Age- Uncertain, several years more than 25 upon graduating Shinigami Academy. She retains the appearance she had when she died at age 22.
Reiatsu Color- Dull silver shading to tarnished black at edges
Reiatsu Form- no specific form noticed to date
Profession- Shinigami (formerly Navy Electronics Technician)
Previous Position- 7th Division Vice-Captain
Division- 7th Division
Base of Operations- Soul Society
Friends- None (known to be alive)
Enemies- ... <.< everyone >.> ...
Bankai- Paradox Resolved
Appearance Tatsuki is a short woman with broad shoulders, a lean muscled build, and somewhat delicate-looking bone structure. Her tanned skin has a coppery hue and her naturally curly hair is long (she can't quite sit on it), dark blonde with copper-gold highlights, and is kept tied back in a pony tail with a leather thong covered by a long black cloth. Finger-combing takes a long time to get the knots out, so it is often unkempt. Her face has high and somewhat prominent cheekbones and a stubborn chin. She has noticeable fangs. Her eyes have a feline slant and are storm gray. When something manages to break through her armor of indifference and anger her, they are silver-streaked green. The blue of happiness hasn't been seen in them for a long time. Her face is expressionless, the downward curved mouth appearing to have forgotten how to smile. She would have a thousand-yard stare except for the way her shuttered eyes scan her surrounding like a laser targeting system marking threats.
Tatsuki has many scars. Most have faded or been reduced to unnoticeable, but two are more prominent, sets of four claw marks left by her tigress zanpakutou spirit during her shikai awakening. One runs from her right hip down the outside of her thigh to her knee. The other starts in the middle of her face, brackets her left eye and lips, and ends slightly in front of her ear. 4th Division's ministrations reduced the size of the scars to fine yet ragged lines of silver-white in her copper skin, a permanent warpaint of frost.
She wears a shihakushou with no trace of white anywhere and an inner bib that covers her chest to the neck. Instead of tabi and waraji, she wears tall, black leather moccasins with the lower legs of her hakama tailored down to fit beneath the uppers. Black, pierced leather appliques of a dragon and a tiger adorn the fronts. The fasteners down the sides are blackened silver conchos holding hematite stones. She made them by hand, right down to the silverwork, and arrived in Soul Society wearing them. Even though they've been hacked to pieces and burned several times, they always return within a few days, good as new. Since coming to Soul Society, the moccasins gained tabi toes.
Her senses are unusually acute. When alive, she had 20/10 vision with ~210 degree peripheral angle, and night vision enough to read by the light of a half-moon. Hearing range of 12Hz-22KHz from -10Db, and similar acuity in other senses. Part of how she relates to others is their individual scent. She has always been able to sense reiatsu, even when alive, although she couldn't actually see spirit beings. During the years she spent being hunted in the wilds of Soul Society, her reiatsu sense became as keen as the rest.
Tatsuki's reiatsu is habitually held to no more than a faint trace, even when she is not actively suppressing it, and might be mistaken for that of a Plus. She must consciously choose to show more.
Personality Tatsuki was once an enthusiastic geek with eclectic interests and artistic talents, and empathetic behavior. After years in Soul Society, most of that is now nearly gone. She was attacked by Rukongai villagers; hunted by Shinigami when she fled to the outer wilds. Those who were supposedly her comrades and superiors abandoned or betrayed her. Each time she began to think of someone as a friend, the person betrayed her, died, or simply disappeared. All around her, people have been corrupt, callous and sadistic to each other and to those they were supposed to defend. She has been shown that she is nothing to anyone. To care about nothing, feel nothing and eventually fade away to nothing is the only way she sees to make the pain stop. It's as if Soul Society was actually Hell.
Tatsuki always had a berserker side. The more afraid, angry, threatened or injured she becomes, the more this rises to the surface. Her reactions become almost spinal-reflex quickness, her strength is used with less regard for the damage it might do to her, and her civilized inhibitions erode until she sees any opponent as only an enemy to be destroyed. When she was being hunted like an animal, it served her in good stead. Once she awakened her zanpakutou, it became a hindrance and she worked to control it. With her current goal to become uncaring about anything, it is unknown what it would take to awaken it. In full animal mode, "Tatsuki" is gone, and she retains no memory of what happened while she was in that state. The beast that remains does not speak, only snarls, growls and roars. If frightened enough or totally over-matched, the animal will run away if it can, but it is mainly a berserker -- calculating, vicious and cruel, willing to do anything to leave its enemy dead. It will fight past the point of sanity. Only crippling injuries will slow it down, as pain simply fuels its hate and rage. Even then, it would be more likely to drive the sharp end of a compound fracture into its enemy's eye or throat than stop
Her ancestry is mixed-blood Native American. Amid several memories of her mother, she has only one of her father -- a sandy-haired man changing her diaper. She remembers her grandfather making a single reference to her father, that his bunch would destroy the world if they got their way, so she figures he was some sort of extremist. Her grandfather was a shaman. He refused to teach her anything except legend stories, so she studied magic and mysticism on her own.
