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 A Short Escapade to the Human World

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Subject Post 1PostSubject: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Wed Nov 14, 2012 5:54 pm

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact onomatopoeia to describe the happenings around him at the moment. There was simply so much noise around him that it would be nigh impossible to form a coherent phonetic word for it. It was Giriko’s first official mission in to the human world and one he believed he was not remotely prepared for. Apparently, gaining a Shikai meant a lot more than he had fully understood before he had actually obtained it. Once he had, whole new doors opened up for him and it wasn’t long after that he was put in charge of this little expedition. He was given three fresh Shinigami to serve as a miniature search party and was given his first official assignment in the human world to accompany it. He was out here to find a plus that had wandered away from the protective barrier of Karakura town and it was Giriko’s job to go find it. Not the most glorious of missions but it was one that he was intending to see through with a good deal of resolution. The three children he was assigned were loud, obnoxious and completely unfocused however and were making an obnoxious amount of noise. In addition, Giriko opted for a more rustic form of transportation, not being especially comfortable with much of modern technology, so the four of them were trudging along on a rather wet and muddy road in a horse drawn wagon with rain pelting the top awning and the wheels cracking with each pot hole struck. So for an accurate onomatopoeia, it would have to be something equivalent to pitterpattersnaplecracklerabblerabble.

With all the pitterpattersnaplecracklerabblerabbleling going on, it was rather difficult for Giriko to concentrate on his mission or, more importantly, sneak in a quick nap before he had to focus on finding that plus. The young Shinigami shifted uncomfortably in the corner of the horse drawn carriage as his young charges carried on enthusiastically about how awesome they must be to make it to the human world right out of the academy. It was taking a good amount of self-control from young Giriko to not thrust them back in to their places in as violently and verbally abusive a way as possible. Instead, a small grumble escaped him as one of the trainees proudly announced that he was so, so very powerful that he’d make it to captain in under a year. The next one felt the need to one up him by saying that he’d make captain in six months and obliterate a million hollows before then. It was so childish and pathetic that Giriko was having trouble bearing it, despite being hundreds of years younger than either of the two and possessing far more right to childish behavior. It was becoming unbearable.

With a silent quickness, Giriko was on his feet at the back end of the wagon and gently pulling open the flap to the road before him and in this case, behind them. It was only when the air whipped in to their still not exceptionally cozy traveling arrangements that the three noticed that Giriko was on his feet and moving. Arcing his head over his shoulder and looking back at the stunned trio, his body shifting and his tiny tanto Zanpakutō rattling gently at his side, the boy spoke with a curt directness that could very easily be misconstrued for scolding…or possibly properly construed for scolding.

“I’m going to do some scouting further back, I don’t want to risk missing the spirit while we jovially plan our imaginary futures.”

With that, Giriko seemed to “blip” out of existence as he shunpo’d away from the wagon and out in the to the rather unforgiving weather. How humans survived in these conditions were beyond him but Giriko was rather impressed at their fortitude and a little bemused by their stupidity. He wasn’t planning to go too far in search of the plus, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving them alone for too very long as they seemed to be a bit slow and could very well get lost and he was not in any sort of mood to be looking for them in this weather. Especially if they vanished off in to the woods.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So naturally, that is what the group did. After a few mutterings, curses, and something that sounded oddly similar to “Trucking Zoolander,” the three veered off on a small country road further in to the woods, because obviously that would be where the plus was hiding. Nothing else made any sense at all, whatsoever. The earlier levity did not abate however, despite their commander’s irritated departure, and the three happily joked and laughed as their noisy little ride trudged along down a dirt, now mud, path. Unfortunately, the noise from their mode of transportation and their own joy served as a sufficient smokescreen for the predator above them.

The first thing that even indicated a hostile presence was when a bladed…suppose it could be called an arm, punched through the tarp covering the wagon and violently sank in to the loudest one’s neck and shoulder, the massive and wickedly sharp arm almost cleaving him in two. The two remaining shinigami panicked and bolted from the wagon which in turn, made the horses panic even further, dragging the wagon itself crashing and screeching in to the woods and effectively shattering it as the horses vanished in to the woods. The two shinigami drew their zanpakutos and looked up at the massive hollow, their friend’s now very dead body being shoved in to its gaping mouth. The creature stood roughly eight feet tall and had sharp looking and boney protrusions jutting out of its wrists that were themselves almost as big as a normal man’s torso. In its chest was an equally gaping hole, signifying its existence as a hollow as it finished devouring the first shinigami, its ominous yellow eyes turning toward the other two soul reapers. One of them charged, rather haphazardly, toward it. The hollow stared him down for a moment before, with one sweep of his arm, relieving the shinigami’s body of its upper half. In a flash the second Shinigami was dead and it was but another flash later that had the hollow pinning the final one to the ground before, with such hunger, hate, and malice, driving its arm through the Shinigami’s head before gingerly lowering its mouth, ready to eat its second meal of the day.
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Subject Post 2PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Wed Nov 14, 2012 9:21 pm


Template By: [THEFROST]




Sometimes, your mind just wanders. It is the happenstance lacking development in the reality around oneself, compensated in turn by a heightened activity within one's mind, the inner sanctum. The drizzle was constant, with no strikes of lightning or torrents of wind to change the vista here. The monotonous patter led way to ambling thoughts for one special soul, containing subjects such as these: If you considered yourself a rain drop in this very storm, what would the ride be like? The story played out in her mind, finding herself in a fantasy where wind blew past her face as she fell. Or perhaps she was flying, or ascending. The world around her was disguised by a damp gray fog. For a second she was lost; but too soon were these worries, as she was jettisoned out of the rain cloud and presented with a horizon to horizon view of the world below. Feelings of glee and excitement exuded from this rain drop as it experienced skydiving for the first—though not last—time. Details began to become more clear the closer the Earth came to it's prolapse, showing her a somewhat familiar area. Her troubles remembering exactly where were not because it was an old memory, but rather because it was so new that it had not been etched into the female's mind yet. And seeing it from an entirely different view made it difficult to simply recollect. But it did not matter; fast as her thoughts were, her dive came to an end with a light impact.

