Northwest Seireitei

Hyoroshi Iwamura

New member


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Upon the rooftops Hyoroshi watched the fireworks unfold, silent with an odd tepid look on his face. His blades spun around, around, around, second upon second, now into infinity, the permanence of an agonizing fate dancing across the entire Zanpakuto with its blinding, white-hot brilliance.

His eyes blew open, unprompted; the light-show was dying out but still smoldering. One sniff, another sniff to make sure, and Iwamura knew who was approaching without needing to know their name. It was a pungeance more vile than the sulphuric bowels of Hell, one he had experienced to a far milder, less assured degree roughly two weeks ago.

A Date.

Iwamura pursed his lips for a moment. The Reiatsu signature registered in all its monstrous infamy, and with it the full knowledge of who this was: the Date, the pinnacle of moral debasement, brutalist legalism personified. Yet not a word left his mouth, nor did a flicker disturb his Reiatsu output.

Hyoroshi was a soldier, a dog of the military.

His wrists stabilized and with a yank, he pulled his swords back into his hands, their luminence obscuring his hands and forearms as ardent heat distorted the space immediately around him. With continued silence he watched the noise and the colors drain away, leaving the barracks in a thin calm.

Ren's profanity-laced jeers echoed to Iwamura from above, and as Iwamura noted while scanning his surroundings, so did the crusading waves of the whirlpool below.

In a flash the freight train that was this Espada's Cero Doble barrelled towards the quartet. He couldn't even consider piecing together a thought; Iwamura leapt with Shunpo to the closest rooftop to his left, landing with a thud, and flinging himself off of that roof--but with a quiet chink, a nicking of the wall, a chain radiating pure white sprouted forth and extended a life-saving hand. Spinning himself around he grabbed onto the chain as the Cero Doble passed a few feet overhead, his connection proving sturdy against what now remained of the structure's thick outer wall.

Hyoroshi exhaled, bits and nuggets of rubble all that could rain down from the all-devouring Cero. A chilly wave washed over him. With a spike in urgency he clambered the short distance up to the top of the wall with his blades and well-placed chains until, with a huff, he rose to his feet on the relatively thin strip.

"Gyoja! Ren! Tell me you're okay!" Iwamura called out as he took in his surroundings. The whirlpool was still present, most of the tops of the Thirteenth's structures were no longer, and Taro Date was still suspended above--yet there was no sign of the Espada.

'With any luck, it's Captain Date's presence she's wary of...if he wasn't here, she'd probably be killing us right now...there's no use in us getting in his way, though, best to let him take over...'
 

Adonai

Administrator
Staff member
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Depths of Foolishness

A mental note, that's all Taro was reduced to in her mind. These Arrancar are so bold and arrogant that they believe the presence of a Captain is nothing more than an annoyance to them, like a gnat. Perhaps her confidence was boosted by slaying the Captain of Thirteenth Division or maybe it was just that high to begin with. If either one of these is the case then she is a fool, just because Taro has not moved to attack right away nor moved to aid the other Shinigami does not mean he is simply waiting his turn, no he is waiting for her to make a grievous error. She disappears beneath her waves, exerting Reiatsu by using her various techniques and the fish gobble up every bit of the divine infused Reiatsu, divine in the sense that the power of the Soul King part she has is mixed into her Reiatsu. Though seeing her swim around freely caused a twinge of anger in Kurogane, the Arrancar won't be swimming for long. His left hand moves as his palm faces down towards the ground.

”Raikōhō.”

Lighting from above cascades down in a singular destructive bolt and upon impact with the water it not only vaporizes the water at the spot of impact but sends powerful electrical currents through the rest of the waves of water she is hiding in. Given Taro’s unique way of using Eishōhaki he can forgo not only the incantation but declaration of the type and number of the Kido spell as well but just because he has foregone these aspects of casting does not mean the spell is to be taken lightly. The destruction caused from the blast is evident of that, leaving a small crater in its wake. The current of lightning traveling on the water causes it to boil and burn away as it moves to eradicate her water. These currents aren't just boiling and vaporizing the water, no, they seek to fry the Arrancar hiding within the waves as well. Inadvertently he has aided the fellow Shinigami, who were smart enough to elevate themselves from the water, by removing any place for her to hide. Taro did not become a Captain through his political links, nor did he bully his way into the position, he has respect for the traditions and order of the Gotei 13 and followed its processes to becoming a Captain. He knows how to make use of his available tools and lucky for him there are three good cogs here to make use of.

”I will attack her from below, you lot attack from above. Rest assured, this Sand Vermin will not escape us without becoming a corpse first.”