She does not remember her real name. Her only unbroken memories from the Living World are of her murder and its aftermath. While stationed on a Navy ship based in Yokosuka, Japan, she attended a kendo school and became friends with a Japanese woman. One evening they were walking to the friend's house for supper, with the friend teasing Tatsuki about seeing ghosts and she protesting that she didn't see them, she just got a feeling about certain places. Taking a shortcut along a secluded path, they came upon a murder scene. Four men had stabbed another, probably over a wrapped bundle that one man held. Her friend addressed one by name. The four attacked the women to silence them. During the fight, Tatsuki was stabbed from behind and went into animal mode.
When she came out of it, she was somewhere else and had a long chain attached to the middle of her chest. She started to follow it back. It broke off, leaving a short length attached to her. The rest began to disintegrate. She ran back the way it had led and eventually found the path.
There she found the bodies of herself, her friend, two of their attackers and their first victim. Another was still there, alive, hiding the bundle under a pile of trash and old boards. Tatsuki had sworn her life to defend, but hadn't been able to protect her friend or even herself. Rage built at those who had taken their lives. The bundle remained; she would remain. The guilty would return for it and she would have them.
She became a demi-hollow bound to the bundle. Time passed and her soul chain intermittently eroded. Finally, one of the men returned to retrieve the bundle.
She snarled with hate and satisfaction, snatched a loop of chain into her hand and wrapped it around his neck to throttle him. It passed through. He started and shivered, looked around, then went back to digging at the pile. She howled in rage.
Folding her hand into a leopard fist, she drove it down at the back of his neck. Again, it passed through, and some spark of sentience still inside knew she had to become more "real." There was substance in the air, scattered and slippery, but she drew it in, focusing it on the chains. They began to shimmer with a faint light.
The man worked the stick into the pile and levered part of it up and over. He grunted, then reached down and picked up the package, shaking off the detritus. After a careful glance around, he tucked it under his arm and started off down the path. With her, her hate, and her increasingly solid chains firmly attached.
The chain on her chest grew mouths on every link and began to chew.
This time, she was unable to escape the pain by vanishing into the animal which was trying to vanish into her. Her thrashing pulled the bundle from the man's hands. He snatched at it, caught it, yanked it toward him, his mouth gaping in shock as his eyes traced the glowing chains. Pain beyond the concept of sanity gained focus. A loop of chain whipped around his neck. Another. Madness pulled them tight. Vengeance too long delayed ripped substance from the air, layered it onto the chains, onto herself, so he could see the form of his death.
Reality tore. A white-faced beetle-spider monster stepped through. It stabbed the struggling man through the heart, turning Tatsuki's rage on itself for stealing her prey. She barely dodged its attack on her, but its stabbing leg caught the chain and ripped it out.
Pain brought her to her knees. She felt her self dissolving, being sucked down into an endless abyss of emptiness through the hole in her chest. The monster stalked forward. Snickering.
Rage and hate again found focus. She tangled the monster's legs with the chains that bound her to the bundle and brought it crashing to its side. After leaping to its back, she tried to strangle it with the chains, fighting against dissolution. It felt as if the monster's white face was crawling over hers, suffocating her. She pulled the chains tighter and buried her fangs in the back of its neck, trying to gnaw through its too-human spine.
The monster disappeared into black dust.
Blinding light washed her away.
She came out of it in quiet woodlands, trembling, hurting all over. The hole in her chest! She pulled open the kimono and looked. Felt. She couldn't find it. Couldn't find it! She felt all over. No hole. Spun and looked. No monster. Stood still, trying to still her shaking, quiet her panting breath, to listen. The hole! She couldn't find it. My chains! She couldn't find them. Her hands flew to her face, felt. Grabbed her hair and pulled it forward. No white. Felt again. Found only skin, eyebrows, her normal face. The hole! It wasn't there.
