TryOut: The Infection; The Infection [APPROVED]

[Ravilin]

Try-out Role-Player: The Infection
Try-out Character's Name: The Infection
Try-out Character's Race: Demon

[The Infection]

The sun faded in to blackness, the sky drained of color and turning to the dark. The shadows of the damned loomed over this desolate place, leaving behind only their dreaded remains. The scent of blood filled the air like wine, almost to an intoxicating extent. The burning rubble of a city already lost cast sparks of burning red light in to the night, setting it a blaze. Bodies were lined across every street, every building, and some even drilled deep into the ground. These corpses were not just dead, but horribly mutilated. They were ripped in half, taken apart limb-from-limb, their entrails painting the walls of the burning abodes that remained in a cloud of smoke. The sound of screams and embers mixed perfectly in a symphony of chaos. Those left alive fought desperately for their lives, trapped under burning structures or suffering fatal wounds. The city’s hospital was sliced in half entirely, only the first floor of the facility still in tact. The other floors had been sliced clean off, falling to the earth directly beside the decimated remains of a local hotel. The crash of the two buildings caused them both to shatter, sending what lay inside to fall to the ground. Medical supplies and broken glass covered the scorched earth, the corpse of several residents scattered among the wreckage. Vehicles throughout the city were flipped over, sliced in to several separate pieces, and even having bite-shaped holes across their form. In disarray they ran in fear, their only defenses having proven frivolous against the cause of this catastrophe.

In the midst of this destruction, a rather tall man stood silently at six feet and four inches. His skin was pale, almost ghost-white. His eyes were as black as the night, showing no sign of will or soul. Their body was drained and torn, bones visible across the skin due to what appeared to be a lack of sustenance. The man’s bottom-lip was bleeding, the small traces of blood moving down the chin and dripping on to his tattered leather shoes. The man’s hair was devoid of color, simply appearing white, his eye-brows burned off and a single tear coming from the right-eye. The man’s eyes were dry, as if all liquid had been drained from them. His body was shaking, not by the screams of the friends he once knew, but by a doubt plaguing the confines of his mind. The man no longer could tell reality from illusion, becoming a schizophrenic introvert. His legs were bruised and marked with signs of decay. The pale-white skin that made up the majority of the man’s form turned pitch-black around the legs. The skin was rough and starting to peel off of the man’s body, showing a tainted energy that secreted from the appendage. This energy was nothing humanity had known prior to its awakening. It was a twisted force unlike even the explosive power of nuclear energy. An energy forged by the angle of black wings. The Infection was awake.

By the will of a hidden entity, the sickly-looking male slowly began to walk, nearly being classified as a limp. He took one step, then another. Pain coursed through his body with each movement. The man’s body was broken and in horrible internal condition as well. After the fifth step, the person ceased their movement, putting their hand in front of their mouth and starting to cough heavily. Blood poured from his throat with each burst of air, spreading over the pale-skin of his hand. Though, this blood was not red. It was black, as black as the shadows that followed the symphony of torment. The man continued onward, despite the anguish filling his mind and body. The thing he was walking toward? A few feet away from the remains of one of the facilities that were destroyed as a result of the events preceding the present, a female individual, seemingly short at five feet and two inches tall was badly injured and trapped in the remains of the rubble. Flames danced around her, ready to burn her alive. Her legs had been crushed under a rather large pillar of stone that shattered on contact. Shards of stone were imbedded in her legs and waist. She could barely breathe at this point, the inhaling of a copious amount of carbon dioxide linked with the smoke causing her to become ill.

The man arrived at the scene moments later, his body still aching with traits of anxiety and pain in the bones. He weakly took a step inside, moving over traces of stone that remained and getting closer to the woman. The fire became apparent in an instant, a wave of heat coating his body and causing further discomfort. However, this didn’t seem to hinder the pale-skinned individual. It was as if his mind and body were separate, unable to cooperate and not linking information perceived by the brain to the reaction of the physical form. The woman was unconscious at this point, having inhaled too many of the toxins contained in the clouds of smoke. The half-dead male grabbed the female by the right—arm, lifting her up from the ground and weakly slinging her over on to his shoulder. To most people, this seemed like an act of kindness from one person to another. Well, it wasn’t. It would have been better if she stayed there and burned. He left the remains of the abode, his shoes covered in small traces of fire and burning his flesh. The pale-skinned turned black in a matter of seconds, the same energy seeping out from the wounds. The fire seemed to vanish as this energy made contact. The plasma was overpowered by the tainted evil that filled the man’s body. In a few seconds, the woman regained her senses; the woman’s sight was hindered by the state she was in, her vision barely making out the form of the one carrying her. Though, once this vision filled her eyes and the conception of being alive cast a feeling of a relief over her mind. The true nature of the pale-skinned man was revealed. There was a reason for such tainted energies to secrete from his body, as the maw of the end struck its mark.