Nightmare of Kurogane

He drops down from his fish into the small crater made by his Hado and stabs his blade into the ground. The ink that dances along the edge of the blade begins to move wildly before slipping off of said blade edge and into the ground. The various fish swim back to Taro and dive into the crater and begin filling it with ink that overflows from the crater and continues to spread throughout Thirteenth Division. Where one form of liquid had reigned a new one takes its place but it is not just Thirteenth Division, no it spreads beyond that, slamming against the walls of Twelfth Division, the inhabitants of Third Division quickly taking to higher ground as the ink floods their barracks as well. Despite the water only seeming to be about three feet deep, those who fall into it realize that it seems have impossible depth to it. The horror of what is to come has flooded all of the Northwest Seireitei. The army of Arrancar found themselves being swept underneath the ink and vanishing whereas the Shinigami who were caught in it were left adrift, those who couldn’t swim, drowned.


”Bankai. Kurogane Seijin.”
(黒金;Black Gold) (聖人; Saint)

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Slowly a sword was pulled from the sea of ink that Taro was able to stand on top of. It is an eight branched sword with glowing discs lining the middle of said sword. No longer were there fish for him to ride but in where he had lost the fish he had gained the ink. His Bankai creates a vast ocean of ink depending on how much Reiatsu the fish absorb while in Shikai, this is why he didn’t attack right away and why delegating him to nothing more than a mental note was an abhorrently bad idea. He strides calmly atop the waves of ink, his eyes scanning the rooftops before stopping to lock eyes with the Kuchiki being held up by his own Zanpakuto mist to avoid the water of the Arrancar earlier.

”You and your clan are a disgrace. To think a Kuchiki is here and the situation is not resolved. Follow the Shiba’s example and vanish from relevance.”

As he casually insulted the Kuchiki he kept moving his blade which mysteriously made ripples in the ink despite never touching its surface. He is calm, eerily so for someone who is supposed to be in the midst of combat against a powerful foe. But he is calm because he knows he has the advantage right now. If he cannot see the Arrancar above on the surface then that means she is down below in the ink where she may think she has free reign given her extraordinary swimming abilities. But all this ink, this vast ocean of ink, is Taro’s Bankai if she thinks she can exist in it freely with no consequence then she is dead wrong. Should she be within the ink, regardless of wherever in the Northwest she may be he swings his sword and should she be within the ink she would feel a deep gouge cut across her chest as if it came from the blade itself.

In Shikai the ink on the edge of his blade extends the range of its cutting ability although limited to five meters max, by some extent so too do the fish as their bites leave slash wounds or can outright cut off limbs. In Bankai that ink on the edge of the blade becomes this ocean allowing him to cut any who stand on top of it or within it regardless of how far away they are from him. He swings again and again and again, to the three Shinigami it looks like he is putting on a performance of Zanjutsu but for Cordelia she is being relentlessly hounded by masterful sword strikes, maybe her only saving grace is her swimming ability. However she should feel as if she isn’t alone in that ink and this is not a reference to the dead and drowning Arrancar and Shinigami that drift down into the abyss of this ocean of ink. Luckily for her the ink itself is harmless when not being weaponized by Taro.

The Captain is keeping up his end of the bargain and plans to drive her out to the surface where the others can deal with her directly without fear of her hiding within her water or weaponizing it, though if Taro sees an opportunity to kill the Arrancar he won't hesitate to kill these Shinigami if it means killing her as well. Certainly they won’t complain, right? It is every Shinigami’s duty to lay down their life to protect the Seireitei and Soul Society. As the age old saying goes, “for the sake of the Seireitei.”


 

Elk

Member

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A Shinigami lay flat against the ground, his stomach pressing against the stone slabs beneath him. The Shinigami was barely breathing, as blood was pooling beneath their body. Yet still, they watched as a metallic clang echoed through the air, each one varying in volume. Their eye shifted as their hand reached out, their mouth opening—yet nothing came out but a dry heave—as a red Cero flew over their head.

In front of them were numerous Arrancar and Shinigami. The sound of metal scraping against one another was prevalent throughout the air, yet the Shinigami on the ground noticed something odd about each one in front of them. The only movement they could see was in their expressions—their lips quivered, eyes shifted and quaked, their hands trembled—but not from their blades pressing against one another. Then the Cero came through and blasted them all, along with anyone behind them, consuming them all.

This Shinigami found it odd that neither Arrancar nor Shinigami moved away from an attack that was so telegraphed. Their head shifted back to see the Arrancar that had shot the Cero, and their eyes dilated as the attacker seemed to be lifted into the air by nothing, before dropping dead onto the ground.

Then, small puffs of dust kicked up as it came closer and closer to them—enough so that the sound of footsteps rang in their ears, while the clang of metal striking metal began to fade away. The Shinigami turned to slowly move their arm forward. As the steps drew closer, the Shinigami continued their slow crawl—each step made their lips quiver, each movement they made forced a grunt. Then, a gasp for air escaped as they felt the stinging sensation of metal piercing through their back, and now their head turned to see a figure—not one of an Arrancar, but of a fellow Shinigami.


“Die… So you can serve something far greater.”