A particularly powerful droplet of rain splashed upon Fantasia's nose, causing her to blink as some of the excess hit her eyes. Though, it was water, and not a big deal. The golden wheat-haired effeminate teen was strolling down one of the sidewalks of Kougai Block toward her home on Hakushi Block. Decidedly, her hands moved up to pull her hood over her head and grant herself a reprieve from the sodding downpour. Not that the precipitation would bring her down for the count or any such nonsense. The hood was part of a full body cloak of an ashen black, so roomy that the movements of her body could not be read, barring vague rustles of the shady fabric. Beneath that was an underlay of light body armor ingeniously composed of a mixture of durable Kevlar plates wrapped in a flexible synthetic fiber. The body neath even that was slinky at best even with the great strength of its possessor, because it was fat that brought forth the size, and Fantasia lacked much of that. Her face, a reflection of her thin frame, was small and mostly rounded. Petite features excepting her expressive gray eyes. Last to note would be the massive weapon sheathed against her back side, audibly jangling around with each step down the sidewalk. Even when resting inside of its scabbard, the royal blue sapphire that was her Anima Stone was visible in the cross guard, inseparable from Fantasia.

Hakushi Block, the sign said, as she crossed the street to the far more familiar square of housing. Though immediately Fantasia felt something wrong. Her thoughts, she pulled herself from her mental wanderlust and deigned to pay attention to the world around her. Her nose perked up ever slightly, sniffing once and immediately being assaulted by the revolting scent of blood. Her face scrunched up and her expression darkened as she looked ahead in the direction of the source. Immediately her eyes locked on to the towering specter that was lumbering through the light fog toward her. Almost simultaneously the entity centered on her and began stomping her way with increased vigor. It only took a fraction of a second for the female to determine what she was looking at, and with it came a flash of white light that blinded her to all but her grotesque memories of blood and fire and death. Familiar voices screamed at deafening volumes in synchronization with the array of aberrant images, before it was all consumed in darkness by an overpowering feeling of hatred. Reality came back into focus, and Fantasia was now a resolved young woman who was no longer powerless to do what she should have done to the Hollows of her past.

To kill them.

She violently tore her Claymore out of its scabbard and swung it out in front of her in preparation for the bloodletting to be done. Her teeth were grit tight, hands clamped almost painfully around the grip of the sword. The heavy rain, the day's exhaustion from school, and the scent of death in the air were all trivialities in the face of this. The Hollow, showing it was not just some pushover hulk of a creature, would push off at blurring speeds toward its prey, shadowy claws slicing through the air toward the puny girl's throat. It's mouth was already open in the anticipation of the meal... nothing more than a foul dog to Fantasia. It's hand went flying off into the middle of the street as it was detached from the rest of the corrupted soul's body. The creature didn't even have time to comprehend that it had lost its hand before the perpetrator was shoving her massive blade through its chest where a human's heart would be. The hollow did not drop, to Fantasia's surprise, and she withdrew the weapon as she retreated a leap backwards. When it finally came to the Hollow's attention what had happened, it scoffed and convulsed in a vile distortion of a laugh before it unhinged its jaw and opened the dark maw at the girl. Speckles of light phased into view and collected into a small sphere within the mouth. She only realized it with milliseconds left, in which the marble of light became of a blaze of energy annihilating the patch of sidewalk she had been standing on.

The blonde was flipping through the air at dizzying speeds, now alongside a perfect duplicate of herself spawned out of the energy of the hollow. The clone took control of her aerial momentum with her gravity-defying capabilities of flight, in order to near the original Fantasia and grab a hold of her free hand. Her muscles bulged underneath the sleeves of her cloak, as she spun around to build momentum, until she finally threw herself toward the Hollow from above. Synchronously, Fantasia was prepared for this maneuver as she brought the Claymore to the nose of her dive, aiming for the beast's mask as it was just finishing up it's energetic attack. "DIE!" was all that she managed to utter before a resounding crack drowned her out, echoing all across the neighborhood. Fantasia hit the ground roughly at the feet of the Hollow, followed by her sword clattering to the ground nearby. She rolled toward her blade to grab it on the go and shot up to her feet for a counter-attack. It was then that she saw it—the fracture on the forehead of the skull-like mask. Her weapon hadn't seemed to very well push through the thick head of this Hollow, yet it appeared stunned for the time being. Fantasia would take this chance to charge forward, while her clone now came for a peregrine dive from above, scheduled to hit the creature at the same time from different angles.

But it suddenly came to life, thrashing it's arms at both combatants and batting them away like rag dolls. She let out a light cry as her back hit and skidded the streets away from the sidewalk, and her clone was discarded in her neighbor's front yard. The landing had disoriented her vision, and she was afraid of being attacked in her weakness. She swung her sword out blindly as she struggled to get back up and clear her vision. When the world came back into focus, it was clear there was no attack coming. She looked at where the Hollow was; there was a Hollow no more. She was jerking her head left and right, checking her peripherals, even trying to reach out with her Soul Detection—accomplishing nothing but a headache. She was by herself again. She felt the rain on her body again, she felt tired again, and she smelled the scent of blood clear once again. She dismissed her clone, dispersing it into the dark energy that had spawned it, while pushed her body up off the damp ground. Checking once more to affirm the Hollow was not nearby, she discovered the source of the smell so strong even in this rain. Wordlessly, the blonde trekked toward it, dragging her bloodied sword lazily behind her, scraping against the street.

