skin the monster had left, some only slight nicks the others life threateningly deep gashes.

Strangely enough the hollows mask was still intact, despite the few cracks that ran long its cheeks, forehead and chin. It may have been beaten in this area but whatever did this had wanted it to stay conscious and feel every last ounce of pain squeezed from it. Anybody from within about half a miles distance could have heard the terrible beasts howls and shrieks before it was silenced forever. The blood here began a new trail that lead slightly to the left of the previous one and not too far away, probably about five meters or so was a lime haired arrancar with bloody hands.

"It will have blood" Leon quoted shakespeare, giving the classic gothic tale an edge of true darkness. "They say blood will have blood...I am in blood stepped in so far that should I wade no more... returning is as tedious as go'er." His voice was calm and collected despite the festering carcass in front of him, despite the large amount of blood on his hands. Normally this kind of situation would have overjoyed him, but tonight he frowned at his creation.

"Why cant I make you beautiful?" He asked the body. In his eyes the hollows mangled corpse was his artwork, something that can be appreciated and displayed for all to see. Yet when he looked upon it he didnt see the usual appeal that his work had had all those years ago. Of course it looked like his other pieces and felt like all of the other magnificent works he had erected before. Yet something was missing. Had his confinement caused him to lose his touch? He pondered this as he stared at his red fingers.

Absently he brushed his own face with his forefinger, marking a smudged red line from the corner of his lip to the middle of his chin. Was he just lacking in inspiration? Was there something that he didnt have that he needed in order to create the masterpieces he so loved? He just sat, his head hung, maybe if he sat here long enough the answer would come to him...

Completified!! >=D