There Elk stood, his Zanpakutō pulled from the back of a former comrade before he flung it forward, casting blood onto the ground. His eyes shifted toward a reiatsu signature—one he was familiar with, one that sent a shiver throughout his body. Just being in the same section as that man had his fingers twitching. A grating sound was heard as he turned toward the direction of Taro’s reiatsu signature. He was, once again, thankful for the Espada’s arrival, as he was sure the Captain wasn’t here for a mere Shinigami—but for the Espada.

The events continued onward. A spectacle of lights flew through the air as Shinigami launched spells, only to be countered by the Espada’s Cero. Then a spike of reiatsu surged from the Captain—one so sharp that Elk instinctively used Shunpo, landing atop one of the walls. His hands trembled as he watched a wave of black ink spread through the northwestern portion of the Seireitei.

He watched as Shinigami and Arrancar alike were pulled beneath it. Both sides were losing numbers, though the Shinigami seemed to surface again. That didn’t matter to Elk. His hand reached down and gripped the Hōgyoku. It flashed for a moment, then began to glow in his palm. His body curled forward as he brought it close to his chest, a slight twitch above his eye as he began to laugh in a maniacal tone.

As he rose up, his hand moved to wipe a single tear from his eye before he looked back toward the direction of the battle between the Espada and the others.

“I should thank Captain Date for his ruthlessness… He made this far easier than it should have been.”

A heavy sigh escaped him as he placed his Zanpakutō and the Hōgyoku back into their respective places. One hand reached down to grip his phone, where he dialed the scientist.


“It’s done…”

“I trust you got everything sorted?”

“Good.”

“Meet me at the gates, and ensure that nothing can trace us to it.”

“No, the Arrancars invaded before I could figure it out—but at this point, it doesn’t matter.”


He walked along the tiles, his eyes shifting down to the surviving Shinigami, before he flickered away from them all.



---------To Seireitei General-------->


 

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Droplets of water sent into the air by her descent back into her depths coalesced into a tendril, wrapped tightly around a sharpened coral and gold shell that had been sent soaring through the air. No one would suspect something as silly or measly as a shell would be a problem. Tracking those she could, Cordelia decided the dog man was her best bet right now. Since the shell had already been flying through the air, the tendril lashed out in the blink of an eye, forcing the shell into the dog’s throat as the tendril began to evaporate from the heat of his zanpakuto. As the tendril fell away from the heat, it seemed to collapse toward the young woman with the electrified blades, holding its shape as it did so.

As the crackle of kido energy filled the air, Cordelia had been swept away through the pathways that spread out from under Thirteenth into the neighboring divisions. Her eyes narrowed and turned toward the direction she just came from as her waters back in Thirteenth evaporated from the strike and lightning coursed through the rest both toward her and toward the shinigami girl through the tendril that was collapsing toward her. Cordelia’s clawed nails that had been tracing the walls around her as she moved dug deeper, pulling at the water that had soaked into it, causing the tunnel to collapse between her and the racing kido while forming a hole open into Third Division. The moment the sun above touched her skin, she vanished from the perceived safety of her waters.

As the whine of static filled the quiet of Third Division, Cordelia appeared upon a rooftop near the wall between Third and Thirteenth as black ink flooded this section of the Seireitei. Her feet planted on the rooftop, her hair and eyes wild as something she hadn’t felt in years gripped her. Fear. She watched as Shinigami descended into the inky abyss and didn’t resurface.This was a man that held no qualms with killing his own kind to achieve his goals and that made him far more dangerous than she had originally thought. She killed her kind out of necessity for her own survival, he did so out of what? Some twisted sense of duty or loyalty? Just for the hell of it?

The incompetence of the previous captain had instilled upon her a false sense of where she stood against these people. She was strong. She knew that, but she also knew there would always be those stronger than her. The yearning for the power to protect herself and survive was a powerful motivator, but so was fear. As water pooled at her feet and flowed off the rooftop and into the ink below, Emillia’s face flashed through her mind. Would this be where their partnership would end, not with the betrayal that Cordelia assumed would be the end of them but with defeat?

Hunger.

I hunger!


Taro had succeeded at driving Cordelia out of her hiding place. However, everywhere she went, so too did her waters. Her eternal hunger and the growing urge to level the rest of that gods forsaken division threatened to consume her thoughts, but she didn’t know what this ink could do so she didn’t want to run the risk of disturbing it with another cero or accidentally ingesting any of it. The water that was pooled beneath her swelled out into a protective vortex around her miniscule being. An eerie glow began to emanate from her fins. As she vanished from her perch, so too did the water.

To the average shinigami, Cordelia would appear to have used a run-of-the-mill sonido, but as the telltale sound of her movement rang out around the haughty captain, she didn’t just appear nearby. The moment the static hum began a watery tendril shot out from the inky depths and coiled around Taro’s leg as the oceanid barreled head first at immense speed into the gut of the red-headed robe rat. The impact of her Chokasoku coupled with the energy generated by her vortex still spiralling tightly around her would cause enough force to propel them both into the wall surrounding the decimated and drowned division. Cordelia’s clawed fingertips of one hand pierced into Taro’s core as her other hand plunged her golden barb up between his ribs and into his cold heart; her water spreading out around his form tight enough to crush his bones.

