Volgana Hyubasa WIP

Name: Volgana Hyubasa

Gender:Male

Age:Age of Death:22 Age of Appearance:38 Real Age:162

Reiatsu Color: Pink

Reiatsu Flavor: Fresh Cute Grass

Weapons:
Zanpakuto- A weapon formed while he was in the academy.

Throwing Stars- Small stars he keeps hidden in his clothing shaped like sakura blossoms with rounded edges.

Fighting Style: Falling Blossom- A style he created using Hakkyokuen (Bajiquan) Hakkesho (Baguazhang) Chaquan (Changquan) and Capoera.

Swirling Blossom- After realizing that his original fighting technique was almost impossible to use with his zanpakuto because of its size he developed another technique based off of the original but using only the core moves of Hakkyokuen (Bajiquan) and Chaquan (Changquan)


Personality:(Everyone has a general personality)

Appearance: (what they look like pics are welcomed )

Zanpakutô Spirit:



Sealed Zanpakutô :

Shikai Description: (You or your sword's new appearance)

Shikai Abilities: (What are the abilities your Shikai has? Do not overpower your shikai.)

Release:(What you have to say in order to release. try to be original.)

Skill Level: Kidou: Beginner/Adept/Advanced/Master
Skill Level: Swordsmanship: Beginner/Adept/Advanced/Master
Skill Level: Shunpo: Beginner/Adept/Advanced/Master
Skill Level: Hand-to-Hand: Beginner/Adept/Advanced/Master

Bankai Description: (The appearance of you and the sword, assuming it still is a sword)

Bankai Abilities: (Your sword's abilities now that it is in its ultimate stage)

History/Background: A meeting of chefs from around the world. Masters of the culinary arts. His mother a well known chef in japan and his father a culinary master at a university in the United states. Both met at the conference and it was love. Soon after his father moved to Japan a restaurant was opened between the two in the urban area of Tokyo.

Not only known in the city and country areas of Japan it was also known world wide for the mixture of Japanese and American cuisine. Soon a wedding was planed and with the wedding came the birth of a child. Taking on the image of his father even tho he has a Japanese background. A young boy who grew in the kitchens of his parents restaurant. At a young age his understanding in the culinary world was that of a master. Running his parents restaurant at the age of 8 he mastered his skills. Not only was he brilliant in the back of a kitchen, his social skills in the upper class was known throughout the area.

Even though his brilliance excelled him at a young age there were still things that he couldn't explain. How he was able to learn so much at such a young age. His mind was like a sponge. His speed with a blade was unmatched. He could chop, dice, Julianna, and mince faster than even his parents. His parents decided to enroll him into a martial arts class at a young age. With only the intention of their son to be able to protect himself turned into another obsession. When he wasn't in the kitchen or out in public he was in the dojo. His skills increased due to his headstrong attitude and his unmatched ability of learning.

School was a challenge all his own as he struggled to balance classes, his culinary career, his connections in the social world and his martial arts skills. When stressed he would view the cherry blossoms in the spring time and grew to love them. Soon his love of the blossoms intertwined into his cooking. Not only did he adorn his parents restaurant with the symbol of sakura he also wore clothes with the symbol as well.

Attending a private school in japan. A playground for the children of the wealthy he grew in popularity. He put together events, party's and banquets so grand that even the dean recognized who he was.He excelled in the culinary club, the martial arts club and even the young host club. Soon fame grew too much for the young culinary master. He found that instead of spending time in the kitchen he was spending time with other tasks. By his 8th grade year he was worn from the long days and sleepless nights. He couldn't walk down the road without running into people who knew him. People stopping to take pictures, to talk, to have him sign photographs. When he started High school he became almost a recluse. Not reaching out to his friends and staying in solitude. He spent hours in the kitchen and in the gym. High school was a blur and graduation came to quick.

A letter came in the mail one day as he graduated from his High school. It was hidden in the pile of College acceptance letters. As he read through letter after letter he stopped to stare not at the contents but the letter itself. Slipping it into his pocket he packed a light bag, his knife kit and the keys to his motorcycle. A gift from his parents and a beauty all its own. Top Chef written on the sides adored with cherry blossoms. The sleek black body glittered in the moonlight. He wrote a letter to his parents explaining his reasons for leaving. He rode off into the night in search for a easier life.

Restaurant after restaurant he traveled. Only managing to stay in one place for sometimes even a week because of how quick the news of his disappearance traveled. He worked enough to make money to fuel his motorcycle and his stomach. As his funds diminished he though of pulling money out of his account. As he struggled between the choice he noticed a fast food restaurant across the street displaying burgers for a dollar. He had never heard of such a absurd price. Food that cheap couldn't be good or have any nutritional value. He pondered on the ingredients as he ordered a burger. He ate it in haste since his stomach was grumbling and realized it was quite good. Not gourmet as he was use too but still tasted good.

