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 Hungry Hungry Hollows(Open)

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Yaksha
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Subject Post 1PostSubject: Hungry Hungry Hollows(Open)   Fri Nov 18, 2016 3:00 pm

The roads were packed with cars, and no normal person would've been able to get more than a few feet before finding themselves blocked in. But Yaksha lurked through the streets quietly, with a poise that made it seem like it was perfectly natural for him to pass through every car he met, and an air of what almost could've passed for entitlement; this was a place he had every right to be, and he knew it. Anyone who tried to tell him otherwise would've had as much luck telling a rock to weep. He flicked the occasional hand, sending thin scratches along car doors, and bending side-view mirrors. He could already see people starting to glare at their neighbors, all but certain where these things were coming from...and he laughed. None of them would've wanted to know if they could. On any other day, he may have lingered around, and sought out some lucky-or unlucky, perhaps. Who could tell?-soul with even just a hint of spiritual awareness, and pull his strings. But today he had work to do and places to be.

He had felt the enormous outpouring of reiatsu from nearly the other side of the town; the anguished cries of a soul preparing to turn was unmistakable to Yaksha. He was moving through the cars, almost reflexively toying with every vehicle he passed, but he had a clear goal. He had followed the string of chakra, and even now he could hear ragged breathing, and almost heart-wrenching whimpers. Yaksha remembered that sound; it was the sound of a soul in the last stages of losing its mind. The hunger was coming, preparing to overtake it...and around it there were two, perhaps even three hundred people, all packed in their vehicles and buckled tight. It was as good as a buffet...But for whom? There's always a bigger fish...and you hooked me. Let's see if you can keep me on the line?

He began to hunch forward, his hands slipping out from the ragged cloth he wore. The fingers on them began to waggle back and forth dangerously, while he scraped one of them along the ground; sparks flew up, hitting nearby cars and falling off, and a few of the humans began to ogle at the inexplicable flames forming. Yaksha shook his head back and forth, slinking closer and closer to the almost fully-formed hollow. "Gods...your reaitsu is almost suffocating. This close, I can barely even breathe. What kind of hollow you would've made...I would've loved to see. But this is just too appetizing for me to resist...not to mention the fact that you'd almost certainly attract too much attention. No, no...you have to go."

The man turned to Yaksha; it was a body-builder, his entire body rippling with muscles. He seemed to have been crossed with a gorilla somehow, as thick fur was growing along his entire body; his clothing was lost somewhere within, and the first vestiges of his mask were forming, the thick whitish substance flowing over his face. He managed to whisper as his eyes rolled around in pain. "I...please...make it stop hurting."

"It doesn't stop hurting. Not even when it's done. All I can do for you is this..." Yaksha's head shot forward, and there was a crunching sound as his teeth snapped shut around the mask, crushing it. There was a sigh of relief, and the faint sounds of someone trying their best to eat politely while using just their hands.
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Subject Post 2PostSubject: Re: Hungry Hungry Hollows(Open)   Fri Nov 18, 2016 10:00 pm


THE CHAINSMOKER




ASUMA NAKAHARA



Artist: Wu-Tang Clan - Song: C.R.E.A.M (Instrumental) - Word Count:

It was as easy as booking a cheap hotel room. That is, to go to the Human World from Seireitei. Probably a good five hundred years ago, you'd have to go through a whole shitload of paperwork which became increasingly extra considering how many people wanted to go there on a daily basis. Back then, people had their own private Senkaimon and crap; They probably still do, but it isn't as much of a pain in the ass to use it when you need to. Just say you're leaving, just about, and you're gone within the next day or so.

One Asuma Nakahara crouched against a wall on the top of one building, so as to avoid being seen by those on the ground. Asides from the samurai-style sword hanging from the left of his waist, he was dressed in an attire befitting that of the people in this world. A camo-green jacket covered Asuma's whole torso, and down to the space between his hips and knees. Under it was a simple black hoodie with a rather demented checkmark symbol on the front of it. He also wore a simple pair of jeans, bottoms pushed up by a yellow pair of boots made by some company called Timberland.

Next to his person was a brown paper bag which reeked of herb.

Asuma would put his hand into the bag and pull out a small container filled with a green, grass-like material. He'd have bought more, but marijuana is expensive in this world. He then would take that weed, and begin rolling it into a piece of what appeared to be paper towel that he picked out of his pocket. When it was all said and done, he had made a roughly pin-shaped stick which he would then put in his mouth by one end.

Before he could light the other end up, he felt something: Spirit pressure. It was just about pouring at this point, and it seemed near unmistakable: A soul. There goes my vacation, Asuma thought as he got up, and began jumping rooftops like puddles.

The only reason Asuma was able to do that at the speed he did was because he was rather decent at Hoho, though he almost did end up falling into a few walls. As he ran down the spirit energy trail, he couldn't help but noticing that there was another spiritual presence making itself known; He was totally hoping that it wasn't some hollow trying to eat that soul.

.......And there goes that.

Stopping to see the event unfold before his eyes, he would place a hand on the handle of his sword and lay it there.

Looks like he has to go to work today.

Coding Altered From: [THEFROST]'s
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Subject Post 3PostSubject: Re: Hungry Hungry Hollows(Open)   Tue Nov 22, 2016 2:30 pm

Yaksha rested amidst the cars, basking in the glory of a recent meal; he had gorged quite effectively, and was now feeling rather like a proper snooze in the sands of Hueco Mundo. Or maybe even on a secluded rooftop somewhere. After all, the land of the hollows was a dreary, depressing place, and every time he looked up at it, he could feel himself being crushed by the knowledge of how cold and uncaring that realm was. How...savage.

