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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.
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MorpheusDavol
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Sun Sep 19, 2021 1:30 pm

Uriel Sancroix | Half Blood


Uriel was perpetually busy as an Administrator, so much needed to be set in motion. In truth much of his work was approving operations, and maintaining accurate records. He had quite the depth of knowledge into the more sensitive matters of the Vandenreich, that a part of him was surprised. The systems in which they operated mirror's closely his original nation's. But more often than not he had quite a bit of personal time, enough for his mind to wander. And wander it did. Often to a clashing of ideologies and passions, in which he was marked not physically but mentally.

He supposed there was something about that Quincy which was worth befriending. Even if he was a Sternritter. A thin smile crossed the bright features of Uriel as he leaned back in his chair, looking out the window of his office. The sun was setting, which meant that todays business was done. His schedule was largely unoccupied in the evening, and with no pressing matters to attend to perhaps it was time for a house call. He hadn't checked in on Alastair since their fight, mostly due to being busy. Mostly.

Last he heard the man was recovering, discharged from the Hospital. A quick search of the database would reveal his address. It was half way through reading his address that Uriel stopped- blinking. This wasn't weird right? Maybe? He just wanted to check in on the guy, and forgot to get his number. That's what.. friends did. Uriel would definitely drop by another soldier's home to check up on them. Yeah. Shaking his head he'd stand up quickly moving to his coat.

In but a few moments he was moving towards the house of Alastair, arriving shortly. Dismissing any reservations he might have, he'd begin to approach the door of his home or apartment. The sound of three knocks would follow, Uriel glancing behind and around him idly. If the door was opened, Uriel would turn his attention to it looking down. A bright smile crossing the man's face.

"Yo! Surprised to see me?"

END POST | THE KNIGHT OF TWO







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Sun Sep 19, 2021 7:17 pm
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ALASTAIR EISFLUCH | OFF DUTY

Alastair lived in an apartment block within one of the complexes in one of the more affluent areas of the City of Lights. Not that there were many places in the city that one might feel were run down, but it was still a nicer part of town. It was not a penthouse suite, but certainly high enough up that - were one to search for and then track down his home, based solely on that and the area it was in - one might assume he came from some money or worked a well-paying profession.

To that end, it was not the kind of place that Uriel would just be able to walk into. A buzzer was pressed, an apartment number was dialled, and soon enough Alastair's voice came over the intercom - that the large Administrator probably had to stoop down to listen and speak to. There was a grainy-ness to the sound quality, but it did not conceal the fact that Alastair's hoarser and raspier than the first time they had met.

"Pleasantly, Administrator Sancroix. Come up and let yourself in, the door should be unlocked."

As he had promised, the door was not locked and Uriel was at liberty to let himself in. Providing he did so, standing at the end of a short corridor - off of which were a few closed doors - was Alastair Eisfluch.

He was certainly worse for wear but, compared to the time that they had last parted ways, his recovery appeared to be progressing at a healthy rate. He wore a long-sleeved sweater and sweatpants that covered up most of his body, though his exposed hands and feet were still wrapped in bandages where only small areas of pinkish skin poked through the gaps. Flaming red hair still flowed freely, miraculously having escaped the worst of the fire and only growing more untamed, but a few bandages looped around his head and his skin was still a tender off-white colour that had not returned to the unblemished porcelain of before the fight - if it ever would. His features barely moved, but Uriel might just be able to pick out the slightest of smiles as dull red eyes met his own.

"If you want a second round then I must beg a reprieve, the doctors may grow to hate me if I have to visit them three times in such a short span."

Icarus Fallen | END POST
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Sun Sep 19, 2021 7:54 pm

Uriel Sancroix | Half Blood


Uriel's smile only dampened a bit when he heard the hoarse voice, surely an effect of their fight. While he wouldn't change anything about the fight, and cherished the memory, a part of him was genuinely upset on it's aftermath on Alastair. Of course to reveal such a thing would overstep the boundaries of propriety set forth by soldiers, surely. So he would have to settle on moving past such a thing as the door opened, to reveal the person whom he had traveled so far to see.

A grin couldn't help but break upon his radiant features, as if despite the setting sun in the background he was his own ray of sunshine.

As the large warrior-soldier walked deeper into the corridor he could gain a better glimpse of the man, of the aftermath of their battle. Of course his eyes would drift to the bandages occasionally, particularly from the discolored skin. In comparison, Uriel's injured hand from the fight was wrapped. Notably, healing at a remarkable rate but that was hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. The wounds sustained on his torso hidden behind his uniform, wrapped in thick bandages. He'd stop in front of Alastair, tilting his head to the side with a sly smile.

