This is a collab for anyone with a vizard PC or NPC. They all received a note giving them the coordinates to a warehouse in a rundown district of Tokyo, so y'all enjoy now!
Shukumei waited for what seemed like a long time but was barely a few hours. By the time he had gathered together previous and current known contacts earlier on in the day, it had reached evening and so he had no choice but to wait. The amount of people he had spoken to and asked favours of - fortunately his generosity while working in Cerberus meant he had enough people owe him favours to pull off his little stunt. He just hoped all of that organisation was worth it.
The sky gradually turning from blue to black, the young copper-haired vizard leaned against the wall of the warehouse and folded his arms. At the very least Toki would be there, since he had been given the chance to ask her in person. Most of the others that had been passed the message he had never even met before, some of them he had not even known about before that day. People will come, he reassured himself. They will come.
And so he waited. As night crawled in the day began to come to an end, he waited for the other masked ones to gather.
The first to arrive was a man thought to be lost to the afterlife. However, in many ways, this was true. It was indeed the fact that the man who once was the proud Ephor of Athena’s Echelon, the very same echelon the new ragtag leader of the vizards belonged to, was truly dead. Though, even if it was through appearance alone, Absolon Leveque entered the warehouse.
Then again, much had changed in his self-imposed exile from Earth. He had sought, no had been cursed to seek refuge in the shifting sands of Heuco Mundo. It was not to protect himself, but to protect those around him until he was capable of taming the beast that lived in the recesses of his mind. Years had changed him, for better or for worse. His hair was longer, ragged and falling down to chin length. Numerous scars covered his body from the struggles he faced in the land of the hollows.
The Frenchman wore a dark-brown jacket, accompanied by a pair of black jeans. Underneath was a tight-fitting white t-shirt, revealing much of the muscle-tone that he had gained over the past years. Three silver necklaces of alterative lengths were around his neck, charms lining the metal. To his side was his sheathed zanpaktou.
However, as the brown-haired man entered, a sense of disappointment crossed his face. “It’s you,” he said simply, before leaning back against a nearby wall, “Not the one I was expecting at all.”
Night had just befallen the ever energetic city of Tokyo, Japan. It's bright lights and buzzing streets were filled with an almost magical glow of beauty. Neon dotted most of the buildings off in the distance as the small vizard made her way to the warehouses in a shipping district that the last of her kind visited ever so often.
Despite living with Shukumei, Toki hadn't known he had anything planned until the night before when he told her about the gathering he was organizing with possibly other vizards. The thought of it was almost exciting, but at the same time she was nervous, what if nobody showed up?
The redhead entered the structure and sighed inaudibly when noticed that someone else had actually shown up, even if the man appeared to be disappointed about something. At least it showed that there were more of them to be found out there.
Tokiwa flashed a quick smile in Shuku's direction before taking a place leaning her back against a steel pillar while they waited to see if more would show.
The copper-haired vizard kept his eyes fixed on the man with the French accent as he approached. The man looked tired, very tired, and that was expressed in his comments. Before Shukumei could respond, he caught that familiar figure in the corner of his eye and passed an unreadable gaze to Toki. As soon as she grew close enough, he turned his focus back to the Frenchman. He knew the man by face, definitely, but could not recall his name.
"I'm sorry," were the first words that left his mouth, a calm almost somber tone. It was evident that he had left his emotions hidden behind that mental barrier, like he did when he felt it was necessary. "The old tyrant of the Athena echelon and Imperator of the Army of Masks is dead, and ever since we've been scattered like foxes, hunting and running to survive. Something has to change."
After passing a swift smile to Toki, he returned his view to the road out of the district longingly. Is this all of them? Really? he thought to himself, desperately. He couldn't believe that after all of the effort he had put into his contacts, only one he did not already know the whereabouts of had turned up. Well, he could always hope the others would appear eventually. Again, the other man present caught his mind.
"Forgive me, but your name escapes me. I'm Shukumei Junichi." He would have offered a handshake, but he would much prefer to puzzle out the familiar stranger before attempting too many niceties.
A sour expression remained on his face. The news of the death of Hisao Adachi surprised him, though he dared not to betray it through his emotions. “The old fart died? What was it? Did his senility cause him to stumble his way into a hollow attack? Or did the Central Forty-Six nab him in the end?”
The questions he asked were more the rhetorical type. Absolon was never the type of man that chose to dwell too much on the past. That much hadn’t changed. “Absolon Leveque. Hisao Adachi once mentioned you in passing to me. I was his second in command in Athena’s Echelon.”
