Armond La'Crow Silverblood

Imagine a boy of incredible mental prowess. One who plays chess all day, reads all night, and sleeps with his writing. One who can use the gift of words to get what he wants. One who can see into your inner mind. Imagine a boy who can see your deepest fear. One who can twist your words against you, or the words of others against their allies. This person can be your greatest weapon. This person can be the harbinger of death. With eyes the color of your blood in a sunny afternoon, and hair the color of silver in the moonlight. The smile of this boy can bring some to madness. His method of interrogation is silence. Silence can be a powerful weapon after all. It bores into your mind. It picks at your secret and hidden paranoia. This boy knows this. This male uses this. This man is a master of this. Silence is his friend. Silence is his master. Silence is his slave.

Armond La’Crow Silverblood is the name of this man. A pure Silverblood, like his sister Enrya Solstice Silverblood. Armond was considered an outcast in his family. Silverbloods are not without emotion though. They value family. But Armond and his sister were always treated differently. Why? Because there eye color was not blue like the others. Blue is the dominate and only color for eyes in the Silverblood family. Armond believes the only reason that he and his sister were tolerated was because their hair is silver. The majority of Silverbloods have silver hair. Only a handful have ever been born with black hair. Most of them were not pure Silverblood. Nonetheless, Armond watched as they were treated fairly. Even the mixed bloods received warming greetings than he, a pure blood. This angered him.

He grew up in the noble life. He learned to hide his emotions. He didn’t want to lose his control. And he didn’t want people to know that he was annoyed or sad or whatever he felt. He went about studying things like chess, literature, art, and psychology. All of which he uses in his daily life. Armond didn’t enjoy this life though. He would rather have been born in the Rukongai. But life saw different. He was forced to obey things he didn’t want to. He hated following orders. He hated blind loyalty. He needed to know. But who was he? A creepy red-eyed kid who “wouldn’t understand.” That irritated Armond. He wanted out. He wanted to make himself better. And so he did.

He started by doing the forbidden thing, learning to cook. It wasn’t really forbidden. But nobody in the Silverblood family could cook. The fact that he could was something unheard of. He wasn’t great or super amazing, but he could do it. That was strike one. Strike two came when he matured. It was clear he was not going to be of the masculine variety. All Silverblood males were masculine. Masculine voices, looks, nature, but he didn’t show any of that. His voice wasn’t high pitched at all. It was low, but it had a flirtatious and sultry tone to it that men don’t have. His body was athletic at best, but overall was very feminine. Even his ass was rounder than most males. His nature was also not as violent as most males. It was gentler, softer, and colder. Rather than beat you down with violence, Armond was more likely to tear you apart with words. He lost several maids in one week because they refused to do as he wished. So he spoke to them their worst fears, picked at their insecurities, and tore them down.

Before he left for the Academy, he had driven ten maids and three male servants to suicide. This was strike two. Strike three never came. It was because of a rare opportunity. He is sure it was planned like this though. The chance came late at night. He was outside in the courtyard reading as usual. It was oddly quiet though. He closed his eyes. He didn’t hear anything. Nothing was there. He looked up and around. No guards. There was nobody patrolling the perimeter. Armond closed the book. In the time it took him to close it he had considered all the possibilities. He thought about what could go wrong. He knew what he was doing.

The next day Armond had taken the entrance exam and was a Shinigami Academy. He graduated within four years. Afterwards, he was taken in by the Onmitsukido. He continued his studies with them, he learned how to stealth kill. He learned how to blend in. He learned many things. Armond was a bottomless pit though. He craved information. He longed for it. He loved it. He needed it. Without it, Armond would die. He had one belief in life. Knowledge is power. He spent his days fawning over technique scrolls. Learning various tips and tricks the Onmitsukido used. As well as general books of knowledge. Armond was not only physically dangerous but mentally.