Two bodies strewn in seemingly random areas of the road, each displaying a mortal injury that more than explained their method of dying—most assuredly all at the hands of the Hollow. There was also a broken down carriage here, very unlike the flying cars present in the main city of Karakura. It looked like it was supposed to be drawn by something, but whatever had was long gone. Fantasia didn't know what to do. She had literally trained her life up to this point to destroy the Hollows and stop them from spreading their death. And yet here, despite her power, she had not been able to stop the demon. Not from these children. no. And not from its next targets, because she had let it get away. Her face scrunched up harder and harder as though she were about to cry, but rather what came out was a pained scream into the rainy atmosphere, craning her neck back and letting the heavens hear her agony.




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Subject Post 3PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Thu Nov 15, 2012 11:36 pm

Giriko’s search had been rather impressively fruitless. The futility was made even harder to swallow by the weather conditions as all that Giriko was rewarded for his efforts were wasted time, soggy clothing and most likely acute hypothermia if Shinigami were even capable of such a thing. Giriko finished off his thirty minute foray off on his own as he sat down rather miserably on a tree branch and surveyed his dismal surroundings. During his thirty minutes of searching high and low, mostly high, there was less mud up high, Giriko had not found any trace of a plus and it most certainly wasn’t from lack of trying. He wasn’t even exceptionally poor at tracking spiritual beings in the human world either, it certainly wasn’t his best subject at the academy, his forte’s lying more in combat related arts than any real amazing capacity for spiritual detection, but he should be competent enough to find a plus of all things. A small, almost depressed sputter escaped his lips as the pressure of his breath caused his lips to gyrate and emanate a soft buzz. Whenever he managed to find success, it seemed failure was but a step behind, lying in wait to spring out, yell surprise, stick him in a sack, and then proceed to beat him repeatedly with pool cues. A somewhat morbid and elaborate metaphor, but Giriko could not quite identify anything else that could truly illustrate just how frustrated he was with both himself and his little lot in life. Giriko slowly pushed himself up to his feet, his small frame not putting much weight at all on the tree branch, before hopping off and landing in the puddle forming below him with a rather decisive plop. He had spent far too long away from those three idiots and he was probably going to have to search for them too now, there was no way they didn’t manage to get themselves lost. Now which way did he leave them…the hell!?

He might not have been able to feel where the plus was, but he most definitely felt the surge of reiatsu that was radiating behind him, behind him where he left his three charges. With a trained sense of precision mixed with a rather rabid sense of urgency, Giriko pivoted gracefully on one foot before kicking off and tearing off through the wooded area. The ground splashed as he sprinted along the wet and muddy path, his face contorted in one of pain. He definitely felt the first reiatsu just vanish entirely and it was about the strength of one of those kids he was given to watch over. One of them had just died. Giriko cursed rather angrily at himself, how could he leave them alone out here? What was he thinking? He was in charge of keeping them safe, him, and he was letting them and the Gotei Thirteen down in rather impression fashion. Giriko furiously kicked off the ground, shooting himself high up in to the air as the second reiatsu that he had left there disappeared from his senses.

“No…”

Giriko’s foot caught on the air as he felt the tactile response from the reishi forming beneath his soles. Trying to wade through the muck and grime of the sodden and muddy ground was slowing him down and lack of speed was not something he could afford at the moment as the small boy’s muddy feet ran through the air as if it were the ground below. In a nicer circumstance, this would be Giriko’s preferred mode of transportation. The one thing he did share with his Zanpakutō was that he was a creature of the skies and the wind. He loves being airborne, he loved laughing in gravity’s face; he loved the freedom of nothing but the wind around you. It felt even better when one was so very attuned to that wind that surrounded him to use it as an extension of one’s self. Giriko loved moving like this, but was often forced to move on the ground in the human world so as not to draw attention to himself. Now however, he didn’t care very much about drawing attention to himself. Now it was all about point A to point B.

The third and final reiatsu vanished and Giriko skidded to a stop in midair, a look of shock, disbelief and heartache on his face. Not minutes ago, they were jovially talking and joking about their illustrious yet to be had careers and now…there was nothing. No signature, no sign of life. The only reiatsu left was the thing that killed them. Giriko stood afloat for a few minutes, his eyes staring blankly forward as the cold realization of just what had happened washed over him and was quickly washed over once more by a wave of grief. Not only had he failed his first assignment, but his ineptitude just cost three shinigami their lives. Giriko was so caught up in his own thoughts and mourning that he didn’t notice the second spiritual pressure that emerged and clashed with the one that had ended his fellow shinigami’s lives. His brain barely processed that more reiatsu was being pumped out, but he couldn’t identify what it was, if anything the sudden surge was just whatever their assailant was laughing to himself about his slaughter. At the thought, Giriko’s hand subconsciously shifted, down his side before finally resting on the hilt of his Zanpakutō. The look in his eyes shifted, slowly but the despair and guilt slowly drained from his face and left nothing but rage and fury in its wake. Giriko was going to avenge them, Giriko was going to kill whatever killed them, Giriko was going to take out everything on his way there as well. A flash of metal sliced through the rain as the small sword was ripped from it sheathe, the sparse light giving it a slight shimmer as Giriko’s eyes leveled toward where he felt their reiatsu’s vanish before moving once again. No more was there desperation in his steps, no more was there fear. All that was left was hate and anger.

