HankMoody
New member
Waves of battle raged on throughout the confines of the Seireitei, with the rumbling of reiatsu from every corner of the the four quadrants, zanpakuto were released and swung in the defence of the Soul Society. It would only be a wonder what the Rukongai citizens may have thought, seeing rain in one area, snow in another, and autumn fall in the far reaches of its own sector. The atmospheric pressure was palpable, and even with the aid of the captains who sought to defend and protect the place they called home, the soldiers—the shinigami who served them also fought with valor and with honor. Despite the seasons clashing against one another, much like the clashes of spiritual energy that littered the shiro that they dwelled within. Yūichirō feared, that if the fighting continued, the very foundation of the Shakonmaku (遮魂膜, Soul-Warding Membrane; Viz "Soul Shield Membrane") could be altered or at the worst possibility; breakdown entirely.
He however could only be focused on the task before him, concerning himself with the aftermath of the Seireitei would have to come after, once they’ve saved it. Although his arrival might’ve seemed sudden he scanned and studied the terrain before him, properly analyzing the situation across the battlefield before even making his first move. It had been some time since he had been a participant in a large-scale attack or assault of this magnitude, but he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. He drew on those experiences well-enough, granting him a level of foresight most were not fortunate to have.
This was expertly displayed in his approach on the wolf-reminiscent beast that dared call itself greater than a death god. Ignorant of his own situation, blinded by his own grotesque power and drunk off of the deluded ideals he possessed that he would dare be a living witness to the cool blue jewel that shrouded the largest star in the sky. It was also unbeknownst to him, that the esteemed teacher has already been acclimated to gravity-based abilities due to his previous superior, the Captain of the Third Division.
The hound used his gravity to anchor and propel himself through the unruly current of the tendril that consumed him. Already weakened by the acid rain of the Captain of the Fifth Division, he never considered that water tended to form and coagulate…with other water. The burning rain that poured from the sky formed within the bankai of Yūichirō, transforming its properties ever so slightly to carry the effects of the seafoam-haired shinigami. What the hollow would fail to realize, is that he wouldn’t have legs or the muscle tissue to propel himself with as once he entered the water's sinister vacuum. With him already injured by the attack, his form would rapidly change as whatever remaining flesh, bone, fabric or even organs that were once associated with his body would be assimilated in the caustic current he willfully entangled himself within. His arm slowly melts as it attempts to reach through the vacuum with his vanishing strength with no cero of any fashion formed. He then shortly after, would become an unrecognizable blob of flesh within the same seconds he was engulfed, slowly shrinking as the current quickly swept him up within seconds of his going overboard. The one they called Grimaldi, was now lost at sea.
A momentary pause in the action would take place as the waves of the vagido had come and gone, his reiatsu still flared, so as not to be lost in the shuffle of the fight. His attention would be grabbed towards the aiding hollow and the adversarial one. It was clearly more than a difference of opinion, and certainly a little less than a lovers quarrel. The one who bore violet hair and had mismatched eyes appeared to have been betrayed by the other shorter, brat looking hollow, he called him Kuvello, and lamented that his death should have taken place decades ago by his hand. “Damn.” was all the teacher could think. A dramatic soliloquy in his estimation but the lines of battle were drawn and they were clear: one posed a threat and the other didn’t. For now.
He continued to watch as things played itself out in the following seconds, as the violet-haired hollow brandished his weapon born out of pure reiatsu. He seemed rather formidable and impressive as far as the hollows he has come across goes. He then turned to the educator to ask if they were going to see eye to eye on the matter at hand. The esteemed tutor looked away from him momentarily, in disbelief that he would be collaborating with this monster. “Tsk. If the captain hasn’t killed you yet, I'm sure there’s a reason. Let's get through this first before worrying about alle-” he would reply before their collective attention was ripped from their conversation as the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, un-ensnared from the pedagogue's previous lashing, with the use of the sonīdo technique.
The arrancar known as Estarossa, then swiftly made his move on the short Primera by impaling his blade through the skull of his former comrade. The lash of water still enroute towards his visage. “That. Was almost too easy…” he thought, and it was. It wouldn’t be long after the Primera’s eyes rolled back in his head…then jutted forward again. Fingers break out of the cracked skull, peeling away the flesh, bone and hair like wet paper, with the excess forming around the blade that Estarossa impaled him with, securing the sword in its place in a mutated mess. It was a strange sight to behold, but it was a concept the teacher had covered in his various classes over the years in loose discussions.
He had never seen anything like it until this point, watching as it emerged from its previous husk now seemingly immune to the prior effects on display in the battlefield. Within seconds, he studied the speed and apparent resolve of the monster brat, and drew one conclusion. “The Soul King's Left Arm. What kind of creature is this…?” he spoke to himself. He had seen monsters before but ones such as this up close were the things of nightmares. The first thing to truly shock him in quite some time. “A demon, truly. He cannot be allowed to live.” he said audibly, loud enough for those around him to hear. Then a shihakusho clad creature entered the battle, but based on its reiryoku and recognizing it as familiar to the arrancar Estarossa wasted little time in combating. The waters fierce currents severed, seemingly now destabilized to the overachieving brat—not unlike the students he once taught. However, unlike them, he seemed to have no capacity of understanding that the sea always remembered its wounds. Once cut—its teeth are bared.
In the same moment he severed the currents connection, as normal waves do once slashed—the water will recoil. The tendril swiftly bifurcates, spawning two more in its place, slightly smaller, but much more precise and faster in its travel and reach, which would now target both the “fake” and the “real” imp alike. Taking his hand, rife with a glowing golden reiatsu, and launching a mess of rectangular shaped spiritual energy towards the shihakusho wearer, instantly recognizing him as no one who served the Seireitei. The launched kido would then go on to not only slam into him with concussive force, but also attach themselves to the Arrancars extremities, trapping both arms, legs and head, while encapsulating him in a full-body sized rectangle, and having his limbs be spread and stretched outward as he is unable to move or summon any further spiritual energy. But the teacher would not yet be finished.
With an expertly executed flick of his wrist in one motion upon impact, he would lash out the two whips to grab hold onto the would be travelling body of the fake shinigami, becoming tethered by the ankle, the water tendril morphing mid-motion into a clenched aquatic fist and ripped the enemy down below towards the heap of rubble with a superb level of force and a speed reckoned that of a slingshot or rubber-band. That was Shizukana’s chance to catch him off guard as his body would uncontrollably be sent to the waste of the former academy. The second tendril latched onto the body of the mutated variant of the one he had just thrown, launching him farther upwards into the sky, along with Estarossa should he be fool enough to not remove his hands from the hilt of his zanpakuto. In this move, the teacher effectively meant to separate the two battles, despite having a numbers advantage, the capabilities of their enemy made up for his lack of allies. This would take precise coordination on the parts of the three invested in the continuation of the Seireitei.
“Prevent their escape, Captain Kurayami! We must end this sooner rather than later!” he bellowed towards the magenta-hued leader. “This invasion has gone on long enough.” finishing his thought. Hoping this plea would spur the captain into quick action wherever she was located on the battlefield, and seamlessly coordinate her next actions with the capture or death of this bratty beast. He then began to quickly snap his fingers with his free hand, while whistling off key and snapping off beat. His visage would grow a peach-colored outline representative of his growing reiryoku. He would continue to snap and whistle, until the correct moment to strike.
