It was ethereal, like no one had ever seen before. Different pastel hues swirled around the skies in a complete haze, with nary a hint of neither peril nor hope in the horizon. There was only this vast place to meet the spectators' eyes, everything else beyond obscured by the massive overgrowth of foliage and flora, whether by land or by heavens. Everything was a flurry of colors, bright and beautiful on its own-- some spots emitted a bright cheery glow, while some seemed shadier than the break of dusk. There was a multitude of unidentified bioluminescent creatures fluttering about, leaving sparks on their trail without hinting what little surprises they held.
The trees seemed to whisper amongst themselves, and the glowing balls of cerulean seemed to watch one's every move, waiting for any disturbance on their peaceful abode. There were soft, irregular ripples upon the azure swamp's glassy surface, heading towards an indistinct direction. Still, even if one were to look closer, it seemed as if its strange depths held more, as if energy thrummed from within... as if it resonated with an indistinct object yet to be revealed.
Wading through the thicket of life, Okamii Igasho kept his blade in hand as the colorful flora surrounded him. The ethereal spectrum of light waved through the thin air in streaks of plasma-like trails. As the prisoner came to a clearing in the foliage, a serene pond became visible, inked with the rich colors of the world around it. The chameleon waters rippled as stranger insects flew over the surface and dipped into the world beneath for a brief second. Stepping over to the water’s edge, Igasho looked down into his reflection and noted the serenity of the world around him.
The assassin studied his surroundings for a moment before moving on, tuning into the primal existence that seem to resonate through the air and through the movement of each trace of life. The spirit within the blade remained silent as the reaper moved again, turning his gaze to the prismatic sky. Watching the environment for anything startling, the tall stoic walked through the enchanting forest.
"Looking for something, lad?" An ethereal voice resounded around the place, almost as mysterious as it sounded rather surreal. It was feminine, yet though her voice bounced off from tree to tree, it seemed as if she spoke nearby the bearded man's ear, seducing. There was a flowing mass of crimson tresses almost unnoticed from atop the trees, only a mere silhouette from the backdrop of a pastel sky.
The assassin’s eyes remained relaxed, slowly scanning the colorful treetops. The stoic turned his wrist back, keeping the kanji on the back of his hand out of sight. Without knowing who, or what, was within this plane, the Death God had to keep his cards close to his chest, so to speak.
Stepping along the water’s edge, Igasho’s bare foot lightly touched the chameleon liquid as he confidently strolled.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” the bearded warrior said softly. His tone was warm and inviting as he continued, “Yourself? Might you be looking for something...perhaps we could help each other.”
Although the inner spirit remained silent and rested within the zanpakuto, the untapped energy seemed to resonate within, as if waiting to be called upon. The tinge of vitality within the blade seemed to awaken the blood in the shinigami’s hand and then his arm. Quietly contending with the inner spirit’s rise to fight, the calculating man kept his composure.
"Oh, is that so?" The feminine voice spoke once more, quite amused with the man's statement. Without Igasho knowing, a sparkling red rose petal fluttered down from behind him, downwards to the soft emerald earth upon which the man stood. And where there was once only the specter of a voice and a lone little petal, now stood the silhouette of a woman, seemingly appearing out of thin air. "I am right here."
Bright, crimson tresses flowed beautifully on its waist-length waves, billowing gently with the slight breeze that accompanied her arrival, a somber expression painted in her eyes of red deep as wine. Still, there was a subtle hint of a smile on her red lips, though the feelings behind such a smile remains unknown. Her maroon shihakusho stood in stark contrast to her sickly pale skin, yet her poise suggested that she was not to be undermined for that stature.
The prisoner stood calmly as the smaller figure suddenly appeared behind him. Tilting his head slightly, he let his eyes catch sight of the pale woman and he turned toward her as he spoke.
As if in response to the woman a set of feet dropped softly onto the grass of the ethereal scene. The Third Seat clutched her side with a solemn desperation, and immediately she found a tree and slumped against it. Amaya could feel the other presences in the room, but her energies were immediately focused on the wound in torso. Flooding reiatsu through her hand into the wound using reik, Amaya tried to stop her blood from staining the blades of grass beneath her.
