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Hero Development (HD)

Considered one of highest ranking 1-Star pairs in the Academy, they run personal errands for Lord Death.

0 · 399 views · located in Death City

a character in “Soul Eater: Resonance of the Soul”, as played by Conductor


The Following Content is Highly Confidential! (For use of Lord Death Only)

Hero Development (HD)

Hero Development is the Code Name given to an elite 1-star weapon/meister pair who receive their missions directly from Lord Death, often involving spec ops assignments to eliminate threats before they have a chance to show themselves to the students of the DWMA. This allows Lord Death to operate with a sense of silence, while securing the protection this school needs in order to train more elite students such as the ones involved in HD. The code name was given to them to prevent excessive use of their names, as to not leak any information that has been deemed vital by Lord Death. The two students have been sworn to secrecy of their special placement on pain of death, and have dedicated the last year to their cause. Below are the personal files of both Meister, Hiriku Archid, and Weapon, Estabelle Grishaw (Belle)

Hiriku Yvel Archid
Image------------Physical Description------------
Age: 19 Height: 5'6" Weight: 125lbs. Hiriku has long, silver colored hair that is normally tied back in a ponytail with the remainder flowing freely as she sees fit. Pale, fair skin, with a toned, athletic build. Her bright green eyes are normally covered up by a pair of bright yellow shades, tinted for better visualization in cases of extreme light. She wears little to no armor, save for a pair of steel trimmed, golden, finger-less gloves. Her outfit often consists of a dark, pink colored halter top with yellow trim, a pair of black shorts with yellow trim extending just below her knees, and a black armband on her right arm.
Hiriku is considered by most to be "Obnoxious" However, after careful analysis, we have come to the conclusion that her obnoxious behavior is merely a result of her acting out around her fellow classmates. Upon examination in the field, she dons a harsh and strict demeanor, almost allowing no room for her normal outgoing self. This reflects deeply on her soul's wavelength, as described below. Among friends, she is kind and ambitious, outgoing through and through. She is considered loyal and warmhearted, and has rarely been known to turn someone away if they are in need. She shows little mercy to her opponents, to the point where her methods may be considered by some, barbaric, though, through the eyes of Lord Death, she is described as 'Enthusiastic'.
----------------------------Abilites----------------------------Hiriku has not only displayed extensive expertise of Muay Thai, to the point where she can engage multiple opponents without the assistance of her weapon partner, but she has also displayed the ability known as 'Soul Perception', which allows her to see the souls of the living, and make accurate depictions of said people based on what she sees. This makes her a very formidable opponent given her resonation technique with her weapon partner, as explained below.
Hiriku has always been a bit of a black sheep in her family. Her father works at the DWMA, Professor Mikail, and her mother has never been employed since she can remember, she only knows that she combated depression and an alcohol addiction until the day she died. Her father never wanted a Daughter, he wanted a son he could train under his wing to become the greatest weapon meister the academy had ever seen, in a sort of way to redeem himself for being such a lowlife teacher. So, when Hiriku was born, her father cursed both her and her mother, even going as far as to call her mother a cheating whore who wouldn't bless her with a baby boy. Her father did what he could with a girl, and trained her furiously from a young age. He never showed her any emotion or compassion, and simply made her drive harder and harder, work longer and faster, with no rewards other than her own strength improvements. When he forced her to join the academy, she was so emotionally detached from other kids that she didn't find a weapon partner. Instead she was sent with other pairs to help them in their assignments, never gaining any souls of her own. It wasn't until late into her first year the Estabelle was transferred into the academy from New York. The two were paired by Lord Death himself, and with his guidance, were able to achieve resonance in less than a week. It was then that they began their operations as Hero Development. They never worked well with the other students and it just made sense to utilize their extreme talent. They work still to this day, and continue to carry out personal assignments from Lord Death.

