JessieJames
Dream as if you were dying.
Wind whistled through the bars that covered the upper windows of the once abandoned warehouse that had been refurbished to become a hive of scum and villainy. The warmth of the midsummer day was just starting to fade with the setting sun that hung in the far western sky painting the heavens in it fiery glow. Fading golden rays danced over the mask that sat on the large desk before a young teenager with long ivory hair. In this lighting the pale strands appeared orange in nature. His eyes stared not out at the setting sun but at the mask. Horns protruded from the temple and extended forward with slight angling towards the center.
Long black lines ran down the center over the eyes from crown to chin. The empty sockets glared back into the eyes of the boy who had just won it. He had already heard the whispers from the men whom he now lead about him being a demon of the greatest order not just for beating the previous leader of the street gang Hollows but for his very inhuman eyes. From black pools golden irises stared out at the world from a fairly colorless body.
Black cargo pant hung off his slender hips. Sitting bare chested in the heart of his domain Shirosaki Kuro thought about what he would have his men do from this day forward. Painted black nails of one his hand reached up to trail over the tattoo he had gotten a month or two ago. A chain encircled crown over his heart. Sitting up he reached for the mask remembering the event of gaining it like it was yesterday.
Minato Hasa had thought himself forever undefeated and his gang unbreakable. The boss had ordered Shirosaki to murder one of the other men simply for the fact of him disobeying an order to steal food he had plenty of money to buy for instead. Minato was known for being a ruthless sort and often went too far in the eyes of many when it came to getting what he wanted. Shiro had refused only to have Minato attack him outright. The much younger male had won breaking the old boss’ neck as if he truly felt nothing about taking a life. So at the age of 16 Shirosaki rose from being a lackey to being the crowned king of the Hollows.
Shirosaki envisioned his gang to take after the morals they were raised on and if they hadn’t been they would learn from him. He gained both his nicknames in that one night. Blanco Diablo for being so merciless in his killing of the previous head and for his moral values Chained King. Yes even in his mind he knew both name fitted him like tailored gloves. His attention was drawn from his memories and to the present at the shouts of men from the lower floor of the warehouse. Standing he made his way to the railing to look down, “What’s all this about?”
His voice carried without effort on his part causing most of his men to turn and look at him. Except his second in command. Wild blue hair unmistakable from any distance. Grimm Black was a man Shirosaki knew he could trust no matter what. His gaze moved from the tall half American-Japanese to the woman who stood not far inside the entrance to the warehouse.
Long black lines ran down the center over the eyes from crown to chin. The empty sockets glared back into the eyes of the boy who had just won it. He had already heard the whispers from the men whom he now lead about him being a demon of the greatest order not just for beating the previous leader of the street gang Hollows but for his very inhuman eyes. From black pools golden irises stared out at the world from a fairly colorless body.
Black cargo pant hung off his slender hips. Sitting bare chested in the heart of his domain Shirosaki Kuro thought about what he would have his men do from this day forward. Painted black nails of one his hand reached up to trail over the tattoo he had gotten a month or two ago. A chain encircled crown over his heart. Sitting up he reached for the mask remembering the event of gaining it like it was yesterday.
Minato Hasa had thought himself forever undefeated and his gang unbreakable. The boss had ordered Shirosaki to murder one of the other men simply for the fact of him disobeying an order to steal food he had plenty of money to buy for instead. Minato was known for being a ruthless sort and often went too far in the eyes of many when it came to getting what he wanted. Shiro had refused only to have Minato attack him outright. The much younger male had won breaking the old boss’ neck as if he truly felt nothing about taking a life. So at the age of 16 Shirosaki rose from being a lackey to being the crowned king of the Hollows.
Shirosaki envisioned his gang to take after the morals they were raised on and if they hadn’t been they would learn from him. He gained both his nicknames in that one night. Blanco Diablo for being so merciless in his killing of the previous head and for his moral values Chained King. Yes even in his mind he knew both name fitted him like tailored gloves. His attention was drawn from his memories and to the present at the shouts of men from the lower floor of the warehouse. Standing he made his way to the railing to look down, “What’s all this about?”
His voice carried without effort on his part causing most of his men to turn and look at him. Except his second in command. Wild blue hair unmistakable from any distance. Grimm Black was a man Shirosaki knew he could trust no matter what. His gaze moved from the tall half American-Japanese to the woman who stood not far inside the entrance to the warehouse.