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[Dunan] Week 245: A Clockwork's Minute to Midnight

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Putting her denreishinki away she appeared in front of Gorou.

Despite the difference in height and the fact that on a physical level Nana was never truly intimidating to anyone, the vice-captain of the Third nonetheless grabbed Gorou by his neck and lifted him up with relative ease.

“I thought I made myself crystal clear, Yoshinaga-san,” she said as she punched the man in his face once. “I thought that of all people you would remember the virtue that revenge is a dish best served cold. So get your head out of the gutter, Yoshinaga-san, and do as you’re told!"

This time she appeared right in front of the first Senkaimon gate, looking intently at Manzou for a split second.

Turning back to Ryoujin for a moment she smiled softly.

“Please take care of these idiots for me, okay?”

Then with one fluid motion she tossed her Fifth seat through the world-piercing gate.

“And tell them to make haste, okay?” she continued as she turned back around, but halted for a split second, “Oh, and Arashi-san? Seeing as how I’m not your superior, I cannot force you to stay away. All I can do is ask you to help them out for now, and if you really must put your life in any more danger than it should need to be put in...

“You can come back to help us out in getting into the final corridor, but do make sure you’re one hundred percent sure, okay? If you come back with even the slightest hint of hesitation, I will personally throw you back out, understood?”

With that she moved back next to Tsubaki, but turned to Ishin first.

"You have two options Katsuji-taichou, either you help me and Mabara-san out in trying to break these iron bars..." She pointed her corrupted hand - with relative pain - towards the massive beams blocking off the path to the only place they had yet to get to, "Or," she continued, "You can go across this room, through the corridor leading from this place, and go to where Maikeru-taichou is currently at.

"I would suggest you stay with us, but seeing as how I am but a vice-captain, the choice is entirely yours."

With that she appeared right next to the sealed off corridor and began unleashing a miasma of fire on it, while simultaneously using Murakumo's wind power to cut through the beams much faster.

[420/1885]

Oh, Ish, sorry for ruining your fun. I kind of didn't realize there had been more posts made since I last checked, but it should still work.
 
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As an entryway began to appear for Nana and the others, the Blood Templar laughed. Closing his eyes, Ryoujin smirked. This was it. Raifuku's game had entered its latter stages, and now, it was up to them to help sort this mess out once and for all.

"You don't have to worry about them. I'm sure Gorou understands our intentions, and Manzou is by far the most sane amongst the three of us. We'll get the Commander's message to the Kidou chief and work from the outside to help get you guys out."

With that said, he didn't bother wishing any of the others any luck. Perhaps, it may have been a stretch to be confident in this scenario, but his conviction to act as the Eleventh's pillar and safeguard the lives of the Gotei were what motivated his actions at this point.

Without wasting anymore time, Ryoujin jumped through the portal, leaving no regrets behind. Even though they would be returning back to Soul Society, there was no telling what they would come across on the other side. For all he knew, Raifuku could have caused turmoil back at headquarters. All the more reason why they needed to head back.​

[ 1103 Final ]​
 
For a moment Gorou felt as if, in his rage, he’d try to fight everybody in the chamber at once. That he could hardly react before he’d been cuffed and tossed like a ragdoll was infuriating. Before he knew it he was hurtling out of the gate and face-planted just a few feet away from the entrance. The threats and lectures still rattled in his ears, but he was in no mood for introspection.

None of his anger had dissipated as he stood, and at the sight of the pink-haired templar his rage was only fueled. In a huff he reached for his blade, which had clattered a few feet away after he’d been thrown out of the gate. He retrieved and sheathed the weapon. Again he looked at the templar and tightened his stance.

“Not today,” he snorted gutturally, “but I won’t forget,” he stepped away and noted that his cigarette had been knocked out in the commotion. For the first time he looked out at Seireitei, and felt constricted. Behind him was a bloody and violent war, and a madman he wished to kill with every fiber of his being, and every available superior had stood in his way. He’d have to follow both Manzou and Arashi, and wait that much longer until he could kill something again.