From the man’s back, a composition of pure demonic power had come forth, digging in to the female’s chest and tearing away at the flesh and bone. This was done slowly in order to maintain the pain of having her body ripped apart by an unseen force. Her muscle was clenched in the teeth of the demon, being torn away and chewed to bits in the jaws of the beast. Next were the bones, being crushed under the strength of the vector and pulled out of link with the other bones in the body. The demon was so effortlessly tearing apart the human’s body, her screams of pain merging with the roar of the fire that engulfed the city’s remains. Her body twitched rapidly, convulsions causing further pain in her despair. Finally, she let out one last ear-piercing scream, pushing away from the man with her hands to try and escape their grasp as the vector struck through the chest, its mouth opening wide and biting the woman’s heart. The blood that incased her insides covered the scale-like osmium skin of the demon as it sprung outward from the human’s body, swallowing the heart as it surfaced. The sliced bits of her heart slid down his throat, the taste of her insides giving the parasite a feeling of enjoyment. This destruction and chaos was a blissful paradise, a place very seldom on this petty world. It let out an entropic screech, the distorted and inhumane nature of the sound causing any who heard it to cringe. With the woman dead, the vector receded, allowing her corpse to slide off of its snake-like form while the man the demon spawned from released her. The body hit the floor, the bleeding wound in the center of her body oozing with a form of acidic liquid.

The vector of The Infection protruded from the man’s shoulder, a serpentine appeal in its demented smile. Traces of muscle and residue from the heart still covered its teeth, the tainted aura of an entity unlike any humanity had seen before shrouded it, seemingly absorbing the light generated by the burning embers and making it darker around the host. The Infection’s hunger was being quenched with this chaos, feeding upon the organs of these Humans. Though the most weak of any race, The Infection liked them far more than any of the others. Not only did they offer a much more ample supply of subjects, but they were more easily manipulated by their emotions, making them perfect targets to bless with the untold powers of Infection. The plasma coming from the host’s wounds no longer poured out from his body. Instead, there was now an entire cloak of the power around his skin. The cloak was a darker-gray color, flowing around the body and causing him to appear far stronger than he actually was. At this point, The Infection had nearly full control of this specific host. Their will had been broken and their body was relinquished to the dark. Unfortunately, this chaos has been going on for some time now, which means those pesky Shinigami were going to show up soon. Such meddlesome trash…They always got in other people’s business like they owned the place. The Infection pondered this with annoyance, wishing that the entire race was wiped out. Then again, it could use a bit more to eat, and it was getting bored of the taste of simple Humans.

[Ravilin]

Konego had arrived at the scene way too late. Even in the grotesqueness of this Hell, his presence shined like a beacon of truth, of light. The Segunda Espada was leaned to his right against a burning edifice, his arm curled and palm acting as a surface for his resting head. His fingers were entrenched within his blue, short, smooth hair. His brows were aloof and his eyes half shut, providing the Arrancar with a disposition not fitting for a being of such goodness, of such light. His left foot lay atop his right one, the blood within the latter thinning and beginning to numb. He wore baggy, white trousers and a white, open-faced white jacket. But all that didn't matter, for he had felt a presence near. Something was present that should not be. He could see it from where he stood.

An interesting creature, to say the least. Konego had seen in this being a darkness unrivaled. And to say the least, he had been overcome with fear when he first had felt its presence. Human's were independent creatures...but even better puppets. As the creature exited an adjacent, burning edifice, Konego's eyes peered directly at the monster's visage. Its true face. Crude and unwelcoming, pure madness it embodied. The Segunda Espada smiles, but not any ordinary smile. The sides of his gape rise to abnormal levels, almost beyond anatomical plausibility. His eyes close and re-open slowly yet halt just half way open. His dark, almost black pupils glare at the resurfaced monster. He saw the creature's true form. In the form of pure, evil Reiryoku. He could see, he could smell...he could sense the beast's true desires. Konego blinks once more.

Unmoving, Konego finally exclaims. "Creature, your presence is quite detestable." He pauses for a brief moment, his expression remaining blank. "What did these poor humans ever do to you?"