Yaksha had no interest in being lumped in amongst those mindless beasts. He'd go to whatever lengths it took to keep himself, to stop from succumbing to that insipid hunger. He glanced around himself, opening only a single eye; his hands were folded neatly in his lap as he glanced over each of the humans present. None of them pinged as that exceptional, and a few didn't ping at all. Safe bet, then, that his antics hadn't yet caught the attention of a real power player. He rose slowly, on unsteady legs, and began to stretch his ill-used muscles.

It took him longer than he would've expected to get the life back into his legs. How long had he been there? How long had he basked in that after-meal glow? Time was a strange construct for a hollow, and Yaksha had no basis of comparison available to him. He could only assume from the traffic around him that it hadn't been -too- long. Less than an hour, with any luck.

But in that time, a foul stench had managed to come to Yaksha's nostrils. Wasn't that why he was really stirring once more? He could detect the reek, and it set his hackles arise almost immediately. It was the smell of arrogance, the smell of absolute, suffocating authority. It was the smell of a man-or woman, he supposed, the Enemy was notorious for being an equal opportunity oppressor-that would decapitate him without even asking a single question.

Yaksha could stand the violence. He didn't mind fighting for his life. It was that cold, impersonal way that they went about it that boiled his blood so much. He would sooner rip his own head off, and smash it to a pulp under his foot, than die to a person who could treat murder as 'just business'. Or worse yet, to paint it as a kindness.

He hopped up into the air, landing on a platform of air perhaps a foot above the ground, and disappeared with a crackle of static, one so loud that it made people's fillings vibrate and their cars shake. And then he was gone, as best they could tell.

As for the Enemy? Well, if he could shake them off that easily, they were never a concern.
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Subject Post 4PostSubject: Re: Hungry Hungry Hollows(Open)   Wed Nov 23, 2016 7:18 pm


The Title-less




ASUMA NAKAHARA



Artist: Blue Stahli - Song: Takedown (Instrumental) - Word Count:

A damn Hollow. Should've known. It wasn't like Asuma wasn't expecting to see one or two of them on his trip here, but still. He'd at least like to get a puff or two in before he had to do some work. In all honesty, Hollows, as Asuma saw them were nothing more than a pain in the ass. Sometimes you came across the occasional Arrancar or Gillian that made the job even somewhat interesting, but after that, it was all mindless beasts who nothing but to eat and be killed.

In which case, Asuma shouldn't care about being interested in fighting, considering he just wants his money every month. But it just adds more depth to fight something that can at least hold a conversation, making it more than shitting on something all day and going home afterwards. Speaking of which, that Hollow he just sensed was probably coming off of eating a Plus, because Asuma sensed a spiritual signature snuff out in the immediate area.

He'd have liked to avoid having someone killed before he could kill the damn thing.

In the few seconds that Asuma had to look at him, he saw that it looked like a lizard that could probably stand on two legs. Weird, but Hollows were weird in general. It seemed like only when he blinked that the thing disappeared in a burst of Sonido, the Hollow equivalent of the Shinigami's Hoho. It was a bit surprising to say the least, but it wasn't like Asuma couldn't handle it.

He'd close his eyes, and feel out the spiritual signature coming towards him. It was just weaker than him in terms of pure Reiryoku, but probably not something to be trifled with. He'd likely have to immobilize the damn thing before killing it.

"Bakudo #9 - Geki."

Asuma would make a series of gestures which spelled out the Kanji for "Strike". Upon finishing, hopefully, a red glow would appear around the Hollow, causing it to stop in its tracks.

He'd decide then what to do with it.

Coding Altered From: [THEFROST]'s
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Subject Post 5PostSubject: Re: Hungry Hungry Hollows(Open)   Wed Nov 23, 2016 7:31 pm

"Tch."

Yaksha sucked on his teeth for a few moments, staring at Asuma in silence. The words had struck him, spoken with a dreadfully laconic tone. It was almost depressing, to him. Did this man honestly think he could just hold Yaksha in place like this? How much had he already smoked, to think that it would be that simple to hold him in place?

He froze in place, staring at the shinigami in silence. There was no sense whatsoever that he was going to strike, no sense that he could've done a single thing about the bakudo. He didn't move so much as a muscle, turning nearly statue-esque in his red cocoon of spirit energy. It would've taken an incredible display of self-control to pretend to be bound that thoroughly.

Yaksha had even more self-control than that. He watched in complete silence, eyes drinking in every detail without moving in the slightest in his skull. He noticed the weapon, the outfit, the stance...and filed it all away. Not a single detail was left to chance, not a single scrap of knowledge was dismissed as irrelevant. He had infinite time to gauge his enemy, as far as he was concerned.

And, most importantly of all, he had a golden opportunity to see hos this guy would handle a routine hollow-hunting job. Anyone worth their salt would know that there was no such thing as a routine when it came to murder. If this one couldn't even tell the difference between an elaborate fake and the real thing, then this would be a quick conversation indeed.

Then again, what was Yaksha if not a master of seeming? He couldn't blame the guy too much, honestly. He'd had a good few millenia to hone his skills at pretending. This hollow would've had...what, a century to learn how to sniff out lies? Two, if he was lucky? This poor guy didn't stand a chance, but Yaksha was at least hoping he'd be able to keep things interesting.

For now, he waited. If there was one thing people could tell you about snakes, it was that they could be dreadfully, deadly patient when the need struck them. He could wait for the microsecond he needed. He could wait weeks if need be.
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