Giriko closed the remainder of the distance and hovered right above the small clearing where the bodies lay strewn as the small girl let out a cry. In her hands was a rather large, drawn sword and around her lay the bodies of two of his shinigami, each killed by a large, bladed weapon. Perhaps if he were in a more rational state of mind, he would notice the peculiarities. For instance, there were giant, hollow shaped footprints in the mud through the trees and the wagon was completely gone and shattered, not something the girl could feasibly do without a considerable expenditure of reiatsu that he would have felt. There was a lot of deductive evidence that a rational mind would use to deduce that the small, blonde haired girl on the ground, howling in agony, was not their murderer. Giriko was not rational at the moment. All the damning evidence was there as far as he was concerned. His men were killed by a large blade and found, right near their corpses, was a woman wielding a large blade. She would not be forgiven.

Many mistakes were made. Normally, Giriko fought with a far more methodical and analytical approach. He wouldn’t try to fight an unknown like this girl without at least trying to gauge her relative level of power. If he had, he would notice he was running headlong in to a fight he wasn’t especially powerful enough to win convincingly. However, analysis was the farthest thing from his mind as he twirled his blade in his hand, catching it in a reverse grip before slowly pulling it up over his head and laying the blade down along his upper back as he glowered down at the woman, not caring if she noticed his hovering form or not.

“Damnit, I’m not short, Ikarutori!”

Giriko’s small tanto was enveloped in a dim light as the blade shifted and morphed in to something that was a very, very far cry from what it typically looked like. The weapon went from being barely thirty two centimeters long to being roughly two meters long, considerably taller than its wielder. In Giriko’s hand rested a metallic silver, gigantic double bladed axe, the blade itself being wider than Giriko’s whole body. The metallic shaft was framed between the boy’s shoulder blades as the large counter weight rose up over his head as his eyes seemed to only get angrier with the release. The boy would be visible for one moment before, using his own rather considerable speed assisted with the stepping technique that was the Shunpo, Giriko seemed to “flit” out of view for a second before appearing right above the girl, the huge axe raised above his head and poised to strike. The sheer weight of the weapon did not seem to slow Giriko down at all and he swung it around as if it were no heavier than his Tanto from earlier. With what could only be described as unbridled fury, Giriko swung his massive weapon directly down toward the girl’s head, aiming to cleave her clean in two. He didn’t expect it to hit, but hopefully he would successfully force her to dodge. He had made up his mind to destroy this person and he wasn’t in the state of mind to be reasoned with.



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Subject Post 4PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Fri Nov 16, 2012 12:17 pm


Template By: [THEFROST]




A warm droplet streaked down her cheek, molten hot compared the rest of them, for it was not truly a rain drop. It was a tear drop, expelled from the girl's damp eyes. And with the first came many more, as though whatever dam was holding them back finally became released. She was frozen in place, pained to watch over the fallen children, yet incapable of looking away. These casualties couldn't have been any older that Fantasia herself, and probably had hopes and dreams that had been crushed in the matter of seconds. And what of life after death? Would these children be safely escorted to heaven, or whatever nice place awaited them? Or would a sinister force grab a hold of them and tear them away from such a fate? Could it likely be that through this death, these innocents would become that which slayed them? Fantasia shook her head violently, and wiped her tears away with her free arm; a very deliberate action that thrust her eyes into darkness as her black sleeve enveloped her field of view. Be it fear, or denial? She did not want to come out of that darkness and back to the reality of the situation. She wanted to hide away, go to sleep, and dream happy dreams. The force of her failure was just so crushing... But in the darkness she felt a tap on her shoulder. Surprised, she lifted her sleeve to come into contact with a strange void-esque place in place of the rainy suburban neighborhood that had surrounded her moments ago. There was no ground, no sky, no horizon in view; no rain, no wind, no lingering death to behold. It was a place empty of anything aside of the slightest sapphire hue that pervaded it.

She spun around, coming face to face with... with herself, four-fold. Before her were four clones, though each seemed different in a way. Their hair stylings were of course unique among each other, but it was not just that. When she looked at them it was not just copies of herself she saw. She saw her Will, standing strong and wearing only her combat suit—her hair did not simply hang down lazily, but seemed to spike down like hundreds of miniature blades. She saw her Love, holding herself in a hug and giving Fantasia a warm smile that showed this trait so well—her hair was collected into two ponytails that rested against her shoulders. She saw her Respect, gray hues looking back at Fantasia from under the dark hood of her cloak—a multitude very straight and long locks spilled out from her hood. And lastly was Revenge, standing behind the lot with her weapon unsheathed and held ready at her side—her hair was short as a boy's, barely an inch long. They all were there for her, clear as day despite the infinite dusk of this realm. It would be the closest one, Will, who reached out to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We made our promise," came her own familiar voice from Will's mouth. It was quiet, but it did not need volume to communicate the strength needed to overcome her fears. "Are we going to hide from the responsibility we made for each other? Are we?"

"No..."

The hand dropped, and Will stepped back for Love to take her place. This clone looked smaller, and younger. Her eyes would not match Fantasia's, but would rather come to her chest level. The youthful clone would hesitate for a moment before she pushed herself into a consoling hug. Now it was Fantasia's turn to hesitate—so unsure—her body frozen and eyes wide. It took a moment, but eventually her arms would come to encircle Love and simply accept the warmth of the affection, albeit oddly self-serving. When Love backed away her eyes were bright and her smile wide. "Try not to think of the bad times... Yes, they happened and they cannot be changed. But we have to remember the good times, instead. Our parents loved us so much, and we need to always know that in our hearts to overpower the tragedies in life. A happy memory is more powerful than you think." Fantasia's eyes drooped a bit as she tried; tried her best. Her father's quirky and fun-loving attitude always brought a smile to her face. Her mother, she was always there for her when she could be, with nothing but care and compassion. "If we follow our goals," Love would continue, as she began to backtrack to make room for the third doppelganger, "We will be saving others from the same fate, and ultimately, preserving love like what we feel in our heart now."