Curiously, Gunshin had not uttered a single word nor even rumbled in its case. Such behavior was unusual from the war god, but he didn’t pay it much attention. There were more important matters at hand.
256 [1105]​
 
“Gorou,” the Herald shouted, one hand on the lavender rope belt at his hip and the other hanging limply at his side as he walked gingerly beside Arashi. A subjective bend to his brow and a sharp eyes cast on his friend, he continued, “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

In the Sixth Seat’s eyes, the sanguine-haired man became more and more anomalous every second. The rage, unlike the last time the raven-haired man laid eyes on it, was controlled, a fuel for his sword arm when the two of them crossed blades. The man that stood before him was---basic, primal, almost like a newborn carnivore.

He wanted to tell him not to let Nana get to him---even as much as he himself wanted to storm back through the gate and knock her out. But it wasn’t her or anyone else that had started the fire; Gorou had been as tense as a cornered beast from the moment Manzou laid eyes on him.

"You do know who's your enemy and who's not your enemy, right?"


[169/1,058]​
 
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Tsubaki remained silent from the time Nana had retrieved her, even while everyone else seemed to be at the throats of their own comrades. Happily it seemed that Arashi had not seen fit to join the fracas, giving the former Captain all the more reason to keep up the genuine expression of calm contentment. He has grown up more than I realized...hopefully he continues to support Kyuketsu. The smile assumed something almost warm and motherly for a moment, then rescinded.

Together they could make a better command for the Eleventh than I ever dreamed to be.

With the scuffles dismissed and dealt with, Tsubaki started towards the late Reaper's second with the same becalmed smile. "Vice-Captain Amaterasu, I regret to inform you that my releases are currently not a viable option for breaking these beams. However..." The blade of white fire appeared in her left hand, away from the other woman. "...if you are able to cut through them part of the way?"

She hurled the blade almost instantaneously, jarring the first beam so violently the screech of ripping steel echoed through the chamber like a banshee's wail. With a heavy set of thuds the first destroyed girder hit the ground.

"I can assist you with the rest."

[208/317]

SORRY
Life be nuts, yo. Working for Patti, Dani's dad, cleaning out my late Grandfather's for the estate sale, and working for my own parents. Kyle knows how crazy at least two of these people are.
 
At that moment, Gorou had no reason to censor himself whatsoever. He stopped dead in his tracks and violently advanced towards Manzou, stopping just a couple of feet away. All that he had to give to the sixth seat was bitterness and rage.

“Don’t tell me who my enemies are,” he snarled, “my enemy...IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT GATE!” For emphasis he jerked his shoulder in the direction of the senkaimon.

“MY ENEMY IS ANYBODY THAT STANDS IN MY WAY!” He seemed to relent, but he was actually turning towards the gate, and partially emphasizing Arashi’s presence.

“There is a war being fought against a madman whose death is deserved a thousand times over! AND INSTEAD OF FACING HIM DOWN, I’M HERE! HELPING YOU,” he brutishly jabbed his thumb in Manzou’s direction, “PLAY MESSENGER! RAIFUKU IS STILL LIVING, STILL BREATHING,” he’d balled up his fists, “SO DON’T TELL ME WHO MY ENEMY IS! BECAUSE THOSE WITH THE GALL TO THINK THEMSELVES MY ALLIES STOOD IN MY WAY WHEN I MEANT TO KILL HIM!”

Were the berserk veteran a machine, smoke would be fuming from his ears. In point of fact his face had turned beet red with anger, and his heart had started pumping exponentially faster as he shouted. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he instead shut and ground his teeth. Far angrier footsteps took him away from the former third seat.

“Hurry up,” he grunted quietly, “and get this over with.”
248 [1358]​
 
The Herald’s chin was raised. His head tilted back as the Fifth Seat closed rapidly on him, distanced his eyes from Gorou and the fullness of his mania. Neither eye deviated from the sanguine-haired man’s orbs nor did the deep slant to his own brow sharpened or soften. Both feet were stopped, a definite steadiness to his poise that had been lacking ever since he’d been perforated. His pains were still there, not as prevalent or mind-numbing or as much a hinderance to everything he tried to do as before. There, Manzou absolutely still, both eyes trailing his fellow Herald as he paced hurriedly away.