A cold emptiness buried itself deep within Cordelia’s soul. No more thoughts of those taken or lost or even the one she might leave behind, only action. A desperate fight for survival. Just like that, as quickly as she appeared, she vanished, her nails ripping chunks of flesh from his torso as her serrated barb caused more trauma as it ripped from his heart. The only thing left was the faint buzz of static which only grew more distant as she distanced herself from the unknowns that this captain posed in this fight.

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GhoulBunny

Member

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Ren had barely adjusted to the sickening calm that came after that roaring, hell-born Cero Doble when things shifted again. Like a nightmare. She stood—or floated, really—still perched atop her circle of lightning blades, each one humming faintly beneath her feet. From above, she could see almost all of it. The ruined barracks of the Thirteenth, the boiling ink swallowing buildings, the whirlpools gone quiet, and mist still lingering like ghosts that refused to fade.


A shiver ran up her spine.


She hadn’t died. That thought buzzed in her brain. Somehow, some damn how, she was still standing.


“Gyōja! Ren! Tell me you’re okay!”


She jerked toward the sound—saw Hyoroshi high on a rooftop. He was alive. Relief washed over her so fast it nearly knocked her off balance. But she didn’t speak. She didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself.


She smiled—but just barely.


Because then something shifted again.


Captain Date.


Even from afar, she was able to see the red headed man standing atop a black sea of ink—an actual sea of ink, because that’s just what today was now apparently.


He hadn’t even moved to help when Cordelia was blasting Ceros like party favors…what was different now?


A chill crawled up her arms as she watched the ocean of ink move beneath him. Her throat tightened. She wondered if this would be enough to give them an advantage.


He was… powerful. That wasn’t even a question. But the part that twisted her stomach wasn’t that. It was the way he did it. The way he barely seemed to care.



Ren had seen the shell slam into Hyoroshi’s throat before her brain could even process what the hell just happened. One second he was shouting and the next, there was a flash of coral and—



“NO!”


Her scream cracked into the chaos around her, but it didn’t stop what was coming.


The water—the thing—that had connected to him, it didn’t just vanish. It moved. As it peeled away from the heat of his Zanpakutō, the tendril coiled, slithered, redirected like it was alive. And then it collapsed inward toward her—toward the storm of blades around her.


“Oh come the HELL ON—!”


Ren reacted on instinct. Her legs braced, one foot pivoting against the vibrating steel beneath her as the blade shifted. Amanozako responded in perfect sync, the segment she stood on dropping out from beneath her just as the tendril whipped forward.


She let her body fall with it.


The moment she thought she was going to fall right into the ink ocean made by the Captain, a few more blades swept under her—faster than she could think, barely more than sparks and motion. They crisscrossed, forming a sharp X beneath her. She landed crouched, skimming low across the air just as the collapsing water tore through the space she’d been standing in.


Lightning arced as it made contact with one of her outer blades—just enough for it to hiss, flicker, and explode in a burst of steam and static.


But it missed.


Her eyes were wide, heart slamming so hard she thought it might break through her ribs. She didn’t have time to sit there and think about it. The battlefield didn’t care about “too close.” It was either move or die.


Her blades reeled back into orbit, lightning dancing across the gaps. Her body swayed atop them, low and tense like a wild animal—ready to move again, if she had to. She made sure to go back up to the sky, again away from the chaos below.


She was out of her league. Way, wayyyyy out.


And yet—


Somehow, she was still alive. Terrified. But alive.


Another sonido—and this time, aimed directly at the freaky Captain.


Ren saw the crash happen like a bomb—Cordelia slamming into him, water everywhere. There was blood. The impact was so fast, so brutal, Ren didn’t even process it until it was already over.


And then—Cordelia vanished again.


Ren stood there, frozen.


She didn’t know who had won that clash. All she knew was one thing:


somehow, some way—despite how scary Cordelia was—she couldn’t help to be freaked out by the Captain as well.
 

Nobody

Member

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A deafening sound echoed from the thunderclap of the Captain's Raikōhō. To the laymen it was a simple display of a spell, but those versed in the arts knew better. Not only had the Captain foregone any sort of incantation, but even the nature of the spell and its number, calling only upon the spell's name. Through name alone the spell was not only conjured but held both a dazzling and frightening display of destructive power as it crashed down onto the water. It reminded the Kuchiki of just how much farther he had to go. Had his spells been of this strength, perhaps their strategy would have secured them a victory, or gotten them closer to it.

No

If he had such power, something like a strategy probably would not have been needed. Maybe then the others would have been protected, Ren's safety would have been a guarantee instead of a mere constant hope around every turn.
"Gyoja! Ren! Tell me you're okay!"


