Valintine Montega

Valintine was born into a life of luxury. At least for being born into the streets of Europe. Raised by people less than a family. It was more like a band of men, women and children who all had one thing in common. They could move. Because they could move, they could steal. Because they could steal, they could live. And because they could live they would never be accepted. Valintine was no exception to this, but he was above most. His talents were recognized from a young age. He could lie, cheat, steal, and run. He was a quick thinker allowing him to slip in and out of a building with little to no hesitation. He could find routes where few could. Valintine was a thief.

By age ten he could sneak into a building with out any problems. Or at least that's what the rumor said. Truth was Valintine always had problems. He doubted himself and that led to issues. So how was his secret kept? He killed anyone and everyone inside the building who may have heard him, saw him, or just knew he was there. Through this his hand-to-hand combat skills became deadly. It wasn't long before he began to become curious about other forms of combat. This curiosity would lead him to a man who would break him out of his life of torment and theft.

He had stole away into the building late at night. He was rather silent about it too, which was odd for him. He rarely was. Not because he was clumsy or anything, but because he didn't believe in his own abilities. But tonight his mind was too distracted to care about that. He checked each room silently and cautiously. He checked his back always, and still he never found a soul. This was incredibly odd for him. Someone was always in a house. At least when the time was two in the morning. He couldn't help but feel happy as he felt that this was going to be an easy robbery. The was until he got shot in the arm with an arrow.

He woke up in a rat infested cell somewhere underground. He knew it wasn't a prison, for there would have been guards. He only remembered the pain of getting shot, not passing out. It wasn't long after he awoke that a man entered the room. The man offered Valintine a deal. "Work for me, or I can turn you in." Valintine chose to work for him.

The man wasn't that bad, he worked as a tailor making clothes for nobles and workers alike. He called himself an equal opportunist. Valintine didn't care though. As long as he wasn't in prison. He worked with this man for a few years before he asked him how he learned to shoot with a bow and arrow. The man merely replied that knowledge is power, and if he told him that then he'd have that much more power over him.

With that kind of answer, Valintine saw fit to find his own way in the world and used the money he had to hire people to teach him to fight, stay alive, to kill. It isn't that hard to find people when you have money and killers running about. By this time he was sixteen, and when he was eighteen, he killed the man who showed him kindness by not turning him in. Valintine hated him inside. He always did. And everyday he wasn't in jail was a day he hated him more than the last. He didn't want to be in jail, but he didn't want pity either. How did the man die? An arrow to the neck.

At age twenty, Valintine met his own end. The man had a family. When the family heard about this death and the disappearance of Valintine, they put two and two together. Valintine didn't regret his death. He welcomed it with open arms. He wanted to die, to pay for his sins. His only wish before the trigger was pulled was that he be buried next to a riverside. He was burned and his ashes scattered at a cross road...

Afterlife:

Valintine was furious when he realized he wasn't truly dead, only a spirit now. He hated this, and he hated life. He wanted to just die. He didn't want to breath, to live, to speak, to walk. He hated everything about living. He hated seeing the smiles on people's faces. He hated hearing their moans of passion as he walked by houses with people having sex near an open window. He hated everything. He just wanted to die. Was that so much to ask for? Yes it was. The Fates had plans for him, plans that he neither asked for, nor wanted.

It was some time before his Chain of Fate painfully ate itself. He enjoyed the pain though. He thought he was finally free, he was wrong again. He became a grotesque creature that had constant hunger. But as bad as that was, the hunger increased when he became a Gillian. Between the transformation times, he learned of Shinigami and even killed a few. He learned how to defend himself and fire a cero. He learned that he was now a Hollow. An assumed creature of evil and darkness. He laughed at that last part. The first laugh he had ever given in years.

His life as a Gillian showed him the meaning of struggle and hardship. He wanted to eat and eat and eat. He was clearly more sane than the vast majority of the Gillian, but that didn't save him from his hunger. He hate souls, but they weren't good enough. They didn't fill him. So he ate other Gillian. But even they failed him at times. He just wanted to be full for once in his life. He wanted to eat and never worry about being hungry. Was he truly sane? Or was he so far in insanity that he felt sane?

He was a Gillians for onwards of one hundred years before he finally became an Adjucha. And this is where his life took a turn for the better. He still wished for death, but he could do nothing of it, so it didn't matter. From here, however, he met a strange and, in his eyes, obnoxiously powerful man. He called himself Marin. Marin told him that if he wished for a death worthy of his true power than he needed to follow him. Otherwise, he could exist in this wasteland of a world and never see a death that he deserved. Valintine was hesitant. He didn't enjoy following others, he was more content with being a leader or not being in a group. It wasn't an ego thing, or a superiority complex, he just didn't like orders. Reluctantly he agreed though. A death a deserved? He was curious. Curiosity killed the cat in a sense...