Estabelle Mizori Grishaw (Belle)
Image------------Physical Description------------
Age: 19 Height: 4'11" Weight: 100lbs. Estabelle has short, pale white hair that is normally covered up by her hood, save for whatever manages to creep it's way through. She has pale skin and a rather thin build, what little muscles she does have are well toned. Her eyes are a concerning shade of red, and often times give off the feeling that they are glowing with some kind of warm energy. She wears a long black robe that covers from her head down to her toes, with her chest and stomach being exposed. She wears knee-high black boots and black leggings that cover the rest of her legs. She is rarely seen without her scarf, which is always wrapped neatly around her neck to cover her mouth.
------------------------Personality-----------------------Little is known about the extent of Estabelle's personality, for she mostly remains quiet, communicating only through the telepathic link shared between her and Hiriku. From what has been seen of her in social situations, she lacks basic communication skills, like sarcasm, jokes, etc. And instead is always merely going along with the conversation, hardly putting forth any input. She is often described as stern and unforgiving, always seeming to keep Hiriku in line when they are among other classmates. Truly careless, she finds little importance in other people's emotions, and she never shares her own.
--------------------------Abilities--------------------------Being a weapon, Estabelle's main Ability is that of being able to transform not only parts of her anatomy, but her entire being into the weapon pictured below. She has shown a vast understanding of changing certain parts into weapon form, be it her arm, leg, etc. This is helpful as she also has demonstrated a unique combat prowess when alone, although it doesn't come near that capabilities seen by Hiriku. Their most dangerous technique is their Resonance ability, Soul Shroud. During this attack, they are able to use their combined wavelengths to blind all nearby enemies, making them see only a black fog. The downside to this is that is also effects the meister, Hiriku, but, thanks to her extensive training in Soul Perception, she is able to combat normally by not seeing them, but seeing instead their soul and reading their actions. They have often been described as the Assassins of the DWMA, but those are just silly nicknames given by those who spread rumors.
--------------------------History--------------------------The only information that has been gathered on Estabelle's history is what was told in Sleep Therapy sessions with Proffesor Stein, as well as the encounter that took place between her and Spirit Albarn, which resulted in her transfer to the academy. From the sleep sessions, it is known that her mother died when she was very young, it is unclear as to how, her memory is clouded in the departemnt. But shortly after her mothers death, her father began selling her to his friends in an attempt to make up for the income lost by her mother's death. She was physically tortured by these men from ages 11-17, when it was discovered by her that she was a weapon, when, in an attempt to ward off a friend of her father's, her arm became the blade of her weapon and drove the man through the neck. With little other thought she fled from her father's home, hiding out in back alleys and bus stations until she made her way to New York, where she got a part time job as an exotic dancer at a place called, "The Loaded Kettle" There is a time gap missing from here, for the Sleep Therapy sessions stopped working, but we do know that shortly after she turned 19, that was when Spirit Albarn was traveling through New York, and, of course, stopped at The Loaded Kettle. He took an interest in Estabelle, mainly because he was able to tell she was a weapon. After paying for a private dance, he was able to communicate with her freely in the back room, and it was there that he explained that there were many others like her and they gathered at the DWMA. She had few other things going for her at the time, and with little hesitation, agreed to come back with Spirit Albarn to the academy. She spent her first two weeks at the academy under close watch of Lord Death as he tried to analyze her, because no amount of talking would change the fact that she refused to open up about her past. Thus began the sleep therapy with Stein, as explained above. Lord Death paired her with Hiriku because he knew their wavelenghts would coexist, due to similar dark pasts. They now carry out their personal errands for Lord Death with a certain decorum and finesse, and it is for certain that this is where the two of them belong.

Photo Credits

Listed below are links to the people who own the photos I have used in this Character Biography. Please acknowledge their hard work, for I own none of it.
Hiriku Yvel Archid
Estabelle Mizori Grishaw (Human Form)
Estabelle Mizori Grishaw (Weapon Form)

So begins...

Hero Development (HD)'s Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Braum Noazaku Character Portrait: Hero Development (HD) Character Portrait: Cory Dunn Character Portrait: Salem Witch
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Salem Witch

She was trapped…trapped in this relationship with this weapon that seemed to have a hatred of the world, trapped to live with him, and trapped to wield him. She sulked, wanting nothing more than to punch a hole through something. The very tip of her witch had begun to get blue- a sign showcasing her extreme depression. She wanted nothing to do with a weapons he only wanted a little fun and to study them,-what she said about that part at least was true, but this!? This was insane!

Had she but given it a second thought she would not have went through with her little plan and now she was stuck with him like sap to a tree. With her head held down she scooted away slowly, her signature red shoes scuffling across the floor like she was a zombified person who had just awoken from a long, peaceful slumber to realize “Oh shit, its school time.” She sighed ever so heavily, not bothering to show off her deep rooted frustration with this sudden change in her plans. On top of him being her weapon he would have to roam about her beautiful little floral boutique that doubled as her home. Her poor pink abode, being stunk up by the likes of…A weapon. How Disgusting!

