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Character Name: Kisuke Urahara
Age: Unknown, Pretty old (Old as Kukaku and the like)
What did your character do during the war, and in the years since?:
Urahara opposed Aizen Sousuke with every resource and shred of intellect he had. His reasons for helping were manifold- a vestigal sense of duty to the organization that had exiled him, an expatriate’s desire to protect his new home- but more than all that, a sense of responsibility. By creating the Hougyoku in pursuit of his own scientific achievement, he did not realize the genie he had let out until it had already been done. He was even willing to sacrifice Rukia’s shinigami powers to try and destroy it for good. When Aizen claimed the Hougyoku, his worst-case scenario came to pass.

During the war, he worked with Genryuusai and the rest of Soul Society. Both of them recognized the threat that Aizen presented- old disagreements were to be put aside. He assisted in the initial breach into Hueco Mundo, developing the method to stabilize the Garganta, training the spiritually sensitive of Karakura to protect the town, even contacting the Vizard to mobilize them against the threat of Aizen. When the final assault came, it wasn’t enough. His friends fell in battle, one after another, and Aizen’s plan came to fruition.

Karakura was consumed, corrupted, and the lost souls of the dead trapped inside, with a single living witness to it all.

Personality: Urahara is a multi-layered individual. His outer façade is a laid back joker, quick to mock-hide a smile behind a folding fan. Underneath that is a brilliant scientist and tactician, combined with a tenacious will that befits a former Shinigami captain. His enthusiasm from his youth has been tempered by his genius running face-first into the consequences of his actions. He doesn’t carry his guilt like a cross- simply as a reminder of what has transpired, and to not make the same mistakes again.
Urahara often takes the long view of things. He prefers to play behind the scenes- as a teacher or a facilitator, or even just a catalyst with a few well-placed words. He probably enjoys it a bit more than he should, but he never tries to manipulate someone for his benefit alone, nor would he truly leave anyone he’s taken under his wing out to dry.
His joker’s mask has cracked and peeled, having spent the last fifteen years scraping out his life with no company except deluded Zeroes and his Benihime. Still, he tries to keep up hope, trapped here in Karakura, where the clock has stopped. He’s gathered the little he has left, waiting for the day when that clock will start again, where he’ll get a one last chance to finish the fight. The possibility what keeps him going.

Which of their comrades (or their enemies!) would your character be most grieved to learn had died?: Yoruichi Shihouin was the only person Urahara let in past all of his masks. Theirs was a relationship built on the ability of both to perpetually surprise the other, drawing comfort from their ability to always push the other forward, clear of the past, to something new. He would have asked her to leave, before the end, if he thought she’d listen. Not having her around has been cruel- having to face her may be worse.
How did you arrive in Karakura Town?: Urahara never left. He’s been in Karakura ever since the disaster. He gathered his possessions into a Ramen cart, pushing his way through the torn and broken city streets, always moving on before the Zeroes begin to gather around his position. He’s long lost track of time, or of how many circuits he’s made of the ruined town. Something, however, is in the air- perhaps the beginning of something, perhaps the end.

Abilities: Urahara is an ex-shinigami Captain, and has the combat ability to match. He knows a great deal of kido, including his own custom techniques, as well as devices he’s invented for combat use. In addition, he has his zanpakutou, Benihime. In its unreleased state, he hides the blade in the hilt of a cane, which he carries at all times. Its awakening call is “Awaken(Okiro), Benihime!”
Releasing the blade changes it into a longer blade with a real handle and a red ribbon hanging off the end. By asking the blade to “Sing(Nake)”, he can create a broad shield of force capable of deflecting attacks, as well as emit Cero level blasts of energy.

Rumor has it that Urahara's Bankai is something called Last Aria. Evoking Benihime's full power, the surrounding area finds itself blocked in by a number of shields. Finally, raising Benihime over his head, the sword emits a massive wave of energy, indiscriminately targeting friends, foes, and the surrounding battlefield, leaving much of it in ruins. Using this drains Urahara to near-exhaustion, not to mention leaving a large crater behind.

Writing Samples:
Sample #1:
Urahara pushed onward through the thickening fog, feeling his fingers start to tingle and go numb, as if the mist were coating them. His pushcart rattled as he rolled on through the streets, wheels bouncing through the pothole sized gouges in the ground. He felt the telltale tingle on the back of his neck- his spiritual sense confirming his instinct that he was being watched. No time for a fight- he had to reach cover before things got any worse.
He leaned heavily on Benihime, ducking under the bar of the pushcart’s handle as he slowly made his way around to the side of the cart. “It’s a bit late, miss, I’m afraid we’re closed.” Urahara slowly reached past the hanging curtain on the cart, before pulling out a small, white candle on a delicate paper holder. Holding the candle out in his palm, he slowly slid an unremarkable metal lighter out from the sleeve of his haori. “I think there’s enough of you there to recognize what this is. Perhaps you should be going.”

Sample #2:
Urahara leaned over the front of the bar, neck craning upward to lift the brow of his hat. “The hospital, you say? And you were just in there?” The mannerisms were there, no doubt. It was the hairpin-girl, Orihime, was it? He’d never taken the risk of investigating the hospital- too many Zeroes, all the time, screaming for doctors or nurses or simply blood.
“But where are my manners!” He hurried around the cart, clearing away a small bit of counter and setting out a stool, dusting it off with the back of his hand. “Welcome to the Urahara shop, where we sell everything and anything there is to be found here.” He rapped twice on the metal barrel attached to the side of the cart, before filling a glass from the make-shift tap. The water was as cloudy as the glass, but still he slid it across the front counter, before moving back around and resting an elbow on his side. “Sit down. This one’s on the house. Tell me all about what happened- it may make you feel better.”