[7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

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Re: [7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

#61

Post by Silverdrake » Fri Sep 08, 2017 6:58 pm

Tall, straight trees grew close together, their leaves so thick they blocked out all but the dimmest light. Tatsuki's moccasined feet stepped silently on a forest floor deeply carpeted with leaf mold, moss, various slimes and rotting wood. That the trees had leaves was the only sign of life. All it needed was a crawling mist to make it seem properly haunted.

No wonder those twerps looked like they were going to crap themselves when I asked where Seventh was. The bedraggled little group of civilians digging through rubble had gone pale and merely pointed.

Or maybe it was that she looked nearly a haunt, herself. Where she wasn't bandaged with rags of black and white cloth, she was dotted and spotted and striped with half-healed wounds. What passed for her shihakushou was rags, as well. The ruins of 4th Division had held little else besides char and ash. One unburned book on kaido, wrapped in a protective covering of more rags, rode Tatsuki's back in a secure backpack hitch made from her zanpakutou's cords.

The humidity of the forest made her hair stick to her forehead. She reached up to push back the ragged strands. Like the rest of her, her hair was also wounded, uneven tags and tails all over. She thought again that she should just cut it off. It wasn't as if anyone was going to look at her.

A feeling came, like her tigress zanpakutou spirit about to say something snarky. Stuff it, bitch-cat. I'm still debating whether I should drop both of you down a sinkhole. A mental glare answered. From the dragon came only a feeling of huddling deeper into hopeless misery.

The Academy had had little to say about Hell, beyond the form of the gates that sometimes opened after cleansing a Hollow. Information on what happened within had been sparse. The damned were raised to the pinnacle of their power, then giants, like the one whose sword pierced the gate and the damned soul, crushed that power and the souls to dust. And there in her sword were two ... beings, who constantly nagged her to gain the pinnacle of her power....

Her nose caught a hint of foulness and she watched where she was walking, stepping carefully around a clump of fungus nodules. About the size of marbles, their whitish-gray skins were translucent as burn blisters on a corpse. She had fallen facedown in such a clump, one time. The stench, like every possible type of mold, mildew and rot mixed together, had left her puking. She had scrubbed her face raw with mud and grass by the time she got the stink off, wondering, without really wanting to know, how fungus could smell like rotting meat.

Speaking of stink.... A too-familiar reiatsu impinged on her senses. Tatsuki altered course and followed it. Soon, the forest opened out into almost a clearing around a tree. This one wasn't straight, but ponderous and ... wrong. From a spreading base, contorted bark twined upward like snakes furred in moss. The broken stub of a smaller tree stuck up from its side as it the larger one had grown through it and killed it. Sprawling roots twisted over and under the forest litter throughout the clear area. As with the dead tree, they seemed to have strangled the life out of everything around them, as the leaves overhead strangled out the light.

Tatsuki circled just outside the clear area, wondering where the reiatsu was coming from. Now, she could clearly feel more than one. They seemed to come from the tree. Soon, a split began to show in its trunk. A bit further, and she could see that it was more than a split. There was a hole. Like the maw of Old Man Willow.

She left the shelter of the other trees and walked nearer. Once she fully faced the opening, she changed her mind. The overall shape of the tree and opening was ... very ... feminine. And gnarled. And scrofulous. More like the putrifying cooch of a zombie prostitute! And that was definitely where the reiatsu was coming from. This is sick, even for him.

The clash and boil of multiple reiatsu said a fight was going on inside. As if that was any surprise. The image of a pile of rubble flashed through her mind, the remains of 7th Division's castle headquarters. The training grounds razed. The gardens churned to rubble. The arched bridges across the courtyard shattered and lying where the barrier portal to the Ruins had once been. Tatsuki had supervised the construction of all of it, putting every bit of skill and love of craftsmanship she had into it. While she'd been doing that, he had banished the Hotel back to the dimensional rift, taking everything she owned with it, right down to her toothbrush and spare underwear. Then, before the smell of fresh paint had even faded from the castle, he had picked a fight with 10th Division that left it uninhabitable. So it was no surprise that he was fighting here, in this new home for the division. For whatever value of "home" such a place might have.

Why am I even here? She didn't know. Habit? Some useless instinct like picking a scab to see if it still hurt? He had made it clear that she had no home, destroying each in turn. No place, his perfunctory congratulation on completing the castle turning immediately to talk of death and going downhill from there. Ignored when not insulted. Shooed off on errands suited to a jigokuchou when she tried to help. Lectured contemptuously when she asked a question. Always, his repeated declarations that failure had no place in Seventh. And she, the one who had failed him, waited to be cast out.

