Bleach Platinum Hearts RP
Welcome to Bleach Platinum Hearts RP! This is a Bleach Role Playing Forum set in the year 2416, over 400 years away from the Original Bleach's timeline. It has elements of both canon and custom for a unique mixture of role playing never seen before on Bleach. To get started, please sign up and read our starter guide:

https://www.platinumhearts.net/t13634-bleach-platinum-hearts-starter-s-guide

And again, welcome to our Bleach RP.
Bleach Platinum Hearts RP
Welcome to Bleach Platinum Hearts RP! This is a Bleach Role Playing Forum set in the year 2416, over 400 years away from the Original Bleach's timeline. It has elements of both canon and custom for a unique mixture of role playing never seen before on Bleach. To get started, please sign up and read our starter guide:

https://www.platinumhearts.net/t13634-bleach-platinum-hearts-starter-s-guide

And again, welcome to our Bleach RP.

Bleach Platinum Hearts RP

This is a Bleach Role Playing Forum set in the year 2421, over 400 years after the original Bleach Storyline. Join our Bleach RP today
 
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 The Pit [Solo]

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MorpheusDavol
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Subject Post 1PostSubject: The Pit [Solo]   The Pit [Solo] EmptyThu Mar 18, 2021 7:56 am

[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]

The Pit [Solo] 6EdIfMt


Death Walks Among You

Artist: N/A - Song: N/A


The sun rose another day, the ending had not come.

But not for all.

Deep within the Earth, far deeper than anything held a right to, a small room enforced by the deepest magic and science the multiverse could muster. Perhaps within the same tier of prisons the deepest layers of Hell could provide. A single entity, or rather two merged into one, was imprisoned hopefully to never feel the warm glow of the sun on their skin. A being which sought to do nothing but bring the destruction of the world as they knew it, and a man who sought to hold that back.

It was perhaps ironic that a soul so dedicated to the pursuit of good, had been condemned to a personal hell.

The concept of time had faded long away in this darkest dungeon, leaving only the two in their never ending contest of strength. Though Desmond Hayden, The Iron King, had lost his body he retained his defiance. Every second, of every day, he prevented the monster from drawing upon his full strength. In freeing Hayden of his body, he had raised his spirit to the highest echelons of martyrdom. So he fought, a war of constant attrition enough to prevent whatever plan he had from coming to fruition.

That does not mean Death did not tempt Hayden, mock him, do everything in his power to utilize his life against him.

“You fight so hard for a world which has abandoned you, which threw you away the moment it had the chance. You died pointlessly, as a human. Another faceless soldier among many, wiped out in the blink of an eye.”

A vibration ripped through the cage, shaking the foundations. Hayden’s mind tightening around itself within the shared consciousness of his body. It was another day of abuses, his mistakes and insecurities laid bare.

“You built a nation of sandcastles, crumbling away with every moment you are gone. How does it feel to know, to feel, the slow death of all that you built?”

He knew this wasn’t true. Even if he could not feel the warmth of his people, he left the nation in good hands. In the hands of his beloved, of the people he instilled values into. He knew this day was to come. A day in which he would not sit on the throne.

Perhaps it felt his thoughts, or merely knew that him so that it could guess. A sharp bark of inhuman laughter echoed in his head.

“You truly believe that unfeeling woman, who never loved you, can run that pitiful kingdom you built? That she will uphold the vision you had? Had you not had the potential to be my vassal, had I not granted you power, you wouldn’t be anything. The life you built, the women you love, is built on delusions of grandeur. Your life, Desmond, is nothing but failures.”

A low rumble, a sinister mocking laugh. A voice which did nothing but taunt him.

Perhaps the reason it hurt him, was that there was undeniable truth to the monster’s words. That no matter what he believed, what he wished for, he left a world which was incomplete. A wife whom he wished to love him, so desperately so, that could not. A nation which still was in it’s founding. A family, which now lacked a father.

For all his achievements, Desmond had failed his grandest goals. Now he was alone, in a personal hell, with a monster which had eternity to torture him.

But that did not mean he would fall victim to such ministrations. Perhaps he had failed all he loved, and perhaps, he held onto false hopes, but was that what made Desmond himself?

The words of his beloved echo’d through his head once more: ‘You see that which you hold to be impossible, and still you pursue it.’ A pause.

