Ichigo Kurosaki 黒崎 一護

"At first, I thought "I want to protect Mom." The ones to protect increased with the birth of my sisters. I kept going to a dojo for the sake of protecting them. I got a bit stronger. The ones I thought I wanted to protect became more and more. " Indie Ichigo Kurosaki rp

[slayingmoon]

IMPORTANT (HIATUS)

Due to my laptop not functioning I gotta put this, and my other blogs on hiatus. I seriously have no idea when it's going to get fixed so sorry to my followers. To any threads I had I apologize for the inconvience.

[sternritteru]

slayingmoon has appeared before you

"Good evening Kurosaki."

[slayingmoon]

卐—"…. Who the hell are you?"

[sternritteru]

"NaNaNa Nahajhop, stern ritter u at your service."

[slayingmoon]

卐— "Stern Ritter...

Then you're one of those Quincy!"

[slayingmoon]

卐—"You little shit—!"

The adolescent roseate’s incursion inflicted a salvo of kicks  as soles meet the teenager’s profile. For a girl of diminutive stature she executed her assault with swift ferocity. "I won’t fall for the same thing twice—! Off!” A protesting voice clamored, raising a foot against the girl in retaliation. 

[kyandidorobo-deactivated2014051]

Recalcitrant taunting laughter erupted from betwixt nude tiers, she dashed away from the threatening limb. Lissome extremities ran encircled motions around the Substitute Shinigami, arms flailed in the air. The small shinigami chanted, “Candy! Candy! Candy!” 

"—Silly Icchi~" Stubby appendages curled around a strong shin, short legs followed suit. She clung to him, a ear-to-ear grin marred a tender semblance. "You may not fall for that a second time, but I have other things up my sleeve!" 

[slayingmoon]

卐— The gangly extremity commoved with strenuous exertion as her own limbs adhered. Though, such a standing left his bearings greatly hindered. Perturbed ligaments quickly grew tiresome of her trival charade and conveyed defeat. His own agitation only seem to serve as a basis for her own frivolous demeanor. 

"Why me?  Don't you have someone else to bother? Where the hell is Kenpachi, anyway?"

[fuckyeahichigokurosaki-blog]

Hell Chapter

[kaasamatsu]

Kurosaki Ichigo // Age 17

Hair Color ;; Orange // Eye Color ;; Brown

Occupation ;; High School Student 

Cannot see Ghosts

[du--soleil-deactivated20130830]

Two Precious BBy's started following you.

[du--soleil-deactivated20130830]

卐— "Kurosaki..?"

"Hey! Don’t you know it’s rude not to introduce yourself? Hmm, you got pretty cool hair! The color is really bright, and it’s messy! Does it take you a long time to get it like that in the morning?"

[slayingmoon]

卐— "Forget that... Your name. You said your name was-- Kurosaki?"

[slayingmoon]

卐— "You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me."

[kyandidorobo-deactivated2014051]

Rosy tiers pursed and brows furrowed, defiance setting it’s path within her esse. If he wasn’t going to give her candy…she would ensure he did! An idea struck her, lips would stretch into a large simper and mischievous dark hues embellished the Lieutenant’s countenance.

The pinkette leaped from her perched position upon the tree and aimed miniature extremities at the strawberry’s head. “Candy~ Candy~ Candy~ Hand it over Icchi!” 

[slayingmoon]

卐—"You little shit--!" The adolescent roseate's incursion inflicted a salvo of kicks  as soles meet the teenager's profile. For a girl of diminutive stature she executed her assault with swift ferocity. "I won't fall for the same thing twice--! Off!" A protesting voice clamored, raising a foot against the girl in retaliation. 

[du--soleil-deactivated20130830]

Two Precious BBy's started following you.

"Ohaiyo! Are you new here? I’m Masaki Kurosaki, it’s a pleasure to meet you!"

[slayingmoon]

卐— "Kurosaki..?"

[senpai-caps]

[slayingmoon]

"...I can't...I really can't...hehe...I'm terrible aren't I...it's my last time to see you and I'm...Kurosaki-kun, you know, I...had a lot of things I wanted to do...I want to be a teacher, I also want to be an astronaut, and also make my own cake shop, I want to go to Mister Doughnut's and say "I'll have them all!", and I want to go to Thirty One and say "I'll have them all!". Ohhhh, I wish I could live five times over! Then I'd be born in five different cities. I'd stuff myself full with different delicious things five times each. I'd have five different jobs...and then for those five times...I'd fall in love with the same person."

