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Welcome to The Platinum Hearts Scroller. Here you can find our most recent Of the Year and Of the Season winners. Happy Roleplaying! --- Member of the Year: Locke --- Character of the Year: Alastair Eisfluch --- New Characters of the Year: Mizu Morikawa and Igendai Gyakusuma --- Social Thread of the Year: A Letter for Hymn --- Combat Thread of the Year: Raise Your Spirits --- Member of the Season: Paradigm --- Characters of the Season: Byakuya Kuchiki and Klein Schwarzwotan --- Applications of the Season: Armina Willsaam and Klein Schwarzwotan --- Fight Thread of the Season: Search and Destroy --- Social Thread of the Season: Damage Assessment --- Event Thread of the Season: Midnight Assault
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Tue Oct 27, 2015 12:05 pm
[PLAY 'THE TRACK IN THE YOUTUBE BAR WHILE READING THIS POST]



Artist: Gazelle Twin - Song: Still Life - Word Count: 749

Black, black, black dripping from the walls.

There was nothing here but desolation.

Locked far away in the furthest castle of Ākāśa Mandira, an atmosphere of absolute darkness tainted the once golden and placid terrain of The Demon Princess's lair. The sky was drenched in shadows, while the grass meshed with shades of silver and ink.

As the hues of oblivion turned duller, the air became silent and filled with glum. While in the distance -- a thump, thump, thump sound echoed and beat like the pulse of a heart throughout the range. A force of pure demonic command was filling in the air and something sinister seemed to await beyond the lair of the castle which belonged to the Priestess of Khalaism.

Many a soul stayed and gave the divine child her space following the aftermath of the Iceland Conflict. Something foul grew within her spirit, but it was a bond that had always been there. It had been beaten down, sealed within and put to rest like a tamed beast. Yet, with the revelation that she was indeed a monster, the need for it to arise again was upon the horizon.

Bit by bit, step by step; the closer one got to the scene of dread, the more audible the whispers from within became.

...

Kill them all.

...

This is ridiculous.

...

They'll come for you.

...

Let me handle them.

...

You know you want to.

...

You know you are tired of this.

...

Let's drop the act.

...

Let go of your restraints

...

And show them ALL what a child of "The Demon God" can do.

...

After all -- no one cares for you, child. You are a blight on this world. Not even those whom share your own blood understand this. They molded you into a weapon -- and broke you. It won't matter how much you attone and try to do right -- it is futile.

...

Your cries won't be heard. Your prayers won't be answered. Your salvation won't be had. Your soul is cursed.

...

So let go....and let vengeance be dealt.

...


Oil blood flowed everywhere and the whole of The Princess's chamber became filled with her essence. Yet -- it was alright. Perhaps this was the proper route to go. Letting the light of the soul bleed out and become consumed with nothingness. Tapping into the whole of her embodiment, killing off needless sentiments and washing away the sins of her own naivety and foolishness.

Letting go.

Letting go.

Let...tting....go.....

That is all she wanted to do in this state of disrupted consciousness. It is why "their" pull became stronger and the sinister power within grew stronger.

While hovering over a flood of her own sacred fluids, a reflection of a raven haired child with streaks of precious white hair was reflected. Her eyes were darker than any void, yet flesh resembled that of a human. Wearing nothing more than a tattered dress bathed in shadows, this creature was dressed for a laughable sense of modesty. For behind her was that of six wings; each with a crimson glow that lit-up the hellish abyss of her own solitude.

They were attuned. They were in the know. And they allowed her to view the true self. A self that was pure, proper and wholly -- demon. The self that her mother's, the world and the gods and even the false child herself tried oh so hard to block down.

Yet -- it would not go away. Not ever. Not in this existence. Not in the next. To remove the whole of this being would be to rewrite the universe itself through destruction and recreation. An impossible task for any known mortal creature.


But -- The Priestess still tried. The fire of hope had not been obliterated, but it was so, so dim. It would be easier to let this essence consume her whole and become a proper "God".

...

Yes

...

Become him.

...


That thought was oh-so tempting. To bypass the steps of Khalaism, ascend into the depths of Devaism. An unseen and unheard of hold of the fabled religion. For while Khala preached light, Deveta taught the inverse. Upon his throne of greed and self-worship, the footholds of demonkinds essence was built and this distorted self -- yearned to follow it.

It was....giving way....dying in.....and descending into its grasp.

Should nothing change.......then the future would be....