She clutched the edges of the kimono, the knuckles of her fists digging into the solid bone of her chest. No hole. One hand rose and rubbed searchingly over her face as she turned, looking. Just normal woods. No monster.
She wondered why she was in a kimono. But she was wearing her moccasins ... Where are my clothes? Everything felt strange, as if energy lay within fallen twig and leaf around her, the air itself rich with it. As if she'd been living in vacuum until now. Where am I?
Baring her teeth at the stench of nearby people, she moved away, the ache of bruises and sting of scrapes fresh on her body, a different ache of frightened confusion shivering beneath.
Days turned into weeks. Days and weeks of hunger and thirst, trying to find water that wasn't foul, too many close calls trying to get food that people didn't seem to have. She tried to forage in the woods. Trial and error left her sick more often than not. Eventually, she found a few things that she could eat. She also learned that the mushrooms young men gathered left her hallucinating and depressed.
As if she needed anything more to do that. The moment she realized that she couldn't remember her own name, she had dropped where she stood. Then came the downward slide as she searched for memories and found so much else missing. Her friend's name ... even her face was gone; so was her voice. She couldn't even remember the name of the ship she'd been assigned to. Where did I live? Who's my family? A mother, nameless. A grandfather. Again, faceless, but with a voice that refused to teach her, no matter how she begged. A nameless mountain with everything around it blank. So many blanks. A few tattered bits from a lost puzzle, as painfully shocking and sharp as hidden slivers of glass missed by a monstrous broom. She came out of it curled up on the ground and shivering in the dark, her face stiff with dried tears, her chest bruised and bloody where she'd been grinding her knuckles into the breastbone with no hole. Aching and exhausted, she didn't want to sleep. Even worse waited there.
Every night, her sleep was wracked by nightmares of the bug-faced monster, the hole in her chest sucking her down. The faceless woman she knew was her friend standing blue-skinned and bloody before her, voicelessly asking why she had died instead of being defended. Now joined by others. Faces without voices or names. Voices without faces. Places without names or place. Shattered-mirror flashes floating in the blackness of the hole in her chest sucking down. Every night, she woke screaming.
Then one night, the scream was answered. By an empty, echoing howl.
No more could she forage in peace, looking out only for the people that acted worse than animals. Time after time, a white-faced monster came after her. Night after night, she had to tie herself in a tree just to wake up screaming. To hear that empty howl answering, see that skull-like white face floating in the darkness below, its yellow eyes like frozen fireflies.
The monster felt like some of those places she used to walk around, drawing in on herself with her "I'm not here, you don't see me" trick. Didn't help when the monster was staring straight at her, but she found herself doing it, anyway. The monster kept her in a tree for three days. Staring. Sometimes letting loose with that echoing howl of emptiness that brought her hand up to clutch the kimono and dig her knuckles into her chest where an empty hole had been. Kept staring at her until she wondered if the dead could die of hunger and thirst.
Then it left. She stayed in the tree for another day. Listening to the emptiness. Being not-there.
Then kicked herself and stopped sniveling.
She and her friend had died, outnumbered two-to-one by men. They had taken two with them. Not so bad, going against knives. A knife. And a water container. Rope. A list formed in her mind as she made her way back toward where people lived. Resided. Haunted? She'd need to learn how to move along the trees rather than under them. Then worried that monsters came in tree-climbing versions. She concentrated on being not-there.
Several days and two fights later, she had found a number of useful items. Including what seemed to be a fairly good knife, surprisingly. Or not -- a scumbag mugger would need a good knife.
She went back to the section of forest she'd been staying in and started setting traps.
Two days later, she found out they didn't work on white-faced monsters. This one had a face like some five-year-old's drawing of a skull. It broke every trap she led it into. It climbed trees. It chased her all the way back to the skeezy village where the mugger had lived. She ran through -- dodging two more muggers or worse -- and into the forest on the other side, trying to ignore the screams. They just added another layer to her nightmares.
It became a pattern. Try new traps, have them smashed, lead the monster to nasty places with nastier people. Sometimes see them eaten. Live with the nightmares.
Then one trap worked. This monster's face looked like a dog's skull. Its yellow eyes glared at her from under the deadfall of large rocks. With its legs splayed out all around it, it couldn't seem to get the leverage to do anything. And she was hungry.
