[PM] [Hueco Mundo] Week 203: The Only Freedom

Redfin · Jan 2, 2012

There were so many conflicting reports and so many false messages. Who was really winning? What was really going on? Why was Picca's right eye hurting so much? She reached up and rubbed it but that didn't help or make it worse. Her senses were at a great failing today but someone's worked fine, the creator of this madness. Until she could get a handle on things, the best course of action was to react only.

The shivering shinigami's spirit energy raised just a pitch. Her entire body felt better. It was like how on a cold day, an unmoving body will only get colder but an active one will get warmer. Her inactive body had actually been making the situation worse. Now though, her trembling stopped and so did the static in her mind. She could still hear the clear whisper of madness but she just ignored it as best as possible.

IMINT, where's the location of the strongest spiritual energy?

There was no response but her visor automatically changed camera to show a fighter. Picca couldn't be certain so she had to trust in IMINT. Even though the zanpakutou spirit couldn't respond directly, it was still following orders so for certain, it was still there.

Zoom in, on the eyes. And create another camera. I'm feeling rather fine right now.

Picca shuddered a bit at the monstrous yellow eyes of the lord hollow. This was something she didn't want to do but who was she to ignore the cries of her eye? Underneath the eye patch, something began to change. Whatever was once there had was gone and had been replaced by a yellow orb, the exact same one that belonged to the vasto lorde. It was time to go sightseeing.

Also IMINT, drown out all the noise, play Legendarisk ØI.

[917]

That's right, I put it up at the end.

Feat used

Yes, I am trying to hitch a ride on the vasto lorde's eye. This is not going to be pretty. Someone let me know what happens :?

Inks · Jan 2, 2012

As long as he didn't let himself think – as long as he gave himself in to the simplicity of fighting, the thrum of magic beneath his fingertips and the burn of energy, of ideas given physical form – Mitsuyo found that his body was able to move without hesitation. He struggled to keep the line of hollows from pressing forward any more than they already had, wielding a litany of chants and spells as surely as swordsmen wielded their blades; the same two words repeated themselves in his head, steadily driving him forward.

Protect them.

He was trying, damnit!

Protect them.

But why the fuck were there so many? This wasn't right. The numbers didn't add up. Sure, this was Hueco Mundo, a ton of hollows was to be expected, but where the hell had all the shinigami come from? This was never supposed to be a war, it was a goddamn scouting mission for fuck's sake. They hadn't brought an army with them. Something wasn't right...which meant something was—

As long as he didn't let himself think, he could move forward.

Mitsu had a bad habit of thinking.

The redheaded shinigami stumbled to a stop, his boots kicking up sand the color of fresh snow. Ataru coiled around him, close and protective. In front of him was a woman with vivid red eyes.

"Are you sure you're a shinigami?”

Her hair was roguishly short, and dark. Brown or black. She was wearing a form-fitting sweater vest, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a line of tribal tattoos trailing down her forearms, and a pair of scuffed blue jeans. She was stained with blood.

"Hell, are you sure you're a boy?”

Pain speared through Mitsu's head, striking suddenly and without mercy.

No, no,

NO.

"Do me a favor, kid? Die.”

He watched her mouth form the words, heard her voice in his ears, and still didn't believe it. If she attacked him, would he bleed? If she killed him, would he die? After all, she was already dead.

Through a haze of fear and nausea, Mitsu pressed his palms over his eyes. Wrong. This was all wrong.

If something isn't right, it means something must be wrong.

The woman's image wavered in front of his eyes; a mirage; a trick of the light.

What—

And that was when a voice broke through to Mitsu, carrying over the din of battle.

"Shinigami of the Gotei Thirteen, keep your wits about you!”

Mitsu was staring down a nightmare; if he made a move – so much as took a step – he was afraid the world might come apart at the seams. His wits were long gone.

"Templars, remember Tokyo!”

He already had.

"Able bodies to the outside, spell casters and the injured to the interior! Stay together, work together. And for the love of God, disregard that annoying voice that keeps yapping about a Senkaimon! There is no, Senkaimon yet.”

There was no Senkaimon.

Then were the hell was everyone going?

What the hell, Mitsu wanted to know, was going on?

Protect them.

Who the fuck was he supposed to protect if he couldn't even trust what he was seeing?

Christ, what if he was...all those hollows he'd been attacking...what if they were—?

"Coward,” sneered the echo of a dead woman.

Hallucination, he sneered back.

Mineto.

I know. Mitsu turned his back on the bloodied figure and scowled. Hard.