But no, he'd had something else in mind -- the pièce de résistance, the ultimate filthy joke. With the castle half-destroyed, they had moved in with 11th Division. Where everyone started calling her "Fukutaichou."

She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head at the memory. At her naivety, how long it had taken her to really twig to what was going on. At first, confusion. A promotion like that came with at least a few bits of officialism, presentation of the lieutenant's badge, if nothing else. So she had gone looking for him to ask. Yet no matter where she looked, he wasn't there or had just left. Then puzzlement at how she could even introduce herself. What if she just gave her name and division, and someone asked her rank? What could she say, "Third Seat, last time anyone told me"?

Rank had rules. Misintroducing herself could have consequences. Claiming Vice-Captain if she was still Third could be impersonation. Claiming Third Seat if she officially was Vice-Captain could be dereliction. She had no idea how much trouble either could land her in. Especially here, where actions that in her Navy might not even bring Captain's Mast could be called "treason." The Gotei seemed to be in love with the term. She couldn't even check the laws, because the Archives demanded name, division and rank to access the stacks.

Suddenly, she was afraid to meet anyone who might want more than her name. A name that wasn't even her own, just something the Academy registrar had made up on the spot, naming her after her moccasins. She could hardly walk up to the Kenpachi of 11th, or anyone else, and ask, "Do you know what rank I am?" Who knew what kind of "treason" they might call that. The only place left to look was 7th's Castle. But the passage leading to it through the rift area was sealed tight. As the plug in the dimensional gateway to the Ruins, the castle drew on that energy and would eventually heal the damage done to it,no workmen needed. She had nowhere to get the answer, so she isolated herself from everyone, wondering why she was shut off from any answer, left in confusion and fear.

Then she understood. He had said it so many times. Failure had no place in 7th Division, and the punishment for her failure was as vicious as he was. Take her deep desire to expiate that failure by helping him in any other way she could, all her hopes of forgiveness and acceptance, wrap it in a promotion as his trusted right hand and the shield at his back, and make it all a lie. A trap. Another sick joke, like so many at the Academy, and as potentially deadly as some of those had been. Traps and tricks and lies. The same as so many times before.

That was when other pieces started to fall into place. Started to, because she needed to escape the trap she was in. The Ruins were blocked off. Shywing must have told him that she'd been headed there the last time the word "treason" had been thrown at her. So she'd made her way to Hueco Mundo. No one there would care about her rank, and when someone from the Gotei came to drag her back, she would at least have the figleaf of "spying on the Arrancar" to stave off charges of desertion.

But no one ever came.

It had taken her a long time, sitting that endless, pure white, moonlit desert, listening to the whispering shush of the sands, to realize all the layers-- No, even now she couldn't say "all." The many many layers of cruelty intertwined in that one deceit. It had seemed almost insulting, at first, from its sheer incredibility. She could have told him that a proper sick joke needed to be credible, as many as had been pulled on her, and that this one hardly fit his reputation as a master strategist. But that very incredibility was what made it hurt so badly, that she, the constant disappointment, the failure, had been labeled his Fukutaichou. It hurt because it encompassed all she had wanted, all she'd had. He had taken her hopes, her position, her home, even the insulting and artificial name she wore. One lie had taken it all.

That brought a memory of a suspicion she once had, all the way back during her recruit trial. Something he had said had made her wonder if he was in league with that psycho sadist of a zanjutsu instructor at the Academy. Who had screamed in her face that she had no place in Seireitei and should go back to the wilds and live like the animal she was. That he couldn't prevent her from graduating, but no division would ever accept her. Then she'd been accepted into Seventh. And nothing had gone right after.

Three years. She had been in Seventh for three years, where nearly everything she did or tried to do or said got her in trouble or proved futile. A disappointment, an irritant. Then had come that one golden moment of hope. The monster showed a human face, gentleness, asking for help. As hard as she tried, it ended in failure. As if it could have ended any other way. That peak of hope made it even worse, going back to being ignored, dismissed, mocked with scathing contempt. Then, with one lie, she fell to the abyss, and had no place in Seireitei. Driven even beyond the wilds, back to the Hollows who had been her only company there. Three years of frustration and torment, then one lie. That fit his reputation as a master strategist.