This thing ate people. Like a bear or a shark. People ate bears and sharks. It had a hole through the middle of it. She kept her hand down. A bear or a shark. It had a dog skull. Some cultures ate dogs. And she was so damned hungry. Choosing the leg that moved the least, she squatted down to cut off a piece.
It wouldn't cut. The knife was sharp; she kept it that way. But the monster's skin wouldn't cut.
Empty, echoing howl. Not from under the deadfall, but behind it.
She ran. Behind her, she heard a howling scream. Another monster was eating the one she'd trapped, tearing out mouthful after mouthful. Dogskulls's eyes focused on her, narrow with pain and hate.
Then the other monster jerked up its bloody, fanged face and looked to the side. It turned, kicked dirt over the trapped one like a dog over its fresh crap, and galloped off into the trees. Something was there. It didn't feel the same as the monsters, but nothing here had done anything except attack her. I'm not here; you don't see me
The smell of blood from the trapped monster made her stomach. The other monster and the whatever were out of sight. She sprinted back to the trapped one. Knelt down and bit. She couldn't bite it, but the taste of fresh, hot blood filled her mouth. She lapped and swallowed. Hunger gnawed at her as she gnawed at the monster that screamed at her with rage and hate.
She tried to make her teeth more there and finally worried off a small piece. Couldn't chew it. Swallowed it whole. Hole Fought down a heave of her stomach and bit again. So hungry!
"You!" What are you doing?!"
She sprang backwards on all fours, snarling, shocked and angry that she'd gotten lost in the taste. A man stood several yards away, glaring at her. Black, Japanese-ish clothing. Wide-eyed outrage. Pursed, sour mouth. His hand on a sword hilt. A sword?! When am I? He had the same feel as whatever the fanged monster had changed to meet.
She reached up to wipe the blood from her mouth and the man's thumb against the tsuba pushed the sword slightly forward in its scabbard. From her kendo classes, she knew this was the same threat as drawing the sword fully. Her teeth bared again and all thought of answering disappeared.
"Whatever you are," the man said gratingly, "you will not escape." He disappeared, and she felt him behind her. She dove forward in a roll alongside the trapped monster and heard the singing whiff of a blade cutting the air. The monster glared and snapped at her as she rolled past.
Everywhere she went, he was there as if he had teleported. It was all she could do to not get chopped to bits. Not that she was going untouched. That damned sword was like a razor. The monster snapped at the man's leg and he split its head with one stroke of the sword. Seeing the monster dissolve into black dust brought a flashback of the one she'd fought with her chains
Only reflex saved her from the next attack. The blade seemed to barely caress her jaw, yet opened it to the bone. Blood poured down her neck. Better than her throat being opened, as the cut appeared to have been aimed. She jumped backwards and felt her gritted teeth flash into the animal's fanged grin. The bastard shook the blood off his sword and smirked. Actually smirked.
Now I'm in a cheesy chanbarra flick. In the military, she had quickly learned the difference between the truly dangerous types and the bullying wannabes. This sick jerkwad was the latter. But he was armed and she was, effectively, not. Given the similar/dissimilar feel between him and the monsters, her knife probably wouldn't cut him, either.
Worse, she could feel the fanged monster coming back. Or one with the same feel. When this psycho showed up, she'd figured he had killed it. But maybe what she had thought was predatory glee when it ran off had been the exuberance of a hunting dog running to greet its master. That would explain why she'd been playing duck-and-dodge with the damned things lately, and why he would be pissed that he'd caught her trying to eat one.
:: You can't avoid fights with enemies who outmatch you, forever, :: the tigress replied. :: Stop being such a coward. ::
:: The power is for your protection, :: the dragon chimed in.
Is it, really? Her thoughts turned darker, as they had done more frequently in recent times. Or is it the peak of my possible power, and that's when the real fun begins. With the giant monsters with giant swords who crush all that I am into dust.
:: Tatsuki.... :: The dragon sighed. :: This isn't Hell. :: His voice sounded plaintive and tired, nearly hopeless.
Prove it. Silence followed, as it had several times before, and Tatsuki walked on in the unending night.
When the attack came, the first indication was a stampede of Hollows. For she didn't know how long after that, Tatsuki ambushed Quincy alone and alongside Hollows. Nothing new, there. She had no idea how many years she'd fought alongside Hollows out in the wilds. Nor was it too surprising when some of the Hollows attacked her, afterwards. They were Hollows, after all, driven by their instincts.