The shinigami didn't need to 'gather together'. They didn't need to 'regroup' or 'go on the defense' or do anything but get the hell out of there before they all ended up dead as shit. Did the others honestly think they were going to hunker down and outlast the entirety of Hueco Mundo?

But...where...?

Where the fuck were they supposed to go? Everywhere he looked, the hollows had them surrounded. The shinigami forces (they didn't have forces, they had a small scouting team, damnit) were scattered, and unless they figured out what was real and what was not...

Kyuto.

Where was Kyuto?

There was no way the hollow horde had them this pinned down without Kyu being somewhere nearby, rending them apart. She had vanished to the north, hadn't she?

If he could trust her—

If she had cleared a path—

If they could retreat...get some space between them and the hollows (especially that bastard that was fucking everything up)—

Mitsu looked north and saw nothing but an army of white-masked demons.

And he had to wonder which he trusted more right now – his own eyes...

or Kyuto's word.

"Shit,” Mitsu bit out.

Then he launched himself into a flash step.

"Mineto Mitsuyo, Eighth Seat of the First Division,” he reported in a flurry of sharp, panic-tinged words the moment he reappeared. He barely took note of the healing kidou pouring into his mind as he stepped up to Makoto Matsumara, the captain of the Fourth Division and the only person Mitsu knew to appeal to right now. Everyone else was fighting for their lives. "You're being an idiot,” he blurted out.

Double shit. That had not come out right at all.

"Ugh, no, sorry!” He hastened to explain, tongue nearly tripping over the words in his rush to get them out. "What I mean is, we can't stay here. Captain. Sir. Not unless we all plan on dying. We need to get away from these hollows, get a Senkaimon open and get out of here, because we're getting our asses kicked here. North.” Ever helpful, Mitsu jabbed his finger in the appropriate direction. "Tounyuu Kyuto, Seventh Seat of the First Division, is clearing a path to the north; we retreat to the north, put some distance between ourselves and the hollows, and get out of here.”

The redhead trailed off, breathing hard. His heart thudded heavily in his chest.

"...Was....what I was thinking,” he added awkwardly.

{960 / 2115}

=T

Divine Truth · Jan 3, 2012

"I can't say this is the first time I've been accused of being an idiot," the nobleman replied dryly. He looked down at the boy who identified himself as Mineto Mitsuyo, appraising him, trying to get an accurate gauge of the brash young officer.

"The thing is, we're not gathering to make a stand, but to refortify our force so that we can survive until we can be extracted. We're being pulled apart, divided."

This is one of your's, Sayis? I don't doubt your leadership or training methods, but let's see the resolve you've instilled in this boy.

"Tell me Mitsuyo-kun," the captain continued in a light tone that was completely and totally out of place on a raging battlefield. "Do you think it wise to run in an open field from an enemy you aren't able to accurately locate? Are you confident enough in what you are seeing and hearing to take the lives of others in your hands? Are you sure you wouldn't lead your compatriots right down the throat of some huge hollow, thinking it was a cave or something?"

[183/2453]

Inks · Jan 3, 2012

"And who is going to extract us? Are we waiting for divine intervention now?” Mitsu retorted, unable to curb his tongue (that, at least, was nothing new). "There aren't any forces to refortify, sir; we were sent here as scouts, not as a freakin' anti-hollow army, and if we don't do something then there isn't going to be anyone left to extract. Maybe it's not smart to run from an enemy we can't see...but is it any smarter to try to defend against an enemy we can't see?”

Mitsu's eyes swept the mess of a situation, taking in the scattered shinigami; the chaotic melee that their mission had deteriorated into. Confident? Matsumara was asking about his confidence?

How did he explain himself to this man? Battle had never been his area of expertise. Mitsu wasn't a fighter, and he sure as shit wasn't a leader, either. He was just...Mitsu. He filled out paperwork on most days. He could barely hold a sword. But if he had to choose between using his fists and using his voice, he'd choose the latter every time.

"Hell no I'm not confident in myself,” he finally said, returning his gaze to the hazel-green eyes of the captain. "That's why I'm not relying on what I'm seeing or what I'm hearing. I'm relying on them.” He jerked his head in the direction of his fellow shinigami, where they were fighting for their lives. "My eyes, my ears, fuck, my own hands might betray me; but if Tounyuu Kyuto swore to me that we would get out of here alive, then I will put my faith in that, sir.”

The redhead pressed a sweat-dampened hand to his forehead and sighed. "I just...I need to know what we're doing. I'm not in the position to make that sort of decision, and there are shinigami out there that need us, either way. Er...Captain. Sir.”

