|
|
Post by ——zero on Oct 29, 2010 1:10:14 GMT 1
[NDE]
[chapter.one]
"Disgusting filth." the creature had said to his Master, covered beneath a tangible field of shadow, strange bladed protrusions exploding from multiple abdomens arranged like the crushed carapace of some demonic insect. A hand that was also a spike and a beautiful mirror and a flower of swords reached through Akuen Dokuga's spiritron chest, disrupting the energy that held his 'body' together, the man too proud to scream but choking back blood amidst the pain.
Zero choked as well, curled into himself as a spiraling group of needles compacted with light descended again and again into his flesh, the buzzing whir of machinery intertwining with images translated at the speed of thought, connecting him and the dying Shinigami that had once taught him to survive.
Eventually, the pain became too much for them both and two screams tore through the encompassing darkness.
One stopped abruptly, replaced by a stifled growl and the sound of eating.
Zero opened his eyes. He sat with his back against a bench at the Fourth Division Hospital's outdoor waiting area. He'd fallen asleep smoking again, and dissolved the burnt ash of the false cigarettes staining his clothes into a small spread of reiatsu that disappeared into the air.
He stood and stretched, before eventually succumbing to the unspoken urge and lighting another of the cheap tobacco imitations. The nightmares had been getting worse. He shook his head back and forth, tried desperately to clear his mind of the unwanted memories, and began a slow walk away from the hospital, towards an old training area a few miles out.
|
|
|
|
Post by Takuya on Oct 29, 2010 16:08:20 GMT 1
”Hmm...” It didn't look good. Hell, it never did. No one ever came out of the Hospital with a smile on their face. People died in the hospital. It seemed like everyone said that it was a place of healing, of resurrection, but more people died in the hospital than anywhere else in Seireitei. When death came for the gods of death, it knew just where to go, the one place where the weak and the dying awaited the touch of the Reaper. It was a house of healing once in a while, for sure. But most days, the Forth Division Hospital is just a house of mourning. No one ever came out of the Hospital happy, even if medicine saved the day. There was always death around the corner. Senyoukai Takuya stood quietly on the dusty ground of the training field, inside a ring of fresh white paint that was already starting to fade away. Swordplay and sorcery weren't kind to the battlefields they rode astride. His hair hung loose and ruffled over his eyes, nearly covering his icy blue optics. His arms were folded in front of him, his hands tucked into his sleeves. The thin, well-polished sheath of his sword hung by his side, tucked through his obi and secured to his waist. The faint whispers of his blade were quieted, now, as both sword and master watched a dark haired fellow in the garb of an average Shinigami shuffling towards the practice field. “Curious,” He said, unfolding his hands and tattooing out a simple beat on the hilt of his sword with his fingers. Tōrōnagashi hummed under his fingers, the spirit stirring within the sword. It recognized the slow cadence of his fingers against the worked leather. It knew that more often than not, the blade would be out and flickering forth soon after the beat of those fingers slid into a grip. Takuya stood still and observant as the lad came closer. He was a young looking fellow, which meant very little and at the same time quite a lot in the Seireitei. The faint smell of a cigarette hung around him, the heady smell of smoke, nicotine, and plutonium whispering through the air. Takuya wrinkled his nose lightly, but otherwise didn't move until the man was much closer. The whisper of his reiatsu, as it slithered against Takuya's, spoke more about him. “A fighter, though...” “Looks like it's been a rough day,” Takuya said loudly, clearing his throat. He shifted his stance, turning his body to face the approaching figure. His fingers continued to drum against the hilt of his zanpaktou. He lifted a hand in an awkward wave that died out a moment later. Takuya tucked the hand behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment and frowning. He let the hand drop a moment later, glacial eyes narrowing slightly as he made a more critical analysis of the man before him. He took in the features, and the sword at his back, and the way he carried himself. Still, there was only so much he could learn by simply watching a man walk. “If you're looking to blow off some steam, you're in the right place.” |
|
|
|
Post by ——zero on Oct 29, 2010 16:12:58 GMT 1
"Looks like it's been a rough day." Zero heard called out loudly as he walked, a few seconds after feeling the distinctive low level drain of reiatsu burn slightly within his gaze. He turned his head to see another Shinigami....a blue eyed, black haired young man with a permanently lazy expression, shorter than he himself, his wiry frame unspeakably concentrated around the hilt of his Zanpakuto. As the man watched him walk, Zero stared into his face, his eyes glowing bright red in response to the man's considerable reiatsu, and Zero reached a hand up to cover his...deformity...embarrassed.
"If you're looking to blow off some steam, you're in the right place." The man said as he studied Zero.