But the one with the inkblot face hurt more than her left shoulder when its teeth closed on her. She had known it for years, all the way back when she had to survive in the wilds. Then, it had skulked along in the bushes just within sight. Its face among the leaves and tree trunks had brought a memory, small beings with similar faces that sat on branches and tilted their heads, popping them back up with a shake and rattle. Then those beings falling like snowflakes in a wash of sadness. She had named it Bobblehead. Like a jackal, it had followed to feast on her leavings. Unlike a jackal, it had appeared to resist the temptation to eat her even when she was injured. She had thought it killed by the agent who had come to clean up the Hollow problem, along with so many others.
It had appeared again when she went walkabout in Hueco Mundo, skulking along just behind dunes as she walked the moonlit sands. It had never spoken, but seemed to understand when she spoke to it. Why it had chosen to attack her after the Quincy were dead, she would never know. With blood running from the bite on her shoulder and the wounds she'd suffered during the battle, she stared into its golden eyes with her sword buried to the hilt in its mask.
"Why?" she asked it. "I thought you were smarter than that." No answer, not that she had expected one. Its eyes closed peacefully as its body disintegrated. Had it finally given in to its instincts? Or chosen her as the instrument of its suicide. She would never know. But it had taken a piece of what remained of her heart with it.
She finally found a working garganta and made her way back to Soul Society. As she headed inward, through areas that seemed normal and others that were scars of devastation, she found two Quincy in Rukongai. They were doing what Quincy had done every time she had seen them near Plusses, slaughtering them for sport and laughing about it. The more cruel the death, the more they laughed.
She drew her zanpakutou and stalked them, waiting her chance. Her swordsmanship was laughable in combat, but sufficient to take off a head, in the right circumstances. Any warning, and that weird circuitry-looking stuff would pop up in their skin and stop the attack cold. Having seen others of their kind control their own injured bodies like marionettes, taking one's head off was the only solution. That, she had never seen one come back from. This one didn't, either.
The other was alerted when his partner didn't reply to his call from around a corner. Tatsuki took more injuries before she put him down. Those damned arrows.
Plusses crept back out from their hiding places as she continued on. Tired and covered with wounds and blood, her clothing in rags, perhaps she looked like an easy mark. Five ill-favored men approached in a classic encirclement formation. One commented on what a nice sword she had. Another made cruder remarks about his own "sword," saying he might even be turned on by the blood. Seconds later, they were bleeding out in the street. She walked on, wondering why she had bothered to stop the Quincy.
Once she got back into what was left of Seireitei, the invasion appeared to be mostly over. A woman's cries caught her attention. Drawing her zanpakutou, she approached a half-wrecked building. The cries became clearer, and Tatsuki circled to look in through the kicked-in door, already sure of what she would find.
The scene clearly fit the military definition of "complete breakdown of good order and discipline." One rape victim on the floor. The torn remnants of her fancy clothing screamed 'nobility.' One current rapitst. Five others watching, some with their pants down. Bundles and bags that looked like high-quality goods, necklaces and rings on the men. Rapists and looters. And not too far away, the signature reiatsu of Quincy attacking something.
Tatsuki quietly called through the doorway, "Some things take a special kind of stupid. Get your pants up and your weapons out, if you don't want to die."
One man who had his pants up drew his sword and charged her, yelling "Here's another one!" Charged her with the blade raised high over his head, his body wide open. She stepped forward, her right hand pulling the scabbard from her belt to intercept the downward swing and her left laying the reverse-gripped blade across his belly just beneath his ribs. The force of his swing drove her down, her blade opening him from ribs to pelvis like the seat flap on old-time long johns. She stepped to the side, letting his sword slide down her scabbard. He fell to his knees. His sword clattered to the ground as his hands scrabbled at his guts, his mouth working like a fish out of water. At least he was being quiet.
Tatsuki looked at the others, letting the blood and intestinal matter drip from her blade and arm, ignoring the stench. She'd smelled far worse. "Anyone else want to play, or are you going to act like soldiers? Enemies are nearby." They stood gaping at her. All except the current rapist, who just then seemed to realize that something was going on.
"Kill them!" the woman screamed. "Kill them now!"
"Be quiet or you're going to die, too." Tatsuki tried to judge where the Quincy might be now. The current rapist had brains enough to back away and start pulling up his pants. The others shifted uncertainly, some fingering their zanpakutou, others gathering loot.