[320 / 2435]

Apeiron · Jan 3, 2012

"You are absolutely correct, Mineto-kun.” Haresuno had turned tail and run straight for Makoto after his dance with Kyuketsu’s attacks, and sweat was very visibly dotting his forehead. He wasn’t too sure what had made him go to the Fourth Division captain, perhaps it was the idea of being nearest the person who could patch you up if suddenly spliced in two, but he was there now and trying very hard not to look for the vasto lorde. Stopping only a few feet away from his seated officer, Haresuno looked down at the young boy, Mistuyo. "Faith is a good thing to have, especially in dire situations like this, but there is always a way out. Always some sort of loophole, or tactic that you can use. There might even be a flaw to this enemies attacks.

"Take this as a short lesson: when debating what to do, when you provide an idea, you should always be confident. Even if you are wrong.”

Turning to the healer captain, Haresuno locked his cyan eyes with Makoto. "Captain Matsumara, if people do not start to regroup soon the vasto lorde will most likely begin to pick us off. I have a way to get everyone together if we absolutely must drag them, but because the nature of this vasto lorde is set in illusions I have no way to know positively who I am targeting. I might accidentally pull him here instead of Murayama or Reijuu.”

Breaking his eye contact from Makoto for only a brief moment, Haresuno checked the immediate area for a head count. Senesati, Tsubaki, Mitsuyo, and Makoto were all the closest (more than half of that list being inside Makoto’s bankai). Who did that leave to grab?

Kyuketsu, Ilsa, Griffin, Yuurei, Udo, Zak, Ito, Arashi, Shizuka, Picca, and Kibi-shi.

Eleven people or so from the roster, all under the influence of the madness and somewhere out in the battlefield. A few were close enough to simply run over if they wanted to, but they hadn’t moved since Haresuno had stated they should fall in. Maybe they thought his voice was part of the vasto lorde’s game - damnit he didn’t think that would be used against them! - and chose to ignore it. The remainder were out of Haresuno’s view, or so far out of the way that it was dangerous.

"If it comes down to me using that technique Captain,” Haresuno’s voice was low, ominous, "I don’t want to make mistakes with our people.€

[2028]

Beaks · Jan 3, 2012

Where

"You won't have to." A metal-plated hand rested firmly on the youth's shoulder, giving it a reassuring pat in the process. She was covered nearly head to toe in dried blood and beads of sweat, the vestments of Shinigami and Captain alike sticking almost like a second skin. The wisps of alabaster flame around the Templar Queen were almost pathetic in nature, the pittance of power that still remained of her former resplendence. "I don't have a whole lot left in me, but I've got enough to buy you lot some time."

She smiled, holding up a gentle hand to the unspoken objection Makoto had yet to voice. "I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it. We need to get the wounded out of here and consolidate our forces." She jerked a spirited thumb over one shoulder towards the ever-increasing horde of Hollows. "It's going to be difficult while trying to contend with that."

"I'm not going to die here, and if I can't protect everyone from the Vasto Lorde I can at least hold off everything else that's trying to kill us." The shield at her side opened like a steel blossom, giving Tsubaki what was sure to be an essential protection against the onslaught. "Get our people to a safe distance. I'll rejoin you once evac arrives."

You have exhausted your power in the middle of the most inhospitable place imaginable, and you believe this wise? The low rumble of the wyvern's voice filled her thoughts.

No, I don't. If anything this is possibly the most boneheaded thing I've ever done. The Captain managed a temporary smile, a cold comfort for what was about to happen. But it was the only way I could guarantee my strength would not be turned on my friends.

Noble, but suicidal. For all your talk against it you have developed a strange love for playing the hero as of late.

The smile faded. We're running out of time, and I have the power to give them this chance.

War eats its heroes, you know this.

Iron-banded fists closed ever tighter around the hammer and shield, standing firm as the amassed Shinigami continued their gradual retreat around her. As the faint remnants of the white fire slowly began to rekindle, two leonine irises stared into the sea of Hollows with disdain.

"Well then, I guess I'm going to make it spit me back out."

[407/1944]

Okay

Code of the Noble · Jan 3, 2012

Senesati arose from behind Tsubaki, an armored hand grasped the Templar Queen's shoulder as one word left his lips, "No," he said, his eyesight settling on what he believed to be the creature that terrorized him and his companions. "There's no sense in sacrificing yourself."

He docked his blade at his side. "We'll do this together,” he concluded.

A pale blue aura emitted from the noble's very being as he uttered the words, "Ban... kai.”

