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 The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present

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Subject Post 1PostSubject: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sat Feb 04, 2017 5:14 pm


Rodolfo, awake,


and really damn pissed




After watching TV, Yaksha and Rudi crawled into the waterbed. The two had watched the television for no more than a half-hour before the child felt too sickly to continue, the parasite and the response of his blood causing him to feel sick fairly early. The parasite needed to get acclimated- Rudi's blood was particularly volatile and difficult to adapt to.

The two moved eventually from the television to the bed. Regardless of the time of day, the parasite linking the two together beckoned the two to sleep, allowing Yaksha to observe all of Rudi's gentle calm and trusting positions as he slept. The boy fully believed that his friend, and also his leader, would guide him towards a mutually beneficial path.

In their sleep, Rudi and Rodolfo talked over a fire, surrounded by a dark and endless forest, under a starless, moonless sky. Rudi had been here every night since he awoke, and Rodolfo was there every time to meet him. Rodolfo had brought fresh trout from a river, in the slim and sleek form of his vasto lorde form. In this place, Rodolfo looked like a man coated in a monster's skin, all fur and a crown of antlers over an exposed skull like a thorned halo.

And Rudi held no fear as he munched on the trout. In the shifting dream, their exchanged ideas didn't need any words to talk. Rodolfo was a slick, crimson honey into their mutual skull, and Rudi was an arc of blue lightning in response. Memories were shared, observations made. And Rodolfo knew then that something was wrong, and that Yaksha had done something, though he knew not what.

Rodolfo could not be angry at the child, any more than he could rage at the sky. It would do nothing to change the situation. Rudi watched the man shift, like the night on two legs, half-shadow as Rodolfo paced around the edges of where the flickering light reached. Hints of Rodolfo sometimes touched the light. A paw there. A claw here. Black fur. The reflection of the fire against that crown of thorns.

The older vasto lorde touched his claws against Rudi's forehead, gentle, and the child closed his pink-red eyes and went limp, and dissipated into the air like the puppeted creation he was. He collapsed into a sand of memories into the earth, and clouds began to form in the night sky. The clouds began to rain. The fire sputtered, smoked, and then, too, extinguished.

Rodolfo opened his eyes from the dream, and found himself curled against Yaksha's form. Their limbs entwined like the morning after a lovemaking session. He could feel the parasite throbbing in his veins, and yet he ignored it for now. Instead, his right hand, enclapsed in a white, silken glove, balled into a fist.

And Rodolfo socked Yaksha right in his face, hooking upwards from his chin, hopefully with enough force to shatter some teeth, if not bruise the bones of the jaw as the teeth clacked into one another. He sat up, feeling feverish and disoriented as his body risked septic shock with its effort to eliminate the parasite from his body. Perhaps if he was given a day or two, he would be able to fully expel the creature from his body.

But for now, he had a hollow to destroy, like a dog unwanted.

"What the hell is this, Yaksha?" Rodolfo's voice, normally soothing and kind, had escalated into a dangerous growl. "Give me one reason not to slaughter you like the monster you are."

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Subject Post 2PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sat Feb 04, 2017 5:34 pm


Yaksha, The Anthropophagus




Yaksha had been resting, quite content in his certainty that all of this could be smoothed over in the fullness of time; after all, he'd already recruited a remarkable little arrancar, and from there, the sky was the limit! All he needed now was a little time to think, and figure out where things would go from here. He had let the young one curl up to his chest, confident in the knowledge that nothing would go wrong.

Yaksha firmly believed that preparation could only be managed in the presence of foresight. In this particular case, it wasn't hard to imagine what all of this was about; old he may have been, but his memory was far from rotted or pitted. The figure he had spotted only an hour or two ago was one he knew well, and he would've had to be quite stupid to believe he could tame anyone like this with a simple swapping of blood.

He had felt it, deep in the reptilian edges of his brain; a faint rustling, and an overwhelming sense of hostility. Or perhaps it hadn't been his own mind entirely, but the mind of a very tricksy parasite, one that had only recently been spread, and was even now trying to communicate with its siblings. All Yaksha knew was that he felt it, coming along like a freight train.