He thought of her, for a moment. To think of her pale features, her mute yet powerful aura. The look of silent determination and willfulness in her eyes. Yes it was good to remember that. He recalled her face. Good.

‘To seek the impossible… That is something I want to do.’

He shall endeavor upon the impossible once more. His mind would not shatter, his soul would remain. He needed but to last one more second, and when that second passed, but another more.

The strength of will of Desmond could be felt by the creatures. A sickly feeling of anger emitted. It was not pleased.




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Subject Post 2PostSubject: Re: The Pit [Solo]   The Pit [Solo] EmptyThu Apr 22, 2021 5:21 am

[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]

The Pit [Solo] 6EdIfMt


Death Walks Among You

Artist: N/A - Song: N/A


It has been sixty-nine days since his imprisonment.

It has felt like thousand lifetimes.

In the annals of history, the suffering of deities as punishment always seemed far too grand for mortal man to bear. Prometheus punished to forever have his innards eaten by a crow. Atlas forced to hold the sky for all eternity. Things which no mere man should have the tenacity to bear. And yet they must. There is no other choice, no other fate which awaits them but acceptance of their misery.

It is fitting, that Desmond, would find himself trapped in such a tale.

If someone believed the anger of Death would be placated by time, they where mistaken. Instead it seemed the defiance of the soldier-king spited the deity far more than his patience. In the darkness which was the soul prison of Desmond, the endless torments Death could subject him to where without peer. How seconds could stretch to years, as he felt the sensation of his skin being peeled from his skull. Of course, this didn't actually happen, but it was well within the powers of the entity to simulate such pain. And he did. Everyday, every second, subjected to some new form of physical torment.

It was all in the attempt to break the last vestiges of the legendary tenacity of the man. It all proved futile. Every torment, every unspeakable horror, he was subjected to did not soften the mountain of fortitude he held. No man, no woman, no creature, could ever fault Desmond should he have given into defeat. He had done his duty countless times, his honor was satisficed. If he embraced nothingness, there would be no faulting him.

But if he did so, if he caved to such insolence, then he knew the world he left behind would be shattered. His children would subjected to a cruel world he allowed to transpired. The women he loved would be forced to undertake the abomination which is now his legacy. No. He simply could not allow that to pass.

To have his body slowly torn apart, to feel the sensation of his powerful muscle stripped from his bone, was a small price to play. As every fiber of his body was subjected to the most extreme forms of punishment, when at times he felt he was going mad from pain, he would simply resolve himself to suffer for but a second longer. And once that second passed, and it would, he would suffer one more second. Those seconds, those precious few moments, are the only future he could look forward towards. It did not matter the punishment. It did not matter the torture. He would suffer it.

It was once more his rebellion against fate it's self. It was once more him achieving the impossible. If Death wished to break the man, no amount of physical pain would do so. It would eventually turn it's eyes upon his mind.

Desmond Hayden had spent his life fighting an uphill battle. What is but one more? As the next second passed in his personal prison, as the next second of prolonged torture passed, he let out a roar- which turned to laughter.

If Death could feel anything akin to mortal emotion, it was poisonous anger.



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Subject Post 3PostSubject: Re: The Pit [Solo]   The Pit [Solo] EmptySun Jul 11, 2021 10:14 am


Desmond | Unloved, Unremembered, and Honorless


It was some time ago, that the pain and voices stopped.

One day his world was filled with ceaseless activity, thousand upon thousand of scenarios of him very being picked apart. Not a single moment of reprieve in the chaos. Death had wanted to break Desmond Hayden, physically and mentally until he could put up no resistance. Perhaps, it was amusing then, that his tormentor had decided that the best way to go about his goals was to leave the former king to his thoughts. An ingenious idea really, that the most emotional and conflicted hero was perhaps his best demon. For as he sat in the void, it was perhaps days or weeks until the first cracks formed.

Desmond Hayden, lived life with few regrets. Perhaps he wished he saved more people, did more to help those that needed it. Spent less time fighting, and more time loving those around him. But when he died, at least to the world, he did so with many regrets. He left his children fatherless, his kindgom without clear instructions. His wives in a state of confusion. Perhaps had he married one, or perhaps neither at all, it would have been better. For so many questions left unanswered, his legacy would be one of mixed reaction.