Black

black

black....

blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaackkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk............







Last edited by THEFROST on Mon Jan 21, 2019 5:46 am; edited 1 time in total


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Tue Oct 27, 2015 12:20 pm

A Priestess abandoned?
A Goddess unhanded?
Should she even keep on?
Faced with this question,
Pointed in one direction,
She is still just a youth...
And yet, he is the Truth.
Is she a weapon

"...I'm disappointed."

That phrase echoed around the inside of Neoveta's head, as out of the castle in the distance a cloud of bubbles emerged, flowing outwards by the hundreds, thousands, millions, flowing outwards as the gigantic tide flowed around and about, flowing into the foul muck around her body as the bubbles at among them, as before her eyes a presence slowly came into being, as an 'existence' gently faded in before her. Around the muck, a translucent barrier began to emerge, crystal-white in color and yet... almost invisible to the naked eye, as if a wall of force simply 'existed' in that location. So... who could this mysterious visitor be?

It was the Truth. He was here to see this child, who had been about to disturb one of the balances of this world. Not to mention how closely she was related to Khala... the being... whose divinity... he had stolen. He was False. That was true. And yet, he was still the Truth. He was Okiri, from the Black World. This child, however, was linked not only to Khala. She was linked with Iriko Crow as well. And right now, she was facing a choice, with her mind on the verge of falling to the influence of Deveta. That... was something that the Truth did not... want to happen. That should not happen. If that were to happen, the Truth understood what would occur. Therefore, he had come to this place, to give her a present. Although the present that he brought was not... only for her sake.

"...You… are still just a child, Neoveta…" The presence told her, as it continued to fade in, its entire body shining white as gently the rest of its luminescence faded, revealing a man who smiled at her tenderly. I am… The Truth, after all. Those words echoed around her very soul, as the being slowly lifted up its right hand, looking between its fingers as the bubbles around her body began to flow back towards the Divine Being who did not merge with his White-World self. That was not to say that he and Iriko Crow were not connected. They were connected quite strongly… not that Iriko was aware of it.

The Truth slowly reached down, his hand going into the oil as it burned his skin, before finally shining as he slowly presented it to her. "Why are you crying…?" He asked her, the black that he was holding slowly shifting, the burning pain flowing down from his divine hands as in his grasp was left only a shining gold, shining brighter than the reflection behind his body. "You are more than that… yes, that is a large part of you… but do you want to become him…?" The Truth asked her, the meaning of Sunshine Asthavon passing between them as he turned his head, looking at the oil around their bodies. "I'm actually holding him back… he's on the edge of my influence… meeting with a white wall the likes of which he's never met before. He is slowly striking it, harder and harder… but for reasons he cannot understand he cannot pass through." The Truth told her, before gently smiling at her, before sighing. "No, I'm not your father. But as The Truth, I can say simply: You are not a weapon." He told her, before finally gently closing his eyes. "...Now… in exchange for the hell of that darkness storming within you… I shall provide balance…" He let out, before simply leaning in, gently reaching out towards her as he placed a single hand gently on her head, before his entire body turned around, his presence vanishing once more from this place, his very existence seeming to seep away before her, although his 'presence' was still… around.

And then, at last, a being would slowly emerge from the darkness below her, the bubbles that had been imbedded within popping as more of his body rose, his head looking up to the sky as a male figure was slowly deposited outwards…







Credit to Dai for the template.
Words in white can only be understood by The Truth and to Neoveta only their 'meaning' can be felt.




Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.
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Tue Oct 27, 2015 2:43 pm

















Iriko Crow
The Dragon of the North, Seiryuu
..Where… am I…?

Gradually, the consciousness of Iriko Puzyri-Teimei began to return, as he tried to open his eyes. ...Failure… That single word coursed through his mind, his body emerging completely from the strange… blank space that he had been within. ...But… that's how it's always been… hasn't it…? My tears… dried up so long ago… self-pity… I gave up…

Slowly, the man's tilted back head moved forwards, as his body emerged entirely from the black muck that had been created from the priestess, his body slumping forwards as he shivered, his mouth panting slightly. Nothing… it's gone… it's… gone… The thoughts swam about him, his eyes slowly opening.