Rudi had stepped out of the building, ladies and gentlemen.

The fist swung outwards, striking against the head of the body...which swiftly dissolved into a very densely-packed pile of snow. As it did, another white bolt could be seen shooting out from inside of it, towards the corner of the room. Yaksha Dokuja stood there, hands folded gently behind his back, and his eyes burning with a canny, smug sense of certainty. He tilted his head to the side, and let his jaw hang open in a faint leer.

"Rodolfo. You do understand the role of host and guest, yes? You barged in here, and I extended you my earnest invitation all the same. Now you invite violence into my home. Are you entirely certain this is the course you wish to follow? I'm trying my very hardest to give you a chance here."

Coding Altered From: [The Frost]


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Subject Post 3PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sat Feb 04, 2017 8:19 pm


Rodolfo, awake,


and really damn pissed




He knew as soon as his fist struck what should have been flesh that he had missed his target. What met his hand was coldness, a kind of icy resistance that was easy and then more difficult as he moved. Snow. The frozen water practically exploded at the force of his touch, and scattered all across the room, melting in midair and causing a rather pretty rainbow-looking visual into the dim lights in the room.

Rodolfo's glowing red eyes focused on the form of Yaksha standing in the corner, his gaze narrowing with a kind of barely-controlled rage. It didn't take a genius for people to recognize that Rodolfo was a hair's breadth away from murder. Shoot first- ask questions later. And yet he did not.

He swayed back and forth slightly, as if dizzy- indeed, he felt quite weak. Rodolfo was weak with his body fighting the parasite on every systematic level it could. A cytokine storm threatened nearly every part of his body, swelling his lungs, aching his joints, and ultimately a condition that could kill him if it didn't kill the parasite first. A war was being raged in his body and it was the only way he could come up with to fight whatever Yaksha had infected him with.

What did Yaksha infect him with? Rudi should be immune to most anything taken by through the mouth. Poison. Virus. Disease. All of it, he was immune to. And yet, and yet... what else was there? Some kind of venom that overrode? Some kind of ability to control others? No, it was... something else entirely. Living in its own right. Parasitism.

Fitting of Yaksha.

"I find it highly ironic that you want to discuss civility with me, Yaksha. You are no less a hollow than when we first met, regardless of how you try to hide it. You have no home among humanity. We both know this." Rodolfo hissed out, watching Yaksha for any hint of him making the first move to attack. "You assaulted a child. You aren't worth living in the ranks of humans, much less this sick idea of being royalty. I will end you here and now."

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Subject Post 4PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sat Feb 04, 2017 8:44 pm


Yaksha, The Anthropophagus





"A child assaulted me. And I entertained said child, as a good host should. I have always and only ever been the good host, Rodolfo." The hollow's head canted slightly to the side, eyes flashing once more with that canny sense of delight, with that ever so subtle smugness. He simply stood there, watching his rival glare him down, try so very desperately to find a way to tear a hole in his claims. It was...so exhilarating, living on the edge like this. Knowing that he was living on his wits and his cunning alone; why was it everyone else prized muscle so much? It was the mind which truly prevailed.

"I have no home. There is no such thing as a place which could ever hope to fit me. We both know this, Rodolfo. Perhaps my attempts are doomed to fail. I may even concede they are misguided; flawed from the ground up. All the same, I am not one to surrender my freedoms like that. This world is mine to inherit. I have stood vigil over it long enough. I have watched its people destroy one another, ruin everything they've been given. I will be the benevolent lord, and they will be all the better for my presence."

He gently coiled his tail beneath himself, watching Rodolfo with that quiet, whipcord-taut sense of tension. Whatever happened next was going to happen very quickly.

"What is it you think you know about me, Rodolfo? From our scant time together."

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Subject Post 5PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sat Feb 04, 2017 9:40 pm


Rodolfo, awake,


and really damn pissed





"Yours to inherit? You're mad. There is no benevolence to you. You are, after all, a hollow. Incapable of benevolence." Rodolfo's red eyes seemed to roll in their black, black sockets, and he ran his silk hands over his blade. He could release now... but Rudi had released shortly after. He was still feeling the consequences of Rudi's resurreccion, and he couldn't fight at full.