The Captain took notice of Armond’s lust for knowledge. He used it to his advantage. He promoted Armond to Lieutenant. Something his predecessor didn’t like. The Captain, Captain Jack, used Armond’s knowledge to help him plan assassinations. Armond helped with drills, he helped with invasions too. The Captain would bring him to captain meetings to not only show him off, but to assist them with attacks. Armond had proved to be more tactical and sharp than most of the other captains. Captain Jack was naïve. Armond new this, and he used it to his advantage.
Armond is not a brute by any means. But he knew what he wanted. And he always took the needed steps to get it. He wanted the 2nd Division. But Jack stood in his way. So what did he have to do? Cut him down. Armond eventually obtained his bankai. He got it while he was in Italy. It was a rather nice area. He enjoyed his time there, and would always house a special spot in his heart for the boot shaped land. He told his captain he was thinking about taking the captaincy test. His captain was thrilled. He asked when. Armond attacked. Off-guard the captain tried to gather his wits. He looked around, captains and squad members appeared. This was the test. It was kill or be killed.

The captain had relied on Armond’s mind for so long that his own had begun to decline. Hit fighting skills were sharp due to his muscle memory, but his overall tactic skills were long past dead. Armond’s lithe body moved gracefully. His cold red eyes were fixed on their target. Armond moved, dodging all of the captain’s attacks. He pressured him to force him to stay in his sealed state. Armond never let up. His captain was dying before his very eyes, and Armond was the weapon that was killing him. The fight lasted for hours. Captain Jack was trying to outsmart Armond. He knew this was a losing battle, he had lost so much blood already. Maybe he could tire Armond out though. Maybe.

Armond noticed when his captain stopped attacking and started defending. He was trying not to lose. He wanted to tire Armond out. The younger silver-haired Shinigami sighed and shook his head. His captain was pathetic. He despised him. He showed such weakness. It made him sick. Captain Jack charged Armond. Armond looked at this as a last hurrah. In one graceful motion it happened. Armond fall onto his back. His captain flew over him. Armond gripped onto Jack’s shoulders, planted his knees in his stomach, and used his momentum to roll themselves over so that Armond was on top. Before the captain could react, his neck was snapped.

Armond stood up and the Shinigami whispered amongst themselves. Could they trust this man? He hadn’t even shown his bankai. What were they to do? He abided by the rules, and fought fairly. But his power and his limits were unknown. They had no choice but to accept him. He would just take the exam again and pass anyway. They allowed Armond to become the new Second Division captain. The man Armond had replaced as Lieutenant didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all, and so he plotted.

Armond took to work right away. It took him another one hundred years before he mastered the art of Shunko. It was a powerful technique and not one he used often, if at all. Why? Because he didn’t like to. He loved the technique itself. But overall it just wasn’t for him. He wasn’t going to not learn it though. Knowledge is power, after all. Armond studied various other scrolls and books that allowed him to know things past captains of the 2nd Division had known. He never relied on anyone else though. But he always manipulated. Always.

Behind Armond’s back, plans were in motion. Armond was not to be trusted. A lot of the captains didn’t trust him, and those that did only trusted him as far as the time of day. Nobody wanted anything to do with Armond really, and by his standards that was perfectly fine. Armond hated people. He didn’t have friends. He didn’t have loves. He loved one person. He would die for one person. He would kill for this one person. Enrya Solstice Silverblood, his twin sister. Armond didn’t care for anyone else. He watched them in silence. He monitored them. He couldn’t notice one thing though: the things that happened behind the doors of Central 46. And Central 46 had heard of the mistrust of Armond. As such, he was put under investigation.

After ten years of looking, Armond was picked. Central 46 didn’t want a repeat incident that had happened years and years ago when the traitor Aizen was here. Armond received a letter on his desk. It told him he had been picked for Operation Daemon. Armond was to approach a man by the alias of Plato. He did as he was told and arrived in the Valley of the Kings. The man named Plato attacked him. It was a quick attack. It had one simple objective: introduce the hogyoku to Armond’s body. It had been found shortly after the battle with Aizen and the others, and Central 46 had kept a close eye on it ever since. If indeed this proved to be the key to unlocking Hollow abilities it would be destroyed, never to be found again.

