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 A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas]

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CPKallday
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Subject Post 11PostSubject: Re: A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas]   A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas] - Page 2 EmptyWed Jul 03, 2019 12:17 am



TORABEVU KUCHIKI


"Break me, upon his wall."

A faint, whimsical voice called out to Torabevu only able to reach his senses, the reiatsu that bloomed from his body flickered with a golden hue. The familiarity he held to the voice brought a feeling of nostalgia to the forefront, as sparks spewed in the collision to the "wall's" defensive skin. The remnant of golden spiritual pressure acting as a layer of defense to prevent damage to the blade's integrity, in which otherwise the force of the swing against the hard surface would cause it to break or fracture, at the very least. The scent of his once closest friend lingered in the air, calling out to him in this time of terror.

His body pressed toward the blade as if swinging a bat to a bowling ball, the momentum of his planned offensive still moved his body, causing a pause in his movement as he attempted to readjust himself. He cursed himself for falling into the ploy of the enemy, he'd have to reevaluate the situation.

He needed but a moment, but there was none to spare as his opponent moved swiftly in retaliation to his efforts. His head shot back in recoil from the explosive blow to his chin, sending his body upward in a spiraling motion off of the ground. The crashing of his teeth nearly breaking upon one another cringed his nerves, but he wouldn't falter as he did before. As his body rose up, the grip around his odachi would tighten, taking the only opportunity he was given; his resolve blossomed with a burst of spiritual pressure igniting his limp frame.

"Chronos break, Nakigitsune. Sozo no Nakigitsune."

The blade would break as he began to hear the shifting of a pistol, he could see the movements of his opponent as the two were floating at the same altitude. The hasty transformation of his Zanpakuto breaking down into a golden cloud and suppressing into a small golden kunai with a single red tassel on end. Eyes were bouncing around looking closely at the angle of the gun as well as the visionary prospect cast by Atlas himself. With great haste, his hands sprawled about his vicinity, reproducing exact replicas of his weapon with each release of the kunai from his hand. As he'd release the blade he'd grab it once more before moving on to the next with a vigorous velocity. His mind was working methodically in collusion with his Zanpakuto to protect his vitals in his descent to the ground. This action was executed in no less than the second it took for Atlas to draw his weapon and fire off two shots, his movements hard to see with the untrained eye.

As the bullets moved and crashed into the blades, timing prevented the rounds from pushing past them with the use of Nakigitsune's power to slow time to a near lack of existence upon his blades. Instead, they belted out an ear retching screech as the lead spun to a halt, falling to the ground. Torabevu sent his inertia behind him, flipping down to the ground on his feet. Spitting a pool of crimson on the ground as he stared at the trigger finger of his enemy beyond the blades still lingering within the air. The words Atlas muttered held little ground at this point. He'd be unknowing of the power at which Tora held in his hand; his spirits were lifted in the new tide he brought about. Mocking his foe with a replication of his weapon in each hand as he bounced up and down, ready for what was next to come.

"Do or do not."

Shikai:
 


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Subject Post 12PostSubject: Re: A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas]   A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas] - Page 2 EmptyWed Jul 03, 2019 5:15 pm

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The WARHOUND

Artist: Zack Hemsey - Song: Let Them Come - Word Count: N/A


Despite being at what some may regard as a real disadvantage, the warhound of Vastime was performing admirably. Constructing plans and webs which seemed to all flow into one another, but with the advent of the shikai entering into battle all was thrown to the wind. The sadly reality being that even he could not decipher it completely, only that it had stopped his projectiles rendering them useless when they classed against the blade. But in that fraction of a second he would gleam something useful, as he found a use for his artificial eye.

The electric blue eye seemed to turn briefly, before focusing on the individual reaction which happened on the projectile. As a overlay of the bullets velocity was projected into his vision, including the rotations per minute, and etc. But as he watched it slowly decrease, he noticed it wasn't an instant stoppage as if it had struck an invisible wall- but simply a slow cessation before it dropped to the ground. Interesting. Already his 'emperor eye' was thinking of scenarios of what this shikai was capable of, perhaps kinetic cancelling or a motion denial? Who knew. Further evaluation needed.

But let us take a moment to note the observers which had gathered within the courtyard. At first it was a gaggle of civilians and military personnel alike, but now a steady crowd had grown. Even some high ranking officials began to mutter amongst themselves at the display, critiques and compliments being issued as they broke down what was happening to less martially inclined people. But an overall mutter of approval seemed to form in the crowd, from the displays of the warhound and the shinigami alike. They all waited with baited breaths for the next surprise to be issued.