It was enough to prune her grapes! She stamped her foot and briskly walked with her sights set straight on giving that Cody guy a piece of her mind. If he was going to be living in her home she would set down no ground rules and she would not have him treating her like he was as of recently. She only had patience for polite, easy-going, kind people. People with manners, people who spoke back to you; people who didn’t shove you off like you were a fly buzzing in their ears. She despised him more than any other weapon she had ever met in her entire life. Ever. Yet she could not deny the magnetism of the two of them, but if there was to be a magnet he was most assuredly the negative side. He suited not her perky, prim, prima-donna like attitude. Couldn’t she have gotten someone with a little more respect? At LEAST he could pretend to be more hospitable.

Even still, when he tried to be of some compliance and be a gentleman of sorts she could tell very well he was putting up with her, only bearing with her because the “oh so mighty” Shingami-Sama wanted him too. He held disdain for her and distaste for her type. Just like every other she met. He was being forced to hold out his hands, basically spitting out the ice cold words that he was trying to make sound civil. She wanted to smack his finely shaped arm away along with those horrid cuticles. He needed a serious manicure. Wait, why was she thinking about his nails? He was being an absolute pig! No, worse-A Boar. She would not have it…but as bad as he was, he was nothing in comparison to what was to come.

Suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere out pops these two tight-lipped, stuffed-shirts, arrogant little know-it-alls. They were both girls, and although Salem would not lie-The Meister was a beauty (though, internally she was cocky to say, “Not nearly as beautiful as me, of course”), she loathed the authority they thought they had over her. Every turn she got to speak they cut her off with volatile words of “do this” and “do that or else”, and when all was said and done Salem was apparently expected to be shoved into her first mission already, without much training or rest. She knew damned good and well it was because of what she was. That was always some sort of repercussion or expectation with being born a witch. At times, she was curious as to what would happen if she was mortal but then things would be a lot less fun.

Then they brusquely shoved in-between her with the utmost callousness toward her and then…then they shot the arrow that pierced her. ‘Witch’, she said, the one with yellow shades the color of mustard. Witch. That insulting term that limited her down to just her blood-line, to the bare basics. It was no better than calling a woman a ‘bay maker’. In fact, it felt just as appalling. She was much more than that, she had a name, past, a history, friends, a garden, a love for life….and yet they labeled her as if she was something to hold antipathy for, like she was someone who had burned their house and murdered their family.

Not all witches cackle, have warts, green faces, and try to “get you, my pretty”. Certainly not. Just as all humans were not all dictators who killed people or slave owners or-to be simple about it- wretched people. Some were, not all. Why witches weren't considered as moral as the rest? Because of how they once were? This was the 20th century; couldn't there be some le-way for her? She was innocent by all means. She never caused any fusses-save for today perhaps. Sure she was a lusty pervert and an undeniable flirt but she was not evil. She was pure, in some aspect; at least she was not capable of killing anyone. Sure she beat up a few people because they got on her rare bad side but never killed. Never.

“I have a name…” She whispered hoarsely underneath her breath, trying hard to fight back any tears that hadn't spilled in quiet some years, “I have a name…I’m not just a witch…My name is Salem! Salem you got that!” Her voice rose as with the anger bubbling inside of her, waiting to pour over and boil all those in her path.

When she was infuriated she did become violent, she became blind with rage. She was offended, she was hurt. She now apologized, of course internally, for thinking Cory was the worst the DWMA had to offer. He was a sweet-heart compared with the way these girls made her feel. Even though the halls were empty of the two tyrants, at least she same them as such, she screamed,


She was certain that Cory was staring at her in some strange way or something. She didn’t give a shitake mushroom about him and his cold yet somehow attractive eyes. She looked back at him, giving him the iciest of looks, he could tell that somewhere behind her enchanting orchid orbs there was some darkness, some hidden evil, an evil she dared to ignore, an evil she swore she didn't have. Her look at him was much colder that his could have been at any moment and it remained that way, tainted with seething fury. How are they! If she weren't trying to uphold some kind of impression she would of back-handed them. She huffed out a heavy sigh while turning around and stomping away.

“Come on scythe boy,” She hissed between gritted teeth, using the pet name Blair used on Soul for him, though she did not mean it in a kind or loving or cutesy way. I they would use terms on her that would insult her pride then she would do the same. They deserved the same treatment.

‘But Your mother told you to treat people how you were treated,’ A small angelic voice sweetly said in her mind.

‘I don’t care what she thinks! My real mother abandoned me and the rich smothered me. They just used me as a replacement…what does she know?”

