One Piece-Lowki559

Standing at 22 feet 10 inches, this 16 year old Wotan is a towering vision of sea-born grace and strength. His lean, powerful frame flows like water, shaped by tides, not toil. His pearlescent bronze skin is marked with shimmering scales of sapphire and emerald, glowing softly when he sings. Long, silver-blue hair floats behind him like drifting sea-silk, braided with driftglass, coral, and Sea King bone charms—trophies of a life beneath the waves. Sea-green eyes swirl like whirlpools, drawing the gaze of all who meet them. He wears a deep navy coat etched with sailor glyphs, a crimson sash over his sculpted chest, and tide-blue belts holding relics of forgotten ports. Storm-black boots leave glowing, wave-tattooed ankles bare. Every step, every note, echoes with the majesty of the ocean.

Storm commands attention with an intimidating presence, his voice as deep and unwavering as the ocean's roar. He speaks little, but every word cuts through the air like a storm. A grin rarely touches his lips, but when it does, it’s a dangerous, wild thing—like the calm before a tempest. Fueled not by a thirst for conquest, but by an unyielding desire to test his limits, he seeks the kind of peace that only those willing to fight for it can understand. He has no time for the petty squabbles of land-dwellers, finding their cruelty and greed beneath him. To Wotan, the ocean is his true home, where strength is earned, and battles are fought not for glory, but for the thrill of survival. He is chaotic good in the purest sense: he’ll break a few rules if it means doing what’s right, and he’s perfectly content to face the storm head-on.

Born on a pirate ship in the Grand Line, this Wotan was raised among rogues and rebels until a brutal naval battle near Reverse Mountain changed everything. Swept into the chaos at just 8 years old, he was cast into the raging currents and miraculously survived the descent, washing ashore in the East Blue—a sea he would later claim as his own. Raised by the waves, he grew into a lone voyager, singing sea shanties that carry the weight of his people's sorrow and strength. He’s seen the cruelty of land-dwellers—their greed, their division, their hate. Disillusioned, he sails not for fame or fortune, but for justice. He seeks peace beneath the waves, knowing it must be won, not granted. Harboring deep resentment for the way Fish-Men and hybrids are treated, he has sworn to be their voice in the storm—one song, one strike, one tide at a time. He is currently 16 years old