He understood---and wasn’t the least bit blunted.

“...alright,” he said, fed up.

Ignoring the pulse of pain that shot from his right ankle all the way up to his lower abdomen, Manzou limped heedlessly and as quickly as he could toward Gorou. Specks of blood dripped from his sandal every time his right foot was planted, leaving a faint trail in the whiteness of the spectral world as he closed on the maddened swordsman.

One hand reached out and clasped on the man’s bulky shoulder, resting there for a split-second to pull his center of gravity back under him. With as much force as he could muster from his battered arm, Manzou spun the man around and cocked his fist back tightly.

Every bit of strength left in him was put behind his knuckles---which were shot toward Gorou’s nose with enough force to send himself off balance and towards the floor.

“You want to fight somebody so fuckin’ bad,” Manzou groaned lowly, leaning up on his elbows. “then fight me.” He lifted his head, panting but not any less resolute. “If you had any sense right now, you’d realize we’re trying to do the same damn thing right now.” Suddenly, black flames materialized from seemingly nowhere just off of his midsection, growing in force and volume and swirling to envelop him completely. “But you don’t want that... you want blood.”

The Herald stood to his feet, the flames having renewed little of but enough of his vigor to stand with feigned solidity. His opaque silhouette supreme contrasted the whiteness around them---appearing no more distinct or familiar to either Arashi or Gorou... than Gorou appeared to him.

“You want blood? I’ll give it you. Make a decision, Gorou. Do you want stop him or do you wantblood?”


[392/1,450]​
 
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There had been enough force, coupled with the element of surprise, to put Gorou on the ground once again. Feeling the pain radiate through his face was enough to push him all the way into a bestial rage, or it should have been. No amount of rage was enough to make him forget language – he heard what Manzou said, he understood it, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Sandal scraped against pavement as he stood back up, and upon standing back up he looked squarely at...they were friends, weren’t they?

“Is this what that defeated old man feared so much?” As if on cue, Gunshin finally spoke up.

Anger wasn’t the proper term for what he felt, nor was rage. When he looked at Manzou, he could only think about how much he wanted to kill. Punching him in the face meant they were to fight – it meant that they were enemies. And yet it didn’t, because his rage was attached to one specific face. It wasn’t Raifuku standing ahead, it was Kagetoki Manzou. Briefly, he eyed Arashi once more and refocused his attention back to the onyx-eyed death god.

“Did you know,” he was still angry enough that it was detectable on his face and in his voice, “they used to call me Gorou the red,” he couldn’t stop shaking. He wanted to say “yes” and fight Manzou until one of them was dead, because there was nowhere else for his aggression to go.

“I don’t want to stop Raifuku,” his hate-filled glare returned tenfold, “I want everything he has planned shut down, and when he has no cowardly tricks to protect him, I want to look him in the eyes and watch him die,” he still wanted to fight his fellow herald in spite of his own words.

If he even moved a muscle countless more would try to force themselves in Manzou’s direction. He lingered only for a moment. To deny his every instinct precisely what they wanted, he walked so that he couldn’t see either reaper behind him.
344 [1702]​
 
As soon as the beast turned away, the Sixth Seat let out the ample, compacted breath in his chest through his nose, deliberately slow and silently. Every contracted muscle beneath the black flames of Shoushinjisatsu unfurled with relief, though less so in what ease came from Gorou’s proving that he still held onto enough of his sanity to keep his primal self caged---and more so in the fact that he didn’t have to face him. The raven-haired man held no reservations on crossing blades or lacerating his friend, need be or not. He was sure that even Gorou’s better self didn’t either. His skin and the flesh beneath still held the taste of Gunshin’s edge firmly in its muscle memory.

His only doubt was that he’d survive it if it happened. All four knuckles cried out as if Manzou had thrown his punch at a ten-foot thick wall of grizzly bloodstone.