As for Atlas his eyes seemed to flicker at each kunai briefly, before he quickly holstered his weapon. He was sure he could content with the shikai of the man right now, but he would raise the stakes further. His stance widening as he assumed his flame stance, eyes locking with Tora as a very subtle increase in Atlas energy was felt. A hot breath escaped his mouth as smoke seemed to bellow out from it, before his body began to gradually emit a steam. His muscles twitched once, then twice, before a noticeable increase in their mass was seen not to a great degree. However, what was noticeable was the definition and tone increasing in each muscle as he uttered a simple phrase.

"Gate of Carnage, release."

With that phrase uttered, he had unleashed the first gate of his physical potential now able to utilize his body to it's fullest extent. But for the moment he had no overt movements, instead taking a single step with his right foot. A pulsation would be felt echoing through their enclosed chamber, before the floor began to rumble in it's entirety as if an earthquake of some power was felt around them. Atlas would use that moment to open their third phase of combat with a swift blow.

With the world shaking around them, he was ideally believing this would create some level of disturbance or imbalance. In that moment he'd shift his weight forward, as his right hand would begin to follow through. His hips rotating, with his hand following ever so slightly behind it as if intending for a strong hook. But once it turn, Tora would find a punch never came.

Instead it was a feint, as lift left leg would come from behind. The earthquake would subside the moment his left leg raised upwards, as the kinetic force which was enacted on the would would condense into that singular leg aiming to crack the thigh of Tora. It was a rather conventional strike, but once the apex of the swing was done an explosion of kinetic force would ring out- further amplified by the force Atlas had enacted and his gate of carnage release.

Atlas seemed fully committed to the strike, regardless of it missed or landed he'd shift his footing forward to place them within a tight melee range.

Fire Stance:
 

Smashing Breaker:
 

Gate of Carnage:
 

Kinetic Drawing:
 


Kinetic Force:
 


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Subject Post 13PostSubject: Re: A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas]   A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas] - Page 2 EmptyFri Jul 05, 2019 12:46 am



TORABEVU KUCHIKI


A momentary silence chilled the air, letting the subtle chatter of the crowd enter Torabevu's ears just long enough to make him realize he could actually stand toe-to-toe with the General. A quick glance to see the masses had crowded the domain of their battlefield, turning it into a spectical. While he didn't seek this type of attention, he wasn't opposed to it in the least. It was some time since he was last recognized for his feats in battle and, boy, did it feel good. The rust was finally beginning to flake off, his mind slowly reentered the battle-vetted state it once held proudly.

Reassured of his ability, he was quickly drawn back to the battle. A mere human being able to produce such credible feats that were akin to that of a Shinigami and rivaled his strength was remarkable, how the race had evolved in such a short period, outstanding. Unable to prevent his marvel toward the display of power, his face beckoned approval to Atlas with a subtle smirk that could come off as a bit cocky. It wasn't. He was genuinely amazed, and he wished to draw out more of the man.

Analyzing the ability based on the aesthetics of it and the title "Gate of Carnage" he could only conclude that this was ki of some sort. Though it was something he only knew about from reading aged manga, it was something he had some idea about. Whether or not it was true, was unbeknownst to him. It was a fickle matter; nonetheless, the source of the power made no difference as it was the strength of the energy that would lay waste to Torabevu. The playing field seemed to be evened out with the ascension of his foe, but it would be unknown to be valid until it was tested.

The playing field had gained a new attribute with this release of power, the Earth beneath them shaking with a force able to force Torabevu to create a constant shift in his bouncing stance to maintain his ground. As the man pressed forward to him, Tora's vision shook by the shifting of plates below, the timers expired upon the kunai's Osoku Suru he laid out were released. They sprang into a high velocity that was set upon with the second grasp, the swiftness of the grip applying a force equal to a pro-league baseball player's pitch set to a multiplier of three with Nakigitsune's Supīdoappu. Thus, sending the kunai placed above Atlas's path at a speed of just over three-hundred miles per hour. The five kunai belted down on his trail, though his efforts to invade Torabevu's person were unphased by the iron will of Vastime that seemed to push him.