"...Where…?" Was the single word that he let out, before reaching up a hand, a platform of kido forming for a moment before it shattered, his body falling as he slumped down into the muck, his eyes slightly closing as he laid there for a moment. Disgusting… then that's perfect for me.. Isn't it…? His thoughts darkened with the color of his surroundings, before his back slowly curved behind him, his torso lifting itself up as he sat in the muck, looking up at the woman before him. "Neo...veta…" The single word passed his lips, before he looked to his left and his right, gaining an appreciation for his surroundings. Slowly, gold flame exuded around his body as strength began to return to his physical form, though his sense of 'self' was still quite drained.

"So that's it?" He asked her, his eyes closing slightly as he looked back up at her, leaning back. He had no clothing, now. But at this point, he could not bring himself to care in the slightest. "You will give yourself up entirely? You will allow yourself to be used and give up completely on your independence?" His words asked her, even as his head looked back. If Neoveta bothered to notice, he no longer had the bubble blower around his neck. Indeed, the only thing that marked his body as peculiar was the usual black scelera of his left eye. The only mark that he bore was the tattoo of a flame on his right shoulder.

Iriko could hear her over the 'bond'. He could feel her emotions and the turmoil in her soul. If she were to listen back to him, however… she could very well feel a bit of fear. His own soul seemed… almost 'dead'. More than any time when his body was beaten, battered, or broken, his mind kept working. Now, however… it had nearly stopped. The source of this was the fact that his Zanpakutō… was no longer with him. He was alone. For the first time in his life, he was actually, truly alone. Not that his zan had ever been much company, given that it had never been able to talk directly with him. At the same time… that tool had been with him for the last six hundred years. Now, he did not even have that fragment of his soul. Its loss, as well as the tragic events which had recently occurred in the Soul Society, had left the man feeling… lost. Well and truly… lost.

"You are a demon." He told her directly, his eyes rising to look into hers. "I do not know what I am doing here… but just as you recovered my body that time when I was allowed to face the Demon God… I would want to talk with you." He told her honestly, his body slowly shifting as his legs crossed, his head slowly moving back down as he tilted it slightly.

"So tell me with your words. Not anyone else's. You are more than the sum of your parts. That 'more'… is what I wish to hear about." He told her, his head slowly rising once more...





Core Elements Devised by Aivee




Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.
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Wed Oct 28, 2015 5:25 pm



Artist: MASA-P - Song: Beheading Dance - Word Count: 640

After her long travels within the human realm Blank was more than willing to head back home, while to others it would only seem like a short month and bit to her was nearly her entire life time. So when her tiny little feet her back onto the grounds of her homeland, the child was over thrilled; she barely even noticed the drastic changes. The very violent and swift of her tail had caused the tip of the vertebrae to swing off into the distance, the sudden weight change of her tail had brought her attention to where it landed. From there the child's attention to the scenery around her become very very clear, the ominous look of the world was way different than that of her first arrival. She almost felt a bit oppressed by it, but her anxiousness and potentially fear has swiftly changed to that of excitement, this wasn't something scary at all!

During her short (or very long) stay within the human realm she learned of a strange occurance called 'Halloween' this happened once a year and during the nighttime. A beautiful and haunted time where children dressed as scary monsters and ghosts to not be taken away by the monsters. Oh wait, could it have been they donated sweets to the monsters to save their own lives? Is that why kids dress up as monsters? With a quick step the child went to retrieve her boned tail by passing the barrier in which Truth had set up to and for some reason push Sunshine away. However since this child was apart of Sunshine she wasn't completely unharmed by this barrier, she instead only temporary felt a bit light headed and dizzy. She practically fell flat on her face when she sudden swooped down to grab the missing link to her tail, having a good first encounter with the odd goo that was everywhere.

The decorations on this place must have been done by a professional, Perhaps this was Khala's way of wishing us good luck on not being sucked away by evil monsters!! The castle in which was more often a lighter tone and much more inviting was swallowed up by the eerie darkness on this 'halloween night'. That very notion had excited the child so much a sudden squee of excitement had left her tiny lips, before a rush was made to the place. Learning information, reciting information and understanding information was something she was getting increasingly better at, so her making the connection that this much be what humans called a haunted house was her first thought. It was amazing, how can something be able to turn something as beautiful as her home into the perfect halloween disguise, truly amazing.

Running into the building would have been done with ease, it almost seemed like she was more than welcomed within the strange environment, and the loud clicks of her wooden sandals would have been echoed throughout the halls and stair wells, giving way of her position. Though you wouldn't have to be a trained professional that Blank was within the building as her tiny form had let out a screeching, "TRICK OR TREAT!!!"