The brown-haired man looked around, the amount that had gathered even less than a handful. “You seem to... lack his talent. When the old man summoned us, we’d show up as dozens in an instant. Where are Silas and Hotate?”
Absolon Leveque? Now that brought a few memories back. Shukumei was little more than a runt in Athena's Echelon when that man was Hisao's second in command. It probably wasn't worth mentioning the fact that this copper-haired runt gained the Frenchman's old position as Ephor months after his disappearance. Hisao didn't trust easily, but if he raised Shukumei to the same rank as the clearly more powerful Absolon, then perhaps he was a runt no more. With a grim expression, he continued to indulge the Frenchman's questions.
"The tyrant of Panacea and the tyrant of Artemis are both missing in action, along with most of the echelons themselves. They've been gone for long months without even a hint of appearance."
In honesty, it had been over a year and Toki was the only surviving member of the echelons, apart from himself, that he had witnessed until that point. He chose to ignore the man's comments on the manner of Hisao's death, it only brought reminiscences of the old echelon's humour back to him. They always spoke so carefree about death, because they had seen it and stared it down, each and every vizard.
"Come in the dozens? I doubt there are many more than a dozen of us left right now," the teenager continued, an ironic smile almost creeping onto his face but slinking out before it was noticed. "Which is why we are gathered here."
"Oh they're here, and there." A voice sounded from above the gathered. Sitting amongst the steel rafters of the warehouse sat a strange man, though one familiar to Shukumei.
Steely blue hair sat in a tightly-made braid, swept back and perched above bright turquoise eyes. His sleeveless shinigami attire was worn, and battered, but still worn proudly. A bright white overcoat clutched at his shoulders.
An airy laugh emanated from his lips briefly, and he continued. "Hotate keeps to herself, content to run a business venture of hers. Silas... who knows. The man may have disappeared into Hueco Mundo. Who can predict the actions of a convict?"
Then, he hopped down. Nodding to Shukumei and Tokiwa, he met Absalon's gaze with a certain joy. "Though it is good to see that we are not without some of our oldest. Such experience is hard-earned, Monsieur Leveque."
Offering a nod of respect, he stepped backwards to the edge of the group. "Gathering is all well and good, little Vizard, but such action could be seen as... suspicious... to any prying eyes."
Tokiwa raised an eyebrow, "Hotate keeps to herself?" the horned vizard asked, repeating Tougen's words in the form of a question as the blue haired man jumped down from the rafters.
"You say that as if you know she's still alive. You can't prove that she lives anymore than I can prove that she gave up the ghost, other than the fact that she hasn't been seen in years." The redhead shut her eyes momentarily, thinking about all the odd things Hotate would be up to if she had indeed taken to being a hermit of sorts. She never had seemed right in the head, perhaps corpses were keeping her company in the woods somewhere.
"I suppose it's possible, others have reappeared before." including herself. The fact that she had so much time missing disturbed her to say the very least, so she shoved the matter aside for now.
Hotate received a most curious note. It was addressed to all vizards. She knew about it because she has been keeping some tabs on the situation with them. Though she much preferred the quiet life, the vizards were still the closest thing to companions in-the-know that she had at the moment. Her finger was tapping against the note, studying it.
Press.
This definitely wasn't from Hisao. Who's this yutz that thinks they would just call a meeting out of nowhere? It was working however, since Hotate was seriously thinking about going, just to see who else would show up and what they wanted.
Tap. Tap. Press. Tap.
And then she was there, at the designated meeting point. Hotate wore casual clothes, befitting someone that looked sixteen. Her dark-green hair was still the same, long and would cover her face if not for two hairclips that kept it parted. Each hairclip was designed to look like a skull. It matched well with some other pieces of skull jewelry that adorned her body.
"Tada," Hotate announced to the room, specifically to Tokiwa.
Absolon raised an eyebrow in surprise. The near reverence that Tougen was giving him caught him, if for a moment, off guard completely. A smirk appeared on his face, as Hotate appeared from near obscurity from behind him. “And it seems even like business practices can be put on hold for a minute,” he replied with a slight chuckle in his voice.
The appearance of Hotate did seem to give him a sense of calm. After all, she was skilled enough to be the third seat under Moira Murray as well as lead her own Echelon in turn. The only one left who would complete things would be Silas. However, Absolon truly doubted that he was roaming somewhere in Hueco Mundo. After all, news like that would have most likely reached him during his long exile.