With his breath went the adrenaline that allowed him to ignore the bullets festering in his body and the unmended skin and organs they were embedded in. Better judgment kicked in as the image flashed in his head and, just like that, the black fire swimming along his every inch exploded and evaporated away in blue specks of reishi. Numbing pain pulsated from where the hollow-pointed rounds were lodged, none more so gruesome than the one in his lower back, the bullet that made balancing his upper body weight on his spine and pelvis like trying to balance a wood board on a small marble---the bullet that did something to him.

Something that Tatsunokuchi nor he could fix in time.

His first step was awkward. Both legs felt like they were barely there or had the consistency of pillow fluff. Focusing on what was in front of him other than Gorou, the egress of the portal and the daylight of Seireitei looked to him like a haven compared to the frosted swamp or the barren city or even the halcyon lake he found Sayis in. And, without needing to be said, ten times more so than Dunan.

Squinting as he limped along, Manzou saw the Kidoushuu members lining evenly on either side of the gate.

“I have a message for Isshisouden Tedika,” the Herald panted, speaking loud enough for one of the masked demon arts specialists to turn his head. “From Captain-Commander Inuzuri Sayis.” He spoke with a certain flatness to his tone, looking and walking past the man even as he finally crossed into his ethereal realm. “‘The secret to redemption lies in remembrance.’”

The Kidoushuu cocked him as quizzical a look as the typically-stoic masked men could offer before nodding curtly at Manzou and turning his gaze back blankly ahead. Witnessing the acknowledgment, the Herald continued on, his pace undeterred---and his head hung low in his chest. The Herald strode past the medical attendants from the Fourth Division looking concernedly at the large gashes and trails of dried blood beneath the holes burned into his body.

His steps carried him north---directly away from Third Division grounds and towards the Coordinated Relief Station of the ‘Fourth---his head hung low and his eyes glossy.


[522/1,971]​



Sorry, Fanny, for me/us not letting you get your input on the little tete-a-tete we had there. But, yeah, Manzou's gone.​
 
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By the time Gorou recognized that Manzou had found the recipient of the message, he’d already traveled some distance away. Whatever message needed to be delivered hardly concerned him, and given his mood he could hardly keep himself still.

Seeing Manzou limp towards the fourth division grounds, and subsequently the trail of blood he left, he felt the need to move forward once more. Like an animal that had just caught the scent of blood, he couldn’t take his mind off of battle. Whether he tried to move forward or dive through the gate, he was finished with suppressing his desire to fight.

The sound of clinking armor appeared nearby, and before the ginger reaper could react, Gunshin’s armored bulk appeared before him.

“Surprise, samurai,” it grunted and reeled back its fist. Armored fist connected with cranium, and with that the reaper was knocked unconscious.
145 [1847] FINAL​
 
Ishin looked down the path that had been pointed out to him. Every bone in his body told him to go that way. Every ounce of him knew that he needed to go to where Lilith was. Every fiber of him wanted nothing more than to grab her and drag her back to Soul Society with him, even if it meant she would hate him for the rest of their time in the afterlife. Everything, that is, except his brain.

He made his way over to where the two women were trying to knock loose the beams. Putting his arm on Nana's shoulder, he drew his sword and released his shikai, the axe filling the room. Suddenly, the air around the beams seemed to shiver and shift, like it was going in several different directions. Which , technically was wrong. It was the dust that was going in different directions. It was falling in different directions, to be exact. HE used his gravity altering powers to shift the weight around, letting the beams seem like they were falling sideways.

"If you swing at them, let me know. i will change the flow of gravity so that your sword strikes will be more effective. Maybe this way we can make faster headway. Also, maybe it will let us conserve a little more power. Who knows what's on the other side of these things."

WC: 232
 
“Sixth Seat Kagetoki, stop!” one medic hollered out, striding closely behind the disheartened Herald as he crossed the bridge connecting the metropolis of the First Division to the bleak plateau of Sokyouku Hill. “Your wounds need to be tended to!”

The raven-haired man didn’t respond, stubbornly keeping his lips in a flat line and firming each step as much as he could with the grams of metal lodged in his body influencing his every movement. The rest of his veil stiffened forcibly, only his brow twitched with every painful footfall. Soon enough, blood began to let from the unclosed exit and entry wounds and, just as quickly, his balance left him. One knee slapped against the wooden planks of the bridge, managing to hold his weight only for a split second before his upper body collapsed over it and to the floor.