And then Revenge pushed ahead of Respect, and stabbed her sword in the ground between them. However, there was no clamor whatsoever, and the tip of the sword did not disappear from view either. The Claymore just seemed to float still where she had thrust it down. Regardless, Fantasia had little time to ponder over the physics of this strange place, as Revenge's words were sharp like knives. "Perhaps the bad memories should not be thought of, but they should never be forgotten. They were unforgivable actions, Fantasia, and we know this deep down at the core of our soul. We will not hide and let these monsters get away unscathed. We will find the Hollow again, and those who killed our parents; and we will bring justice to them." Her hands clasped loudly together on the Claymore, creating a heavy bang that echoed through the void until it drifted into silence, a silence filled by Revenge's final words. "This weapon shall be the tool of justice. This weapon shall bring an end to the Hollows. We follow our goal, and we can create a better world accomplishing it." And then the weapon was pulled and swung back into Revenge's scabbard on her back, before she too fell back. Will, Love, Revenge... they disappeared into the darkness, leaving Fantasia with only Respect. Oddly, the world shifted back to reality, rejoining with the rain and bloody mess, and rural neighborhood. "These people need to be buried properly," Respect whispered to Fantasia, in a broken whisper that she was unsure even reached her ears; and yet she understood. As finally Respect returned to the ethereal with the others, Fantasia alone would nod, and begin to inch forward toward the body with the intent of following her own advice.

What had been minutes in the strange place had only been seconds in actuality, so it was now that the pace shifted and Fantasia's intentions would be interrupted by the strange appearance of a man unknown to her. The signals were the sudden gust of wind paired with the aperture of rain falling upon her, and she would look up to come face to face with the figure. But it was not the figure that Fantasia's gray hues lingered on too long, because it was the giant blade hurtling down at her face that truly caught her attention. Her weapon arm twitched and shot up with all her might and haste, with nothing more than the intent to smash the opposing weapon away from her with her own elephantine sword. It was in the moment their swords met that she knew it would not go as well as she had thought it would. For starters, she had underestimated the force behind this initial blow. Secondly, she was using but one arm to combat this. And last but not least was the fact that this terrible surprise of an assailant had gotten the jump on her and had caught her unprepared. Add all that to the exhaustion she was feeling, and things did not turn out spectacularly at all. With a heavy clang of metal she would at least deflect the blow from falling upon her body, because her strength was not to be underestimated either. However, the excess force would blow Fantasia down to the ground on her back, splashing against the somewhat crimson water around her.

"Wha—?" was what sputtered out of the female's mouth as she looked up at the attacker from her less-than-preferable vantage point on the street surface. She did not offer a counter attack. She was not presented with the Hollow she thought might pull off a dirty trick like this, but instead someone who looked human; someone who she bore no ill will toward until this very moment when he had tried to kill her. There was just too much surprise and sluggishness in Fantasia this very moment that she would not be able to offer a counter attack before he was able to follow his initialization up. How unfortunate.




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Subject Post 5PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Tue Nov 20, 2012 10:33 am

The metallic reverberation of the two weapons clashing, one that was in no way, shape, or form still a sword for posterity’s sake, seemed to ring through the air for miles as all manner of avian creatures fled their leafy risen hovels and took to the skies to escape what could only be the fiercest of aggression. Giriko, at the very least, was exhibiting that kind of sheer hate and malice that would cause even the most stalwart of pigeons to flee in mind numbing, feather ruffling terror. Anyone who could see his face at the moment, the woman included, would be able to discern the rage, the distraught, and the all-encompassing disgust that rested upon the small boy’s features. He despised this woman, with every ounce of anger and hate both he and Ikarutori had and considering his Zanpakutō was a perpetually pissed off creature, that was actually quite a fair bit. If it was possible to harness undying loathing as a weapon, Giriko would have been able to reduce miles around them to nothing but dust. It was almost palpable in the air.

Giriko felt the vibrations of his weapon connecting with hers as she spun around to meet his attack and he couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of begrudging respect. Even with such a big weapon, it was impressive that anyone could actually block a strike from Ikarutori, Giriko’s abnormally increased strength and the weight of his Shikai were impressive and to actually be able to halt the blow was a rather large feat. However, it seemed, at least given the surprise nature of his attack and the added force of working with gravity rather than against it, that she couldn’t fully brace herself and was dropped to the ground from the impact. Giriko’s rage filled eyes looked in to hers for but a moment to see the genuine shock on her face at what she was being assailed by and while, in part, this brought some sense of grim satisfaction to the boy, the murderer deserved to be terrified of her impending fate, it did give birth to the smallest kernels of doubt in the very, very far back of the boy’s mind. A cold blooded shinigami killer wouldn’t be so shocked that a shinigami was after her head, that didn’t make any sense. Of course, it was probably just a ploy to distract him from the reality that she was the epitome of evil and he simply wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Hadō Number Five, Sho!”

As the girl was falling, Giriko placed his free, left hand over the back of his axe, his hand resting neatly a few inches above the rear blade as a small, translucent blue thread connected the handle of the weapon to Giriko’s right hand. As the words left the boy’s mouth, a harsh concussive force struck the back of the gigantic, halted weapon and the behemoth axe was put in motion. As if a giant kicked the blade, the top of the axe plummeted down like a pendulum directly for the girl’s now prone midsection with more than enough force to cleanly split her down the middle and was probably impossible to block from her position. Whether the attack connected or not, the blow was more than enough to split and break the earth where she was lying and leave a crater and a large cloud of dust in its wake. He was going to avenge those three even if it meant tearing up everything around him to do it.