"Come now, we burn each other half to death spewing ideology and passionate remarks, you can call me Uriel, Alastair." He'd welcome lifting up his good hand to him, as if to shake. Provided he took it, Uriel would shake it being extremely mindful of his wounds. "And your doctors shall have nothing to fear, I am just here to check up on you. I was.. concerned." His hand would grow some slack in the grip, not releasing his hand yet. Being this close he could gain a proper look of the Quincy, whom looked far different outside of battle.

The wild maw of fiery hair which tumbled almost recklessly, wild and unkempt like a fire. Complimented by bored eyes, which held just enough life in them to showcase the opposite. In voluntarily eliciting a slightly wider smile from the man, before he realized what he was doing to his own slight embarrassment. Looking down, he'd quickly release his hand. "Ah apologies, It must be tender." His eyes quickly tearing themselves from the handsome features of Alastair, focusing past him deeper down the corridor.

"Have you eaten yet? I certainly, haven't."
A small laugh.

END POST | BLINDED BY LIGHT







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Sun Sep 19, 2021 10:06 pm
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ALASTAIR EISFLUCH | OFF DUTY

He chuckled lightly at that first remark, a dry laugh that could easily have been interpreted as sarcasm were it not for the fact that every word he spoke was so arduous. A hand raised slowly to meet his own, Uriel perhaps noting that - though he did not need any assistance to move - his general actions were slower and more deliberate than they should naturally have been. But still, they shook, and then it was Alastair's turn to respond.

"I did not expect things to get as heated as they did, Uriel. But clearly, we are not gentle men." The handshake did not break immediately, perhaps a custom from whatever land Uriel had come from, so Alastair simply let his hand rest there a moment and took note of how rapidly the man had shrugged off his own injuries. He could not help but appreciate such an impressive physique up close, though his eyes did their best not to betray that fact. Only when Uriel spoke next did Alastair's gaze harden once more, a flash of that familiar vigour he had shown before. "Do not apologise. These are the marks of my devotion, hard-won in battle, and I would not cheapen the reward by masking it behind an apology."

As Uriel's eyes travelled over Alastair to look down the corridor proper, he would see that it ended in one more open doorway. Beyond that was what appeared to be the main room of the apartment, a sofa just visible whilst the majority of his view was dominated by a full-length window that covered the entirety of the far wall as best as his position suggested and overlooked the nearby blocks.

"I have not yet eaten, I was probably just going to get something out of the freezer unless you have other ideas?" He spoke out from beneath Uriel's suddenly distant gaze.

Icarus Fallen | END POST
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Mon Sep 20, 2021 2:52 am

Uriel Sancroix | Half Blood


The sudden sharpening of Alastair's gaze, and the hard words which left his mouth might've caused another discomfort. But for Uriel it only seemed to stoke the flames within him. This was a man whom he could call a friend, even if such a friendship was built upon a pyre. The lips of Uriel upped into a tight smile at his remarks, a shine to his eyes, as he basked in the devotion of the male. "You are, something else, Alastair." He'd remark quietly.

However the next time his companion spoke, it brought the gaze of Uriel downward to the male. At his comment the soldier-warrior would begin to step deeper into the apartment if not stopped. His head turning side to side as if admiring it, looking for the kitchen. "That is a wonderful idea, but perhaps we go a step further." He'd pause for a bit, looking over his shoulder with an amused tongue-in-cheek smile. "As we seem to do." His head turning forward gesturing towards his kitchen.

"Let's cook something. Consider it my treat, for your help. My father was quite the cook you know." He'd chuckle turning around crossing his arms, his head tilted to the side. The cocked smile on his lips seemed to imply that this would be an amusing time at the very least. "Also, nice house. I love the view."

END POST | BLINDED BY LIGHT







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Mon Sep 20, 2021 10:46 am
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ALASTAIR EISFLUCH | OFF DUTY

Whether Alastair actually heard Uriel's quiet remark was not immediately apparent, as he did not yet deign it with a response and instead turned away to head back towards the main room. They had been close enough that even a muffled voice might have struggled to pass without notice, but perhaps it was another facet of the other man's injury that only now reared its head.