Gyōja turns towards the direction of the voice. Hearing the sound of Hyoroshi's voice brings pause to the inner voices of doubt and self deprecation. He had come to offer them aid in their darkest hour despite the risks and dangers to himself, and he had survived. Gyōja truly was grateful for that. The Captain's voice cuts through the moment telling them his plan. The man who had stood by and watched them suffer now called upon them to act. As aggravating as it was, he knew they were in no position to complain. Among the four of them present, he alone held the greatest position and power to make a difference against this enemy.

"Wha- HYOROSHI!!!"

He'd caught the glimpse of something streaking through the air towards the large framed Hyoroshi, noticing only when it was upon his ally. What was it? Had Hyoroshi been able to block or dodge it? Unable to determine the safety of his ally, the Captain either unaware or unconcerned proceeds on, his reiatsu flaring as he unleashes his Bankai.

And what a Bankai it was.

Waters once pristine as they were deadly and dangerous become corrupted, dyed in a deep black that consumes them and stretches further beyond. A Bankai of this scale, just how much reiryoku did it demand, how long did it take to craft such power? To master it?

”You and your clan are a disgrace. To think a Kuchiki is here and the situation is not resolved. Follow the Shiba’s example and vanish from relevance.”



Gyōja clenches his teeth, fingers gripping the handle of his shikai so tight his knuckles turn white. He was well aware of how powerless and laughably pathetic he was right now. But, now wasn't the time for that.

"Captain, Hyoroshi is-"

Cut off by the sight of the enemy or...what he could only assume was the enemy, or something conjured by her circling around the Captain. It was foolish and perhaps a level of arrogance to believe that the Captain needed aid from the likes of him but..he had to do something.​

In the course of circling around the newly arrived Captain, a golden flash descended upon them. It was a massive jagged arc of energy carving its way through the air. The scale of the spell was such that even Captain Date was in its cross hairs, but that was no issue. A man of such power wouldn't be paused or concerned by such a spell from him. Truth be told, he had no confidence in this even truly harming the Espada, which was ok. He just needed to disrupt her. The glow that was around his hand now faded, revealing that this very spell is the one he had been holding for the duration of their confrontation, maintaining until he found the right moment to release it. While this wasn't the intended time, it would do for now.

"Bakudō #73. Tōzanshō"

A towering inverted pyramid forms beneath him and around whatever remained of the structures immediately under him. Its purpose was not to protect them or seal anyone or anything. No, rather it was done to give him some footing, even if only temporary. The mist beast that had been holding him up releases him, the Kuchiki landing with a soft tap. The mist born from his zanpakutō churns and writhes all around him, covering the entirety of the top of the inverted pyramid in its nigh impenetrable overcast, various faces of beasts able to be made out here and there within the mist.

"Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings-"

He begins to chant, zanpakutō still in hand. He was concerned about Hyoroshi, wanted to go check on him, help him in any way he could...but, they also couldn't allow the Captain to go down. One Captain was already gone, a second would certainly spell their deaths. Even if it was merely providing a nuisance against the enemy, that would suffice. If the enemy had to focus on both the Captain and him, it meant that an opening would reveal itself. Not only that, it would also mean that they weren't focused on Hyoroshi...or Ren.

Like the Captain said...he was a disgrace. He was weak, useless...pathetic. Yet still, he was a Shinigami. He'd play his part well, in whatever role that was.

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Hyoroshi Iwamura

New member
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No verbal response was had, but Iwamura didn't need it; the Reiatsu of his comrades was flowing strong, a little shaken, but unabated. He allowed himself a single whiff of brevity that draped itself around his adrenaline-charged wariness like a warm coat, taking just the edge off the gnashing, icy reality of what they'd just narrowly avoided. It was a welcome reprieve, and with it, Hyoroshi returned his turbocharged focus to what mattered--the Date in the corner of his eye and the Espada that had fallen out of sight.

”I will attack her from below, you lot attack from above. Rest assured, this Sand Vermin will not escape us without becoming a corpse first.”

He registered the order, acknowledged it in his head, but before Taro had finished, Hyoroshi's attention snapped to a tendril of water coalescing and rippling to life, stationary and suspended in the space where the Arrancar had once been. A threat, his subconscious noted. Of what kind he wasn't sure yet, though primed wariness, muscle memory and his deep experience with Hollows lifted his arms and blades as his body preemptively started to shift to a different section of the wall.

Within the tendril a glint of light twinkled golden, coral, a shell--projectile. Hyoroshi's world slowed to a crawl. His right foot took its step; his left pushed off its perch, inch by inch.

'Surprise attack, have to warn--'

One blink and the threat in front of him was evaporating away just as an excruciating, searing pain and the spraying of crimson flooded his senses. The world tilted down beneath his vision, his head tilting up and out, the sensation of gravity starting to take hold as he realized he'd been knocked completely off-balance. He brought a sideways glance, eyes wide, down towards the half-circle gash sliced clean through the top of his shoulder and the sinew connecting it to his neck.