There in the white, whispering sands, alone except for the Hollow she'd named Bobblehead peeking at her from behind the dunes, all the pieces had fallen into place. Soul Society was a place of abandonment, betrayal, pain and lies, where every hope was cruelly crushed. There was a name for a place like that. Hell.

She just needed to adjust her mindset. Insane as she had been when she arrived, she must have missed the sign that read "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." She had kept clinging to hope, trust, expecting comrades to be comrades rather than enemies. The Hollows she had run with had been more honest. Most had just wanted to eat her. Often, now, she wondered if it might have been better if she had let them. Either way, the emptiness inside would be the same.

She opened her eyes and regarded the gangrenous-looking hole in front of her, violent reiatsu pouring out of it like birthwaters of evil. Mention had been made of Seventh's new vice-captain, so at least that joke seemed to have run its course. Her feet started moving her forward. Nothing to do but go inside and pick the scab to see if it still hurts. If not, I can pull it off and let that scar start to weather in.

After passing into the shadow of the gaping gaunch -- she was not going to say "entering" -- she followed a downward-sloping stone passage that looked like it had been gouged out by giant claws. Smooth facets on the stone reflected the dim light from outside farther down the passage than its strength would suggest, and reflected the sounds of battle back up. A bit farther along, her nose began to wrinkle. Tell me that is not what I'm smelling.... But soon there was no denying that it was. She grimaced in disgust. You have got to be kidding me! It smells like used tampons were left to rot in here!

The light behind was fading, but another, bluish light began to show ahead. Strange, though, the reiatsu should have been getting stronger as she neared. Instead, it was dulled, somehow. Sounds of fighting echoed in the passageway, rolls of thunder, the crack of lightning and blasts of kidou distorting voices beneath the noise.

A faint shine on the tunnel's floor caught her eye. She walked over to look. A potato chip bag, showing creases where it had been neatly folded. Now partially unfolded, it looked like an empty shell with the nutmeat gone. Not just a giant, bloody cooch, but one where the johns leave their wrappers lying around. She wondered what kind of anal-retentive slob neatly folded litter before tossing it on the floo--

A deafening crack of lightning ripped through the tunnel. Something else snapped Tatsuki's head up, eyes wide and lips parting in a gasp, right hand reaching for something beyond the wall. Pure. Shining. Bright as summer sun piercing the frozen dark of Fimbulwinter, warm as a gentle hand reaching out to touch her heart, where a tiny light winked back to life--

Twisted. Savage. Black as infinite nothingess sucking her down, cruel as spiked claws ripping her heart to quivering shreds, crushing the light in an ocean of filth.

Her mouth stayed open in a silent scream. The reaching hand recoiled to clench in the front of the rags that passed as her shihakushou. Cloth tore. Her legs bent, leaving her curled in a kneeling ball. She didn't notice. The pain and emptiness multipled a hundred-fold from being smashed back to darkness from that brilliant moment of ... hope.

Hope? Slime-wallowing putrescent bastard. Lying, backstabbing, cancerous shit-stain! How dare you make me hope?! Her teeth closed in a fanged rictus, her throat so tight with rage and hate, she could hardly breathe. Every cuss word she had learned as a sailor ran on multi-channel heterodyne -- at him, at herself for ever believing him, at this entire crap-sack existence lyingly called Soul Society.

Finally, she had to take a breath. 'Society.' As if psychos could make a society. Psycho sociopathiety. The pain in her chest hadn't lessened in the least. She glanced down. The knuckles of her right hand had crushed the skin over her breastbone, as if trying to dig a hole where one had once been. She stared for a moment, then pulled the hand away. I haven't done that in a long itme.

Picking the scab to see if it still hurt. There was no scab over that wound, just barely clotted blood holding it shut, ready to bleed all over again at the slightest touch. Would it hurt less if whoever-it-was had never saved me from that Hollow, just let me finish turning into one or be eaten right there? Do Hollows live in a lesser Hell than I do?
What did I do? I can't remember! Aren't you supposed to repent while being tortured in Hell?
The futility of rage, hate, or anything else settled over her, again.
Why can't I remember? How am I supposed to repent when I don't even know what I did?!
Tatsuki sighed and quashed the whining. Repentence while in Hell was useless; that's what you were supposed to do before being sent there. She couldn't remember because that made it hurt all the worse. Or maybe did remember, but... how could wanting the murderer to pay send her to Hell? Was becoming a demi-hollow a mortal sin? No, but vengeance, wrath and despair were, in some beliefs.