“Kaichuu would have been useful,” he muttered under his breath, though he doubted anyone other than him would know the meaning. He shifted unsteadily, keeping an eye on the exit at all times. Though it had been quite a while, memories of being near kidnapped and forced to stand before the Central Forty-Six remained fresh in his mind. Content with waiting for ’plans’ Shukumei had most likely created, he remained silent.
Shukumei shared a smile at Absolon's laugh. He couldn't hide the surprise in his eyes at the appearance of Hotate. She hadn't made herself known for a long time and so he just assumed her dead, though he was glad that he was proven wrong. Maybe that steely-haired man was right, they were here and there. Come to think of it, he still didn't know the man's name, no matter how many times he met with him. The copper-haired vizard was just hoping that someone would slip his name at some point.
After glancing around the group before him, he felt a sudden optimistic surge. Maybe their numbers weren't so few after all, though he felt privileged by the fact that he had survived as long as he had when most of the others were way above his reiatsu level. It was almost miraculous that Toki had managed to survive whatever it was that she had been forced to endure for the past year before she returned. The teenager's youthful face turned to Tougen.
"I agree, to any unwelcome eyes this would look very suspicious," he began. "There is a complex beneath this warehouse that is still protected by one of Hisao's barriers, though I believe it only allows certain individuals to pass. I'm not sure all of us meet its requirements, so I'm afraid this will have to do."
Shukumei took a look around the warehouse. The appearance on the surface couldn't have made it look further from a secret base of operations for the masked ones. Sofas and table surfaces scattered about the huge room as well as various appliances, it had been used as a hideout more than a year ago. Of course, except for the pit training Shukumei had held there recently, the entire place had been abandoned since then. It would serve its purpose he was sure.
"Unless, of course, one of you has enough knowledge in kidou to cast a barrier that would keep unwanted eyes and ears away from this place?"
A pent-up bark of laughter came from Tougen as he regarded Hotate. "It's been too long, Hotate! It's good to see you again."
The recurrence of the former Panacea leader was a bolstering sight to the Vizards, though it was hard to tell if the strange man could be counted in their ranks. Clapping his hands together briefly, he gave an exuberant grin to those gathered. "I have no such talent as the former Tyrant, but I can assure you I am in full knowledge of the premises.
"So what might this be, little Vizard? A call to arms? To war? To camaraderie?" He paused, another chuckle rocking his shoulders once, before he finished, "all three, perhaps?"
The ragged man tapped his heel against the ground below him. He closed his eyes, carefully and slowly processing the situation that had appeared in front of him. Absolon breathed in before opening his eyes once again. He gazed at Tougen for a moment before interrupting the former Blitzkrieger.
“Before we go further,” the Frenchman asked in a heavy accent, “I do have a question to ask. Everyone who has currently gathered, in some way or another, was connected to the former Army of Masks. Everyone... but you... In fact, I don’t think you’ve even told us your name.”
His thumb traced along the side of his sheathed blade. Perhaps it was due to years of exile in the hell-hole that was Hueco Mundo, but Absolon always felt at edge among newcomers. He broke his pause with a delightfully simple question.
Tougen was in the process of taking a brief step to the side, when he stopped. The question hung about the group, eyes turning to the steely-haired man. The same smile was quirked about Tougen's face, and he answered easily. "Who? What a strange question. Who is a question for those with identity, and a purpose that requires identity.
"I'm not so much a who as I am a what, and what I am is a passing stranger, Monsieur Leveque." He rambled, before tilting his head thoughtfully. "A stranger with an interest in what a group of Vizards has for the near and distant future. Such things hardly escape attention, after all."
"You are a scar across the stomach!" Hotate exclaimed out of nowhere to Tougen. Her cheeks turned read at the sudden outburst. "I mean, of course you're a person. But I remember that. It's, well, never mind." She scratched her head awkwardly. Silently, Hotate admitted that she didn't know much more about Tougen than his name and his dashing scar.
She did remain grinning as she looked around the room. There were many familiar faces that she was glad to see was still doing well. All of them had completely missed out on that crazy nutbag Raifuku, though she wasn't going to bring it up if no one else was. That experience hadn't exactly been pleasant.
Shukumei watched the conversations with a short smile on his face. Hotate and Mystery-man knew each other, though with the amount of them that were left that was hardly surprising. Absolon knew Hotate too, in fact, if they all had one thing in common it was that they knew Hotate. Her presence did seem to take a certain edge off the situation and that could only have been a good thing. His smile widened a little as he turned towards steely-haired Tougen again, though it was far from malevolent. It could even have been described as gentle, for a vizard anyway.