"Comrade." Zero replied, bowing slightly in the man's direction. "Blowing off steam is precisely what I planned to do. Though to approach another Soul Reaper with a hand prepared to draw a sword, and not even introduce myself is an offense my soul could not afford to bear." he finished thoughtfully, careful to add a small chastising inflection to his tone.
"I am Zero Urohokousha, Unseated, of 12th Squad. I cannot say I recognize you, so you must forgive me...."
He did not finish the statement, hoping the man would offer his name, his eyes burning with a red glow that would not leave.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Abumi on Oct 29, 2010 17:03:54 GMT 1
A lot of time has passed and this shift was already nearing the end, she just has to visit the Hospital and deliver a few documents she received from her Captain to the 4th Division Captain. She didn't really liked to go but what could she do, it was an order. She remembered how the 4th Division Captain looked like, it was something scary for a medic that is. Not that she doubted the Captain's abilities but ughh, so horrifying. Her speed abilities has increased a little just by delivering documents and running errands for the Captain and so arriving to the Hospital was no big feat.
Stepping on the doorsteps of the Hospital, she sensed a familiar reiatsu coming from the training fields, she knew who that was however duty called. Quickly were the documents delivered and the Vice-Captain would thank her with a warm cup of tea and then finally let her go. Once outside the place of healing she headed towards the 11th division training fields. There were always people fighting in that squad and so she could easily learn a thing or two from them.
Aya passed through the numerous gates and shinigami fighting each other, each possessed incredible reiatsu however it was nothing compared to her siblings who were nobles, it was known nobles were blessed with large reiatsu and so was in her case. From the distance, she spotted Takuya who was talking with some shinigami she never saw before, it looked like they were readying for a fight. A smile appeared on her face while jumping on one of the roofs to another drawing nearer to both. Finally there was a nice roof where she could see everything they were going to do.
|
|
|
|
Post by Takuya on Oct 29, 2010 23:55:45 GMT 1
Eyes that flickered with a crimson glow, framed under dark brows. That was something interesting. Takuya had never seen that sort of optical condition in a Shinigami before. It was something tended to appear in Hollows, and occasionally in certain spiritual empowered human beings, but never in Shinigami. It was the kind of thing that bespoke the power of the Hollow, the kind of energy that was concentrated through the physical body rather than through the sword. He mused on it for a second, frowning, as he listened to his fellow Shinigami speak. He was a polite enough fellow, and his words were loquacious and flowed with the grace and seeming candor of a skilled orator. A talented fellow, then, in more than just battle.
“I see,” Takuya said quietly, nodding with a faint smile to the man. “I suppose you're right. The niceties need to be observed.” The constant beat of the tips of his fingers against the black hilt of his zanpaktou stopped. It was replaced by the subtle creak of his hand tightening around the comfortable leather. His smile deepened and darkened, taking on the fierce edge of battle-fury and mania that seemed to pulse underneath the whole of the Eleventh Division. It was the face of battle, the visage of conflict. ”My name is Senyoukai Takuya, and I am the Fifth Seat of the Eleventh Division. Forgive me for my impatience, but it would be best if you drew your sword.”
Flick. The draw of Takuya's sword didn't give out the lengthy scratch of blade against sheath that most did; it was too fast for that. There was only the slightest sound of metal crashing against wood and leather as the blade flickered out of the case. He held it with the point facing downward, grasped lightly in his left hand. He took in a subtle breath, swelling his reiatsu with it. It wouldn't do to go all out against an unseated member, but as a member of the Eleventh Division, it would be offensive of him to hide his power from his opponent. He let a selected portion of his power run free, funneling it through his body and preparing himself for the sweet, shivering sensation of two blades coming together. He looked up at Zero, eyes alight.
”In the Eleventh Division, you see, we've never held much to the idea of holding back all that much.” Takuya's eyes swept the area as he spoke, his reiatsu feeling out his opponent and the area around him. He felt a flicker, then a spark, then the subtle and sure field of concentrated spiritual power around the man. I see, he thought. He's got more raw potential than most unseated Shinigami, I'll give him that. As he scanned the field for spiritual pressures, his mind felt a familiar presence briefly, stepping on to the field of battle and taking to the rooftops. He smiled. It'd been a while since he'd seen Aya.
”Come on, then. Blow it off,” Takuya said with a smirk. He stepped forward quickly, testing the waters. One step was followed with another, and he shuffled forward at speed, his blade flickering low to the ground. He closed the distance between the two of them before he swept his sword up, bringing it over his head as he neared. He landed on his right foot, standing close to his opponent and swinging his sword downward, his weight shifted backwards. The blade would cut down towards Zero in a cleaving strike. It wasn't that powerful of a strike, nor that fast of one. It was simply an attempt to test Zero's reflex and see what kind of force was behind his blade. He needed to have a good feel of his opponent to make this fun...
|
|
|
|
Post by ——zero on Oct 30, 2010 2:37:43 GMT 1
”My name is Senyoukai Takuya, and I am the Fifth Seat of the Eleventh Division. Forgive me for my impatience, but it would be best if you drew your sword.”