A pulse of some strange kidou brought her out of useless questioning to scan her surroundings. Nothing else odd happened, and nothing else odd seemed to be going on. She rubbed the blood off her knuckles on a rag tied around her leg, then stood and continued down the passage. No thought directed it, just her feet going the way they'd been going. The battle had changed, fewer were fighting. He wasn't. She couldn't care enough to wonder what had happened to his opponent. After a certain point, pain became a haze of numbness.

The bluish glow brightened steadily and finally she came to the end of the stone passage. It opened into a cavern. A nearly actinic crack glowing in one wall -- the source of the light -- reflected on a stone-strewn pool. A bit of greenery grew around the crack. Moss showed on some of the rocks protuding from the ceiling. Not really stalagtites, from their shape, just jagged, protruding boulders. Reiatsu traces from innumerable sources prickled like centipedes crawling over her skin. Again, her lip curled in disgust. Every john the putrid whore ever had left his mark, Besides the rotting blood smell, the air stank of ozone, fresh blood, and burned meat.

A monk-looking guy fought a leather-clad giant behind what felt like a kidou barrier. A shark-looking Arrancar grinned at ... him. She turned to look at the fight, a faint thought in the back of her mind wondering if he had flash-fried himself, again, or had had help, this time.

From what Tatsuki had heard, leather dude was the new VC. He looked like something out of a cheesy horror movie with all that leather and gray skin. Truly cheesy, as he was literally chewing the scenery with a set of chompers grotesque enough to make shark-boy's pecker shrivel with envy. And just to put the cherry on top, he was using a chainsaw. Yee...hah. Found a freak even worse than he is.

Tatsuki's brows knit in a faint frown, and she looked closer at the Gray Gimp's waist, where several things were attached. What might have been the remains of some sort of mask, a broken zanpakutou, and ...

She remembered buying a bag of yakiniku from the Games vendor, offering some to her teammate, a young man whose body was half metal. Him refusing, because he didn't eat in front of others. The not-quite-Vader-esque breath mask that had covered his lower face, the reason he didn't eat ... hadn't eaten ... in front of others, now hung from the leather monster's belt. Cid. Sadness trickled through the uncaring. You just didn't have any luck with monsters, did you?

The next thought was directed toward her sword. Look at that, and tell me again that this isn't Hell. Nothing came from either of them, except a feeling of silent mourning. They'd known Cid, too.

A stinking, crawling pit of monsters, different from the 7th Division she'd always known only in degree. New! Now with more monsters! Monsters. I wonder what Gai would think of that trophy.
. . . . . .Ginshitora Tatsuki . . . . . .
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I strike from the chaos your opposition created

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Re: [7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

#62

Post by Vladkre33 » Sun Sep 10, 2017 12:32 pm

SD, take all my monies and gold stars. That was awesome ^_^
Force pushed back against Elijah's might, infuriating him. The useless meat puppets were thrown into the stone walls and exploded like balloons full of meat. The chainsaw in his hand tried to squirm from his grip, but such a thing would not come to pass. Roaring in defiance, Elijah called upon the apex of his strength, "BANKAI!!!!"

Elijah's already enormous weapon grew, three more feet of whirring blades for a total of ten feet of weapon. The lion had required this strength to be wounded. The bad meat creature on the other hand, did not. He had poked the bear and would receive only rage and malice. A brilliant light radiated from the meat creature, blinding the giant. Even so, Elijah would swing against the foe in a berserker like rage. Invigorated by his release, he would cleave though the energy wave with minimal resistance.

Swinging the chainsaw wildly in his blindness, Elijah felt it hit naught but air and stone. Frustrated with the lack of the squelch of flesh and the feel of blood on his skin, he kept swinging. Each miss only fed his rage, his stamina seemingly unending with his simple minded determination to find and kill his foe. Gutteral screaming echoed from his gaping maw, "TINY MAN USE MAGIC! ELIJAH HATE MAGIC!"
"An Immovable Wall of Flesh, ever rising, until the end."

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Re: [7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

#63

Post by Asano » Wed Sep 27, 2017 12:06 pm

~Th-there’s so much darkness here. I know much of Gotei was destroyed, but this... how does anyone accomplish anything? And that reiatsu, I’m still so far out, and yet it stings.~

A concerned face peered through the darkness of the forest and looked ahead at bleak trail leading to the Pit of Bests. Despair had taken shape and the skies only grew darker as the path carried on.