A savage wind swirled a bit of minor debris as the noble was focused on his target, yet his stance was not on the offensive. Although his hand was calmly wrapped around the hilt of Ouritsu no Kaihousha, Senesati was afraid that he'd make the same mistake twice and injure a fellow officer. With that said, he was unsure if the being before him was indeed the true Vastro Lorde. So, rather than making an attempt to attack the monster head-on, he decided to observe the situation a bit little longer.

[170/493]

statsnstuff

Wayne · Jan 4, 2012

"Honestly, what other choice do we have?” responded the lieutenant.

The pandemonium was simply overwhelming. Perhaps it wasn’t such a wise decision to release a Ban Kai right then and there... or better yet, maybe it was foolish to go against the Vasto Lorde in such a large group. Its presence, its aura—it made everyone vex and uneasy. Everyone was out doing their own thing whether it was conjuring up a method of escape or a strategy to combat the beast. Even Kyuketsu himself was losing his perception around him. He couldn’t recall exactly what happened after he fired his attacks. It was as if every succeeding event was but a distant and foggy afterimage of the last.

He turned his head towards Ryoujin, as he shook his head. "This won’t do. This won’t do at all. We need to get out of here... or at least, have the majority leave. The more people we have ‘fighting’ against that thing, the harder it is to actually do anything.”

Then again, every dumbass here apparently wants to be a hero and fight the Hollow head-on. What a mess, what a mess.

"Ryoujin, head over to the Senkaimon and help the other soldiers go through. Fucking shove them in there if you have to. The only thing we really can do now is retreat... and pray this monster doesn’t follow us.”

1,150

fucking this

Albinocur · Jan 4, 2012

'Zak...'

The Third seat swung his chained blades at the great hollow that faced him, the beast batted one blade aside and took the second across the chest never stopping its charge. Zak loosed his third blade as the distance between the two combatants closed. The hollow caught it in his remaining hand, and slugged the shinigami with...what?

'Zakeriah...'

He flew backwards several yards and tumbled once again through the white sands. This was staring to become a bad old habit. 'Didn't I cut off that arm?' He looked up at the demon to see that it indeed only had one. Zak stood, he was beginning to feel a little wobbly though his weapons still blazed with the energy of his powers.

"You think yourself strong shinigami? You are nothing that I have not made you."

"What?"

'ZAK!'

The hollow charged again, everything felt hazy, the hollow seemed almost a blur as it advanced.

'WAKE UP!'

Reality slapped him like a bucket of icy water splashed on someone sleeping in a warm bed. The demon was gone, and in its place was the Master standing and staring. No longer was she shrouded in shadow but standing on the shimmering waves of sand without disturbing the preciously fragile surface. She smiled at him, a smile that was just for him and Zak's legs gave out. He fell to his knees in awe of her glory. "...Master..."

'WAKE'

She came toward him with a slow sensual grace, her bare feet never once stirring a singe grain, and placed a slender hand against his cheek. Her touch was fire against his skin but it did not burn, instead it filled him with joy and fury all at once.

'THE FUCK'

"I exist to serve you Master." He whispered up at her. She smiled a smile of true joy. As with all things in the Master she was honest, she did not have any conniving, hatred, or sarcasm. All there was within her perfection was honesty.

'UP!!!!!!!'

The form of Iblis overrode that of the master, the apparition vanished in a swirl of black ink and instead of her glorious beauty Zak found himself looking into the great eye of his soul. The spirit's mouth formed with its shark-lined lips and it's chorus of voices rolled out. "Zakeriah, we do not serve her anymore." The eye glanced away, toward the gathered captains that were fighting against illusions themselves, one in particular. The shinigami followed Iblis' gaze to Tsubaki, the Templar Queen armored, bloodied, and tired. "She is our master now. We owe loyalty to none but her." The great eye looked back at the kneeling body that was it's partner. "Now stand. Stand and wake."

Zakeriah suddenly felt incredibly drained but his vision became completely clear, into the overly sharp focus that only came in the heat of battle, that gift of adrenaline that made everything seem to slow and give a fighter a moment to sort things out. His master did stand there, bruised and bloodied while he stood here wasting power fighting shadows. The teeming weak hollows were all around him but leaving him be, satisfied his his decent into the madness their lord provided. He hauled himself to his feet and turned his attention to Tsubaki and the others gathered close to the defensive center. "We have to get out of here before this creature dives us all into oblivion." He said to no one in particular.

[634/2558]

Cad · Jan 4, 2012

The ashen haze above the walker’s eyes whirled with the stream of dull sand blown through the wind. The lifeless matter looked almost like bone meal and rushed through the air above the supine Death God. Lifting himself from the ground, Kurohashi looked around as the mass of bizarre hollow swarmed about, as if driven mad by their own existence. The reaper looked down to notice that the mask, the prized trophy he had torn from his enemy’s very face, was missing. Feeling his chest, the masked figure looked down at his hands to realize there was no blood at all. Although the feeling of exhaustion and mental anguish still throbbed within, there was no visible sign that Kurohashi had been overtaken by the mass.