She waited for someone to reply while she aimlessly explored the interior, she wouldn't have stopped her adventure until she was finally able to pick up the voice of someone else, perhaps this was a man? He sounded pretty depressing... MAYBE HE'S A GHOST!! The thought alone made little blank's tail straight out like a board, her movement becoming stiff before she'd swing her arms slightly towards the direction of the voice hitting nothing but air. There is no way there is ghosts! Khala would have taken them all away, Ghosts can't exist! Scared, but with the energy and adrenaline of a scared child, blank would have let out a tiny wail as she ran straight for the voice, her tiny form swinging her arms around like propellers on each side, "Back off evil ghost! You can't have my candyyy!!"




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Fri Nov 13, 2015 2:44 pm
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Artist: denshūto - Song: Haunt - Word Count: 1879

Disappointment?

To hell with his judgement.

The Void cared not for some half-dead deity's scorn upon her action. This was her domain, and in the space of the null, the princess of the bare and barren could conduct herself in any which manner her heart desired.

The only reason why he was not vanquished on sight is through the desire of her mothers blood still flowing within. As it is this contorted attachment to this figure that held his allowance into her lair in tact. Though, in the distance, there was another that she also had no qualms with when it came to whom and what may venture forth into her burrow of shade and melancholy.

So, with a devoid stare, the child of god stared back into the eyes of The Almighty Truth without a single shred of hesitance or dismay found upon her eyes. In fact, in that moment, The Godling would undoubtedly sense pools of Deveta's influence permeating within The Void of her being and the taint of her spirit was all but certain towards this point.

"You possess some of the most profound knowledge in the cosmos, yet you insist on calling me a child? Surely you are aware of the knowledge and insight my creators infused into me, are you not? If so, then you'd be an imbecile of a "God" to assume such things."

Rasp, hostile and irritated; the tone of "The Void" was anything but docile, serene and placid as Neoveta had been prior to the previous encounter each of these beings had within The Black World. There was a bitterness, distaste and absolute hatred brewing within her heart with each word she uttered. They spewed like venom in the abyss all around them; and it seemed, at any moment, her atmosphere of contempt could turn into one of violence to purge these words of blasphemy from The Divine Child's sight and sound.

It is why a scowl that could burn the hearts of men scorched itself across the face of Neoveta as she snarled and gave a low growl at the notion she was crying. No. These weren't tears of sorrow. This was the bleeding of a self that is not needed in this world. A self that is weak and too soft for its own good. To endure in this realm of beast, one must let go of those attachments and become the monster that prey fear. To embrace the blood of Deveta is to embrace the actuality of the world, it's people and the force needed to administer a spirit's will upon this reality. For change does not come by compassion and pleading, it comes through carnage and raw power; which is what Deveta represented in his standing of the fabled "Gods" of this universe.

Therefore, without a single word uttered, The Semi-Divine Child rose her hand in the air and conveyed these sentiments through telepathic empathy and understanding. Something akin to this level of change was not possible to articulate into words. Only feelings, thought and internal belief could fuel such a grasp of The Princess's altered state of mind.

"I am more than this? Don't utter sweet, idealistic tones under the taint of naivety. I am what I am and that is enough to sedate my being."

The uttering that The Princess was more than "The Void" was an absurd notion; not one befitting the conversing of divine communication. Hence, she reduced herself to words to communicate with a simplistic and dull stance such as that. The tone of her voice became further irked as this guest dared to tamper with her sibling and home.

So, through her own divinity, she burned and torched through his influence keeping Sunshine away. There would be a flaring of blood red light striking in the atmosphere around them as her mind decayed, rotted and mended away the shield attempting to keep her flesh and blood away. Why? This was not his sphere to call home. Therefore, as Ruler of this temple, This Priestess would see to it this invading influence would not have say over the operations of her sacred place of being.

"You do not dictate what I am, nor do my creators. I acknowledge I am a beast ill-fit to achieve anything without violence. So, I will continue consuming all into the void until nothing is left just as my father did and the rulers of the known realms of existence have done as well."

Gruff and to the point, The Void saw herself as something of a force of nature now. Truth was right in the proclamation that Neoveta was indeed not a weapon, but she wasn't a person either. No. She was simply something that guided Khalaist, Demon Kind and the desires of a dead girl to reality. Anything that stood in that path needed to be burned and reduced to nothingness. Devoured -- into the Void.

"And should you stand before my objectives, I will break you down, molecule by molecule, until nothing is left of your absurd rule as well. You know very well the potency of our families power, so do not tempt me."