~I can’t turn back! I... have to get stronger. So many are depending on me. I can’t to let them down. I can’t let myself down either.~

The brave soul carried on, and before long the tyrant’s breach was but a few paces ahead. By now the bite of numerous oppressive reiatsu had reigned supreme. A moment of hesitation. What lied inside was unlike anything else the soul had faced. Hollow seemed like kittens by comparison. Something truly foul had made nest within, and the rumors were becoming increasingly real.

The soul crossed the threshold and continued down the path into the Den of Demons. There had been fighting, and from the feel of it, intense fighting. The brave soul could hardly breath, could hardly move. The dense concentration of such massive energies was stifling. The soul knelt down, sweat formed upon a furrowed brow, strained breathed echoed out.

”I... I can’t. This place is a...~

The souls collapsed. The strain of even existing in the presence of so many tremendous reiatsu was more than the soul could bare. No amount of training, nor teachings in the academy could have prepared anyone for the cruelty of the Pit.

It would come in a blur, and seek to lay waste to them all.
In a flash, the beast sought to let loose a calamity crafted by its own hands.
Its sole purpose to leave nothing but charred remains and ash...


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Re: [7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

#64

Post by Asano » Sun Oct 08, 2017 11:33 pm

Solus growled. It wasn’t too hard to notice unfortunate soul failing to maintain consciousness in the Pit. There weren’t many that knew of the Pit’s location, and only one person Solus was expecting show up. From the would be attacker’s, to a familiar face, only one fit the description lodged deeply in the Captain’s mind.

Solus’ eyes fixated on Emi. They stood, and then they approached. Halfway through the trek to were she had fallen, a look of disappointment had crept up onto their face. Recruit or not, the Pit of Beasts was no place for the type of weakness Emi had displayed. There was but one fate for her now.

Solus stood over the collapsed woman, bent down, and picked her up from the back of the neck, a cat being hoisted up by either of its parents. The Captain lifted her up high and called out for all too hear.

”This is why Gotei is in shambles! This is why it’s soldiers can barely execute competent assault. This weakness! A frailty like newborn pups, is pathetic! In this world with either fight and survive, or we fight and fall. This girl, falls before even drawing her blade. Let this be an example for you all, friend and foe alike! Weakness...shall be your undoing.”

In response to the Captain prattling on about weakness, and furthive delving into their warped perspective of power and might, The Proving Flame roared to life. As the Captain recognized Emi’s weakness, so too did the furious fire. Red hot waved jumped out from the smoldering hearth and lashed out at the girl caught in the Captain’s clutches. She awoke to the commotion but it was too late. She had been branded unworthy.

The flames carried her from Solus’ hand and forced her out of the Pit. As soon as she crossed the threshold Solus gave chase, and in the next instant they were outside along with her. Emi sat up, confused and scared, but mostly confused. To her everything happened so fast. The visit, passing out, being swallowed by flames, and now being confronted by this hulking figure.

”Stand!”

She struggled at first, but soon Emi found her footing. He was a fair bit taller, but not so much that he towered over her. She looked up, eyes resolute, the fear in her waning as what little strength she had returned to her. As she did, she noticed the Captain near perpetual scowl and overwhelming disappointment, but did so without flinching. However beyond that, she noticed his young face. It was clear that countless battles had worn on him, and ages him to an extent, but where was without a doubt an underlying youth she could not ignore. As intimidating as he was, recognizing this truth made him a lot less scary to her.

”A-Akino Emi, C-Captain, Sir.!”

She managed to blurt out in a hurry. He face lacked fear, but the cracks in her voice and the slight fumbling of her words betrayed her looks. Solus’ face hardened in response.

”Don’t even bother trying to save face with that forced politeness, and conditioned respect for rank. Falling out the way you did already showed your lack of back bone. Do not add insult to your self-inflicted wounds.”

Emi was taken aback by the biting tone of voice, and even more shocked by how quick he was to put her down. She slunk away a bit, but didn’t get too far before that grating sound escapes the Captain’s lips once more.

”You have lost your right to be here. Your weakness will not be tolerated by us, nor the flame within. From this day forward you are banished from this Divsion until you prove yourself worthy of being a part of it...”