Tora's eyes were drawn to the feign display of punching that Atlas uttered, but the bodily movements that were displayed were readable once he scanned the situation with a sense of urgency. The intense vibration of the battlefield came to a resounding halt that granted him the focus he needed to counter the attack. With a kunai in both hands, he would bring them both in a blocking fashion to the trajectory placed upon his leg, releasing them just as the impact was made. The kinetic force that was unleashed upon the blades was enough to slowly move them close to Tora's leg, the wave of energy making Tora slide upon the terrain as two more appeared in his hands. Torabevu not knowing the man for too long was unsure if he had ever met an unstoppable force akin to that of his own. If there was a match to his will, it would be time itself, and he'd find this claim valid as the two kunai's time reduction expired. The kinetic force was taking full effect onto the blades as they were released from their time prison, bouncing the two kunai into the Vastimian blockade established. An exonerated gasp protruding the crowd as they came to realize their lives remained.

As his slide continued toward the edge of the grassy terrain, his weapons just missing himself from the force of the General, he sprang back into action using the momentum of the slide to produce a higher velocity in his circular motion. His arms, whipping around as his body, ignited with a gold hue, buttering the tense air created by Atlas's unyielding vigor. Releasing the kunai as he applied an accelerated multiplier, doubling the near half of a mach speed he launched the weapon: another following its course, and another after that. Blood slowly puddled and beneath his being as he could feel the stress of his power turning his innards, only adding to the damage brought to his smile from earlier. To end the vicious spree of attacks, he would use the kinetic force that Atlas placed into his kunai that bounced back to his vicinity at a significantly reduced, yet still powerful, rate than they were before they clashed with the wall. He'd let his finger graze the blade as they tried to pass him, setting them to an immediate stop before he adjusted their trajectory for Atlas once more with the near same, just slightly higher, tenacious power that he put into them. A taste of his own medicine, if you will. The arrogant grin that stretched his lips while spilling blood, would let out a soft, fatigued chuckle.

Supīdoappu:
 



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Subject Post 14PostSubject: Re: A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas]   A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas] - Page 2 EmptyFri Jul 05, 2019 2:56 am

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The WARHOUND

Artist: NF - Song: On Another Level - Word Count: N/A


What was the Vastimian way?

It was choosing the path of more resistance, to openly accept the burdens which where required to see your goals and ambitions brought to fruition. So it had been ordained by forces higher than Atlas d'al Decter he would find himself in a precarious situation. The outside observers saw it, as he did, that he had walked right into his enemy trap. Some muttered that the general had made a foolish ploy, that he had gone mad. But among an isolated crowd of soldiers, among those who truly knew the mind of the warhound they simply saw what had made him a modern military legend.

The unwavering courage to step into the lions mouth, throwing caution to the wind in pursuit of something greater. That by giving his blood and flesh he would secure a victory, one which may not be seen initially. But it was what was needed, a blood sacrifice. Thus five blades seeking to embed themselves in his skin would plummet downwards with breakneck speeds, two would completely go wild from two gunshots earlier. But the three which seemed intent on making his face their sheath would find their mark.

In a grizzly show of stalwart resolve he would finish the strike, before a spray of crimson blood would fly into the air. The three blades grinding against stone, cracking such material, before their razor sharp points would slicing- no that wouldn't be accurate. As the world witnessed the blades grind against skin, tearing the flesh in a grotesque way. Such was an example of the durability the man had, that he could see still might've been a miracle. But the kunai would fall limp onto the ground now that his face had stopped them.

A gasp would be heard through the crowd as the warhound seemed to stare with a focused look towards his opponent. His head tilting forward as three thin jagged lines ran across his natural eye. Mere droplets of blood dripping from the unclean cut, which no doubt should be deeper for the average human. But that did not take it's grizzly nature way, nor did it stop the force which was the man.

His emperor eye had gained all the information he needed in that moment, he had sacrificed his skin to gain some insight into his ability. As he processed what the ability ways he could finally decipher this was not merely disturbing the kinetic force objects, but completely slowing or accelerating the objects. As if in some type of animated suspension; meaning that he was dealing with an entirely new caliber of a powers. A man who could turn time into his weapon, a man which seemed to be imploring it decisively well.

The mind of the general would be able to calculate his next course of actions with this. He could maneuver, he could position, and he could create a dilemma.

But for now he needed to act.

A single step to the left was taken, before his entire body would follow as he completely a sideways roll using the kicked up dust as the means to cover him. From the force of their strikes, and his own earth quake earlier, a small dust storm had finally formed. It was enough to at the very least obscure some movements as Decter would flex his fingers feeling the stone begin to rip away from his body. Instead they would begin to gather along his hand as he moved creating a rotating circular shield.