‘Still…she was very smart and kind. Perhaps it’s best to take her advice? Maybe you should be nice to that Cody kid. He could need a friend.’

‘He’s a weapon, if he wants a friend it should be another weapon…or a human…not…not…’

‘A witch?’

She didn't answer her thoughts, realizing the corner she backed herself up in. She was such a hypocrite at times. She really was, but at times she couldn't see that. She thought herself justified in her actions. She hoped Cory was following her, Death help him if he wasn't. She’d have a few choice, unlady like, words to say to him. Curse words-to be exact. When she got to her tea-pot shaped house it gave her no joy-nor did the fact that she had some fresh new flowers and crops growing. Nothing helped. Nothing assuaged her. The only thing to do was head to the one source that could silence her ration thoughts that tried to make her nice to the thing that she hated or to anyone at that moment.

He opened her fridge widely and pulled out a large bottle of Brietenbach-Strawberry Wine. What else would it be? She uncorked it and poured it into a white wine glass that was covered in glitter with little jeweled hearts on it. She shoved a strawberry onto the rim after dipping the rim into pink sea salt. She looked at Cory for he had indeed followed her in and was more than likely disgusted with the cute frills and pink glut everywhere, and gave him a quick bit of sympathy and a dash of her true pain.

“You know…I hate the DWMA. I hate what it does…what it stands for…I hate it, I think, more than weapons. More than you. I just hate people, ya know?”

She gave him no room to question as she downed the wine, trying to remain a lady before she trudged into her room to drink herself into a pit, still keeping in mind that she needed to be somewhere in four hours. Eh, I can make it on time. I can do it…but I’m going to be so drunk…heh, imagine the look on their ostentatious little faces then? Priceless.

She lay down on her plushy blush colored; very girl bed that looked as if it belonged to some pre-pubescent young pop star loving girl instead of a grown woman. Salem discarded the glass, no time for fancy properness, only time for drowning herself in her delicious bottle of wine. She would need to buy more because she was absolutely sure she would drink all of this one. Off went all her clothes and in the bottle went to her mouth, as she blared a surprising choice of music. Some type of rock, and with it her voice, her singing voice, captivating and exquisite, soothing and calm like a practiced singer of high-caliber, sang out;

“I said I don’t care whatcha think, as long as it’s about me. The rest of us can find happiness in misery…”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hero Development (HD) Character Portrait: Cory Dunn Character Portrait: Seiberg Ardane Character Portrait: Salem Witch Character Portrait: Eileen Einzbern
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#, as written by Senpai
Eileen Einzbern

Eileen couldn't help but snicker at him once his little monologue was over. It wasn't out of cruelty or mocking but moreso out of amusement. Coupled with how he spoke, him going off on a tangent to explain exactly why he didn't have a partner amused her. With a sigh and a soft shake of the head, she placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder with a soft smile. "Seiby, you don't have to lie to me and say you had a partner that was late. I wouldn't have thought any less of you. I think you're a real sweet guy. And while you're a bit of a book nerd, I feel like I can get along with you."

Looking Seiby over, he was a scrawny, immasculine bookworm who had probably never lifted a weight in his life. In her eyes, all he was missing was the trademarked taped glasses so stereotypical of a nerd of his caliber. She had probably only read a tiny percentage of the books he read in his entire life while she was training her body and traveling. The two seemed to be leading completely different lives with no real similarities (at least none that have shown), and yet she did feel some kind of connection between the two. As if they would just work well together. She could not begin to describe what made her feel that way, but she knew that she did.

With a shrug, she gave a rather amused expression. "Well, I do not have a partner yet. I do not even know anyone besides you. New kids troubles, am I right?" She paused to laugh before giving him another small smile. "A double bass, eh? Sounds a hell of a lot more original than a bloody scythe or a sword or something. I can't really say I enjoyed the thought of swinging around a big old scythe anyway..." She couldn't refuse a face that red if she tried. "Sure, Seiby. I'll happily be your meister. But if we're doing this, we're going to do it my way, you hear?"

Wait a second, was aloof supposed to be an insult?