Emi’s head tilted to the right slightly, her brow scrunched up and her eyes narrowed. This wasn’t right. He had just enlisted, and before she could introduce herself, she had been crushed into unconsciousness, treated like something less than human, insulted, and then banished on top of it. Emi’s stomach churned. She knew both Gotei and the Sevent had its share of problems, but things were far worse than initiall expected.

At that moment she wanted to run, she wanted to scream, she wanted to draw her blade and gut Solus, she wanted to throw up, she wanted to be left alone. A wild mix of feelings and emotions welled up, but the truth of what she felt remained hidden. Only she, and she alone would know the tumultuous battle occurring within her. But then she settled, and a new thought occurred.

Despite what had happened before, despite what had happened now, her goal had not changed. In fact, her resolve only became that much more intense inspite of what happened. Beyond that, she adopted a new goal. Solus was a plague, a blemish on what dying slivers of good reputation Gotei still had. She would not stand to let Gotei devolve back into lawless and bloodthirsty earlier days. It was an affront to the noble standing Gotei eventually gained, and to her, Solus and his band of mongrels were at the forefront of this tragedy. To prevent that, she reasoned, Solus would have to be killed.

There was no way someone like him could be allowed to live, let alone command a small army of warriors. Not as long as he behaved way he did, clung to the values he put forward, and not while he could spread his sickening ideals and corrupt even more unfortunate souls. Solus was a sickness, and Emi, resolved to become stronger in order to be the cure for Gotei. Grandiose, lofty, perhaps insane to be sure, but there was no denying that there was something deeply wrong and deeply troubling happening with the Seventh.

Emi’s posture straigned up. Her eyes narrowed into a star sharp enough to cut through steel. She approached Solus slowly and calmly, then reached back behind herself before drawing her blade on him. In her mind, her unwillingness to back down, as well as to outright defy the Captain and stand up for herself would earn respect. To her, it was in accordance with the twisted ideals she quickly picked up from him. Of course, things did not go as planned.

Before the blade was even draw a quarter of the way from its sheath, Solus grabbed her hand to stop the draw. He then pushed back with enough force to knock her to the ground. Shortly after his fist just appeared before her face, with force and ferocity to not only blow her back a fair distance, but to also carry a fair portion of the surrounding forest along with it.

”What did you ever hope to accomplish by drawing your blade against us like that? Was that some show, some attempt to prove yourself as we had mentioned? Are you not aware that bravado means nothing to us? What we seek is skill, intelligence, an affinity for the fight that few are able to display. That is true strength. You, you merely pretend. Playing tough is what children do. Return when you realize the difference between pretense and honesty.”

Solus turned to depart. For the most part, Emi was unharmed. Though her pride and feelings suffered a through bruising. It was clear Solus was not hell bent on causing harm, but to teach the hard lesson that what she did was completely foolish. Yet rather than learning not to draw so reckless, what Emi took away from it was that she needed to do absolutely anything and everything within her power to become strong enough to rid the world of Solus once and for all. Before the Captain could get away, Emi jumped up and shouted at him.

”Teach me how to fight better! Train me to become stronger! P-please!”

Solus hesitated for a moment, but continued on. However before vanishing into the darkness of the cave, he rose his right arm as if to dismiss her, but instead a rather large black butterfly emerged from hiding somewhere on his body and fluttered towards her. Once close enough it relayed the following message.

|So be it then. We will meet at training site number five in exactly thirteen hours. If you are late, or do not show, we will hunt you down and we will kill you... Shizune will guide you there.|

The butterfly then took off, fluttering deeper into the forest. Unaffected by the Captain’s threat, Emi followed right after it and disappeared into the darkness.

It would come in a blur, and seek to lay waste to them all.
In a flash, the beast sought to let loose a calamity crafted by its own hands.
Its sole purpose to leave nothing but charred remains and ash...


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Re: [7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

#65

Post by Phantom-T » Thu Oct 12, 2017 7:56 am

Almost as expected, the bald shinigami felt the strength of his opponent repelled on contact with his barrier, and his will power still unrivaled as he surprisingly held firm to the chainsaw. Not overly bothered by this the shinigami carried on with his attack as the glow of light quickly blurred him out of view, his opponent was surely going to have a hard time fending him off he thought as a sudden sound swept by his face in close proximity.

Taken back by this singular action, a second swing quickly whaled through, slightly barring through his chest as he retrieves his step in a quick dash. The bald shinigami would glide backward supporting the point of impact with his right palm with blood drained from his face.