But he should still fight, and possibly win, at his weakened strength. He could beat Yaksha, easily. He was capable of incredible martial prowess and a mind that could possibly rival Yaksha's... at his best- but he still had strength going for him. And if his blood came into the mix, Yaksha would hardly have a chance.

Rodolfo knew, if anything, Yaksha would be ready... and fast. He was in a corner, so he had a few ways to escape. Up, to the side, down... If he really wanted, he could also dodge a straight on attack by- yes, he saw the coiling of the tail... this would mean that wherever Yaksha was going to go, he may not have control of the trajectory.

This gave Rodolfo an idea. A cero began to fill in his hand, and then congeal and thicken in his palm like a water balloon. His technique, el agente irritante, which would allow him to attack the man on two fronts. The first move would be to throw the cero- more like a bala now in its shape and size- over. He lobbed it like a grenade, where it struck the side of the wall to Yaksha's left.

The dark-red glob exploded, not in a way that caused any damage to the room save to knock over some light objects on any desks or tables. What was noticeable, however, was that it resulted in a cloud of stinging gas that surrounded the area. Knowing Yaksha, he would likely want to spring to the opposite side of it, or upwards. Rodolfo leapt forward, his blade shining out in one fluid movement.

Rodolfo went for Yaksha's other side from his bala, attacking him from two fronts. He didn't desire to kill outright, no. He wanted the man to suffer. The first thing he would aim for would be something non-lethal but crippling. And so Rodolfo attempted to slash down with his blade, such that it would strike the man's thigh and hopefully, hopefully, cut a tendon.

Of course, this was also exposing himself to his own irritating agent, but he was well used to pain now. The stinging in his eyes and throat hardly, hardly bothered him. It did cause him to need to blink, however, and it made his breathing a little more labored than it already was from the effects of the cytokine storm in his lungs.

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Subject Post 6PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sat Feb 04, 2017 9:50 pm


Yaksha, The Anthropophagus




And with the launching of the first bomb, the battle begun, in earnest. The hollow exhaled slowly, letting out a soft, almost reluctant sigh. His hands remained folded over his chest as the arrancar approached, hoping to toss his own projectile. No doubt he was prepared for cowardice, for any manner of evasion and trickery. After all, Yaksha was a cockroach; he had spent so many years wasting time, skittering from here to there, and hiding from the light. The inevitable response to conflict was as easily predictable as that of a machine. He would run, and he would seek to dissuade his opponent.

But this was Rodolfo, not Rudi. And Rudi had already made him a promise. To break that promise...to see the young ward awaken with even the faintest hint of fear or pain. To know that he had been responsible, even in self-defense, of causing harm to an innocent. Perhaps once that would have palatable to him. But he had felt it, in that single sweet moment of connection. He had felt Rudi's pure, exuberant trust. He had gotten a taste of true love. And it was far too sweet to dilute with violence.

And cowardice? Rodolfo knew Yaksha well; his technique had been perfectly determined to trap the hollow where he was. To ensure that there would be no real ability to escape. After all, anyone who fought a coward knew that the first step was to cut off their options for retreat. After all, what could a cornered animal hope to do, besides fight for its life? With tooth and claw? How could Yaksha remain the bigger man if he had to stoop to shedding blood to survive?

He couldn't. Pure and simple; Yaksha Dokuja would die the moment that first punch was thrown. The...thing that was left afterwards wouldn't be him. It couldn't. The Yaksha Dokuja of this exact moment was one of love. And love could never be responded to by violence. And so it was that his tail rose, slowly, flicking through the air. It had been easy to track the trajectory of the attack that Rodolfo had launched. He had hardly even been trying to hide it, which only gave Yaksha ever more of an idea that he was hoping to pin down the hollow. And so with a single, negligent flick of his tail, Yaksha did the unexpected.

A purplish-black wound seemed to be rent into the air itself, the bala sliding through it as easily as it would've through water or any other medium, disappearing from the room entirely. Yaksha's own hands rose, finally; both of them together clasped around Rodolfo's wrist, clasping it with as much force as he could muster, holding the blade at bay.