Had he been an instant slower...

Iwamura landed stomach-first on the destroyed wall he'd been moving towards with a pained grunt, his body straddling the strip of tough foundation in a sort of awkward bear hug. The blood audibly gushed; his left shoulder howled with the smallest movements. Thankfully, his right hand had kept a vice grip upon his sun-scorching Zanpakuto, and with it he swung the one dangling blade around and caught it with his left. Sweat glistened off the lengths and tips of individual hairs.

'Need to keep moving!'

Hyoroshi's teeth were bared in a painful snarl when he lifted back up to his feet on the wall-top, but the radically-changing battlefield gave him a moment's pause. The Espada had retreated but could still be smelled in the vicinity, her water below shifting from murky blue to pitch black with Taro's unleashing Bankai. To his right Iwamura spotted the inverted pyramid lifting up and catching Gyoja from his mist. He couldn't immediately spot Ren, but she had had her own Zanpakuto to balance on--his faith promised him of her well-being.

From one building to the next Hyoroshi moved, wincing from the pain but acclimated to it with his centuries of combat experience, until he dropped from the ruined remnants of one building and onto the inverted pyramid.

"Oof, damn it," Iwamura grunted as he landed on one knee. Whether or not Gyoja turned to try and lend a hand, Hyoroshi straightened up on his own. "She got me good, but I'm fine. We need to--"

His attention darted to the sudden and frenzied blitzing of the Espada upon Taro Date with a feral desperation on her face as she tried to rip and tear through the Captain. Hyoroshi's eyes flashed a strange look...something resembling pity.

"Gyoja!" Hyoroshi spoke without averting his gaze from the ongoing assault. "She must've figured out the threat that Captain Date poses, but I don't think he's going down that easily. If he wears her down and there's an opening, we have to collapse on her. If we can get in close, we can finish this!"
 

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Adonai

Administrator
Staff member
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Cordelia’s mistake of resigning Taro to a mere side thought cost her dearly in the form of her water advantage being taken from her in an instant. The way she moves currently, this frenzied close range assault tells Taro that this lot must have been relying heavily on ranged based attacks to fight her. With one Captain and a seated member dead by her hands she must surely assume all Shinigami to be weak ranged based fighters, that they are all fragile. It is an interesting assumption to make if that was the one she was making, but it matters very little to Taro Date, in fact with her coming in close she has turned this from a battle into a routine Hollow cleansing.

What of his thoughts on the attack she launched on the other Shinigami? Non-existent. They have their own autonomy, they are soldiers of the Gotei Thirteen, if they cannot fend for themselves and need a Captain to save them at every turn then they are better off dead. His only concern, his only focus is removing this enemy from their home, no more, no less. If he purges the root cause of the problem then all other issues cease to be. She will never distract him by attacking the others, Taro would run through his own mother if it meant being able to stab through this Arrancar as well. Such is the way of things when someone embodies protection of the Soul Society above all else. Now he will show it.

Ruthless Horror

Cordelia launches herself at Taro but not before trying to secure him in place with a tendril around his leg that shoots from the depths of his ink. He wasn’t planning on moving, but it is a choice he will make of his own volition, not one aided by Hollow scum. That tendril slips down his leg and is rapidly pulled off and down into the ink, his Shihakushou is torn and there is some bruising on his leg, a testament to how tightly bound the tendril was. But even if there is a bruise he can still move without limping, it would take the severance of that leg to cause a mobility issue for this Captain. Taro holds up his Zanpakuto to block the jagged arc of energy launched by the Kuchiki, however it is blocked in a way that would only protect himself and not Cordelia, though she has problems of her own…

She uses Chokasoku to accelerate her speed to slam into his gut head first, his face is covered in shadow, his reaction to this visceral attack is unknown. They slam into a wall, all is dust and debris around them for a few moments but with the splashing of ink the dust doesn’t linger for long. Her hand lunges forward and into his core and she feels her hand go numb soon after. Her body shifts against its will with the sound of metal clashing with metal. When all has become clear she has found herself in the one place no one would wish themselves to be, in the vice-like grip of Taro’s hand. Above all things Taro Date excels in close quarters combat, so much so that he has opted to use a series of throws and grabs as the foundation of his Hakuda. Cordelia couldn’t have known this because if she did she would have kept her distance from him.