[kyandidorobo-deactivated2014051]

slayingmoon started following you

[kyandidorobo-deactivated2014051]

"Icchi~! Where’s my candy, ne?" 

[slayingmoon]

卐— "You've got to be freakin' kidding me."

[sternritteru]

slayingmoon has appeared before you

"Good evening Kurosaki."

[slayingmoon]

卐—".... Who the hell are you?"

[slayingmoon]

卐— Distinct vibrant orange tufts of hair that both retained an tousled but kempt apperance, yielded against a whispering breeze in an undulating motion. With his bag’s strap secured within calloused digits and slung over sturdy shoulders, Ichigo tread leisurely as he ventured home along the elevated bank’s stony sprawl, neighboring the channel’s body of rippling water. 

Countenance bore an expression void of sentiment, languid lids hooded solemn optics, quite apathetic to the autumnal equinox around him. One could interpret him to be in deep contemplation, but they would be wrong, in actuality little to nothing occupied his weary mind. The murmuring wind ceased to a disconcerting hush, and lungs unfurled to a brief stillness as he came to a halt. A presence, made palpable by the trained individual. With a subtle inclination of his head he craned around to discern who this individual was.

"….."

[chuushin-deactivated20140411]

The sun was almost setting as Rangiku mad her way through the small city of Karakura Town. She needed to find the Substitute Shinigami. Having been sent there to find him, usually it was Kuchiki. Today was different, everyone had been busy and she had been itching to get out of the Soul Society. It had never been one of her favorite places. The Soul Society was quiet and quaint, it wasn’t her style. For some reason she loved the sound of the blaring horns, the cars zooming by. Sometimes she felt as if she had been born in the wrong era in the first place. She wasn’t exactly savvy with technology though, the one thing she was lacking. Communicators made by the Twelfth Division were a completely different story.

Finally that bright orange hair caught her attention, moving her way down the steps of the river bank. He was there, with that little school bag of his. Ichigo was still a kid in her mind, it somehow set off a maternal instinct in her. She wanted to protect him from the future, a future she knew would follow him. A deep sigh resonated from her lips. When he turned his attention to her, a bright smile spread across her features. “Ichigo! How are you?”

"It’s been a while hasn’t it?"

[slayingmoon]

卐-- "Eh, Rangiku?" Meeting the blonde's sanguine expression with surprise. Cascading auricomous locks swept over graceful, fair matured features in rivulets. The woman who so candidly flaunted her feminine endowments unearthed a nervousness from Ichigo, though it wouldn't show. It was rare the two came to interact with eachother so his own intent gaze watched with questioning scrutiny. 

"Why're you in the world of the living?"

[slayingmoon]

卐—"Eh, what did you expect."

[el--protector]

"I haven’t seen you in awhile. You could have been dead for all i knew."

[slayingmoon]

卐-- "You should have a little more faith in me."

[slayingmoon]

卐— Distinct vibrant orange tufts of hair that both retained an tousled but kempt apperance, yielded against a whispering breeze in an undulating motion. With his bag’s strap secured within calloused digits and slung over sturdy shoulders, Ichigo tread leisurely as he ventured home along the elevated bank’s stony sprawl, neighboring the channel’s body of rippling water. 

Countenance bore an expression void of sentiment, languid lids hooded solemn optics, quite apathetic to the autumnal equinox around him. One could interpret him to be in deep contemplation, but they would be wrong, in actuality little to nothing occupied his weary mind. The murmuring wind ceased to a disconcerting hush, and lungs unfurled to a brief stillness as he came to a halt. A presence, made palpable by the trained individual. With a subtle inclination of his head he craned around to discern who this individual was.

"….."