"Do you really think you know me, Rodolfo?"

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Subject Post 7PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sat Feb 04, 2017 11:17 pm


Rodolfo, awake,


and really damn pissed




Rodolfo did not expect Yaksha to believe he was capable of fighting him. Yaksha would probably run- in fact, had anticipated Yaksha falling backwards into a garganta and moved prepared to leap off a wall and chase him into the garganta. He did now, however, expect Yaksha to stand firm and grasp his wrists with a meager, but significant enough strength to keep his sword from biting flesh.

"I think, you have gotten a little arrogant. Maybe the power of having a child look up to you like you are a god makes you think everyone else will succumb so easily." He growls this out, the jaws of his mask opening as he leans forward and attempts to bite down on Yaksha's shoulder with razor-sharp teeth in an attempt to force the man to let go of his blade.

"Maybe you think that pretending you have some courage will shock me enough to not ultimately believe you need to die. But I know you well enough. I know you are hollow. You were born out of destruction, to destroy. You are incapable of anything else." Rodolfo moved to try and pull his sword away. Damn, he was read through quickly enough.

Yaksha was probably already understanding that he had expected cowardice. It would only make sense that, in trying to pose as something more, he would face attacks head on. Likely, Yaksha could be relied upon to only show minute, normal responses of cowardice, the kind to keep him from being out and out maimed... but he would be unlikely to grovel, shirk, or outright flee as he would've before.

An interesting development, but evidently, Rodolfo didn't believe in Yaksha's sudden shift in personality. it made sense, after all. The arrancar had only known Yaksha's cowardice all these years. He had never been exposed to better, not from Yaksha, not from any other hollow. He jerked his arms roughly backwards, such that if Yaksha didn't let go, he would be pulled forwards and within a range where it would be near unavoidable to bite. But if he did let go, Rodolfo would have his sword back.

And then who knows what he might do with it. Probably terribly painful things.

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Subject Post 8PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sun Feb 05, 2017 3:55 pm


Yaksha, The Anthropophagus





Yaksha's expression was still blank, his movements slow and precise; it almost gave off the impression that at any moment he was concerned he might snap off his leash, and accidentally rip out someone's throat, or destroy a nearby building. His eyes positively smoldered with quiet, somber agony, something entirely unrelated to physical discomfort. His hands remained clasped tightly around Rodolfo's, gently trying to pry and coax the blade from them before he could strike. His movements were gentle, careful, but held all the soft, endless persistence of the tide or gravity.

And then Rodolfo did something unexpected. Or perhaps something he thought was unexpected. But cleverness could be no substitute for canniness and pure experience; Yaksha had lived for centuries beyond even what the arrancar facing him had, and he'd seen very nearly every technique. Even if he'd never felt a need to personally engage in the humdrum, hectic world of combat, he had learned the lessons rather effectively; a lifetime of quiet, contemplative observation gave a rather impressive array of experience. Perhaps it couldn't be said Yaksha's actual talent was that high, but his conceptual knowledge was not to be sneezed at.

Rodolfo pulled, no doubt expecting Yaksha to once again react with fear, or concern. But again, Yaksha's body was moving almost automatically, even as the yank began. His legs skittered along the tiles, moving with the tug, and his tail pushed off from the ground beneath him, turning the forward yank into a high-up arcing roll, landing him behind Rodolfo. His hands had remained on the blade throughout, attempting to twist it at a hideous angle, and force the arrancar to drop his blade right into the purplish-black vortex, perhaps the size of a watermelon, formed just beneath his arm.

"This isn't courage, Rodolfo. You'll never defeat me if you keep thinking of me as some baseless coward."

His shoulder, and in fact the vast majority of the flesh around it, had been sacrificed in the ploy to get behind Rodolfo; a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. It was already bubbling over and beginning to reknit itself, the flesh in Rodolfo's mouth having the consistency of wet tissue paper. It was a relatively simple act for a snake like Yaksha to withdraw the muscles and bone from the area surrounding his arm, leaving there little more than flesh to chow down on.