That shift in her body was the feeling of her cold hand being removed from the core of his body. The hand had gone cold from the immediate loss of blood flow, a grip so strong it forced her hand to remain open, unable to do any further damage once it was latched onto. What of the Chokasoku and the impaling, shouldn’t he be ready to topple over? No, as stated Taro excels in close quarters combat, he knows he will trade blows which is why his Reiryoku reinforces his bodily durability and physical strength. The clashing of metal? The sound of him parrying her golden barb with his own Zanpakuto, did she think he would not use it to defend or counter her? This parry was made easier due to the fact that he forced her to move and twist away from him. Then what came next would be a sound and act that all Shinigami in ear shot will live with for the rest of their lives…

There is a gigantic splash in the ink, blood is barely visible as it trails downward, following the path of Cordelia. Was this splash the thing they would remember? No it is what happened before, the splash merely snapped them out of a trance. Words cannot describe the sound of a humanoid arm being forcefully ripped out of its shoulder socket, tearing of muscle, snapping of tendons, and ripping of flesh. There is no sound effect that can recreate such a horrid sound, no onomatopoeia to describe it either. This alone isn’t enough to lock everyone in a trance, no what aided it was the face of how it was done. Wide eyed, bulging veins in his arm and face, an uncanny look of fury and anger etched on his face, Taro swings her downward with full force, completely severing the arm that dared to invade his torso. The splash into the ink caused this instantaneous moment of barbarity to cease and all that remained was Captain Date, covered in ink, holding the severed arm of the Arrancar. Her bold strategy to blitz him with barbaric fury was countered by his own barbarism.

He drops below the waves of the ink, sinking down, down, and down… He floats down past Cordelia who may be in a form of shock due to the sudden and brutal removal of her arm, something that she may have never experienced, not even at the hands of another Hollow. By this point she should realize that she is not fighting a Shinigami, she is fighting a real, true to life, monster. Taro lets go of her arm and the moment it is set free it is lost to the darkness of the ink. He floats below her, a smile on his face, if she wishes for revenge, then fine she can make an attempt. But down here, in the sea of Ink, she is an unwelcomed guest and also prey to a much larger aquatic beast. If her eyes could focus she would be able to see it, the monstrosity beneath the waves that has been consuming her Arrancar army that she let loose in the Northwest…

Kurogane
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As Taro said, he will attack from below while the others attack from above. Cordelia is now below, does she know how far down she has drifted into the sea of ink? Does she possess the mental capacity to snap herself out of shock and swim to the surface? She will have to think very quickly on this topic or let instincts guide her as the leviathan raises its head and looks at her, opening its black maw to reveal white Reiryoku coalescing within it and one of the discs on Taro’s blade go dark. It unleashes a massive beam of Reiryoku from its maw, enough to encapsulate and vaporize Cordelia in one fell swoop. The ink on the surface begins to rumble before the massive white beam rockets into the sky all the way until it hits the soul membrane that surrounds the Gotei Thirteen and is vaporized by said membrane.

In Shikai Kurogane’s fish drift around, seemingly aimless. While they can attack and be used as platforms for Taro they are actually prepping for his Bankai. Consuming ambient Reiatsu to not only affect how much the ocean of ink will spread but also how many times it can fire these concentrated beams of Reiryoku. The amount of Reiryoku Taro possesses does not affect the scale of his Bankai in the slightest, but rather how much energy his foes and allies expend while fighting him or around him. This is why he did not act right away, it was to give Kurogane time to feed. The results paid off well as he can now fight with his Bankai at full power.

Did Cordelia survive the beam of Reiryoku or was she forced back to the surface only to prolong her inevitable death? Either way she will be doing so without an arm and should she regenerate it, Taro will more than likely take advantage of it. Then an announcement came through, one that put a horrifying look of joy on the face of this monster.

"The Espada have been cut off from their access to the Soul King parts, but this is only temporary, and the enemy lost use of Garganta as long as the 12th division stands, so please make this count for all we have lost!"

Standing on the head of the massive leviathan rises Taro, holding his face and laughing hysterically at the news he just got.

”HAHAHA! Such fast and timely work by one of Captain Harai’s people, I’d expect no less! If you survived, you moon howling wretch, know that you are locked in here with us. I shall pull your body apart piece by piece until there is nothing left of you…”

This has become an instance of who is the real monster, Cordelia or Taro?


 

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Cordelia shifted her body just enough to avoid the blast from the Kuchiki’s kido as she propelled herself at Taro Date, but not enough to throw off her trajectory. Her intent had never been to hold the Captain in place. Even as her tendril was ripped away from his body upon her impact, her water still saturated his uniform and spread. Feeling the warmth of his blood against her fingertips for even the briefest of moments was like basking in the sun of the human world. A thrilling, grand experience she was certain she may never encounter again.

As the sound of her own ripping flesh filled her ears, her waters pressed tighter against Taro’s reinforced form and forced its way into his body through his ears and nose, rupturing his eardrums, filling his lungs in less than a second, and forcing its way through the thin membrane leading to his skull cavity. The pressure of the waters against his outer body was that of 1,100 atmospheres, popping his deliciously squishy eyes. Adding to the visceral symphony, the water within his lungs and skull swelled, rupturing his lungs, bursting his veins and arteries, and tearing his grey matter to shreds. .