[The Infection]

The Infection’s cold, blood red eyes glared at the endless spires of smoke that encased the flames of chaos. Such a great sight to see in this day and age. Things were much more chaotic in the older times. The time of war, pitting brother against brother, kin against kin, and bloodbaths of unmatched proportions. The nostalgic feel of such turmoil was a fond memory. Today, such was rare and uncommon, petty civility and order impeding the march of Human nature. The nature of all mortals to seek dominance, bound by pride to throw away the lives of millions for selfish ambitions. Caught up in this spectacle of destruction, the voice of one unwelcomed caught The Infection off guard for a moment, not expecting anyone to dare step toward the beast that placed this city in ruin. The host turned around weakly, his body still in a state of torment from the disease that lingered in his blood. The Infection could sense the spiritual energy of the individual speaking to them, a smile of inhuman characteristics painted across the man’s face. This was not a Human, but neither was it the Shinigami he expected. No, this was an Arrancar, the most destructive and blood-thirsty species after the Demons themselves.

The Infection knew that this wasn’t going to be as simple as dealing with such minor insects as the Shinigami and Humans. It was for this reason that it decided to take over and deal with this personally. The decrepit host fell to his knees in an instant, holding his hands over his face, as if trying to keep something maintained. His nails dug into his skin, causing minor cuts to form from the amount of pressure being placed on such a frail body. However, it was no use. The host had already lost too much will to resist. It was The Infection’s body now. The cloak of tainted energy around the host was slowly absorbed in to his body through the ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. The energy caused his power to rise substantially. The spiritual power coming from his body exploded to monstrous levels. The demonic energy expanded to new heights, coursing through the body’s veins and mind. The dry white eyes of a dead soul were replaced with eyes of crimson hues. Eyes that stared upon thee with a killing intent, ready to slice any who dared to oppose the demon. All wounds on the body were doused in red embers, healing the flesh and giving the body more combat-tuned characteristics. The muscles expanded substantially from the weaker form of its predecessor, the tattered clothing that covered the man’s body changing, being infused with the power of evil. It became metallic, compressing from the soft, leather form it had prior to a refined teal steel. This metal covered every part of the man’s body, going all the way from the base of the foot to the bottom-half of his face. The metallic material ceased just under the nose and over the mouth. The armor was skin-tight, wrapping around the body perfectly and showing the physical stature of the improved host. Red markings opened up upon the leggings and grieve, looking similar to gashes, but instead of blood, that tainted aura of hell secreted ominously around the monster. From the host’s back and shoulders, the true form of The Infection showed itself. Pushing itself off of the ground, The Infection took back a standing position, the host's hands no longer clawing at his body and being position to the man's sides.

Coming from the left-shoulder and back were three vectors, each the exact same as the original one already active. Behind these vectors came many tendrils, four following each vector as if soldiers working under their commander. These black osmium coils of demonic construction obscured the vision from seeing a portion of the host’s body, those hungry red eyes glaring directly at the arrancar. As the evolved Hollow spoke, the Infection couldn’t help but be dragged away from its blissful mood of chaos to a state of agitation. Calling such a powerful Demon by the word “Creature”, and “detestable”? It was sickening. It seemed that The Infection needed to educate this man as to what exactly he really was. Judging from that power that they possessed, they might even make a nice replacement host once this body fully withers away and dies like all hosts inevitably do. The vectors were positioned in a certain way. Two of them were on level with the rib-cage, one on each side, waiting to attack or intercept things. The other vectors were positioned above the shoulders in a more offensive stance, their jaws open and acidic green saliva showing between the teeth. In the vector above the right-shoulder’s mouth, the remains of the heart and muscle from that corpse that had been devoured were still apparent in plain view.