Flick.
The sound was near unnoticeable. As the man finished speaking, his blade was drawn in nearly the same instance, pointing towards Zero, his reiatsu flaring and increasing the pressure within the area by a significant degree. The man's lazy expression dropped almost instantly, replaced by the maddened but controlled insanity of one who lived for battle, Takuya's own eyes glistening with killing intent.
”In the Eleventh Division, you see, we've never held much to the idea of holding back all that much.”
Takuya added, proud and with just cause. Zero felt the mans spiritual energies coalesce and spread, searching over and through his own body, expanding out in a field that could surely encompass the entire area. He was testing the area, searching; he seemed to have a high degree of skill at perceiving the energies of others. Zero felt himself being studied, and had seen the man focus on the strange imbalance of energies that caused his eyes to glow in the presence of others. Though it seemed to be concentrated upwards and several meters away, Zero's own sensing ability had not developed far enough to so easily expand his energies. He sensed nothing out of the ordinary, and had no idea that their conflict was being observed.
”Come on, then. Blow it off,”
Takuya spat out in mock challenge, a series of quick movements propelling his body forward as his Zanpakuto first swept low, then was raised to deliver a vertical downward blow as the man closed the distance between them in mere instants, bringing his sword down to cut Zero in two. Though the man was holding back, Zero could feel the seriousness of his commitment resonate through his actions, muscles tense, well-trained, experience in the art of battle.
Crimson eyes absorbed the scene, and as a light wind rose in the background, all ambient sound in the area decreased in tempo and lowered in pitch, slowing painfully beneath the gaze of the unseated Shinigami. Things gained a unique stillness. He took in everything, placing his hands suddenly in the folds of his Shinigami robe.
Time seemed unsure of itself.
This was not some special ability, it was merely the way Zero's brain took in information. As the man's right foot slammed into the ground, his sword held high and radiating with potential energy, Zero began a simple movement. His knowledge of Shunpo was mostly unnecessary at this point, but he moved forward suddenly, inexorably close to the 5th Seat of 11th Squad, hands still in his pockets, his left shoulder aimed to be pressed against the man's chest. He would twist off of that same left shoulder as the blade crashed down, finally using the art of the flashstep to flicker behind his 'opponent', as his feet corkscrewed in a grapevine-like dance, right foot slanted out, a spin that would appear as more of a blur to any onlooker, outside of his opponents left arm. The blade would continue its downward ascent, and Zero, now effectively back to back with his opponent, would arch backwards following the movement of Takuya's shoulders and right arm, as if prepared to lay down on the other man's spine. At the completion of the downward strike, without ever drawing his own blade, Zero's right hand would rise swiftly in front of his mouth, and he would clear his throat quickly and simply. His heightened sense of combat perception spurred him to complete the most efficient maneuvers with the least amount of effort, and to any who could see this, most likely including the opponent himself, it would seem as if the unseated Shinigami had simply spun around to lean against his opponents back, albeit quicker than the average man could follow.
"Ahem."
He said, his right hand lowering to rest lightly atop the hilt of his Zanpakuto.
"Then by all means, 5th Seat Sir, do not hold back."
Zero added, his grip tightening.
His eyes burned, head twisted slightly, looking over his right shoulder to speak the words in almost a whisper directly into the man's left ear.