He had a gambit, one which would require for him to perhaps do the impossible. A technique he had never truly performed to it's fullest. One which should be impossible due to his current bodily failure. He lacked an arm, and with one preoccupied with the alternating stone defense his options where limited.

Unless he was willing to place all his belief in the simple idea of the Vastimian way. To accept the most direct, the most difficult path, to see your ambitions realized. A broken general would never be able to serve Vastime, one who operated at less than peak capacity. In this moment, Atlas felt something other than pride- he felt something other than fatalism. He felt the encroaching weight of his mortality, that unless he succeeded in this technique he would never be able to serve his purpose.

Thus it had been decided.

A sequence of events would transpire, as the world would witness something bold. In one hand was a circular shield of stone as Atlas stepped out of the smoke, appearing as if he was about to perform another sprint with the shield acting as his defense. He expected some form of Kunai to strike him, but was pleasantly surprised to see that Tora had expected to hit him where he once was. Instead, there was a clear path in front of him allowing him to begin to move at supernatural speeds his shield raised to meet any Kunai in his path.

But he would not strike Tora, instead he would pivot with such force and speed that he felt a muscle tear beginning to happen in his legs. Such was the price of the gate of carnage, instead he would dart to the right as Tora would catch a glimpse of his eyes. In his simple hazel eye there would be the brief flickers of a flame, before Atlas would completely disappear to the human eye. For Tora, he would see that Atlas was performing a technique not to different from his shunpo instead but instead of simply high speed movement he would see a trailing flame- as Atlas himself became one with fire. Before beelining straight towards Tora, this being of flame incarnate.

However, as he became physical once more he still held the stone shield. Surely he meant to crash into Tora?

But instead what would transpire would be something that would shock the onlookers, as the warhound held a look of the utmost conviction on his face. As from behind the shield a arm would reveal it's self, fingers curled tight into a fist. But this was no ordinary arm, instead it was completely engulfed in flames- no that would be wrong. The arm it's self was made of flame and stone, swirling with power as Atlas gritted his teeth as the appendage would seek to slam against Tora's head and smash him towards the ground.

A single phrase would be uttered.

"Gate of Gravity, release."

In the moments before impact, Atlas would skip straight to his final gate. As all at once he felt his senses heighten, the steam from his skin growing thicker, and his skin gaining an almost leathery look. But what was most keenly felt by the world was the ten times increase to his weight. The ground cratering from the mere force of his steps and weight, as he felt his muscles begin to tear and scream in raw agony at the strain he had inflicted. But as the fist was being brought down the world would witness Atlas seldomn used techniques.

At the apex of the swing, the ethereally augmented arm would release in one cacophonous roar the gathered powers of Atlas. As a swirling vortex of fire, stone, and kinetic force would erupt seeking to floor the shinigami.

Alternating Stone Defense:
 

Blinding Travel:
 

4th Gate:
 


Burning Gravity Smash:
 


Template By:
[THEFROST]


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Subject Post 15PostSubject: Re: A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas]   A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas] - Page 2 EmptyFri Jul 05, 2019 5:38 am



TORABEVU KUCHIKI


A weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, as if the singular arm of Atlas was a needle gun breaking down the dilpidated and rustic body that Torabevu had oxydized upon a millenium worth desk work for the Gotei. He was capable of standing toe-to-toe, blow-for-blow, tit-for-tat with the Warhound of Vastime. In front of an audience at that. While in complete ruin, his body felt fresh, a virgin to the field. This was what it meant to bare the fruits of a warrior, this battle had been a testament to what truly lay beneath the ploy of a visage that Torabevu had carried for so many years. The potential that the Kuchiki family had seen in him ages ago. The ability to bring a foe beyond his limits through surpassing that of his own. A sun was setting for the Elder Kuchiki, and the stars seemed to align as his wishes bled truth through his efforts.

Yet, he was brought back down to reality once more by the very hands that gave him this high. This nostalgia that was riddled of the olden days of pressing his fangs into an enemy. All that remained was a purpose for it all, what would this power serve him now? Where would he take this piece of brass now that it was brought back to its former glory? The future held no place for this very moment, however. As his foe wouldn't be pacified so easily. No, with the uproar of the earth's shaking a haze would scatter the field. His attacks would miss their target as if Atlas was going to stand there in awe. He'd then conspire a new string of abilities to display his otherworldly power to Tora.