He had been fooled again.

It was bewildering, straining the mute Death God for any motivation he may have had left within. Even his animalistic instinct to hunt, the drive for hollow extinction, had been drained from him, replaced by the anchored weight of doubt. Looking around, the reaper could see his comrades barking out orders to one another, in sheer pandemonium. Even though the weight of reiatsu (or what seemed to be the weight) revealed how low on the totem pole Kurohashi actually was, he knew he couldn’t have been the only one being so easily manipulated.

Realizing that he was still holding his ready zanpakutou, the ominous man came to his feet and slowly backed up until he was standing near who he hoped to be his peers. If he could simply wait and avoid being overtaken by another episode of insanity, perhaps someone could come up with a plan for their salvation.

280/1319

Several Zombies · Jan 5, 2012

A feeble presence tugged at the edges of the Hollow lord's awareness; faint, but it was there. His fanged maw curled upwards in what one could only assume was a grin of satisfaction. It seemed his ruse had -- at least in part -- been revealed. Straining against his bindings, the antediluvian beast turned in the direction of the disturbance. He shouldn't know. He couldn't know. But somehow, it felt that he did.

He was death, insanity, malice incarnate. The Shinigami were staring into the heart of madness. Yellow orbs narrowed to slits as the aberration surveyed his domain, reveling at the souls around him who fumbled in ignorance as they were consumed by the dreaded beast. Their minds were tools, like putty in the creature's hands. A prod here, a poke there; the Hollow knew exactly how to break them...and yet they resisted. A few, it seemed, had even managed to free themselves of his madness, if only for a moment. No matter.

"You cannot escape your doom," he muttered, his pallid form writhing beneath the wraps that held him. "Nor will you forestall my revival."

And with a crack -- a bellowing, resonating boom -- the sands of hell were alight with crimson fire. The Vasto Lorde had made his move.

Wat

Apeiron · Jan 5, 2012

Senesati’s bankai layered itself on top of the already existing powers. The air around Haresuno didn’t feel any heavier than it already did from the other pressures that fumed, but it certainly was heavier in it’s own way.

Blood rushed to his head, and his vision swam. He forced himself to stand straight, to remain unwavering. "I would...” he stated plainly for the Templar Queen and the Enchanted Blade Captain to hear, "... rather you all wait to go die valiantly when it is a lot more certain you will take the enemy with you.”

"You cannot escape your doom," Haresuno heard the vasto lorde mutter, "Nor will you forestall my revival."

The adept’s eyes turned a hue of crimson, as the sea of sand became alight with the unnatural glow of a quicker, less deadly, but unmistakably powerful attack kin to the cero. A technique Haresuno had not seen, but only heard of in rumors. The bala.

Dangerous orbs hurdled too fast, too quick to react.

No! he cried out in frustration. His reiatsu gathered up around him, diving to the very core of his body, it washed over his every limb like cold water. Spinning around and around like a great whirlpool it sucked away all his pains, all his distractions and pushed them out. Every bug, every disease, every little toxin working inside his body was flushed out.

And so too was the madness.

"Don’t move!” he ordered. Haresuno was awakened to the reality of his comrade’s state. His attempt to protect himself had drawn on another effect he had not anticipated, but that did not matter.

He saw clearly how the other shinigami around him wobbled unsteadily, how their very own arms flailed helplessly through the air at the horde he knew wasn’t there.

He saw Tsubaki, covered in blood only seconds ago, as clean and pristine as when they had all left the Proving Grounds. Her eyes were distant, but focused, and Senesati’s held the very same look.

The barrier Makoto had erected as his bankai was barely holding together. A result from Kyuketsu’s devastating attack. He for the most part looked well, yet there were traces of the madness seeping in.

But what drew the unseated shinigami’s eye the most, was the kidou-wrapped enemy who had not moved an inch since the beginning.

Those horrid yellow eyes of the vasto lorde leveled with that of the captain-hopeful.

But Haresuno dare not reveal his hand yet.

Blinking as though he could not believe his eyes, Haresuno shook his head and looked around once more. He had their out.

"Captain Mabara, Captain Sensati, I need you to get everyone here. Don’t waste energy on anything but getting them here!”

[2481]

Lookatme!!!!