[ishidauryuu]

Elongated strides brought with it a deep, monotonous echo which welcomed the quiet streets periodically as a result to leisurely taken footsteps. Within the quiet streets of Karakura town’s seemingly tranquil surroundings moved but a lone archer; far from void of intention. It would appear as though despite the Quincy’s reluctance to place himself within the individual’s presence (the one whom - quite expectantly, had yet to notice his surroundings) such things were… Necessary; if not to divulge a certain quantity of information, than to blatantly show the other just how mindless he could be.

"As observant as ever, Kurosaki." Was the single stream of comments to bypass parted lips. Within the periodic moment in which the Quincy’s words took a momentary halt; thin fingers adjusted that which corrected his impaired vision. Adjusting the strap soon afterwards - the one which extended from a right shoulder to a left hip, placid orbs flickered contemplatively towards the Substitute’s appearance before a lone brow rose; arching high upon the younger of the two’s forehead.

"Had you stalled perhaps a moment longer, one might have assumed you were rendered completely oblivious to the world around you.”

[slayingmoon]

卐— Svelte brows sulcate upon youthful lineament, ingraining his trademark immutable scowl. His tone possessed a perceptible note of slight vexation as he addressed his fellow companion. "What're you trying to be all cool for."

[slayingmoon]

卐— Distinct vibrant orange tufts of hair that both retained an tousled but kempt apperance, yielded against a whispering breeze in an undulating motion. With his bag’s strap secured within calloused digits and slung over sturdy shoulders, Ichigo tread leisurely as he ventured home along the elevated bank’s stony sprawl, neighboring the channel’s body of rippling water. 

Countenance bore an expression void of sentiment, languid lids hooded solemn optics, quite apathetic to the autumnal equinox around him. One could interpret him to be in deep contemplation, but they would be wrong, in actuality little to nothing occupied his weary mind. The murmuring wind ceased to a disconcerting hush, and lungs unfurled to a brief stillness as he came to a halt. A presence, made palpable by the trained individual. With a subtle inclination of his head he craned around to discern who this individual was.

"….."

[humblemartyr]

   There was not a single doubt about it considering the strange habits and the abilities she held in identifying who was near immediately. That is, if she wasn’t such an air-headed, clumsy individual. Then again, she did know how to distinguish the unique scent and the shade of bright cantaloupe color that was visible from miles away; that belonged to just one certain someone.

   Not long enough had passed before her slender extremities took her automatically to her destination—it being behind the much taller male—for the usual small surprise. But her minute, devious plan had crashed the moment he inclined his temple briefly—enough to catch a glimpse at her face. A small “Ah—” was commented before taking her small doll-like hand back and using it to scratch at her plump cheeks along with a nervous, guilty laugh.

   ”—O-Ohayo, Kurosaki-kun. I see you’ve been becoming better at sensing if someone is around, ehe.”

[slayingmoon]

卐— "Ah, Inoue." Decumbent lids idly spectated her, if only for a moment. "Yeah, I guess." He retorted with waning optics, to spectate the woman of much smaller stature. Ethereal dark orange locks complimented her own matured beauty. Her laugh, both gleeful and gawky seemed to fill him with a contented ease.

"Where are you going?" He inquired plainly. He hadn't expected to see her on his routine route from school.

[slayingmoon]

卐— Tangible power amassed, distal to the focal point of rigid metacarpals. Spawning the manifestation of the volatile spherical body, emission of incandescent magneta illuminated the immediate vicinity and discharged with instantaneous vehemence. It’s broad scope strewn with himself as it’s intended target. Displaced wind hissed as if to accentuate the building anticipation of climax.  An esoteric power only feasible for a hollow or other evolutionized variants, like Arrancar. In Karakura town—? Questions involuntarily arose but given the situation he’d have to bide his time. The representative badge already occupied a firm grasp, dauntlessly composed against the imminent force that reduced all in it’s wake to friable residue. Taut digits abruptly pressed it upon his solid frame, thus forcibly expunging his soul from his vacant body.

Incarnate of a Shinigami, the subsitute became adorned in ebony garments and equipped with a Zanpakuto akin to that of a large cleaver. Grasp readily belayed the hilt of his weapon as bonds unraveled and liberated the broad blade all within the small window of time before impact. The sibilant parchment like tear of wind being displaced sounded raucously. Ichigo responded with the execution of a swift strike of his implement along the centre of the forthcoming beam. Both opposing forces meet in a deafening clash, the volatile mix resulted in an encompassing eruption, torn asunder down the centre until the beam diminished into nothingness.  Billowing somber clouds of obscurity pervaded about, dissipating and replaced with clarity. Face bore features of intense conviction, and subtly gave off confusion at the same time. The other unfamiliar to him which brought about a blunt inquiry. ❝Who the hell are you?❞

[arma-mordida-deactivated2013092]

“…Huh.”