Closing her eyes, Amaya took a moment to breathe, reveling in the soft pain that was slowly starting to wain. For a moment she reached out her senses and found Igasho's now familiar reiatsu signature. At this point the Templar could only hope for more time to heal, but between Mealy's spell restoring her strength and the pain in her torso dulling she knew if anything happened in this room she'd be ready.
Amaya's showing up after her time alone with Hotate...
Igasho could suddenly feel Amaya’s presence, her reiatsu somewhat restored to what it had been only (what felt like) moments ago. Keeping an eye on the crimson-clad woman, the prisoner couldn’t help but wonder if it was even worth putting Amaya in a position to deal with the unknown shinigami.
It seems like the only way through these rooms in eliminating these...people. They’ve either been promised illusions of grandeur, sworn fealty to Raifuku, or they’re merely creations of our own mind...which are somehow being manipulated.
Eying the woman’s hand for kanji, the former assassin gripped his blade, realizing it wouldn’t matter whether or not she had a mark.
“It appears the only way for us to leave and find who we are looking for is by forcing our way through these places. I don’t know if she or I are who you are waiting for, but you have the misfortune of having found me.”
Igasho swung his blade up, swiftly carrying an underhand swipe, intent on splitting the woman from navel to neck.
And that swing caught nothing but a fluttering mass of petals, floating away as the wind trailing the man's attack swept between them.
"I found you? How funny. I believe it was you who walked straight to me. Don't pass on your misfortune, lad." Her voice echoed from tree to tree, and it was almost near to impossible to tell from which direction it came from. For Igasho who stood out in the open, at least.
A slight trampling upon the leaves heralded her reappearance on the patch of earth nearer to Amaya, right near a group of wildflowers that beautifully pulsated to life as soon as it felt her presence around it. Turning around, she faced the woman fully, showing no intent to initiate an attack. "How about you, lass? Are you just as willing to shed unnecessary blood like that man over there?"
Amaya's eyes stared past the woman. Her hand was still firmly grasped on the wound in her abdomen, and she took a second to respond.
“What answer would you expect from someone in my position?” Amaya frowned, and held her free bloody hand up for the pair of women to see. “Even if I was the kind of woman to attack unnecessarily, do you think I'd tell you that now, as I sit injured in front of you?”
The Third Seat couldn't hold back the tension in her voice, she had just been attacked by another without provocation, and she felt empathy for the scarlet clad woman. But everything in this maze just seemed off, and being in such a weak position made her feel very vulnerable.
“Tell me,” Amaya's attention shifted to keeping the mysterious woman talking, “what exactly is your intention here in Fukushin's maze?”
[151/208]
"I am here simply to wait, and stand my ground if need be," she spoke softly, so that only the Templar could hear her voice. "To protect this place and guard it well, I presume, until someone seeks to destroy its peace... and mine."
There was a subtle hint of a wicked smile hidden beneath her crimson lips, indicating her clandestine readiness to retaliate for any incoming attack.
The prisoner could feel the growing pressure, the strain of time seeping away, as each second passed. A sense of urgency suddenly coiled around the assassin’s soul, squeezing him and pressing him to move forward, to find a way from that place.
...summa hrma mmrm hassan ...assu...Peace...
The echo of the spirit’s words seemed to resonate with the vibrant scenery that flooded the assassin’s peripheral and the elegant woman that held his direct attention. Her crimson robe had easily moved from where his blade intended to cut through and, as she stood before Amaya, the brawny warrior’s target changed. Turning, blade coming upward and aiming for the back of the stranger’s neck, the former officer’s efforts showed that he wouldn’t waste his time with her.
Amaya's mouth opened to respond to the woman, maybe to ask if she could move on, maybe to ask what she was protecting in this place, but the lumbering form of Igasho cut the conversation short. She felt a flash of urgency as his blade swung, and she couldn't help but wonder if he remembered the sting her blade slicing his flesh as the fought Dirge.
Releasing the wound in her side, Amaya rolled from her position on the tree, and clamored to her feet, pulling the pale gray blade of Sloth from its sheath. For an instant she thought to Mealy healing her wounds, and letting her move on to follow her new found companion.