Nekomata · Jan 5, 2012

Everything was happening so fast, and that accursed drum was pounding in Ilsa’s head. It was getting hard to think. What was reality, and what was illusion? People were rushing around, some fighting the lesser Hollows, some trying to get to the source of this madness.

There’s a drumming noise inside my head

Great. Now she was hearing voices. At least the voice was a good singer. Come to think of it, Ilsa had heard this song before, on one of her Earth patrols.

That starts when you’re around

Focus. She had to focus. Why in the worlds was Haresuno defending the Vasto Lorde from Kyuketsu’s Kokuryuha? He must be under the creature’s thrall as well. Ilsa let out a pained groan. As if this situation wasn’t bad enough!

I swear that you should hear it

Eight black holes formed around the Vasto Lorde, with the final one in the center of its chest. Yes! The Kuyou Shibari had worked! A feral grin spread across her face. Now she, or another caster, could let loose with a really powerful hadou without fear of frying an ally. The black holes would suck in all of the energy, focusing the destructive force on the target.

It makes such an almighty sound

BOOM! Ilsa staggered at the force of the sound, clutching Hinometori’s shaft. Even as she struggled to stay upright, the sands around her burst into flame. This was no natural fire, not the honest yellow of a hearthfire or even the flames that occasionally devoured houses in Rukongai, the fires that her family and neighbors feared. This was a malevolent red, darker than Shakkahou. The red you would get if blood was turned to flame.

Louder than sirens

She screamed as the hem and sleeves of her uniform caught fire, trying to beat it out with her hands. It was no good; the fire was everywhere. Panic bubbled up through the walls of willpower and training, threatening to take control.

Louder than bells

No. No. If there was one thing Ilsa couldn’t afford to do, it was panic. The stink of burning hair filled her nostrils as the flames licked at the end of her treasured braid. Where could she go? What could she do?

Sweeter than heaven

A remembered voice joined the drumming song in her head, a man’s voice. The one that had saved her from certain death, or critical injury at the least, once before. Matsumara-taichou! The healer captain was here. He had the power to heal the scouting force’s injured (which would shortly include Ilsa), but only if someone was around to cover his back while he worked.

And hotter than hell

Ilsa burst into a shunpo, trailing smoke and fire. She distinctly remembered where he was, that moment of terror when she feared the Vasto Lorde would turn him against the rest of the shinigami. Protect the wounded. Matsumara-taichou had ordered them to help protect the wounded, for casters to move toward the center. Skin blistered, hair burned, but she kept going. He wasn’t too far away now... and suddenly, there he was.

"Matsumara-taichou!” She coughed on the smoke. "Reporting for duty, sir, what do you want me to do?” Her throat was painfully dry. "I put a Kuyou Shibari on the Vasto Lorde, if you can spare the reiatsu for a big hadou, that would be really great.”

491/2312
The song is "Drumming Song" by Florence + The Machine. Lyrics not counted.

Apeiron · Jan 5, 2012

"Sadly Vice-Captain that would be ill-advised,” Haresuno’s eyes snapped to the appearance of his vice-captain, who was surprisingly exhausted. Her attempt at holding the vasto lorde must have taxed her. I have to convince them through the madness. She thinks she’s bound him.

"At this point in time we are doing nothing except what the enemy wants us to do. In other words, it’s a trap. He wanted you to bind him. He has pushed us apart and is using our own fears of being devoured or defeated against us. What we must do,” he explained, "is regroup. Right now he is only a threat as long as you go along with what he does. Which is why we need everyone back together. Maruyama-san, please,” his eyes locked with her’s. Calm, steady, and burning with the intensity of someone who knew what they were doing. "I need everyone to trust me, I need you to have faith that I know what I’m doing,” he told her.

Looking at Makoto, Mitsuyo, and Ilsa in turn he declared, "He’s smart, I’ll give him that, but I’m clever.”

[2671]

Redfin · Jan 5, 2012

Picca shut her left eye so only the right one was open. That way, there weren't two conflicting points of view in her brain. She could see. She could see bala being launched, a whole salvo of them. It was strange since it seemed like she was the one firing them off but in reality, it was the vasto lorde. They blasts of energy zoomed outward at incredible speeds, kicking up sand wherever they landed.

"The seventy sixth way of binding, Mirror Door," Picca canted. She clapped her hands together and spread them apart, creating a glass looking dome of energy around her.

She fell onto her knees however and was clutching her left shoulder. The uniform there had been completely blown off by an energy bullet that had snuck through while the barrier was forming. Her skin was singed slightly and was painfully red.