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Subject Post 6PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Thu Nov 22, 2012 10:56 pm


Template By: [THEFROST]




Fantasia's question was cut off harshly by a pervasive ring, a wave of sound barely faster than the blade that it originated from. There were many thoughts racing through the girl's mind at that moment; from the malice within his regard of her, to a good reason her defense had been rather ineffective being due to the fact the assailant's weapon was an axe, to just how dire the situation had become for her. The forefront of her mind was preoccupied with the instinctual cognition of survival, neurons working twice as fast to transmit the electrical signals through the brain for the necessary actions. The current shot through the female's body with God speed, tugging at the strings of the soul like a harp to play a fine note. It was a race between the executioner's strike and the visceral reaction, a matter of life and death. It ended in less than a second, and with nothing less than a ground-quaking impact that cast aside all other noise. Fantasia had never felt such intense physical pain before. It was like magma was roiling trough her stomach and quickly draining her of heaven's grace of life. A fountain of blood erupted from the grievous wound inflicted, painting the axe and the area around it with a liquid crimson. Fantasia did not even have time to scream; the wound had been fatal. Just before the attack's aftershock kicked up a cloud of dust to consume the girl's form, the draining of color from her eyes could be seen as she passed into the void.

Comes the quietus once, t'was only a single facet of the situation at hand. The body that had been cleaved right through would become a sheer phantasm, as would the blood as it evaporated into nonbeing. It was simultaneously that mirror images of the blonde came into the world's view, a four-pronged maneuver enacted upon the axe-wielding bushwhacker. Before the cloud of dust even faded, they were upon him with wind to their step; but mere hazes as they moved into place. One rushed into a slide across er knees toward the male with open arms, throwing herself into a crushing hug with his legs. A second was in place behind him, throwing her arm around his neck and pulling his body tight up against hers with the hook of her arm. Her free arm would grip is left shoulder and try pinning it against his side. Another figure was on his right facing the opposite direction with her sights set on his weapon arm. She threw her own right appendage through the gap between his and his body as though she were about to go square-dancing with the guy, when in actuality she encircled and constricted the arm as much as she possibly could before smacking her free left hand down on his shoulder, and locking the arm into place. The last of them all appeared directly in front of the attacker within his guard, and just on the rim of the crater created by the axe. She took one simple action, by lunging her right hand forward toward his face, and with easy-going force, poking his forehead with her index finger and pressing against it. Her other arm was crossed against her chest, resting upon her opposite shoulder yet intriguingly close to the handle of her sheathed Claymore.

It would be noted, that none of these complete duplicates of Fantasia would have drawn their swords, as no lethal offense was intended. The girl chose suppression over lethality, and the difference between the two was directly commensurate to the presence of a Hollow. The humanity present within the assailant was starkly contrasting to the demonic entity that had assaulted her moments ago; it brought hesitation to Fantasia's conscious. But the hesitation would not be enough to easily escape the four-woman grapple she had swiftly coordinated in the short time she had. A phantasmal split displaced the original Fantasia among the four remaining duplicates, while a mere clone had taken the axe's killing blow. The response from Fantasia was set to punish the male's investment into the attack, surrounding and restraining him as he was going through with it. Unlike Fantasia, it was very likely that he would not be able to carry out two combative actions at the same time, which is why this timing had been chosen. So, when the dust settled, chances were Fantasia would be in the superior position, and would finally take a good look at who had attempted to kill her.

The one whose finger lied upon the boy's forehead looked the part of the leader, and would prod harder against his temple, trying to aim his head up toward her to get a look into his eyes. Such vehemence and raw outright hatred within his olive-colored irises—tides of blind anger washing out the rest of them. Fantasia shifted uncomfortably in place, taken aback by the glare, for it had that much force. There was a moment of silence in place, as the girl's gray hues scrutinized him from beneath the hem of her hood. Her left hand brushed back her hood, allowing the rain to fall upon her already glistening wet hair. The moment was deliberate, but it would immediately and suddenly carry through into a barreling strike to the center of his stomach. In the aftermath of the blow, her hands clutched together at scruffs of his army green black-trim robes. "Who are you?!" she shouted into his face, voice stalwart and commanding of an answer. "Who sent you? Why did you try to kill us?" The shift in her attitude came with the jab into his midsection; she was now carrying a ferocity of her own, gathering strength within herself when it was needed.

She only now began to consider this happening, and was at best confused. Two consecutive attacks upon her within the same day, same hour, practically the same minute. However, when Fantasia's mind tried to link the two occurrences, said coincidence would be the only similar factor between the two. A Hollow, even Fantasia knew, thought much more linear than a human being would. Hollows, those wretched beasts, devoured the souls of anything they could get their hands for, and their insatiable hunger for them defined their existence. Most sensible humans, however, carried a reasoning behind their motions. And for the life of Fantasia Nevermore, she could not decipher that reasoning from the mask of hatred in this boy's face. She had never seen this one before, as far as she could remember. She tried to think back to any deplorable actions she possibly could have performed to justify this stranger's anger-driven assault... but none came to mind. So, she repeated the question, urgently:

"Why did you attack us?!"




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Subject Post 7PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Thu Dec 06, 2012 6:30 pm

Amusing. Giriko had his own bag of tricks that were crafty, shifty, and at times downright silly but this blew most of his out of the water. If Giriko’s Zanpakutō, and by extension Giriko himself, was not so attuned to any disturbances in the air around him he probably would have gotten caught by the woman’s ploy. The boy felt the resistance of his axe pushing through her sword and in to her body, the heavy blade snapped sinew and bone as it furiously shot its way down in to the ground. About halfway through however, there was nothing. The body was gone, almost as if it…vanished in to smoke. No, not smoke, he’d feel smoke; it holds actual mass in the air that Giriko can feel. It was like it dissipated in to nothing. Giriko knew for a fact it was there, even if it was some sort of illusion his axe wouldn’t have slowed down like that from hitting nothing but air. On top of that, a few moments before he felt the girl completely disappear, four more disturbances in air appeared around him…all of which were the same dimensions as the girl. Giriko did not know how she did it or even really what she did. It definitely wasn’t a Shinigami or even a hollow ability, the only recorded instances of them involved high speed Shunpo-esque maneuver and Giriko would have felt the movement through the air if that were the case. No, this was something new entirely and Giriko…hated that. The boy had always relied on knowledge and understanding of his opponent’s generic styles beforehand and he was going in completely blind here.