The Infection began to speak, using the vector above the left-shoulder to communicate. A voice of sickly grotesque tone spit out words loudly, loud enough to be heard over the distant screams of those still trying to escape the city and the beautiful sound of the burning embers. This tone spiked every now and again, going from the prideful calm that made up The Infection’s mentality to yells of immense rage, dictating its lack of tolerance. “Creature? Are you really that stupid? To refer to me by such names will have you dead within the hour. I suppose you are better than a Shinigami showing up though. Those petty ants are so annoying, always speaking about their self-righteous ideals, acting like they are right and everyone else is wrong. They think they own everything. They are about as useless as a cock-flavored lollipop. ..But why the hell….Out of every twisted, pathetic, dumbass Hollow and Arrancar, the one that shows up is a dick-less sack of shit with an empathy disorder toward the bags of trash that are Humans…What did they do to me, you ask? Nothing. Not one god damned thing. You know why? Because they fear me. I am a god compared to them. They have no rights in my presence other than to be used as toys for me to destroy. They exist solely for my entertainment. If they die? So what! There is a billion of the assholes because they fuck like rabbits in spring. Plenty to kill and decimate under my power. That is why, arrancar. They have no purpose other than to die for my entertainment. Besides, they kill each other anyway. They always have. War, murder, rape! All of it is in their nature. It is in these sins that we find joy, left unbound by petty morality. That is why I find people like you pathetic. You act like what I’m doing is wrong. Really, I’m just doing what I was made for. I was made to ravage and destroy everything that I deem unneeded. It is the same as what these Humans have done for millennia now. It is the same thing you did as a Hollow. The same thing, all of it. You are just a hypocritical, weak, son-of-bitch who doesn’t know their place! Oh, I know what you’re thinking. Why does this ugly-ass monster come around telling me how the world works? I’ll tell you why. I am god. I dictate what this world is. Every other species is between a cockroach, to that white stuff that accumulates at the bottom of the lip when you’re really fucking thirsty. Normally, I consider arrancars and hollows as the cockroach, much superior to these Human insects, or even lower, those frivolous and cocky shinigami. But you? You bring your entire race shame. You are a failure. You are just after-birth. A disgusting goo-like paste that everyone throws away like the garbage it is. Now, allow me to demonstrate the reason that you are not to address me by anything other than God! “

The Infection sent four tendrils forward, the tentacle-like appendages darting toward the arrancar at incredible speeds. They seemed to extend more and more as they got farther away from The Infection. While this was occurring, The Infection opened the host’s right-hand, conjuring the Crescent Of The Sun in his right-hand. Black energy molded the form of the weapon at first, sculpting it from raw power. In moments, the weapon came to life, gaining colors and texture. The steel shined with the reflection of the flame’s light. The Crescent of The Sun was an odd blade, starting with a small one-inch cylinder at the base connecting to a three-inch long crescent that was painted of pure ebony. Above this was the guard, a scorching-red wood that possessed a sense of heat to it. This had four links, each one representing an oddly-shaped cylinder that closed nearly in to a diamond, only to link to the next, repeating this pattern for four cylinders. In the end, the length of the guard was four inches, the width being only an inch. After this was another crescent, the points aimed toward the points of the crescent prior. This was identical to the last, being three inches in length and a shade of ebony. Extending from this crescent was the blade itself. The blade was made of pure silver, reflecting the light of the flames off of its edge. Though appearing to just be a fancy sword, the weapon was much more than that, having powers of its own that were only accessible to entities of a Human nature, such as Humans, Quincy, and Fullbringers. The tendrils attempted to wrap around the arrancar’s arms and legs, specifically targeting the wrists and ankles. If successful, The Infection would quickly yell out once more in that same grotesque, demonic voice. “Get over here!” The tendrils then attempted to rapidly retract and pull the target toward The Infection. With the Crescent of the Sun in hand, the monster used the host’s body to swing the right arm and send a powerful diagonal slash at the arrancar once they got close. The slash was aimed at the right-shoulder and would have ended at the end of the left-hip. However, if it did hit, no visible damage would be shown. The blade appeared to have just phased through the target. Really though, it was directly attacking their soul, dealing substantially more damage than a normal attack,

[Ravilin]

Try-out Profile Evaluation Section - Sub-Total: 16/18

• General -Total: 4/6
  
• Thoroughness - 2/2
  
• Organization - 1/2
  
• Cleanliness - 1/2
  
  
• Character - Total: 6/6
  
• Originality and creativity - 3/3
  
• Character depth - 3/3
  
  
• Sin - Total: 6/6
  
• Originality and creativity - 3/3
  
• Sin depth - 3/3

Try-out Post Evaluation Section - Sub-Total: 29/32

• Creativity - Total: 8/9
  
• Setting - 2/3
  
• Action scene - 3/3
  
• Character reaction - 3/3
  
  
• Grammar and Sentence Structure - Total: 8/8
  
• Punctuation - 2/2
  
• Sentence structure - 2/2
  
• Readability - 4/4
  
  
• Storytelling Ability - Total: 2/2
  
  
• Flow and Overall Structure - Total: 4/4
  
• Post flow - 2/2
  
• Post organization - 2/2
  
  
• General Detail - Total: 7/9
  
• Setting detail - 2/3
  
• Character action detail - 3/3
  
• Character interaction detail and integrity - 2/3

Total: 45/50

Ranked: Supreme
[45 - 50 stat points]

Please proceed to edit your profile appropriately based on rank and await for final screening and approval.

[Ravilin Asura]

New try out total is 10,000P.

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