Drops of blood also splattered onto the white sands, tainting them with her shinigaminess. She moved her right hand from the shoulder up to the source of the blood. It was not where the bala had hit. The blood was coming out from her nose and as they collected on the edge of her lips, her breathing sprayed them out. Her hand reached up to the right ear though. The weary shinigami couldn't see right now since her view was still that of the vasto lorde's but it definitely felt like blood. The other ear was bleeding as well. Her hand slipped off the visor and as it fell, she grabbed it.

It was just point of view but the vasto lorde's was eons different from anything she knew. The creature's way was incompatible with those that had lived for only a few scant centuries. Everything about its ways felt completely wrong to her. Picca's body and mind was struggling to handle the massive difference but she still kept the effect active. The reason was because she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Everything was-

[1247]

Was???

Shun · Jan 5, 2012

Still a bunch of chaos and pandemonium. And now fire, well, not quite. As the wasteland around them was filled with some sort of an ethereal conflagration, Ryoujin attempted to avoid having to come into its contact but found himself slightly singed by the crimsom flames. This might very well have been another illusion, but whether it was or wasn't didn't really matter to the pink-haired youth. He was more fixated on the fact that flames were all-too familiar.

As if sparked on by the madness going around, the combustion seemed to expand and grow. Multiple voices became drowned out, and he could no longer discern whether or not the voice within his head was his zanpakutou trying to establish some sort of connection with him or some sort of hallucination. One thing however was set firmly in stone.

...Die again in a fire? the Blood Templar thought, the only shred of memory of his past life as a human encroaching at a time when he really could use anything else but it. As fear gripped him, it seemed as if the hollow army had increased and attracted more brethren to come along. All of that effort earlier and striking down masked fiends... what purpose did it really serve? Although he could not particularly pay attention to where everyone was positioned at, in terms of a grid, they were practically still all over the place. Before long though, the realization settled in, and the pain coursing through his body was a clear testament of that.

He had been too fixated on the smaller picture and the immediate threat that he had not paid careful attention to how much energy and time that their forces were wasting. Damn it, remember Tokyo, remember Tokyo.

Back then, their victory was meaningless with all of the soldiers that sacrificed themselves for the cause. Right now, they were sacrificing their sanity...

As memories filtered through his mind, Ryoujin pushed back to fall into line. The ones who were more aware of their situation were up ahead and wanted to regroup from the looks of it. Naturally he had been letting instinct and experience guide his hand and that usually got the job done, but right now, he needed to place his trust in the more perceptive soul reapers.

As a shunpo closed the distance between him and those already forming the tortoise formation that was ordered, Ryoujin managed to hear the last bit of what the adept Arcanist had said. Holding a thumbs up for reassurance at Haresuno, the youth said, "...It may just be my mind in shambles, but you seem like you've figured something out chief. I'll trust you even if this may be our last chance."

[ 1600 ]

Go for it hare

Divine Truth · Jan 6, 2012

Berri <3

"I’ve already called the Third for extraction, thank you very... much,” the captain responded snidely. In that brief pause between words, Makoto moved like a flash, snatching the boy into a vice like head lock with his left arm. Soon after the hold was locked in, the healer’s right elbow dropped down onto Mitsu’s head with a muffled "thunk” and was dragged back and forth continuously and rapidly across the lump that was freshly created. "If you want to think of them as 'divine,' well that's up to you. That being said, I find it odd that we are still here. I don’t think it would be much of a stretch to assume that perhaps things aren’t quiet on the home front either.”

As the words left his mouth, a sense of dread settled into the pit of the nobleman’s stomach. What could possibly be going on back in Seireitei to delay their exit so badly? The possibilities were endless, but Makoto could not worry about that, not yet at least. Before that he would have to make it back there alive.

"At this point we need to summarize the situation at hand,” the healer captain began, still continuing his battery upon the Arcanist’s skull. Though seemingly engrossed in disciplining the mouthy shinigami in the most immature way possible, Makoto was aware of the gathering group of men and women around him and adjusted his volume accordingly. "We are faced with an enemy that has the ability to toy with our minds. Said enemy is bound to his current position by the efforts of Kaede’s Kin. There are no other hollows on the field aside of the vasto lorde. There is no Senkaimon on the field. If your eyes are telling you anything to the contrary, they are wrong. Once everyone is gathered in tightly I can help to clear things up for you so we can get to work on getting the hell out of here alive.”

Upon finishing his statement, Makoto let Mitsuyo go and gazed upon the state of his barrier. Just beyond it crimson flames were streaking across the pallid sands, setting them ablaze. Cracks were beginning to snake their way across the curved surface of the dome and being peppered with bala was not helping matters either.