Adjucha Life: Marin told him that he would find him one hundred years from now, what's one hundred years when you're virtually ageless, if he was still alive, regardless of form, then he would take him under his wing. Valintine bowed, or at least as well as he could as his Adjucha state resembled some form of feline, and Marin vanished. Valintien rose to all fours and set off to begin getting stronger. He wouldn't fail. He would rise to the top.

He roamed the Quartz Forest for a while, before he set out to tackle to White Sands. He encountered many people there, some friends, some foes. With time the friends became foes, and he slew them without hesitation. Detachment from others made him a deadly thing. He didn't have personal feelings for anybody. Respect was something he rarely gave, and even then that wouldn't save you from death by his hand.

He killed time and time again, which only hardened his heart. He lost the ability to cry for a kill. He became more confidant in himself. He began to learn to separate emotions from battle. To run only on reason and purpose. He killed "children" or Hollows less than Gillian. He killed Gillian, and he killed Adjucha. He killed a few fatally Vasto Lordes before as well. Surprise attacks work wonders when the enemy doesn't think anything will attack let alone kill him. He was always aware of his surroundings and always ready to run. He became fast as well as deadly.

As promised Marin came back. One hundred years, and some odd number of kills, later, he showed up again. Pleased with Valintine's survival, he told him that he would be allowed to join Marin assuming he could handle the pressure. Valintine, confused and annoyed, asked what he meant. Marin showed him Las Noches. Valintine didn't get within two miles before his body buckled under the weight of the reiatsu spilling from the fortress. Marin told Valintine to return three hundred years later. If he could touch the wall, Marin would show him true power. With that, Marin delivered a single kick to Valintine that sent him a whiles away.

It took Valintine a few moments to heal from the wound, but heal he did. After that he began slaughtering Hollows in groups. He was furious and hurt. He worked so hard only to be rejected. He would not be denied his rightful power. He began using more human tactics to grow in strength. He would gather a band of Hollows together. Make a pact. And then in the midsts of night he would slay all of them. Bites to their neck to silence possible cries as well on feast on their strength.

Valintine did this for years and years, his own body changing as he did. He got faster, more durable, stronger, and better. Hollows talk too. They spoke of him, a green feline that stalked the sands of Hueco Mundo. They called him Biohazard because he was a hazard to all living things. Valintine took pride in this name. Still though, his words of power and promises of riches tempted Hollows into his night time killing spree.

As the years went on and Valintine got older and older, he noticed a change in himself. Adjuchas got weaker, or maybe he had finally gotten truly stronger. Not just better, but actually stronger. He felt himself able to effortlessly kill several Adjuchas with minimal effort. His reiatsu alone was enough to put a halt to minor Hollows, and some of the weaker Adjuchas. Gillian were too dumb to notice a threat in their midsts. Valintine bathed in this power everyday. He loved it as he loved the thought of death. Yes, even with all he has learned and this new power, he still longed for death. But now he wouldn't just roll over to any death. No, if he died, he died going all out.

Three hundred years later, and Valintine was still alive. He was at the top tier of Adjucha power, and had the killing spree and rumor to back it up. Marin, being King, had heard every word of Valintine's skill as a killer and stalker of night. Marin stood near the same section of the wall Valintine had been at when he first failed to obtain true power. Valintine walked to him slowly. He was tense, nervous, anxious. He could feel the pressure of the Hollows inside, but he refused to allow them to bother him. He had to stay focused. His body shook as he got closer and closer. His claws were digging into the ground, from the intense pressure. His tail flicked angrily, but he pushed forward. He neared the wall, and was not three feet away when his body fell and he was unable to move.

Marin shook his head. He saw promise and skill in Valintine. To strike such fear as he did into the hearts of Hollows was a skill Vasto Lordes and Arrancar possessed. Not mere Adjuchas. Marin offered him one more chance. One hundred years needed to pass before he could do this. That is all he got. If he could not touch the wall within one hundred years then he wouldn't ever see what he was truly capable of. Valintine growled lowly and struggled to get away from the cursed wall.

One hundred years passed quickly for the seemingly ancient Adjucha. He killed still, but less than previous years. He was nearing the tipping point into Vasto Lorde status. Much of his time was spent at the wall though, training his body to ignore the pressure and move on. He wouldn't be denied a third time. He would prove is worthiness and make it into the land of the Arrancar. When time was up, he did exactly that. He touched the wall, and clawed at it. He marked it with a V. Marin escorted Valintine into the halls of Las Noches, where power beyond his wildest dreams was bestowed upon him.