It had left his left arm an absolute bitch to maneuver, though. Even now, it hung somewhat limply, still trying its best to respond to orders from afar, despite the tenuous connection to his nervous system at the moment.

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Subject Post 9PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sun Feb 05, 2017 5:34 pm


Rodolfo, awake,


and really damn pissed




Perhaps Yaksha, as well, did not realize how little he understood of Rodolfo, just as Rodolfo did not understand the fundamental difference between what he knew of Yaksha and the new, reborn one right in front of him. Or in this case, right behind him.

Rodolfo understood immediately as his teeth sank into flesh that lacked the crunch of bone that he had, too, been predicted in this. This infuriated him, but he didn't pay attention to his anger for now. He was busy watching, calculating Yaksha's next move. As Yaksha moved with his pull, moved upwards, he understood- and reacted by clenching his hands against his blade. No matter what he could not afford to be disarmed.

Rodolfo's arms twisted painfully behind him, in an unnatural angle, but he managed to hold onto his blade long enough to have it avoid going into the garganta yawning below. But this put him in a poor position to fight- he had significantly less strength in this pose, and any further pulling on this angle would cause him to lose his grip on his blade and lose it. His hands were already trembling with the effort.

His reactions were slower, when he was sick.

But what struck him most was that Yaksha was not fighting back. The man had ample time to throw even a cero or bala, something to strike him from behind. In fact, he had the opportunity to do it while Rodolfo had leaped forward to strike his thigh. He knew Yaksha knew this, just as well, if he was so easily read. And yet Yaksha had done nothing.

Perhaps the hollow was merely trying to show how non-monstrous he was, forcing Rodolfo into the position of the villan, the aggressor- but he knew the truth, and that's all that mattered. Yaksha had poisoned him- poisoned Rudi with whatever this terrible disease was, and that was unforgivable.

"Simply sliding around and talking does not particularly convince me of your supposed bravery. Face your death and fight back, you serpent. Fight me or die!"

There was only a slight tenseness to his thighs, hips, and abs. Then, in the blink of an eye, he leaped, just enough to shift his body horizonal- and then with a burst of a Sonido, he tumbled himself- and most importantly, his blade- backwards and hopefully into his enemy. This was a risky play, but if he could get the bastard to let go of him, he would be more easily able to maneuver.

It didn't help that the movement caused him to feel queasy and nauseous. He had nothing left to puke, but he felt the need to hurl anyways. Damn this. Damn all of this. A sound of something like a dry heave escaped him as he lashed backwards. This was harder than he had anticipated.

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Subject Post 10PostSubject: Re: The Me Of The Past Hates You Of The Present   Sun Feb 05, 2017 6:39 pm


Yaksha, The Anthropophagus





"No. Life isn't about binaries, Rodolfo."

Yaksha had to admit that Rodolfo's ability to respond to unexpected threats was quite impressive; he had managed to hold onto his weapon, and now Yaksha was in a very unpleasant position, unable to really accurately gauge where the next blow would come from. His hands released Rodolfo's wrist, looping around his head, aiming for a full nelson. He could sense the tensing of muscles, in a distant, subconscious manner. Or perhaps, once more, it was the Juin desperately trying to protect him. Yaksha only knew that he had one option left to him.

He waited for the moment that Rodolfo began to leap backwards, knowing that there could only be one single possible response of such a thing; he was going for a strike to Yaksha, and there was little he could do about it. If the attack resolved, it may well be the end for Yaksha all on its own. But Rodolfo had already let Yaksha get into his head, and that meant at this point he could prepare for very nearly anything. Rodolfo's feet pushed off the ground, performing a rapid sonido, forcing as much backwards momentum as he could.

But it would be very difficult to avoid being airborne for at least a moment. And as Rodolfo pushed off the ground behind him, Yaksha performed a sonido of his own, the horrid crunching sound, as if a giant's radio had been tuned to white noise for a moment too long, filled the area again...as Yaksha went straight down, towards the floor.

With his arms still looped around Rodolfo's throat as he did. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to fully stop the attack, but he could at least manage to pin the blade beneath himself. And, in the luckiest of scenarios, bring Rodolfo to the floor with him, changing the momentum of their fight entirely.

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