Anger was good though, anger was a resource and while her plan was good, it relied on Giriko having actually put a hefty amount of force in to the attack and not being able to shift his momentum and the fact of the matter was, he didn’t. The axe striking the ground had done so with enough force to generate a small crater and kick up more than enough loose particles to obstruct the small boy from view, there was no way the girl could see him and she would need to try and attack him based on memory alone and that was incredibly dangerous. On top of that, Giriko could feel her(s?) moving them the air toward him and could feel exactly where the grapples were coming from. As he felt the hands and limbs rushing toward him, Giriko was suddenly…not there. Giriko had his own bag of tricks and he was happy to employ them. While perhaps not as versatile as the trick the girl had played on him just moments before, it was a nice little taste of her own medicine. Giriko had swapped places with his axe, the short distance traveled being just enough to move him, instantly, out of the way of the grasping paws assailing him. They would grab nothing but the falling from of his axe, hopefully one of which would cut themselves on the blade. It was wishful thinking but any pain he could cause this creature was enjoyable. His momentum and rage jumping exponentially from so many bodies near him, Giriko’s speed and strength seemed to skyrocket as the boy, incredibly low to the ground, thrust both his fists up on either side of his body, a few inches away from the abdomens of the incoming clones. Once reaching full extension, a powerful concussive force erupted from each fist, driving outward and toward his opponents with enough force to crush whatever organ was foolishly in its way. Whether the blasts struck or not, the wind force generated would disturb the cloud of dust around them and the girl would see his crouched form for a brief moment before his seemed to once more blip out of focus before appearing next to the clone directly in front of him, his right fist throwing a hammer blow at the back of the girl’s head, the blue tether still extending from his left.

Despite the rampant aggression of his movements, Giriko was becoming more and more conflicted. The girl(s) was(were) trying to communicate with him and even if it was to unbalance him, that seemed somewhat pointless for a cold blooded killer to do, especially once Giriko had shown his hand to be one of nothing but hate and vengeance. Why would she still be trying to diffuse the situation when it wasn’t the best play to disarm him and open him up for a killing blow? It made no sense…maybe he’d just beat it out of her(them) later.

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Subject Post 8PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Sat Dec 08, 2012 9:00 pm


Template By: [THEFROST]




1, 2, 3, 4.

The Phantasmal Split was used, warping the reality of herself and splitting her being into five different shards. These shards not only were near-perfect duplicates of Fantasia herself, but united they each stood stronger than the original because of each other's mere presence—it was quite the contrary to what one would believe being split would be like. The physics-defying capabilities of the technique allowed the young woman a get-out-of-jail-free card, by allowing her to assume the position of any of these doppelgangers, which would explain why the initial target had become but a personage of energy. It was fortunate, for milliseconds later and she would have suffered a fatal wound. The clone that took her place gladly died for the cause of the collection, and before her life departed from the realm of Earth, the four remainders would issue a thought of thanks to her. This procession would go unnoticed by the angry young man who had attacked her, as he was dead set on sending Fantasia to the Soul Society without a body to her name, thus why the fight continued from this point on. She was not successful in incapacitating him from the get-go, seeming to have transformed into a complete copy of the metal axe he wielded.

No, that was not quite right. As the first three bodies delved into the uprising of debris caused by all this fast-paced movement, they would catch themselves from touching any sharp edges of the medieval weapon, albeit slightly confused at the situation. But as the fourth body—by who the man would suddenly appear next to in his high-speed maneuver—spotted him out, the information of the replacement would be relayed to the other three to bring everyone up to speed. It was just enough time for the ladies to steel themselves for a counterattack, for in their dive they were most certainly open to one. It came—a contactless attack that for some initially unexplained reason would send those three skyrocketing out of the dust plume. Their soul power took the brunt of the damage automatically, but it was not fullproof in any case. Crying out in unison, they landed onto a nearby lawn, causing small craters in the once green grassy field. Dirt sprayed every which way and grass blades scattered through the air. In the meanwhile, the last Fantasia standing focused on rebutting the man's rebuttal, making a quick lunge in his direction to throw a open-handed chop to the side of his neck to hopefully bring him down. Her strike sliced through empty air...

Any guesses?

The internal joke from one of Fantasia's hundreds of pieces was unnecessary, but did happen to make a point. Little to no thought was necessary, and even less movement would be essential. She bent her upper body forward and simultaneously thrust her body upward as hard as she could in as small an interval of time as possible. The fact that she was already lunging forward with her chop attack made this action fluid as water. And likely enough, she felt the dull bang of something impacting the hard metal of her Claymore's hilt. The force of the attack was strong enough to counteract her upward movement and send her back to the ground as soon as she left it. The significance of the move did not change however, as she had succeeded in blocking the attack. She immediately transitioned into a riposte, launching her right hand up into the air in the last place she felt his arm. If luck would have it, she would be able to catch the limb before it moved away, and would tightly grasp onto it with iron strength. Once secured, she would throw her strength into an effort of throwing him over her head and onto the ground in front of her to deepen the crater he had created earlier. But on the off-chance, she would have to disengage by throwing herself into a forward roll followed by a pirouette to face the attacker again. Off to the side, the other three duplicates would be picking themselves off the ground, and prepared to jump in at a moment's need. For now, they stood by waiting and watching for an opportunity. They had the speed to be there and ready, even at such a distance.