The woman pushed herself up to a half-sitting position and pulled the tatters of her clothing over herself. "How dare you speak to me that way, you commoner! My father will have you executed!" Her haughty and outraged gaze raked the men. "Along with all of you! Bodyguards...!" She spat toward them.
Tatsuki's expression blanked. Her head and eyes turned mechanically toward the idiot bitch on the floor. "And some things take a truly extraordinary kind of stupid." Her sigh was half a snort as she turned away. "As you were, men. Take out the trash when you're done ... if it's still breathing by then."
:: Tatsuki... :: The dragon's shocked whisper was scarcely audible. From the tigress came only a complicated feeling that blamed and did not at the same time.
Making her way behind a building catty-cornered to the one where the gang of morons were, she could hear the woman screamed threats and insults, and the men arguing what to do with her. Tatsuki climbed onto the roof and waited, all senses alert for enemy presence. Voices sounded in the street. It seemed a few of the men had come outside. A meaty whap and the woman's voice cut off. The sound of something being dragged came soon after.
Too late. A contemptuous quip about "zombies," blue flashes, and the distinct reiatsu feel of Quincy arrows presaged screams. Tatsuki vaulted silently off the roof and took the head of one of the three smirking attackers.
The user channels reiatsu to the bottoms of her feet, grabs reishi from the immediate area, and expels it explosively to create a brief, short-range movement (not more than 5 meters). The effect is nearly instantaneous, allowing the user to dodge otherwise undodgeable attacks or situations. (Cost: as level 10 kidou)
Way of the Fist
Tortoise Style: This one had been pending a couple of times but kept getting lost.
Fist Technique 1: Wisdom of the Tortoise
Description: A gestalt of sensory input -- air currents, gradients of temperature, light, shadow, scents, how sound travels -- provides a spherical awareness zone. Range will vary depending on environment and available sensory input. With reiatsu actively extended, movements through it, or the user's movements, create a parallax "view" of the general shape and location of objects in the area.
Fist Technique 2: Tiger Climbs the Tree
Description: A fast series of three kicks aimed at the groin, solar plexus and throat (or other vital areas as may be apparent on non-humanoids). The speed at which they are delivered and the rapidly changing targets makes the technique harder to block or evade.
Fist Technique 3: Phoenix Claw
Description: On a successful one-handed attack, can be used to damage the opponent’s vital nerve points, causing intense pain and loss of control to the area, and/or to separate muscle from bone and connective tissue.
Fist Technique 4: Bark Stripping
Description: Upon landing a one- or two-handed grab on an opponent's extremity, the user applies a twisting motion along its length to tear muscles and break bones. A two-handed grip doubles the damage potential. The damage done is proportional to the relative Strength of the combatants. At its worst, the technique could leave the extremity utterly mangled and hanging by a few shreds of flesh.
Fist Technique 5: Saggy Bag
Description: A series of six rapid and powerful strikes, using forearms to the front or elbows to the rear, intended to shatter the bones in the target's torso and arms.
Weapons material can damage spiritual beings
Armor material can, to a reasonable extent, withstand blows from zanpakutou, effects of kidou, cero, etc..
Spyderco FB25PSBBK Warrior Combat Knife 5-11/16" H1 Black Plain and Serrated Blade
- Sheath mount and straps for thigh carry under hakama
Solingen Eickhorn KM 4000
- Sheath mount and straps for thigh carry under hakama
- Sets of 4, 9" long, made to fit into sleeves beneath overlapping edges of moccassins
- Sets of 6 in diagonally stacked sheaths worn on left and right back beneath sash
- Made of saw wire with cutting wrap of triangular wire sharp enough to give cutting ability against hierro.
- Narrow split sheaths fit inside each sleeve along seam
Flash and smoke bombs
- About the size of a large marble
- Can be set for impact, timed, or reiatsu detonation; inert until set
- Flash can blind for up to a minute
- Smoke can densely cover 6m diameter sphere
- Sets of 3 in hazard-hardened belt cases worn on right and left front under sash.