Things went wrong though. Armond was introduced to the hogyoku as planned. He went mad. He went crazy. He killed Plato, and ran. The Hogyoku was left to it’s own devices. Armond would later have to track it down. For now though his body was changing. Turning into a beast that destroyed anything that moved, be it alive or not. Inside of his body, Armond met a fellow by the name of Gatto. He told him that he was his Inner Hollow. The thing that would kill him. It would take his body, and kill and slaughter innocents.

This idea lasted about two minuets, and thirty seconds. Armond was not to be toyed with. Armond gave this Inner Hollow one warning before he left his body. ”There is one rule here. Don’t fuck with Armond.” With that, he left his Inner World. Armond had control of his body again. He was a Vizard now. The only one of his race that was alive today. He had been alive for so long, if there were others they would have been here by now. Armond was alone. That was perfectly fine with him.

He was an enemy of the Soul Society now. Was this their plan? To be-rid of him? The answer came one day when he snuck back into the Soul Society. It had been years later, and he was able to move around freely. Someone must have noticed him and or expected his arrival because there was a document on his desk. The document had a rose on top of it and he knew who it was. He looked through it quickly. It spoke of Central 46’s decision to experiment with the Hogyoku to see exactly how it worked. To them it was better to have the knowledge and not need it than to need it and not have it. Should anyone ever invent such a thing ever again they want to be ready. It said that the experiment was a failure because Plato never came back.

Armond was out of time. He had to go. Before he left he visited the breeding ground for Hell Butterflies and told one of them to seek out Enrya and to tell her that he’d be in Italy should she ever need him. With that final message he left the Soul Society forever, or at least until he was needed. Armond never once looked back though. He fled to Italy where things began to go to hell. The Hollow attack had begun and he was left alone to defend himself. Being who he was he was able to slay all who came his way. He needed an army though. After Italy was secured he created the House of Masks. This house was a large manor that served as a safe haven for all who needed it, with his permission of course.

Afterwards he went to the Egypt. He needed the Hogyoku. He couldn’t find it. He spent one year looking for it in the Valley of the Kings, but it wasn’t there. Someone had taken it. It wasn’t the Soul Society. He just knew it. There were traces of Hollow reiatsu here. Armond knew one place where it could be. Hueco Mundo. He was a dying race. The Vizard’s future rested with him. He needed that item. He found a way into Hueco Mundo and moved Hell from Earth to Las Noches’ doorstep. He slew all Arrancar who stood in his way. He cut down any Hollow. He eventually met a man by the name of Sin. He held the Hogyoku. Armond attacked. The battle went on and on. Eventually the Hogyoku broke, and Armond suffered a cut to his chest.

The cut was not terrible, or fatal. But Armond faked as such. He needed to. He used the chance he had while Sin gloated to grab a piece of the shattered Hogyoku. Sin told him to leave. He told him that he could have his precious Italy back. Armond acted scorned, beaten, and hurt. Things were going well though. He saw the face of his enemy. He knew his power. And he had obtained a vital piece of equipment needed to save his race.

Shortly after returning to Italy, he fused the Hogyoku within the chest wound. It sealed up nicely and left no indication that it was ever there. That was the only gift the Hogyoku gave him. It gave him no extra power. It gave him no regeneration capabilities. The shard was not big enough. The last of it’s healing power was given to that one wound. Armond had all he needed. He knew what to do. He set up a chess board in his room. He moves the pieces with each development.

Imagine a man so powerful, one word can bring people to tears. One word can show someone life or death. One word can grant people smiles or rage. Imagine a man so powerful that Death is his best friend. Death is his worst enemy. Death is his present to all who oppose him. Imagine a man name, Armond La’Crow Silverblood.