—- [剣] — The aftermath of his Cero being bisected so fortuitously by the human youth’s was stunning. In the blossoming wake of rubble-born, smouldering vapour elucidated the rinsed silhouette of the Arrancar. He was turned side-on, a mild deportment skimming across buoyant, verdant features from which the offender’s sights swiped curiously in the invisible, continued path of the corridor the immense volume of light would have veered down.

—- [剣] — Had he not remained perpendicular on a sideward angle, he might have had to have vacated his spot so soon. And ah, how he’d come to enjoy his location upon the riverbank. Noticing the commendable dexterity of the other, the Sabre-Dragon’s unenthused disposition warped into a callow, scheming smile of devilish pugnacity. The honour of serving beneath His Majesty was tribute enough within gleaming, nefarious textures of a molten sunlight. Pride exhibited itself in wanton governance.

—- [剣] — “Not bad reaction time,” Ggio reflected with ambiguous neutrality. ”Power’s not lacking, either. That’s good. Bet you carved through a lot of us, huh?” The evidence had all but been piled in front of him. It was stark. This was Ichigo Kurosaki, the heaven-sent ’chosen one’ who bulldozed into Las Noches and knocked out the sorry bastards who were too weak to fulfil their obligations. Spectacular. He didn’t expect this messiah child to have experienced enough to fear an enemy of his immediate calibre, either through sheer, blunt greenery, or through reinforcement of confidence in his ability. Hah. Either way, underestimating the twenty-sixth was out of the question altogether.

—- [剣] — “Now, then…” What was he really dealing with here? Before introducing himself, Ggio should have applied logic to the situation. So he did, quite aptly, to boot. A level-headedness reminiscent of the very tyrant from whom his order had been siphoned. Throughout, subtly, fair-dusted tips danced across the loosening muzzle of Tigre Estoque in coaxing the tool of butchery from its shell. Polished by the climate, it inched free in constant awareness of the other’s position — quickening, should the demand he so summoned. A kid — a delinquent — to whom fighting was habitual. Audacious. Irrational at times, perhaps. Emotions and treasured souls near to him most assuredly a weakness, but an accelerant and enraging one. That would be used sparingly. He had quite the multitude of traits, didn’t he?

A head as thick as this would cement well atop His Majesty’s bell-tower.

—- [剣] — “Remember these names well, because I really hate hitting the same spot twice. Ggio Vega, subordinate to His Majesty of Hueco Mundo, Baraggan Louisenbairn! Oh, and I also happen to be your executioner, today.” The skidding of alloy upon alloy; and the predator was unchained from its pound. The squared-off weapon propositioned directly across along the tangent of his pectorals. “Now that we’re done with the show and tell, mind getting this started? You strike me as the type who’ll jump up to protect anyone and everyone in the city I intend to set ablaze, so let’s skip the intermediaries already. Waiting around isn’t my forte, exactly.” 

[slayingmoon]

卐--"It's like that, huh?"

"I don't care what your name is, if you won't surrender then I'll just take care of you." Assured in his standing and abilities beneath undaunted exterior, he almost came off as condescending. Apathetic to his own seemingly patronizing superiority. Pallid digits secured a firm grasp around the circumference of his Zanpakuto's helve, poised for their inevitable physical dispute. A remnant of Aizen's army it seemed, operating on his own accord out of a sense of vengeance. He had never encountered this Arrancar before.

"Let me ask you a question. What's the point in all this if Aizen's imprisoned and your leader is dead." The recollection of aforementioned events rang fresh in the youth's mind. The result left him without his spiritual power, and an accompanying sense of powerlessness. Only recently had he regained his status as a Substitute Shinigami. His aggressor's snide remarks conveyed contempt, not that it deterred him in the slightest, his arrogance would be his downfall.  

[slayingmoon]