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Subject Post 9PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Mon Dec 10, 2012 1:09 pm

This was…very bad yet very interesting all at the same time. He had successfully used the motion of her strike as a shadow to hide his own, but the girl, well one of them at least; positioned herself to block his strike with the hilt of her weapon. Whether this was a stroke of luck or a stroke of genius he wasn’t sure, but as soon as he felt his hand connect with that cold metal he knew he was in trouble. Simply from observing her movements thus far, particularly through his sensory capabilities, he could tell that he was outmatched at the moment in terms of pure speed and strength and the only advantage he had was to constantly keep pressure on her and not give her an opportunity for a clean auto-attack and unfortunately, that’s what she now had. A small grimace of displeasure came to his face, in no small part from the now dull pain on the side of his hand, as he quickly reacted to her reaction.

As the girl caught her balance and forward momentum and used it to turn around on him and try to grab his arm and unfortunately, Giriko wasn’t in a position to really stop it. He was still dealing with the recoil from hitting the metal object and regardless of how well trained you are, smacking something that hard at that velocity is going to leave you reeling for a moment. The girl, however, was highly underestimating how flexibly Giriko could strike and as she lifted him up in to the air and made to throw him straight down. At the apex of her throwing arc Giriko, the front of his body facing the top of her head, quickly drew his knee up to his chest, the point facing straight toward the girl’s nose.

“Sho, number 11!”

The resulting concussive force that rocketed out of his knee from that distance would be enough to knock anyone out and give them a three week concussion and magic people weren’t an exception to that. If she was particularly deadest on fighting the invisible strike, she might even snap her neck. That did nothing to stop Giriko’s now rather painful downward momentum though. Reacting on what had now become ingrained as instinct, Giriko, emanated a pulse of his Sho from his back, the resulting shockwave would smack in to the ground and form a very slight cushion for the boy’s fall. Not enough to prevent any pain or damage, but enough to keep his rather small frame from suffering any significant damage. It also had the added effect of kicking up even more dust from the now deepened crater and generating an identical cloud to the one before, fully obstructing the boy from view. Giriko wrenched his hand free from whatever was still holding his arm, if anything, and dragged himself to his feet. He could still sense the group around him, all of which were within a couple meters of his position in the little cloud, as he silently and increasingly angrily, tried to work out the situation. If each one of the splits were that much physically stronger than he was, he wasn’t sure how he was going to kill them all. If she was limited to four, then he had a shot, but that was a dangerous assumption to make. He’d need a better plan.




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Subject Post 10PostSubject: Re: A Short Escapade to the Human World   Wed Dec 19, 2012 12:31 pm


Template By: [THEFROST]




Fresh, smooth skin. Fantasia's hand had acquired a vice grip on the combatant's wrist, but even though she was indeed trying to take the young man down, it did not make her senses numb to the reality of things—there was nothing to differentiate what Fantasia was feeling from an ordinary human being's skin. So why was it that they were locked in combat? It boggled the mind, with the blond still making attempts to understand even amidst the battle. And he seemed particularly allergic to a situation of surrender, making an easy solution difficult to accomplish. These thoughts rushed through Fantasia's mind while she tried to drag the male through the air and into the ground with terrible force. But somewhere around the crest of the trajectory came the counteraction; a loud, stern voice followed by a headache. Fantasia felt like a car had had hit in the head and crumpled her body into the already sizable crater to kick up what was now becoming a storm of dust and debris. The world went dark for a second as flashes of red flitted through her clouded vision, and by the time she had woken up she was on the ground taking the form you'd think a beaten corpse would prefer. Instead of staying down on the ground as the assailant might have desired, Fantasia would instead groan as she pulled herself to her feet just as he was doing the same himself. Shards of rock and dirt were shaken off of her body by the movement, though it could hardly be seen through all this visual interference. The shockwave hadn't produced the effects intended.

Fantasia's saving grace hadn't been any modicum of skill or finesse, but simply a declaration of how much spiritual power she boasted. She was far more durable than a typical human, and could take a couple hits of such caliber before going down like the rest. This was the crux—that was simply one entity of many within Fantasia's arsenal, and as time would pass the number would see more and more chances to grow. In fact, as Fantasia's body climbed out of the hole created by the Kidō attack, a congruent figure would 'step' out of her body and join by her side—one of Fantasia's abilities to absorb some of the energy from an attack and utilize it to produce the cost-efficient duplicates her power revolved around. Additionally, if this young man was an observant one, he'd notice that each of his movements are a little more consuming than usual and his abilities tire him out a little bit faster. As long as Fantasia's clones persist, they also will be passively drawing upon the spiritual energy contained within him. The point the higher entities beyond were trying to get to was the fact that the power gap was just too wide for him to make the leap across. Fantasia, wanting to end this nonsense without any more deaths, would stop playing games and place her hand on her sword, while the three clones who had been previously knocked away would arrive alongside her with such legerity that the clouds of dust would abate.

The team, five strong, would suddenly unleash a pressure that pervaded the entire neighborhood, vibrating the atmosphere and physically gusting through the trees and the grass of nearby yards. "STOP!" the entire group called in perfect unison, creating a choir that seemed to bolster the power of the spiritual torrent for a fraction of a second. If this boy would not submit and then answer her questions peacefully, she would shout the inquiries at him instead. With a voice that would cause his rib cage to shake, they called, with utter synchronization to the syllable: "Who are you? Why are you attacking us? Answer us! Are you allied with the Hollows?!" At this point the cloud of dust was nothing but faint patches of particles, as the force from their combined angry voice seemed to cause most of it to dissipate. At the back of her mind, Fantasia wished that this fight did not have to continue any longer... it would not turn out well for the boy.




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