Uriel outpaced him in a single stride, moving ahead as Alastair made no effort to impair or hinder him, and soon stepped out into a spacious area that served as living room, kitchen, and dining quarters all rolled into one. As he had perhaps accessed from his first glance, the far wall was completely made of glass and cast an impressive view from above over the City of Lights. Other buildings did block elements of what could have been a perfect skyline, but there was still plenty to be seen across the sprawling metropolis below. His furniture was not spartan, but there was certainly a minimalist style at work here that alluded to something about his personality.

"I suppose we could, it would not be the first time. There should be plenty of ingredients in the fridge going spare, see what takes your fancy." There was a grim submittance to Alastair's tone that suggested his acceptance of this sudden turn of events, as he waved in the direction of the kitchen with a lazy hand. A long breakfast bar ran in parallel with most of the kitchen utilities, at which one might prepare whatever meal they wished before turning back to the sink or cooker.

At the compliment toward his house, Alastair offered up a polite smile once more. "Family has its benefits, but I try not to be wasteful. This is enough for me to live comfortable, so I need nothing more."

Icarus Fallen | END POST
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Mon Sep 20, 2021 11:57 am

Uriel Sancroix | Half Blood


"Ah, good, good. You may experience some exquisite French cuisine." He'd tease lightly moving with a large stride towards the kitchen, taking stock of it. He listened but did not look as Alastair spoke of their home, instead he was taking stock of what he might need to cook. Uriel was nothing if not prepared, and trained. He had a particular dish he wished to prepare, and hopefully the man would have some things on demand. But considering Alastair's state, and the general attitude of the man, Uriel was certain there would be abundance of resources.

Soon he'd be dicking through the pantry fishing out various ingredients, mostly vegetables mind you. He'd set to work, his knife would rather impressive between washing ingredients in the sink and his own hands. "Family, huh?" He'd comment letting Alastair he had his attention despite the work. Occasionally his eyes would drift from the kitchen work to give him a smile, as he began to talk. "Tell me about you, I fear I do not know much about my fiery hair'd friend." He'd laugh moving to gather a container that was oven said, his head poking up from said cabinet.

"Ah, you have wine I hope? Would not very French without wine." He'd inquire as he began to walk towards the counter, placing his hands on it. Staring at Alastair, he tilted his head to the side a bit. His blonde hair tumbling to the side slightly, having not had a hair cut in some time. At this point, the sun had set well and fully into the background allowing the City of Lights to properly live up to it's name.

He could not help, but once more, think about their fight.

END POST | BLINDED BY LIGHT







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Mon Sep 20, 2021 1:34 pm
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ALASTAIR EISFLUCH | OFF DUTY

Alastair hobbled after Uriel at the pace of a man five times his age, limbs moving ever so slowly and tenderly as he tried to reach the other side of the breakfast bar so that he might lean against it and watch Uriel work. Were he in better condition, he would have been happy to help. He was hardly god's gift to cooking, but he was able to hold his own and certainly handle the heat. Alas, he instead resigned himself to watching on as the giant man moved around with an almost impossible dexterity. Every knife cut was far more delicate than it had any business being, every movement more graceful than even Alastair's slender frame could match.

Still, as Uriel worked, he did not find there to be a lacking in supplies. It was a rather typical continental European pantry. Most vegetables were available in an abundant quantity, certainly the thing that Alastair was most stockpiled, and other similar items would be found in manageable quantities. Alastair would point something out from time to time, indicating to which cupboard housed what, but it was mostly an organic experience.

"Red, White or Rosé? I suppose you should pick." He responded to the question of wines, indicating to a winerack concealed at the very end of the unit which had a modest selection of different vintages. As matters moved onto those of self, Alastair took a long initial drink and began.

"The Eisfluch family have produced Quincies every generation for as long as my family records cared to maintain. Originally from Germany, my forebearers travelled around Europe for a while before eventually settling down in our home country again and establishing an eventually considerable estate. I was the chosen son for my generation, or rather I volunteered so that my sisters need not worry."

"It is a proud, noble legacy to inherit. One I trained in since I was old enough to first shoot a bow. But my parents wanted me to stay close to home and pass my training down to the next generation, just as they had done for me. I headed out to make my own path after that. Wound up here in time to fight in the war, and now I am dealing with the aftermath. They accepted my choice, supported me in what little ways they could, and I suppose I should now be grateful for all they did for me."

Another long drink followed. Perhaps mixing alcohol and medicine was unwise, but he was doing just fine. Besides, Uriel had not even got to serving food yet.