He started to travel to various fast food stores and cheap restaurants discovering that a meal could be good without being expensive. As the fall approached his reached into his jacket and pulled out the letter. He had often looked at it but never opened it. With a sigh he broke the seal and read the contents. His eyes glowed as he read the letter. A school where he could be with people like himself.. Where he wouldn't be known and could live in peace. Also the chance to experience another kind of cuisine. He returned home after almost a year of disappearance and explained to his parents his story. After a week his bags were packed, his motorcycle in a container heading to airport of his arrival and his mind set on new goals he smiled and slipped into a light sleep on the flight before it even took off.

As the plane landed he woke with a start. He was in a new setting. Soon after gathering his bags and arranging all but his knife kit to be taken to the school he jumped on his motorcycle with directions to the school and drove off into the sun.

Volgana spent his freshman year excelling in his courses. Not only did he excel in the classroom but his reputation as a cook and as a fighter grew. By his sophomore year he was already the president of not only the schools culinary team but also the schools Mixed Martial Arts team. By his senior year he was known throughout most of culinary world as well as the martial arts world. He surpassed even the teachers at his school in the culinary arts and put the school the top of the news.

Martial arts or Culinary in every tournament he took first place but in his heart something was missing. Each day passed and he gained nothing. Even though he was the main event all the time he felt like he wasn't even on the radar. He smiled and kept his head high but on the inside he felt empty. One night he couldn't sleep. His school days were ending. He only had a few months left and he would leave this school. This thought didn't terrify him. It didn't comfort him. It was just another place and a different time. His foot steps thudded down an empty hall as he walked to the schools kitchen and tied on his apron. As he went through the motions of getting the kitchen set up he looked at the time. 3am his clock said. He filled the triple sinks, adding the needed chemicals. He turned on the gas and opened the coolers letting the cold envelope over his skin. He smiled as the familiar smells of food washed over his face. He slowly plucked items from the shelves and placed them on one of the stainless steel tables. He walked over to the spice rack as he mulled over his life and how it had been going so far.

His knife flashed as it moved across the cutting board. The sizzle of a pain full of hot oil and the smell of spices blending filled the kitchen. Unknown to Volgana the hiss of gas fell silent to the crackling of the pan as the room slowly filled. Volgana's nose did not detect the gas because his nose was filled with the aroma of food. As he slowly plated his food, shaping his creation he though of his accomplishments in life. His understanding of food and the ancient techniques he had learned. His skills in the social world. His mind drifted over his parents as he removed his apron and sat down to eat.

His fork clanked against ceramic as he savored each bite. As he finished he stood slowly and listened to sounds of the kitchen. He pulled his phone out and looked at the time. It was morning in Japan and he knew his parents would be up. He pulled out his phone but decided against it. He knew that his parents would be busy right now so he would call them later. As he put away his dishes he noticed the flame from one of the burners flickering higher than normal. Licks of flame kissed the air as he walked closer. He sighed and turned the burner down and walked to the dish pit. As he scrubbed his dishes the sound of wind being sucked from a room filled his head. Flames exploded showering the room in flame. Volgana was knocked into the sinks and fell to the floor. As he struggled to open his eyes he could feel the unbarring heat on his skin. He slipped in and out of reality as he watched the flames flood the kitchen.

He laughed softly as he laid on the ceramic floor. He couldn't reach the gas cutoff from where he was and he was in no condition to move. He could feel blood flowing from his head as he slowly slipped away. He grasped the floor as the sprinklers kicked in washing the flame away as well as the blood on his forehead. His funeral followed as his parents grieved his death. As Volgana rested peacefully in his coffin his spirit was being sent to another place by a man in a black uniform.


As long as Volgana could remember he had been in Rukongai. He couldn't remember much about his past or his childhood but somehow being here felt right. He worked for a small restaurant in the upper district. He worked the kitchens making food and plating his creations. He was unmatched in his culinary skills in the surrounding area. Sometimes he would peek out from the kitchen to view his patrons. Every now and then he would see people dressed similar sitting down with swords strapped to their bodies. He would wonder who they were as he turned meat on the grill and plated food drizzled with sauces that would dance on your tongue leaving you refreshed.

When he wasn't cooking he was in the fields of the surrounding area practicing his fighting style. Using the falling petals as the grounds for his movements he slowly practiced his moves until he had a basic understanding of his own style. He dreamed of becoming a cook for one of the Head houses but he had never met anyone from the head house. He had just heard rumors of the head houses. One name he heard more than any other was the Kuchiki house. Byakuya Kuchiki was a name he had heard before but what the man looked like was a mystery to Volgana.