With a single wave of her hand, The Semi-Divine swatted away the touch of Truth in a cloud of darkness that prevented him from coming into contact with Neoveta. This child did not desire a single mortal being to touch her; lest it was in combat and out of her control. Her body was a satanic temple and the only feeling she desired was the hold of her own hand. As, in this world of monsters, not a single one of these beings could begin to comprehend her; so it was natural to only have love for herself and no one else. Just as a true demon should.

It is why when Iriko Crow emerged naked and lost within her world, not a twinge of heartfelt anticipation thumped in her heart. Preceding the activation of The Void, the Neoveta of before would have been at a lost of words to see the man she gave her virginity to, her dedication to and held such a strong bond to. Yet, now, there was only -- nothing. She acknowledged him for what he was as a sentient being, but the emotion and yearning was long since dead and cast into the chasm of her emptied heart.

However, unlike Truth, there did not appear to be much aggression given. Perhaps the chain of connection between these two spirits still yielded a mild influence, but there was no reason to become hostile towards him. He was no threat. The man barely had enough strength to stand alone on his own two feet; yet alone become an obstacle towards her path. So, there was no need to become on guard and aggressive with him.

Thus, through this tolerance, she would listen and hear what rhetoric the male had to say towards her. With a simple shake of the head, The Void dissolved the notion that Neoveta was "giving up" on herself. Quite the opposite. To give up would mean to cease fighting. And, given the combative force of The Princess's will upon Iceland, it was clear "giving up" was out of her vocabulary.

The only thing the child believed she had done to herself was allow the true nature of her mind, body and heart to come forth. To break the restraints of her naive kindness was to accept her path in this world as a creature of sin and darkness. Her methods were wrong, her intents were murderous; but she still possessed the intention of upholding the word of Khalaism, the will of her people and protecting those under her watch.

It's just -- there was no place for her timid behaviors in a holy war that the world was prepared to storm upon her. If the world was without mercy, then she to must react and adjust accordingly. And, for Neoveta, that meant to turn to her savage origins and awaken the primordial desires of Deveta within.

Ergo, as she pointed her right index finger towards Iriko, those sentiments would be transferred and injected into his mind so that he may once again understand her point of view. If nothing else, the pitiful creature before The Void could at least use that cold to fill his being. As, while Neoveta scanned the male, it was apparent he was completely and utterly -- alone. However -- that was death in itself. It was a simple saying, but there was truth in phrase: "You live alone, you die alone." For, in the void, there is nothing but you, yourself and your thoughts to keep company. And as one falls further into the abyss, that is all they will find until the darkest shades of night are bled to be born within their soul and mind. This would be such the case for The Lone Crow as he made his own spiritual descent into nothingness.

Which is why, as this dying mortal yearned to speak with The Void, did it in turn allow him that request. As he had a connection to it, and from that tethering, did Neoveta feel content with allotting Iriko her attention.

"You may speak. I've given you my thoughts through feeling, so now it is time for you to "define" what this "more" is, Crow."

Before bothering with her own definition, however, The Void turned her dead eyes to the entrance of a child-like creature stepping forth into this den of glum and emptiness.

...

...

Baring the mark of Khalaism, Neoveta understood that she was one of her own and would allow this interruption. There was no point in growing frustrated; as it would be akin to becoming enraged at a dog for not being trained. You don't blame the dog, you blame the owner. Which, in this case, was The Void.

"Do not become frightened, Blank. This is no ghost. Only a mortal on the verge of death."

Dry and raspy, there was a sense of weariness behind her voice, but the desire to help keep her fellow sisters alive was what kept it -- neutral. While it was by no means the gentle tone Neoveta was infamous for, it wasn't exactly hostile as it had been with Truth and Iriko -- to some extent. This is what she was fighting for, after all, and it would become pointless to grow furious with it.

It is why, with a motion of her hand, did a small hand of darkness compromise itself and pat Blank gently upon the head. With this pat, an influence of Neoveta's will would become bestowed upon The Imp in order to help ease her tensions and fears. In this place, if nothing else, she was protected by the will of The Priestess and would not fall under harm so long as she was here. That is the intent which was meant to be infused into the mind of Blank through this action. Whether it had an effect -- would have to be seen later.






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Thu Dec 24, 2015 11:22 am

















Iriko Crow
The Dragon of the North, Seiryuu
..Where… am I…?