Cory Dunn

It was just one thing after another in the life of Cory Dunn. His expectations for the day were just quickly turning into the exact opposite of what he originally thought. He had expected to go through another year without a meister. To just focus on his studies and get the hell out of DWMA while he could still pose no real threat. Maybe he would have taken up gardening to keep himself calm or began drinking herbal teas. There was no way he could have seen the events of this day coming. He guided a witch to see Death and then watched as she was made a student at DWMA... him being stuck as her weapon. In all honesty, he didn't care much for her. And that had nothing to do with being a witch. What he hated was that sense of entitlement she seemed to have. To have the gall to come into DWMA and demand to be a student while using those... sacks of chest meat as a bargaining tool. And on top of all of that, her presence seemed to stir the voices he had been trying to keep suppressed. Looking at her roused the Madness within him that he struggled to keep in check.

And on top of all of that, they were being forced on a mission with Death's personal lap dogs. They had no time to even practice or see if the witch had the capacity to even wield him. What exactly was Death planning? "What a bother..." He muttered as he stood up and watched the girls turn the corner. Only to have the witch now begin screaming her name at the girls. What was her problem? Regardless of what it was, her problems were now his problems now that they were partners. And as much as he dreaded it, he came to accept it. She could never compare to Amanda, never, but in the end she was probably better than no one. And if there was anyone he could anticipate to handle his Madness, it may as well be a witch. They were already magically inclined and powerful to begin with.

And with no real hesitation, he followed Salem back to her home. He stood outside of it with an uncomfortable pose once he arrived. Her house was literally a giant teapot. It seemed that the rumors about witches being quite... eccentric right down to where they lived was true. By the time he had followed her in, Salem had already begun hitting the wine. Was she even old enough to drink? She was a student... But in the end, he decided not to say anything about it. After all, he had committed the ultimate taboo amongst weapons. Who was he to get upset over a little alcohol? He had no real time to take in his surroundings before she went off on her mini-rant.

“You know…I hate the DWMA. I hate what it does…what it stands for…I hate it, I think, more than weapons. More than you. I just hate people, ya know?”

To an extent, he could sympathize with that. She was a witch. What reason would she have to actually like DWMA? It led him to wonder why she really joined DWMA in the first place. At this point it was obvious that she lied to Death to get in. Did she have some nefarious plot to destroy it from the inside-out?

"So what if she does? Don't you want to help her? Don't you want to destroy DWMA yourself? To watch it all burn and crumble before you, for taking your beloved Amanda away from you? Don't lie to yourself, kid. Take advantage of it. Let her have a taste of me. You two will get along just fiiine then... Fufufu..."

"Shut up! Get the hell out of my head!" He yelled with his ears covered by his hands, as if that somehow would stop that incessant nagging from the voice. It was so bad in here... He began wondering just how long he would have to deal with this voice. When would it go away? He knew the answer to that question... but he didn't want to admit it to himself. Looking around, Salem had already disappeared to her room and begun blasting some rock music. Through even the music's volume, her voice rang out like a bell. And much to his surprise, that agitating voice that commanded some much attention and seemed to feign manners was actually rather beautiful when it was used to sing.

Looking around, this place was rather sickening with the pink all over the place. Would some more subtle colors kill her? At least one white room would have been nice. As he explored, it was all just pink. There wasn't a single wall that wasn't pink, adorned with cute and often strawberry-themed knick-knacks, or both. Witches really were different creatures, that was for sure. But now that she had finally stopped talking, he had some business to tend to. A certain something he needed to get out of the way now before it became too late...

With a loud and rapid five knocks on her bedroom's door, he began yelling without waiting for the door to be answered. "Listen up! I don't wanna be called 'Scythe Boy.' That ain't my name, you hear?! I'm Cory Dunn! Get it memorized!" He paused a moment before sighing at himself. "I'll call you by your name, so you call me by mine. You got that, Salem?" He wasn't too great at the whole conversation thing. Manners, which she sought out so bullheadedly, seemed to be lost on this boy. And it wasn't that he didn't know how to use them. It was more that manners promoted kindness and a sense of fraternity, companionship. He was forced with her now, but that didn't mean he was ready to completely accept her. No, she'd need to earn that approval. As he probably would with her. It all felt like such a pain. Why couldn't Amanda have just stayed at DWMA? "We're both stuck with each other and neither of us is exactly elated about it. Can we at least just... Try not to loathe each other? I just want to make it to the end of the year and get out of here."

"Is that what you really want, boy? You just want to go and put yourself back in isolation? Why do you lie to yourself? You and I both know that you seek carnage... You seek destruction. Decay. Death. Just accept yourself. You'll be much happier..." A cackling accompanied the end of the voice's torment, but said nothing more. Cory held his head as if suddenly getting a headache as he tried to find a way to ignore the voice. He just waited on Salem to answer him.