Zarachiel Iqus

[Zarachiel]

†Zarachiel Yamato Fenrir Iqus CODENAME - Gunslinger†


‡The Basics‡
~the beginning of creation starts here.~

_♦_ First Name: Zarachiel
_♦_ Middle Name: Yamato Fenrir
_♦_ Surname: Iqus
_♦_ Gender: Male
_♦_ Age: 22 {{241}}
_♦_ Species: Soul Reaper
_♦_ Occupation: Soul Society - Captain of Sixth Division
_♦_ Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

‡Appearance‡]

_♦_ Hair: Zarachiel's hair is a blonde shade. He keeps it spiked down for the most part. It is free of knots and tangles for the most part. He prefers not to place anything in it such as clips, nor does he like wearing hats. 
_♦_ Eyes: Being a purple colour, Zarachiel has a sharp stare. The scleras are a milky white shade and his eyes are shaped like a parallelogram. His eyesight is perfect to the point where he has no blind spots. His eyes hold many emotions.
_♦_ Skin: Zarachiel's skin is smooth and flawless. He has a pale tone to it, but he still has flawless skin. There are no scars or markings. 
_♦_ Height: 6'1"
_♦_ Weight: 141 lbs
_♦_ Usual Style of Clothing: Zarachiel wears Mostly white. His torso is made up of simple things. He wears a white shirt that buttons up. About the collar is a white cravat with a crimson pin in the center. Over the cotton shirt is a white vest made of Yorkshire wool. On the back is the squad insignia. Over that is a white blazer made of Yorkshire wool. For pants, he wears white pants made of polyester. Footwear wise is white boots made of leather. 
_♦_ Other: Piercings in his left ear.

[center]‡Personality‡
[b]

_♦_ Personality: Zarachiel is a cheerful man that is rather voluptuous. He will flirt with almost any female he can find, even if they may be an enemy. He is rather hyper and happens to be very sensitive. Zarachiel is most known for being rather theatrical. He likes to put on a show just to get attention. He likes to be the center of attention, especially around women. 
_♦_ Likes:

• Studying how things work
  
• Tea
  
• Listening to classical music

_♦_ Dislikes:

• Loud noises
  
• Coffee
  
• Rap music

_♦_ Bad Habits: Not giving his opinion. Chewing his thumbnails. Overworking himself.

[center]‡History‡


_♦_ Date of Birth: October 31
_♦_ Time Origin: World War II
_♦_ Origin World: Earth
_♦_ Parentage: Judas and Renee Lafrenze
_♦_ Siblings: Abel and Esther Lafrenze
_♦_ History: My name? Aleczandre. My game? Betrayal. I... Am to die tonight.
-Prelude-
Aleczandre Vivian Lafrenze was born in England. His family was of high class. The family of Lafrenze was made of music composers. Alec was skilled and learned to play piano by hearing it at age four. The eldest child, Abel, was sent into war and Esther, the second child, died due to scarlet fever. Alec was of age fifteen and was the only one left to care for his mother and father. 

-Capture the Traitor-
Alec was sent into war at age seventeen, just like Abel. However, may Abel's soul rest in peace. Alec was skilled in firing and sword fighting. Nuclear warfare, fortunately, was not used in the war. He was fighting a battalion before he was overpowered and brought in as a prisoner of war. However, Nazi Germany had use of his skills. 

-Get What You Deserve-
Alec was ordered, in exchange for his life, to work as a Nazi solider. He made sure that those going into the gas chambers were rounded up and did not cause a commotion. There was one night he had to work alone. After rounding each person signed for death, he sent them forward. The victims took the chance of carelessness he made, they pushed him in and locked the door. Luckily his armband got caught in the door. The gas came on, and he began to cough up blood. Nerve gas. He worked the armband and got the door unlocked. He fell to his knees outside, and looked to see carnage scattered about. Alec looked up to see his superior, Adolf Hitler. A sickening smile came to Hitler's face. "Ve had a problem here, ja? Das ist nicht gut. Luckily I vas here." A gunshot rang out, and Aleczandre Vivian Lafrenze was no more as he collapsed. 

-Welcome to the End-
Zarachiel Iqus was born to a family in the Sereitei. He was rather pure, and some people even mistook him for being an angel. How incorrect. He was an angel hybrid. As any noble child was to, he went to the academy. After six fair years, graduation came. He had no friends to worry about, so he made his way through. Graduation was a battle to the death. Zarachiel, their prodigy, was against another academy's prodigy. The fight commenced. The opponent had the first strike, and hit right on. It stabbed through to Zarachiel's heart. He spit up blood, but raised his sword to sever the opponent's right arm from his shoulder. Zarachiel was an angel. Of massacre, that was. A slight grin fell against his crimson stained thin lips. The opponent screamed. It was a battle to the death... Zarachiel noticed his opponent was too distracted by the pain to attack, so he moved, showing his new power. "Fire, Fenrir Akumu." Twin pistols gave a rapid fire, blowing his opponent to pieces. Everyone watching was in shock. How did a simple student achieve shikai?! Extensive training. He was placed in Sixth's division. He spent many years with Byakuya learning bankai. However, he achieved it. The next day, Byakuya... Disappeared somewhere. 


_♦_ Rp Sample: (Taken from another site.)
The rattling of metal clashing against another piece of metal sounded against a broad chest. His face was shadowed by the collar of his jacket he had turned up. Crimson eyes gleamed from beyond the shadowed visage, seeming to dart about as it looking around. He seemed to adjust his gloves a bit. The stranger remained silent, but it wasn;t as if he were waiting for someone or something.

"Feh. This sandstorm could let up." His voice was deep, and obviously somewhat angered. He brought his collar down, and shaked some sand from his black hair. One hand covered the rosaries around his neck, as they were precious to him. He knew if he was not careful, he could lose them. What was so special was not known, as he had never told anyone. The only thing others know is the fact they are a 'key' to unlock his bankai.

Arturo continued his trek forward, the black trenchcoat he wore flapping about in the wind. Over it was a white haori, the one of the fifth division. He slipped it off, and tossed it into the air. It was of no use anymore. What did it prove? The failure that the gotei thirteen was. It sickened him. "Pathetic worms." Arturo cursed the other faithful shinigami.
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