The slug Shinigami looked up at the Demon Princess… bits of his flesh gently falling from his face. He had lost… his way. His path… he did not know where it was that he was going. However, he had been placed before her… and therefore, he would speak. But more than that, he would listen.

The male winced as her sentiments were injected into his mind, the demonic bond that had been forced upon his soul writhing and screeching from the sudden intake in feeling. "...Gah…" He let out a small noise, taking a deep breath as they came into him. But… to him, it was… nothing new. At least, to him, it felt like nothing… new. It was a familiar sensation… and in that moment, something came back to him. Sitting in a corner of a dark hallway, staring at a single flame… a single flame…

He was broken out of the confines of his own mind by the hollow voice that spoke to him, his eyes looking up at Neoveta. While normally he would have been irate at her use of the name of 'Crow', right now he simply did not feel he had the energy to get very worked up over it. He accepted her thoughts, and would think about how to best answer her question, before they were rudely interrupted.

However, at her comment, he had to give a bit of a pained laugh.

"Right, right, death. Feels like I've been sitting on its verge longer than anyone else. Wonder if I get verge miles…" He choked out, the life in the eyes of the Crow not completely gone yet. The small child that ran before him, however, he would stop with a single hand, placing the skeleton-like arm over her forehead and giving her a warm smile.

Though Blank did not know it, this man could be considered her 'grandfather'. Perhaps she would feel through the marks of Khala that surged around his shattered soul that connection that the two bore. After all, he was no normal mortal. His form was ever so slightly demonic, and if Blank was truly sensitive to mannerisms and habits… she would note that the way this man handled himself was very similar to Sunshine.

"No.. I'm no ghost… just a Slug… don't mind me." He told her as he gently sat back in the ground, the black ooze sliding around his body as he relaxed himself a bit. Looking up at Neoveta, his lips began to move once more, his eyes closing.

"… How can any know how another feels? I know that I cannot. However…" The Poet spoke, looking down at his skeleton hand as its fingers curled and uncurled. "I do… think I remember something…" He told Neoveta, before opening his eyes once more to her. "… made a tool of the world, being used… thought of as despicable except for the abilities that I possess… eventually betrayed in the worst way possible. Losing my humanity and becoming an animal… do you remember, Neoveta?" He asked her, looking directly into her eyes as across the peculiar bond they shared the memory flowed.

It was the memory of Iriko's confrontation with Deveta himself, and his arguments about humanity. "By 'more'… I mean that you possess a Heart. Just as your Goddess does." Iriko informed her, his head leaning back as he looked at her with his eyes, both of them. "...I can see them. Everyone you've made a bond with… the demons that look to you for support… those who depend on you. Yes." He said, holding a hand up to his mind as over the link the memories of the battle with Khala, of his soul collapsing, of the terrifying power she exhibited…

"Yes, you are a force to be reckoned with. But that force is finite." He told her firmly, the skeleton fingers of his hand opening and closing as he looked down at Blank. "You can change the world.. But without that 'more', you will be left empty, Neoveta. You'll follow along this path, but if you decide to become a tool, a cog in the machine… then once the machine's job is complete, it will abandon you." He told her, his eyes clouded as he… finally released another memory, showing it to Neoveta.

He had felt her sentiments. He had some inkling of what she was going through. However, the memory that he showed to her.. Was of them travelling to the Castle of Causality. "You acted on your mother's will." His voice spoke, before slowly opening his skeletal hand. "...But more than that, you talked with me. You were more than that. You weren't a tool. You are a person, Neoveta. You are more than the sum of your parts, than the influence of your Gods." He told her with as much conviction as he could muster, his eyes looking up into hers.

"Khala… thought she had destroy everything to take it to a better place, without its choice. What about you? Do you have a choice? You want to do the correct thing. That's fine. But if you give up that…. That power. That power to decide your own fate. Then you have become an animal, and betrayed yourself. Betrayed one of the most important gifts of life…" He told her morosely, before looking back down at the ground.

"...Could we… sit down…? I'm not sure… I have the strength to stay upright, much longer…" He told her, the energy that he was able to summon maintaining his limbs, at the very least. There was a small layer of sweat along his body from the effort he was having to exert. Perhaps.. She would feel the anticipation he felt over the link. After all.. Iriko had never sweated before. His Zanpakutō had always turned it into slime….

But here he was… perspiring… for the first time in his time as a Shinigami...





Core Elements Devised by Aivee




Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.
- Buddha
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