"You seem...distracted."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Abumi on Oct 30, 2010 2:56:19 GMT 1
[Since I am just watching so far and I am too tired, skip me this round]
|
|
|
|
Post by Takuya on Oct 30, 2010 18:00:49 GMT 1
A few moments in battle is worth more than a week on the training field. It all seemed to happen in a single moment, but one stretched out so long that every part of it was rendered exquisitely. He tracked the motion of his opponent closely, watching with intent eyes as his opponent slanted forward, hands still resting in his pockets. His opponent, it seemed, wasn't quite taking this battle seriously. It would have been wiser to pull his blade out of the sheath, at this point, because regardless of how confident he felt, the simple fact of the matter was that as long as his blade was sheathed, he couldn't use it to defend himself against sword strikes, and the difference in spiritual pressures between them would mean that, unlike some of the higher ranked opponents that Takuya sparred against, his body wouldn't resist the cut of the young Senyoukai's zanpaktou. Superior levels of reiatsu meant that the higher number of spirit particles in his blade would cleave his opponent without resistance. He had his shoulder angled towards Takuya, but it didn't seem like Zero was going for a bullrush; it was too gentle a motion, fast but easily trackable. Takuya smirked, the point of his blade slowing on the downward descent. It was an easy enough thing to do; he'd never put his weight behind the strike in the first place. It was a mistake to think that one wouldn't find themselves coming up against all sorts of feints and half-committed strikes when fighting someone who had dedicated themselves to becoming a master of swordplay. He rocked his weight back, letting his opponent collide with him for a brief moment. A brief condensation of reiatsu tickled his senses, just before his opponent disappeared in a spiral. A flash step, then. A pointless motion in this instance. If his opponent was going to avoid a committed downward strike, then there would have been no need to expend the energy required to perform that. It wasn't a wise thing to waste. As a lower level Shinigami, Zero probably couldn't make use of the flash step more than a few times before he had to rest the muscles of his legs, to prevent them from damaging themselves. Takuya moved on instinct, operating off of basic combat awareness rather than analytical thought. It was a fact that his opponent had not yet drawn his sword; it was also a fact that his range, with or without the blade, was limited. Third, and finally, without knowing whether or not Takuya was a long-range type, it would be foolish to draw back. Based on that, he whirled in a quick motion, his sword whistling out. The path of his blade changed in an instant; he had been poised and ready to alter his path since the moment he touched down, his weight aimed backwards instead of committed to his strike. It would swirl at the same time as his opponent did. The blade would snick out, as his opponent took the time to lift his hand and lean back, preparing to cough and speak, still far too relaxed for a duel. It would barely drag along the cheek of his opponent if it connected but it would draw a faint line of blood across Zero's face. Given that the blade was already flying into place as Zero came out of his flash step, supremely confident, Takuya's masterful skill in the handling of a blade and potent abilities would most likely result in the lightest of scores on his opponent. “Underestimating an opponent, any opponent, is the key to a swift death,” Takuya said, skipping back from Zero after his attack passed, putting a few meters between them. “And blades speak louder than words.” |
|
|
|
Post by ——zero on Oct 30, 2010 20:45:58 GMT 1
With the man's weight aimed backwards instead of committed to his strike, his blade, and naturally, his blade hand and arm, would begin twirling at the same moment Zero did; the blade was already flying into place as Zero came out his spiraling flashstep. The blade would snick out, just as Zero would take the time to lift his head and lean back....but his opponent had moved. As Zero had been following the motion of the man's shoulder and right arm, prepared to lay down against the man's spine, the man had begun spinning himself. Meaning Zero would have nothing to lean against, and the action of raising his head to speak, without the opponents own back to press off against, would no longer be possible. As his hand came up to clear his own throat, the lack of support beneath his spine would simply cause Zero to fall backwards, as he would have normally used Takuya's spine as a brace to stop the corkscrew motion of his feet. Without that brace in place, Zero had no choice but to succumb to the demands of gravity.
Luckily, his hand had been raised to clear his throat. As his back arched, Takuya's blade, which had apparently been swung to bring a slash across his face, would, naturally, continue its slash. If Zero had something to lean against, he would have been in place for the blade to connect. But he didn't. His right hand shot out backwards and past his own head as Takuya's masterful skill with the blade would be almost obligated to have some degree of speed behind it, quickly allowing it to enter and exit its own tiny area of effectiveness in mere fractions of a second. It would sail harmlessly overhead, as Zero bent backwards, his right hand now following, palm to the earth, would continue the backwards motion with the rest of his body, allowing him to kick his legs over his own head to reach an upright position, pivoting off of his right wrist. His opponent would skip backwards a few meters as his attack passed, and Zero would be standing upright, his right hand finally finding the hilt of his blade and drawing it out to listen carefully to Takuya's words.
“Underestimating an opponent, any opponent, is the key to a swift death,”
“And blades speak louder than words.”
Zero stared at his blade, whose name he did not know, and a look of sadness passed over the mans face. It made him look younger, suddenly, as if perhaps, the centuries of torture and abuse had happened to someone else.
"My blade won't speak to me at all." he said to the man, lowering his voice in something that sounded all too close to personal despair.
"I've tried everything I can think of. I've trained, I've meditated; I've seen masters throughout the Soul Society and ingested herbs from collections of intelligent spiritual energy so vibrant and beautiful and overwhelming some worship them as gods. I've even gone to Huec......
"...to extremes in order to test my very Soul. Nothing seems to matter. My blade...the blade I would call my own...is elusive and silent, always.
"We are strangers."
[/color] He ended, lowering his head, his reddened eyes burning with humility and their own strange energies. "I concede to defeat. You are a master, Senyoukai-sama, and I would fair no better in battle against your considerable might then I have against my own failure and shame."He bowed low in utter submission, before re-sheathing his sword, and sitting on the unforgiving ground, his legs crossed, his heart in agony, his eyes like two burning stars in the void. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font] |
|