Icarus Fallen | END POST
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Mon Sep 20, 2021 2:05 pm

Uriel Sancroix | Half Blood


The repeated clicking of the knife upon wood could be heard as Uriel worked. Every movement carrying with it superb speed and grace, honed from a lifetime of battle and study. Some part of him had grown so used to martial conflict, that he had almost forgotten the supreme peace brought by diligent work. The same callous fingers which could end a life with ease, was almost the same gentle fingers carefully preparing a meal betwixt two friends. The duality of his nature, of his life, did not elude him in the cruel irony that all he was would forever be splint in pairs.

Of course, that wasn't to say he didn't give Al his attention. In fact, as he listened to the man reveal private details about his life. It cause his shoulders to relax, his body losing the tension which had been building. It was a different fashion of passion, of care, as opposed to when they first met. It was a remarkable tale, almost befitting to old stories of the past.

"Such a linage is surely worth protecting and cultivating. I have found that the legacy we leave-" His voice stops for a second, the knife hovering mid slice. His mind went elsewhere, to another place. The cloudy look within his face spoke volumes, his lips drawing tightly. A dull pain echo'd in his heart. The knife was brought down once again, as he spoke as if nothing happened. The flash of pain within his face, within his body, was hidden well. Yet, more than likely, the perceptive gaze of Alastair would catch it. "I have found the legacy we leave, is often like a seedling bearing fruits, and shade, we shall never enjoy- but left to those after us." His lips pulled into a small smile, hardly hiding the pain.

As he set down the knife he began to arrange the vegetables and ingredients with the pan for baking. He was making ratatouille, a traditional French dish. As he placed it within the oven he'd move to the wine he had selected, a good vintage red. Pouring himself a drink, he'd also move to see his selection of cheese- provided he had some. He'd pick one which might fit the wine, if it was around. As he came back to the counter, standing across from Al he'd examine the man once more. His hand bringing the drink to his lip, blue irises gazing at the injured male.

He didn't like seeing him hurt.

As he slowly placed the glass down, he'd shifting his gaze to the window. "I come from far less of a pedigree." He'd chuckle dryly, his eyes gaining that stormy look of a man drifting to other places. "My father was a Quincy, my mother a Shinigami. I spent a life trying to reconcile who I was, and threw myself into war. My father died, early in my life. My mother, I suppose she always understood." He'd muse, as he leaned onto the counter resting his forearms on it to place him at Al's eye level roughly. "I spent also a decade of my life fighting. I suppose it was never the fight it's self that matter. It was the conflict. The test. The wager, of whom I am and who I could be." His head dips down, laughing as a smile spraed onto his lips. Holding it for a bit, before it faltered.

His head would turn to Al, staring at the stoic male almost inquisitively. Almost as if he didn't know what to make of the slender male.

"Now I am here. France liberated. Made my bones as a guerilla fighter, doing the dirty things which needs to be done. Because I'm good at it, damned good at it." His voice fading slightly towards the end, unable to say more. Even if a part of him wished to. Desperately. He'd clear his throat, immediately throwing on a grin. The vibrancy of the sun returning to him. "By lord, Alastair, making me all pensive and thoughtful! What a bad influence."

Playfulness laced his voice, as he lifted his wine glass once more. He did not break his glance.

END POST | BLINDED BY LIGHT






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Tue Sep 21, 2021 6:58 am
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ALASTAIR EISFLUCH | OFF DUTY

It was almost endearing to see Uriel speak with such tenderness. They had spoken with passion before, when the adrenaline of battle rushed through their veins, but now it was somewhat humbling to bear witness to. It did suddenly put into perspective perhaps who was the truly hurt one. Alastair's wounds were surface-level, clear to all to see, but this gentle giant carried his own baggage somewhere behind those piercing blue eyes.

"I daresay that there is a sense of pride to be had in building a legacy, but what good will it do you if the world has to burn to protect it?"

There was a deeper cut to his words that spoke of his own feelings on the matter, a harsh truth. A family rejected, though it appeared they had not yet given up on him yet. A bandaged hand began to scratch at his chin, as he rested his head upon it as he leant on the counter.

"You have been fighting your whole life, whereas I have spent most of mine sheltered behind glass walls. Is it wrong to be envious? Not of the loss or the suffering, but of being able to live your own life without worrying about being true to yourself."

He posed the question as he picked up his own glass, noting how he had already made a considerable amount of progress through its contents, and began to swirl the liquid as a question was posed in turn. A wry smile cracked across pained features as another question was asked of him in turn. A comment that he perhaps should not make, but it spilt from his lips with a dry delivery that perfectly expressed his intent.

"What do you want me to say, Uriel? My electric personality is infectious."

Icarus Fallen | END POST
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