- Hidden layer of plates and mail
- Leather treatment to guard against environmental/combat hazards
- Matte black
- Over-elbow length with hidden layer of plates and mail
- Hand, knuckle and upper finger protection similar to fingerless tactical gloves
- Leather treatment to guard against environmental/combat hazards
- Look padded, but not armored, per se
Powers & Abilities
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▌ Captain Level
Hakuda Master: Tatsuki's skills are great enough to force some of the greatest melee fighters at their peak to fight seriously during combat. She has proven to be quite aggressive as well as highly proficient in hand-to-hand combat. She demonstrates her skill and agility in this area by launching devastating attacks without laying a finger on her Zanpakutō. Facing armed opponents is no problem whatsoever for her, as her skills make her every limb a lethal weapon by itself.
Genius Intellect: Arguably, the most fearsome trait of Tatsuki Ginshitora is her tremendous intellect. She is well-versed in the history and proceedings of the world and is privy to knowledge unknown to many, such as secret methods. She easily grabs the concepts of subjects completely new to her and masters them quickly. Even in the most complex and dangerous of situations Tatsuki can rely on her calculating intellect to figure out the best course of action. Her assessment of a situation is swift, ad-hoc and accurate, allowing her to deduce the nature of other people’s abilities and countering them, often only requiring a few instances of observation.
Keen Tactician: She has shown herself to be a flexible tactician, capable of adjusting difficult combat situation, if not planning out steps well in advance. She understands the strengths, weaknesses and mannerisms of her enemies, and creates strategies to achieve victory; this includes preparing traps or leading her enemies along battle plans. Like this she can prepare victory in advance and even exploit her enemies’ weaknesses for her grand scheme. Regardless of her own powers or those of others, she always remains vigilant.
Gifted Scientist: Tatsuki is a gifted inventor and scientist, having created a number of clever devices and techniques to aid her in battle or otherwise. Her intellect in this field is evident, as she is able to create and invent devices on her own and further sophisticated research. She is an asset to any development bureau as her work can help accomplish the developmental goals. She knows chemistry, being able to work with chemical formulas and combined them to make new ones. She can also repair advanced machines, sometimes needing to improvise on materials.
Great Reiatsu: Tatsuki has a great amount of Spiritual Power which is considered to be Captain Class. Her Reiatsu is a formidable weapon, striking fear in those lower than herself. She can easily mainfest her Reiatsu to some extent and have it affect the people around her mentally. She can maintain a high level of control over her Reiatsu, using it as she sees fit, but falling short of those who boast Vast or Immense Reiatsu.
Enhanced Strength: As a fighter with considerable physical conditioning, Tatsuki has shown sufficient strength to partly block powerful attacks and cope with strong strikes better. Her attacks also hold a great deal more potency behind them, easily enough to launch other people of the ground and through objects in the way.
Great Endurance: Tatsuki has incredible physical stamina, allowing her to endure the hardships of battle for a great length of time without slowing down. Only when utilizing constant high speed movement for an extended amount of time will she start showing signs of fatigue. Even with several wounds she can keep on fighting without significant physical hindrance.
Great Speed: Tatsuki has demonstrated great speed and keen reflexes in battle. Even when caught by surprise from an enemy's attack, she can react in time to skillfully dodge or counter the assault. Offensively, she can keep up a quick and rapid assault which forces most opponents on the defense, as she leaves no openings in his attacks.
Great Durability: Tatsuki's body has received significant battle-conditioning and can take great amounts of punishment. She can take frequent unarmed attacks from weaker individuals on her body and come out unscathed, or with little consequence if not laugh about it instead.
Hohō Expert: Tatsuki excels in Shunpo. Though not particularly versed in its various techniques, she is proficient enough in the technique itself to keep up with and even surprise high-level Shinigami with her speed. She can even keep up with those of master level for an indeterminate amount of time. She is also very quick at close-range, being able to perceive and dodge swift sneak attacks and come out unscathed.
Zanjutsu Untrained: She has received zero training in the way of the sword. Though Tatsuki can hold a blade and swing it on instinct, she can’t be expected to accomplish much in doing so. She at least knows to keep the sharp end of her blade forward.
Kidō Expert: Tatsuki excels at Kidō, being able to cast powerful spells up to #79, while not requiring a full incantation up to #63. She can use multiple spells in conjunction with each other, creating a unique way in which to attack and incapacitate her opponents. In this way, she can make common spells all her own. She can use a single Kidō technique on two separate targets at once. She can use high-level Kidō in rapid succession without incantations and still retain considerable control and power. She has great skill in using various spells in unique combination, even using multiple spells at the same time. However, she requires incantations when using high-level spells simultaneously.