"War? Considering how many of us have gathered here today, I would hardly consider war a great idea," he began, a tone to match his smile. "Besides, survival is one of our main goals and I'm sure war would contradict that. The latter on the other hand, camaraderie, sounds more like what I am proposing."
The short-statured teenager rubbed a hand through his copper hair and lifted himself away from the wall, shifting in his open leather jacket as he loosened up his muscles. He'd been leaning against that wall too long and was starting to stiffen.
"The Army of Masks has essentially been disbanded. The 'Army' side of things anyway, and every base and hidey-hole that was ever created for us has just been abandoned. The very least that we can do is leave one building to perform taming sessions to any new masked-ones that appear."
"Well..." Tougen remarked, scratching at the side of his head once more. "... not exactly."
Noticing attention was once more fully upon him, he let out a sort of nervous laugh. "I'm just saying, disbanded is a strong word, little Vizard. It's more accurate to say that the Army of Masks is scattered. Derelict. Somewhat lost, I suppose."
A moment passed, and a pensive look crossed Tougen's face. Then, his features smoothed, entirely serious. "There are rumblings. Rumors and tidings that a Vizard has declared himself the new Imperator. Whether or not that is true, I cannot speak for. Still... for someone to claim the title once held by Anton Zhukov... it does not bode healthily."
Breathing lightly, the man's expression brightened once more. "Alas, but that is neither here nor there. If company and camaraderie is what you seek... perhaps I can lend certain knowledge to your ears. If you would have it, of course."
Toki narrowed her gaze on Tougen, how did he manage to know so much when nobody had even really noticed him until recently? He made it sound as if he knew of every Vizard's where abouts, but for some unknown reason he could not, or would not divulge such information.
Something is off about this man... The redhead thought to herself as she stayed in the background of the meeting. The man was smooth for sure, but something about him was gnawing away at her. She had tried to ignore it, toss it aside, but just like the instincts of her inner hollow, the small Vizard couldn't completely calm the storm of paranoia growing in her heart.
Letting loose a sigh from her nostrils, she worked to hide her feelings from the gathering in the warehouse, before finally speaking up in the calmest manner she could muster. "I for one, think you should. You appear to hold plenty of knowledge that concerns all of us, and since you agreed to this camaraderie, we deserve to know it as well." The horned girl kept her eyes locked on the steely haired man, but she was careful to not let her expression betray her in front of everyone in the structure.
Unfortunately, he was quick to catch it. It was a momentary lapse in Tokiwa's contours, but it was an expression he knew all too well. There were a myriad of emotions suspended in the air, and it wasn't until now that he found it safe enough to reveal himself although to be quite honest, there was no telling if it was truly safe considering how easily this place could become volatile in a split second. The fact of the matter was that there were familiar faces about, but there were also strangers, like him, whom others knew nothing about, and in the life of a vizored, that posed a huge problem.
Nevertheless,
"Listen to what he's got to say. His information has always proven to be useful," the newcomer said, his blue haori trailing behind him. Upon closer scrutiny, they would notice that the purple-haired man was wearing a garb that was almost akin to a shinigami's shihakushou. Furthermore, a white scarf was wrapped around his neck, accompanied by a white headband. The way he spoke so confidently about Tougen spoke of trust that stemmed from several years.
Anton Zhukov, another old name. That one was very old, in fact Shukumei wondered if any vizards stranded in the world of the living were young anymore. Toki and himself seemed the youngest, as was made apparent by the others that all seemed connected to each other. If nothing else, at least the meeting served to reunite a small bunch of the oldest and potentially strongest masked ones around.
Shukumei remained quiet as he glanced from Tougen and then to Toki as she said exactly what he thought, in different words. Then another newcomer revealed himself from the shadows, unfamiliar to him but an acquaintance of mystery-man it seemed. More came than he originally expected to arrive. That could only have been a good thing, he was sure, though the steely-haired man's original comment still lingered in his mind. He hoped prying eyes did not watch them or some of their adversaries may develop suspicions.
"I agree with Toki," the copper-haired teenager finally said to the enigmatic vizard. "I would be an idiot not to ask for this information you seem to hold."
That smile remained firmly on his face. The thought of a new Imperator turned part of him to ice - Hisao was tough on his training and he considered that quite light compared to the tales of previous tyrants that he had heard of, though if it brought leadership to their little band of misfits, then Shukumei would likely be accepting. Of course, nothing was set in stone.