Desperation is a peculiar thing.

It makes those set in their ways make peculiar choices. Cordelia had attempted to turn off her thoughts just as she had her emotions centuries ago, but much the same, they wriggled their way back in without her even realizing. She did not fear this monster before her anymore, even as her arm was severed, her blade parried, and her body consumed by the ink. She could swear she almost saw Emillia’s face in the darkness and that brought her comfort. Comfort in knowing that sometimes to survive one must flee and there was nothing wrong with that. A strange heaviness settled in her being, like something had been taken from her. Her intact hand absentmindedly traced a circle in the ink before her. Nothing happened. She hadn’t needed to try, but she did anyway just to confirm her suspicions.

Whether Taro Date survived or not was no longer any of her concern. She only thought of herself. Swimming to the surface of the ink, Cordelia let out a loud hauntingly melodic sound. A pillar of light surrounded her, cutting her off from the chaos she had helped create within the Seireitei before any other attacks could hit her. She cradled herself in water, weary from her battles and watching her arm regenerate as Negacion takes her home. Her gaze raked over those who remained one final time, certain she’ll never see them again. Right?

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GhoulBunny

Member
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Cordelia wasn’t looking at her. Wasn’t paying hardly any attention to Gyōja or Hyoroshi either. She was locked onto Taro Date like a starved predator that had just realized it ran into a bigger predator. And Ren—blessed, chaotic, trying-her-best Ren—was totally fine being forgotten for now.



A golden flash ripped across her peripheral vision. Ren’s eyes shot toward it. For a second, she thought it was a new enemy, a fresh nightmare dropping in to make this whole hellscape even worse—but then she caught the sight of purple hair and she knew it was Gyōja.



The ground beneath him shifted, light folding in geometric shapes, forming into a massive inverted pyramid.



Ren recognized Tōzanshō immediately, her mind cycling through the incantation on reflex like an old Academy lesson.


He was giving himself footing. Just enough to land. And as his mist released him and he dropped softly onto the golden base, the whole top of the pyramid was veiled in thick, shifting mist—shapes, beasts, things with eyes and snouts, coiling through the fog like something out of a fever dream. She could barely see him inside of it.


She stayed high above, riding her segmented lightning like stepping stones strung across the sky. From here, she could see the black ink churning far below, swallowing entire structures, coating everything it touched. Then she allowed her eyes to focus on him.


Captain Taro Date.


She had never seen him in person before, but she’d heard the rumors. That he was ruthless. Dangerous. That he didn’t really care who got caught in the crossfire as long as the job got done. Honestly, Ren always thought that was a bit of dramatic academy. But now? She watched him cast Raikōhō with no chant. Just boom. Water gone. Cordelia exposed.


Even from up here, her legs felt shaky.


The ink sea writhed. It swallowed buildings and bodies alike. Ren had to hop to another platform as her previous one began to flicker from the pressure of residual Reiryoku and whatever that was coming off Date. She kept her gaze locked on him. She was lowkey scared of him.



But she couldn’t help but to respect him. Because damn it—he had Cordelia reeling. Actually reeling. After everything she’d seen—the Cero, the coral traps that woman had looked untouchable. And yet now? Bleeding. Desperate. Even Ren could see it in the way she was retreating across the battlefield, limping on instinct.


And when Cordelia had struck him it wasn’t the end. It was the beginning of the most horrific thing Ren had ever witnessed.


Taro didn’t fall. He didn’t even flinch. He grabbed her, then ripped her arm off.


Ren’s stomach turned. It was violent. Animalistic. Her hand covered her mouth instinctively. She didn’t realize her breathing had gone shallow.



Then it hit—an amplified voice cutting through the chaos, sharp and clear.



“The Espada have been cut off from their access to the Soul King parts, but this is only temporary, and the enemy lost use of Garganta as long as the 12th Division stands, so please make this count for all we have lost!”



Ren’s breath hitched.



She blinked, almost unsure she’d heard right, then clenched her jaw tight.



“No way…” she whispered. “Soul King parts?”



And then—she turned her head sharply, watching as Cordelia’s body surfaced from the thick ink below. A pale pillar of light erupted around her in the distance. She was retreating



“AHHH HELL! SHE’S DISAPPEARING AGAIN!!”



There was bitterness in her tone, yes. But also… relief. She watched Cordelia’s retreat without pursuit.



And then, she was gone. Just like that.



Ren’s heart thumped too loud in her ears. She looked at where the light had been, then down again—searching for Hyoroshi. Her stomach dropped when she finally caught sight of him: bloodied, hunched, but still standing. She’d seen the tendril hit him earlier. Right in the throat.



“HEYYY!! DOG MAN!! YOU BETTER MAKE IT OUT OF THIS YA HEAR!”



They all were okay. For now. She didn’t know if there was going to be another threat or not. But she couldn’t help it. She had to cover her mouth again as she felt a sob of relief almost leave her lips.
 
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