He was worried, and tired. The quietness of his imprisonment was maddening, and ever so much that madness seeped into him. As if perhaps wondering if he was to free himself, that maybe he could right of the wrongs. Maybe even, do a little more than what he did. More than once if he was to cry, he would've. He never confessed his deepest fears to those he loved, he never talked about what truly frightened. It was loneliness. In his prison even he had a companion, even if that companion was a monster whom wanted the destruction of the world as he knew it. The torture focused him, it embolded his mind. It was an enemy to fight against.

Naturally, a soldier without a war to fight for was useless. A martyr without a cause to die for. Desmond greatest fear was realized, and he was slowly losing cause of it.

He was losing.

Holding on by a string, a small glimmer of hope, Desmond was afraid. A thousand lifetimes had passed for him, but now, it was empty. Left to his thoughts, the hero was falling.

He wondered if they would forgive him.

END POST | UNMOURNED






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Subject Post 4PostSubject: Re: The Pit [Solo]   The Pit [Solo] EmptySat Sep 04, 2021 3:10 am


??? | Rebirthed Through Decay


"I am but an unholy copy of life; a mockery of its freedom. And born in the cruel betrayal of the noble ideals I would’ve served."- Aatrox

The weight which laid upon Desmond Hayden in life, and in death, was a burden no man was meant to bare. But he had shouldered it when all other shirked from it. It mattered not the people, or the cause, in which he fought for to himself. Only that someone had to fight. In a thousand unsung battles before his name was among the greatest heroes of his generation he had proven himself, how many lives had he saved? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions? Far too many to count, and far too many for him to remember.

He was no longer a king, he was no longer something akin to a god, he was now worse. So much worse.

In the dark abyss which was his prison, trapped in his solitude with only Death to act as a companion. it had become a womb. If Death could not gain control over Desmond, then he would do something far worse. A thousand little manipulations like that of small breezes, none by themselves capable of creating a storm to sunder mountains. But together, on the thousandth, perhaps just enough. Just enough to topple all of creation. The mental defenses of the former king worn down, old emotions coming to the forefront. The anger, the rage, in which he had made his legacy upon.

All he had ever known was how to be a hero, but what he was now, the twisted and warped reflection of his goals was too much. Blackened eyes would gaze down at his hands, looking over the darkened almost metallic flesh. When he gained control over his body again he didn't know, nor did he know when the whispers quieted themselves. His irises slowly scanned over his hands following his limbs to his chest and down his body. It felt so keenly his own, yet, wrong in so many ways. Those foreign hands would come to his face, grasping it in the darkness.

He could feel the overgrown fangs which jutted from his mouth, the sharp bone like structures. Enough to make him recoil in the shock of it all.

"No, no, no.."

The words came out of his mouth in a low vibration, a low baritone which seemed to grow steadily from sadness to anger with each word. Irrational thoughts which flowed from rage seemed to fuel the sentiment. His mind went elsewhere, uncoherent and disjointed thoughts which manifested. The idea that all he had done was meaningless, that his kids would be raised by someone else. That all he had achieve had been for naught.

The nation he had created would be bastardized into something else. The people whom he had given so much for would turn their back on their creator. A burning pit of regret formed within the bottom of his stomach. His head shaking as he fell forward to catch himself on the smooth ground of the prison. His fingers splaying out in the total darkness, so silent that he could hear his breathing. His fingers curling against the floor, clawing against whatever the materials was before finally snarling smashing his head against the floor.

For the outside world, for the first time in a long time, activity worth noting would reach Vastimian control centers. Activity within the Cage.

Desmond drew in a ragged breath as emotions coalesced into pain, betrayal, and rage.

Cyrus. A broken promise.
Abalia. An unloved marriage.
Liu. How he failed her.
Ulv. Unfinished Business.
Henrex. Wasted Potential.
Mana. An Unfilled Rivarly.

The World. How they would forget him, and all he done. A legacy in ash.

A shout tumbled from his lips, the pained sound far more sad than any mournful cry. The room shaking around him as that shout slowly turned from pain to violence. Clawed hands smashing against the floor, vibrations and rumblings echoing towards the outside world. Nothing to disturb the populace of the world. But enough, enough for those who monitor the room to know: Something had changed.


END POST | Goodbye, Halcyon Days






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Subject Post 5PostSubject: Re: The Pit [Solo]   The Pit [Solo] EmptyTue Sep 21, 2021 12:42 pm


??? | Silence


It felt cold.

So very cold.

And quiet.

The rage followed, shortly after.

END POST | Welcomed, Oblivion






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