“What this?” he wondered with his face grayed, his countenance filed with disbelief and his grip firmly fastened to his staff while his opponent continued his mad slash across thin air. “Bankai?”


Standing further away from the rampaging beast with sweats running down his cheekbone and His upper garment calmly slumped downwards from the point of impact. The bald shinigami quickly heaved a breath of relief as the glowing light came to its timely end revealing to the shinigami what he had missed (his chainsaw).


Though not something kin would have imagined impossible the shinigami came to realize his opponents had added a few more ft to his weapon making it unreasonable for a man his size to bare. If for anything lifting it up should serve enough exercise for a day but yet here he was swinging it with such ferocity most would consider it insane.

Then again, maybe this was not so bad he thought with a forced smile spanned across his face. Raising his staff once again kin would gather the surrounding reishi to his blade releasing bolts of three golden blades to the root of three-man sized stalactites rested directly above the lieutenant. His aim being to restrict his movement would also be aided by three similar slash sent deep into the earth before his advancing foot steps, weakening it enough to crumble at the Lieutenants innate weight.

Grunting with each shot out blades kin would spare a moment to gaze at the nasty gash spanned across his chest with rails of blood dripping down his chest. Though not bone revealing deep, the Shinigami would quickly feel a bit fuzzy and a slight chill down his spine as his Reiatsu eventually picks up a few new occupants in the pit and a rather familiar one close by.
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Re: [7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

#66

Post by Vladkre33 » Sun Oct 15, 2017 11:53 pm

The moment was brief, but even in his rage, Elijah knew when he had drawn blood. Resistance from his blade and the scent of new crimson cuisine were all he needed to rechannel his desire for fresh meat. Howling unintelligibly he would begin to charge toward the smell. When the light faded, he was rewarded with the sight off the bald one clutching his chest. Blood was visibly soaking through the bald man's robes and monstrous grin was painted on the face of the giant.

Though a smile remained on the meat puppet's face, Elijah knew he was in pain. Simply following his baser nature, Elijah single mindedly charged forward. Both hands clutched his chainsaw tightly, a defense against whatever meager defense his foe could offer. Beams of energy shot over his head, but Elijah paid them no mind. Nor did he care much for the ground in front of him being turned to rubble. Lumbering forth like the mindless behemoth he appeared to be, his massive footfalls broke the weakened ground and slowed his advance.

While the spear like rocks fell from above, elijah was oblivious to their presence into one crashed into his left forearm. The sharpness of the stone and it's sheer velocity punctured into his flesh, breaking the bones and creating a substantial gash. The grip on the chainsaw loosened, but did not fail completely. His formidable strength kept it steady even with one hand, but the blows would have to be much more basic than needed.

Stumbling through the broken ground, Elijah continued to pursue the bald meat creature. Utilizing his lengthy weapon like a lance, Elijah sought to impale Kin through his lower abdomen. If he managed to do so he would lift the man as high as his injured arm would allow to drag the chainsaw blades through to his chest wound.
"An Immovable Wall of Flesh, ever rising, until the end."

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Re: [7th Division HQ] The Pit of Beasts

#67

Post by Phantom-T » Mon Dec 04, 2017 12:47 am

[What are you doing son, why hesitate]

[This is? You’re?}

[Your imagination, memories from your past. Now brace yourself.]


Returning his view to the stumbling beast, while a golden glow glitches around him, showing only for a split second the form of a Buddha statue. The bald monk would fight to maintain focus acknowledge he had already wakened his forth Orb as he waves of the memories which hunt.

“You’re still at it?” He whispered with his left hand extended forward as if trying to grab unto the base of the chainsaw piercing forward towards him. However as quick as the eyes can see, a golden aura five times the size and shape of his hand would emanate from his hand attempting to grab unto the chainsaw at a point where the tip of the saw would only be centimeters away from his skin.

Adding to the suspension a kinetic, wave would push backwards attempting to neutralize the force at which the lieutenant pushed forward while his own body slowly drags back.

Looking down at the chainsaw and the injured arm which held unto it, he would be simply amazed to have had the force of only grabbing unto it push him back a few ft.

Calmly increasing his reiatsu to strengthen his grip and himself, the monk would unconsciously allow traces of it sip out, with his demeanor slowly normalizing.

"What’s your name kings guard?" He would question as he struggled to remain grounded.
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