It had become somewhat of a pissing contest at this point, but that was what was required for the two to surpass their own limits and break their wills upon one another. Yet, Torabevu seemed to be at his final stretch. His right femur suffering from a severe fracture that nearly shattered the bone in its entirety and the tendons that stretched upon the limb battered and mangled by the kinetic force of his previous attack. His leg slowly began to swell, the white blood cells rushing to repair the damages. Just as fast as the swelling began, a discoloration could be seen through the blown out garb upon his leg. His mouth still continuously bleeding as his deprivation of spiritual pressure tossed his innards, and his teeth suffered in their integrity rendering him unable to speak without immense pain. Yet, he still stood. His weapons ready, blood from his first injury still causing a problem for his eyes to remain fully open. The heat of the battle had kept him up for this whole time, but he knew that with the next attack he would be putting his life in grave danger if he was unable to escape it.

The hurling ball of fire that held Atlas captive in his steadfast travel to Torabevu's immediate location blasted through the debris before transpiring his figure before him once more. Torabevu made an effort to toss another kunai as he did once before, but the power behind it severely lacked and his mouth spewed more blood as he was brought to his knees. The kunai would likely have enough power to reach Atlas, but would likely just bounce off his stone flesh. Hell, it would likely bounce off his bare flesh it held such little power.

Yet, despite all of the injuries he had sustained up until now he didn't falter. As the firey fist brought Torabevu into an extreme sweat he was able to put his weight upon his good leg, lifting him from the situation. Shunpoing out, but not quick enough as the vortex plummeted down and took the entire arena prisoner. His body was tossed to the air before rolling in defeat, but for some reason, he couldn't find himself stopping there. He found himself in a daze, iron in his will to ensure that he had what it took to bring the Vastimian warrior to his knees. He brought himself back up to that one leg as the fire dissipated, embers scattered among them, once grassy and full of life, field. A thud beat into the drums of the bystanders as the weight of one of his kunai was left behind him. The other held onto with the last remaining strands of his life. His limp leg dragged behind him, bouncing with the texture of the terrain, but his mind was void to the pain that screamed at him with immense vigor.

The crowd would grow silent, worry beseeching each and every face that watched the last effort of a broken man trying to claim his victory. His brow curled as he finally approached the wall itself, raising the kunai up to his throat. His leg began to give in to failure, but his arms clenched on for the victory. A craze bestowing upon his eyes as his hand shook, too weak to hold the weight of the weapon any longer. Finally, his body would fall limp, his hand releasing the cloth belonging to Atlas that was crumbled in his hand, holding up his entire being with all of his might.

And so his battle against the Vastimian would come to an end. He would suffer defeat here, but the battle he waged with his past, he would reign victorious.



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Subject Post 16PostSubject: Re: A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas]   A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas] - Page 2 EmptyFri Jul 05, 2019 7:05 pm

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A Blade Set to Whetstone[Atlas] - Page 2 6EdIfMt


The WARHOUND

Artist: NF - Song: On Another Level - Word Count: N/A


These two where engulfed in flames, red hot fire which sought to burn away the rust which had began to form on both of their souls. Tora's own struggles being brought to the surface in this climatic conclusion, meanwhile Atlas himself finding that even in this wrecked body he would still be able to find his purpose. Such was the reward for the price they had both paid, as the flames subsided to reveal the scene to the world. Tora had barely been able to walk before falling down, as Atlas stood the stalwart figure.

The entire sleeve of where his missing arm should be was burned into mere ashes, patches of his clothing ripped and torn as he felt the gates begin to deactive. The muscles in his body tense in protest, microfractures seemed to lace his body. But unlike his enemy he managed to stand on his two feets, claiming victory in the moment. But that was unimportant as he let out a hot breath, smoke exhaling out his mouth. The sound of space tearing as the dome around them disappeared, the general managing to lift up his good arm gesturing to the broken body of Tora.

"Fix him, and see that his needs are met. Keep me informed."

The smooth tenor of his voice did not fault once, as blood seeped from his three slashes above his eye. Though he felt pain, though he felt his energy reserves weak, he could not fall. Instead, he had meetings to go to and businesses to attend to. He would need to make a stop at his house, clean up...

As the warhound began to walk off, his mind running down the list of things he now needed to do a very faint smile laced his lips. This fight had given him the motivation and ideas he needed to cultivate himself further, to see that the ambitions of his nation would be brought to fruition. And more important, he had met a man who the flame of Vastime seemed strong within. Perhaps in the near future Tora would find himself called upon by Atlas. A new ally, forged in the crucible of battle.

Yes, a useful ally indeed.


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