The attendants of ‘Fourth sighed and shook their heads, looking upon the sprawled officer with a mixture of pity and confusion. Finally relenting, Manzou laid out on his back and let them go to work.

The faces of Gorou and Arashi staring at him trod pathetically away before they themselves turned and crossed back to Dunan played over and over in his mind as he stared blankly at the clear sky. Nana, Tsubaki and Ishin moving forward undeterred and determined as he once was bit at him. All the others of the Gotei advance force that had come here before gnawed away at his pride, took away what little strength he had to move his limbs.

He didn’t want help, didn’t think he needed help despite the pain. They needed help.

But how...?

A silent moment spent in pensivity passed as the medics toiled away, before the Herald jerked his body upright, both eyes widened to their extents.

“Call the ‘Fifth!” Manzou demanded fervently, his head and gaze floating back and forth aimlessly.

“...What?” one healer let fumble from her lips.

“Call the ‘Fifth, dammit!” he shouted impatiently. “Tell them to send as many as they can through the gate! Tell them they need to seal off the south corridor!” Thinking his rant nothing but an incoherent product of his debilitated state, the medics looked around at each other puzzledly before Manzou roared again. “Just do it!”


[379/2,350]​
 
One of the medics stepped to the side, looking sideways at the Herald. Reluctantly they reached into their uniform and produced their phone. “Someone check his head while I call the Fifth. I don’t wanna send a buncha those guys out here ‘cause the patient is a bit touched in the head.” While the one healer punched in a combo of numbers, another went to work looking over Manzou’s head.

“Hey, yeah, I got the Sixth Seat of the Third here saying he needs a buncha y’all down here to seal of a south corridor or something.”

“...”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“...”

“I’unno, hold on, some of the others are looking him over.” Pausing, the medic turned to look at Manzou and got a thumbs-up from one of the other medics.

“No he’s good, just beat up all rough like.”

“...”

“Yeah. Looks like you’ll be going after your captain as far as I can tell.”

“...”

“Alright, I’ll let him know.” Shutting their phone, the medic turned back to the Sixth Seat. “They’re going to be here in a bit. Said the guy in charge is going to be a little guy named Orin something-or-other. They’re getting a group together as fast as they can as well as getting permission to use Charon’s Road to get out here quicker. That good eough for ya’ Sixth Seat?”

[352]
 
Orin had been preparing to meet with the mystery Wise Man as indicated, now as the hour drew closer when Raifuku’s weapon would be once again turned on innocent lives when the call came in. Founders, as many as possible, were needed at Soukyoku Hill. With a deep breath and closed eyes, the shinigami prepared himself for, he feared, the worst.

Perhaps most striking about Orin was not the somewhat untidy strawberry-blond nature of his hair or the strange determination in his features as he stood in front of the others, but the fact that he wore on his arm, with significant pride, a Talos, a symbol of the Peacekeepers with its crest replaced with the runic circle of the Fifth hugged by a laurel. To say things were hectic didn’t do it justice: it was like chaos theory with shovels. People popped out of holes in everything and hustled and bustled about, creating new corridors and closing old ones, almost at random but with a sense of purpose that convinced Orin that if he could see the entire division at once it probably made a lot of sense.

“Hey,” he called out to no avail. He tried again. Finally, in frustration and falling back on his Peacekeeper days, he simply struck the shoulder-guard of his old division, causing a ringing that made everyone stop for a moment and listen; “I want every skill the Founders have to offer, especially earthmovers and jumpers. Charon’s Road is incoming, get moving.” He didn’t wear the role of leader often, or well, but he damn sure wasn’t about to let anything happen on his watch.
---​

Orin walked through the First Sekaimon with a steady stream of shinigami behind him. He looked probably more serious than he had in his entire life until this moment, and was almost immediately surrounded by a couple dozen of his fellow Founders. A few, perhaps three or four, produced shovels as per Orin’s orders and began to dig a hole at the entrance to the Sekaimon. The others stood prepared themselves as the Jumpers among them, Orin included brought them great distances toward the nearest cluster of reiatsu, and friends or foes.
365 Words
365 Total​
 
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The Herald smirked ungraciously as he fell with immense relief back to the floor, his head tapping heedlessly against the wood. Both eyes closed and one hand was laid over his lids, the exasperation of the events of the past few hours finally beginning to filter from his blood. For all the Sixth Seat knew, it could’ve been more than hours or days; with all the time Manzou had spent unconscious since stepping through the world gate the first time, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed since then.