“Igasho!” her voice sounded through the effervescent scene, “why are you attacking someone who's shown us no threat? Did Mealy or I attack you, is it really that easy to draw your blade when only one person has attacked us so far?”
[160/368]
Sorry, crazy week at work, I'll be more responsive now...
With a mastered grasp of her blade, the woman unsheathed her crimson-hilted broadsword from its place in one fluid motion, and turned on her heel to parry the bearded man's attack just in time before it ripped through her ivory skin. The harsh clang of metal against metal resonated through the once serene place, and the wild squawks of birds in flight heralded their awareness to the impending danger.
"Eager. Too eager for your own good, warrior," she hissed from behind the blade, narrow eyes revealing her maroon irises that spoke only of contained fury, and perhaps even a little bit of mild amusement. Two unlikely, but nonetheless a dangerous combination.
In a quick flash step, the woman flitted from her quagmire, leaving a burst of red rose petals in her wake. The woman moved back to the swamp's edge and whispered through her parted lips. "You asked for this, lad. There's no backing down now."
With a faint smirk on her harlot-red lips, she whispered once more. "Bloom."
In the instant the Igasho’s blade came to meet nothing, the frustration of a failed attempt rose to the back of his mind. With a heave of strained breath, the reaper turned his cautious eye to follow in the woman’s floral wake. The beauty of the petals seemed to litter the air, almost leading the prisoner’s thoughts to believe she couldn’t be the enemy. The stoic knew, however, this was nothing as it seemed and, for he knew, even the Templar could have been a manifestation of his own (or someone else’s) thoughts. Regardless, in the moment she vanished, Igasho put his back to Amaya, standing between she and the crimson-clad woman.
“She didn’t come here with us,” Igasho said, turning slightly to speak over his shoulder. “Nothing tells me she’s not our way out of here, just like Dirge...” Igasho’s eyes traced the strange woman’s hand, looking for the Kanji, “...and if I’m wrong, we have one less person to worry about getting to Raifuku first.”
The woman spoke the words that any shinigami could understand, regardless of the actual sounds. She called up a dormant strength that would set their destiny in motion. The bearded warrior steadied his feet and braced himself.
“So be it,” Amaya's jaw set, as she muttered her response to Igasho. She shifted the face the woman, waiting for her next move. Her eyes never fell on her companion's, but at this point the two would fight side by side once again. She had never been one to shy away from a fight, no matter how it started or still throbbing wound in her abdomen.
It wasn't the woman, however, that they should have been wary of.
Mere seconds before the rose petals dropped to the emerald grass beneath, its hue turned redder and redder by each passing second. Until the verge of wilted-red. Until it blazed to life, leaping to a blaze of fiery crimsons and golds, bursting one by one in a magnificent chain reaction.
The petals drifted peacefully to the ground, unassuming in every way, until they burst into an emblazoned trail, wrapping around both the Gotei soldiers. The fire spat at their flesh, flames licking at the assassin’s shihakusho and eating through to the skin. The burly warrior stared on at the unknown woman while the jets of fire sprang up in her wake.
Perhaps she was a shinigami, like the woman before her.
Igasho was briefly stunned by the noble voice within.
You-
The spirit saved the speech that they had no time for.
It is not my voice that you cannot understand.
Igasho could only react in the moment, leaving no room to think on what was going on with his inner spirit. Leaping through the wave of flames, the former officer whipped his blade in an arc toward the woman, calling on his own strength.
“Live again, Lord Yadokai!”
As his reiatsu pulsed from within, the man’s blade transformed and sought its’ target.
Amaya felt an overwhelming sensation of heat and ecstasy as the flames licked at her skin. She had always felt a special joy in sensation of burning. The searing pangs and stench of burning flesh reminded her of the night her family died, it always made them feel closer.
As her senses warmed with the pain, she sought Igasho, whose burly body was making a large wake through the flames. She felt alive in the constant heat, but she knew her body could only handle it for seconds, and in a flash she followed Igasho's movements, using the path he made to shield her from further harm as she waited for her own chance to attack.