It must hold, the nobleman intoned. Golden reiatsu began to billow from the healer’s form as he pushed out a healing wave of energy that quickly mended the cracks and breaks. Though it appeared easy enough, the effect of maintaining the barrier for so long, repairing it as needed, and casting various kidou spells on top of that was beginning to wear on him. Sweat was beading on his brow and his breath was becoming short.

Something had to give and give soon.

[465/2918]

Code of the Noble · Jan 6, 2012

The dignified sword shaman did not flex a muscle at Haresuno’s earlier empty order; instead he maintained his position with his armored hand still rested upon Tsubaki’s shoulder. The royal captain even though under the effect of Placebo, he was still unsure if what he saw was the truth or another illusion, but what he did know was that Makoto, Tsubaki and Haresuno were definitely the real ones.

His eyes shifted to the rest of the members nearby trying to endorse the authenticity of the others before acting; however, there was one problem, Makoto’s barrier. Senesati could sense the barrier that kept the Vastro Lorde out was beginning to fade.

A self-reassuring smile etched across the noble’s face as he now knew what he had to do.

He removed his armored hand from the shoulder of the Templar Queen and focused his spiritual pressure and power towards Makoto’s barrier and began pouring his spiritual energy into it, not only to repair it, but to increase its power.

"I am not sure how long Matsumura-taichou can keep this up, so if any of you want to escape with your life, you'd better take advantage of this field,” ordered the raven-haired captain.

[205/698]

Ability used on Makoto's barrier"

Beaks · Jan 7, 2012

"Templars!" Her voice cut across the battlefield like thunder, if thunder could be tired, ragged, and on its last legs. "Round our people up! In the barrier or as close as you can, that's an order!"

The faint flicker of white fire that surrounded the Captain had begun to grow more stable, daring to burn a little brighter with each passing second. The longer this asshole hides from us, the longer I have to actually recover. Though diminished in raw strength, the energies of the woman's Ban Kai held fast, the glimmering steel scales that covered her frame seeming to resonate with undaunted fury. If it comes down to it, I can stop a few more of those attacks, maybe spare Matsumara some headache in the process.

And then what? The guttural voice of her Zanpakutou spirit rumbled like a low and distant beast in her mind.

We get out of here. All of us.

And then? Do you even have a strategy for making it that far? Or after?

Sure do. And when we get home, I'm taking a fucking bath...I might just stay in the hot water for a whole damn week too. Amidst the chaos, Tsubaki managed a weak but modest smile. "Uchiharu, I'll stop any big attacks that creep sends this way." Her words were nearly as ragged as her body, both torn raw and bloody by the onslaught of sand and slaughter. "I'm the only one here who can take that chance. Makoto's got too many wounded to look after and you're going to need your strength for..." She skirted a quick glance over one shoulder at the boy, wondering where the self-assured aura of calm had been in the chaos of his Taishuu. "...whatever the hell you're gonna do."

"My boys will bring in the strays, and you're gonna need me here to take the hits." The battle-torn Captain dug her heels deep into the welcoming embrace of the sands, holding a readied stance in front of the healer's barrier. "If we live through this, you lot can drink on my coin for a month if you want to."

The momentary smile that had graced Tsubaki's lips vanished as her eyes and attention turned back to the chaos in front of them. Whatever Haresuno had up his sleeve was the best bet they had of escape, as the Gotei was proving unwilling or unable to send an emergency gate to their location. Good thing you love a challenge, Tsu.

"I'm not done yet you damn coward. Try and kill me again if you think you've got the strength in you!"

[436/2,380]

Orders

Albinocur · Jan 10, 2012

Tsubaki's voice cut through to him like a knife but for all Zakeriah knew it could have been an illusion as well. He glanced her way, the captains looked to be gathering around and though their pressure was waning he could feel the kidou barriers they had risen. Something in his gut, or perhaps Iblis again, did not waver as he looked their way, he felt that they were true....besides, even if he was wrong he doubted he could be in any worse of a situation than they were now. His Witch Fire faded from his blades as he gave a frantic glance to anyone close to him. His gaze fell to a small blonde that seemed completely lost in an illusion and maybe had wounded her eye. As far as he could tell she was closest to him and the one he had the best chance of helping. He rand over to her in as full of a sprint as he could manage in the soft sand and skidded to a stop beside her and grabbed her by the shoulder with his left hand.

"Hey kid, can you hear me? Snap out of it!" He gave her a gentle, but firm, shake. He didn't want to illicit a violent reaction but hoped it might wake her enough that he wouldn't have to throw her over his shoulder.

[231/2789]

(I'm talking to Picca!)

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