The arm holding his hand up was pulled back indignantly as the members of the Fourth prodded and poked at him, wrapping his body in white cloth almost all over. As much as the raven-haired man didn’t like beating a hasty retreat, didn’t like the feel of metal instruments digging into his wounds or having them dressed at all, there were no other options for him.

Afloat on his thoughts, it wasn’t until the look had been cast on him for a while that Manzou registered the grimness in the medical attendants’ eyes.

“What...?” he asked.

No one responded immediately, casting the troubled look on him in silence as if waiting for him to speak.

“...don’t you feel that?” one medic asked.

One raven brow was raised as Manzou lifted his head meagerly and looked down at his body, both eyes bursting wide open as his eyes locked on what she was shivering over---the Magill forceps device lodged deep into the bullet wound on his upper thigh.

The curious bend to his brow increased. “D... what do you mean w---?”

“We didn’t give you an anesthetic...” she interceded. The bend softened as the realization---or at least the possibility---slowly sunk it. “...there’s... no way you wouldn’t be able to feel that otherwise... unless---!”

In the middle of her sentence, a speck of pungent liquid hit Manzou in the face, making him jerk in reaction. Just as quickly, all color in his vision became a blur and lethargy washed with palpable force through his body. What resistance he tried to throw it at failed him outright. Like his legs, the rest of the Heralds body went completely limp as he fell unconscious.

The girl gasped and turned her head. The man responsible pulled a small hand cloth from his medical kit and wiped the Shinten from Manzou’s cheek before speaking purposefully, “We need to get him to the Relief Station right right now.” They were all thinking the same thing. “As soon as the members of the Fifth get here, we’re taking Charon’s Road back.

“Call ahead and tell them to prep for emergency surgey.”


Final (forrealzdistime) [443/2,793]​
 
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After what seemed like hours on end of gravitational pulling, wind slashing and fire punching from the unlikely trio of shinigami, the last of the beams blocking their path into the 'real' control room finally gave way.

Nodding softly in both Tsubaki's and Ishin's direction, the three of them passed through the newly opened up corridor.

[55/1940]
 


After what seemed like ages of walking through the dark tunnel, the petite Mystic found her way to a populated area, much to her relief. At least, that was what the sounds told her. Voices, muffled voices and small figures from afar-- heavens, she could only with they were allies. The woman was in a fairly better state than she would have, thanks to Vice Captain Emaru, but seeing her company definitely didn't make her feel any better. She didn't know what they were, and it left a mass of anxiety inside her.

Pursing her lips in reluctance, she gathered the spiritons at her feet and stood still, concentrating on the far, far distance ahead of her.


117
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p.s. hi~

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In a burst of sudden intensity, those dealing with the problem of heavy metal obstructions were joined by two dozen men and women of the Fifth Division, with at least another half-dozen following behind. Orin, standing roughly in the middle of this cluster of unexpected faces, ordered with hand gestures alone two of the Fifth’s earthmovers to lend aide to the people attempting to clear the obstruction, shifting the earthen walls and floor around the metal to make its dislodging far easier a task. Of course, as if to somehow diminish the arrival of two dozen shinigami, the last beams were cut through as Orin gave the order, and he just waved his earthmovers off dismissively.

He then bowed, assuming that the sudden appearance of a massive force of shinigami would catch some attentions, and offered salutations; “Captain Katsuji, Vice Captain Amaterasu,” he stood back properly and looked from one to the other ”Orin Dougherty, Fifth Division. How might we render assistance?” For being essentially combat engineers, the Fifth certainly were well adapted to helping in this situation, all that remained was finding out just what this situation was to begin with.
190 Words
555 Total​
 
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