One day while he was training in the fields next to small stream he pondered on the name. He had heard stories about his power. Rumors circled around the Rukonagai whenever he asked about the man. Some refereed to him as Kuchiki-Taicho. Volgana knew Taicho meant captain but captain of what. He rested briefly and drank from the stream as he wondered what kind of man he was. As he rested briefly he noticed a figure in the distance. Before Volgana could say anything the figure was gone.

On his way to work Volgana was stopped by his boss. The man seemed excited as he told Volgana to put on his finest uniform. Volgana was perplexed as to why he had to. He normally put it on when someone of great importance visited his restaurant. As Volgana put on his uniform and tightened the apron around his waist he wonderer who was visiting his work. Who could he be cooking for.

Stepping into the kitchen he instantly began cooking. His knife flashed over the cutting board as he heard the door to the kitchen open. Seeing his boss standing over his shoulder he grew the courage to ask who he was cooking for. One of the head houses he was told. When he asked exactly who he was told Byakuya Kuchiki. In excitement Volgana begged to be the one to serve the meal to the table. Sweat poured from his face as he plated each meal with precision and certainty that his hard work would finally be rewarded.

As he carried the meal to the table he saw a man in a white coat. Ceramic pieces rested on his head, long raven black hair fell over his shoulders. Volgana felt a presence of power and respect as he silently placed his creation in front of the man he knew as Kuchiki-Ta
icho. He bowed slightly and walked back to the kitchen. As he entered he turned and peeked through a crack at the man. He watched as his meal was slowly devoured. Thoughts ran through his head as he wondered if his meal was good, had anything been undercooked or overcooked. Was the sauce to his liking. Were the vegetables fresh enough. As the meal was finished Volgana walked back out and removed the plate from in front of the man. He turned to walk away but a hand was placed on his shoulder. Volgana turned slowly to find that even though he was slightly taller he presence was minuscule compared to the man before him. Silence filled the room as Volgana started to shake. What did he want. Why had he stopped him from leaving.

Volgana smiled and bowed before speaking. "I hope you enjoyed your meal Kuchiki-Taicho." He said slowly before bowing again. "I hope everything was to your liking." "Yes, Yes it was." Volgana heard him say. "And I think you should take the entrance exams to the shinigami academy." Shinigami Academy. What was that. Volgana wondered. "Yes sir I will." Volgana said with another bow "Thank you for your complements sir." As Volgana turned a smile formed on his lips. Days later he stood in front of the academy wearing a different uniform than he was accustom too. His exams had been hard but he managed to pass.

Volgana's first year at the academy was over before he could blink. He was being taught the basics of kido, hand to hand fighting and sword fighting. He also learned the meaning of being a Shinigami. He learned the true task a shinigami holds. To help souls from the real world pass over peacefully. To keep souls from being devoured by hollows. Hollows he learned were souls that turned evil and formed into monsters over time

He cooked in his spare time so his skills wouldn't become rusty. When he wasn't learning about the proper ways to kill hollows he was learning combat skills. His second year was just as fast but twice as hard. He started to learn about the weapon most shinigami used. A zanpakuto which was the materialized form of one's soul. Volgana started to wonder about his soul. What kind of zanpakuto would he receive. What was his soul like. Cooking in the kitchens of the academy brought him to believe that he needed to search his soul. To look for the voice that would be his soul.

Days pasted as he trained harder and entered his third year at the academy. He spent more time devoted to sharpening his skills with a sword and using kido in succession. He joked around some by telling others that combining Kido was like combining ingredients. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it goes wrong. At night he would sit in the kitchen cooking while listening for his soul.

One night while sleeping he had a dream. A voice was calling him from a field of trees. Light pink, red and white blossoms fluttered around as Volgana walked down the rows of trees. He kept on hearing the voice calling his name. He still couldn't figure where the voice was coming from. Finally he spotted a figure in the distance and started to run towards the figure. As he grew closer a branch seemed to lower and knocked Volgana to the ground. His head filled with a voice as he layed on the ground dazed. "Not yet you Baka." The voice was that of a young girl. Sweet and innocent but with a noticeable bite. "You do not have the right to see me yet. Maybe after a while longer I might allow you too but now you will learn my name and only that." Volgana tried to turn his head to look but the tree was in his way. "My name is Ohanami." Volgana let the name flow from his mouth as he stood slowly and closed his eyes. When he opened them he was in bed holding a sword tightly in his arms.

His zanpakuto had been revealed. Was that his spirit he had spoken too in his dream. "Ohanami" The name seemed so familer yet he had never heard it before. And the voice of his spirit belonged to that of a child. The next day he tried to tie his zanpakuto to his waist but it was too long. He had to place it on his back and tie it with a sash.


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