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Yo, Welcome to The Platinum Hearts Scroller. Here you can find an assortment of Site News. Happy Roleplaying! --- Member of the Year: Locke --- Character of the Year: Alastair Eisfluch --- New Characters of the Year: Mizu Morikawa and Igendai Gyakusuma --- Social Thread of the Year: A Letter for Hymn --- Combat Thread of the Year: Raise Your Spirits --- Members of the Season: Locke and Paradigm --- Character of the Season and Application of the Season: Mizu Morikawa --- Fight Thread of the Season: To Drown a Strawberry --- Social Thread of the Season: Wellness Check ---
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Joined : 2018-07-25
Posts : 203
Location : MURICA

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Sun Jan 30, 2022 11:40 pm


Meeting in the Snow

"I feel for you my friend. Still, there is no better teacher for the healing arts."

A year had passed since Laskt's last earth-side assignment during the Battle of Karakura Central, and yet the Vizard Knight seemed much the same as ever. The same clothes still cloaked him from head to toe, his crop of blonde hair still hung messily from his head. However, unlike a year ago Laskt seemed more...relaxed, even a little more open. The surge of confidence he had gained during his defense of the city had done much to pull him out of his rut of blame and introvertedness, although the essential problems were still present. Most frustrating was the stalling in the progression of his powers, something that had only recently been overcome...

Someone seems to be getting quite full of zemselves no? You may have contrived some method to keep me restrained, but don't zink zat makes you ze second coming of Ulv Auber. Ze second you lapse in concentration is ze second I take my throne.

Grimacing, Laskt shook his head like a dog trying to shake water from its body. "Apologies, it gets noisy upstairs sometimes." He said, tapping the side of his head. While his newfound resolve had leashed Tozat somewhat, preventing the rampages that had plagued the early days of his resurgence, the Hollow was still far from benign. Every time he donned the mask, he could feel the bonds he had placed on the Hollow slip ever so slightly. Soon, he would need to have the discussion that Ulv had always said he would need, before her untimely passing.

The thoughts of Ulv saddened the Vizard, his expression darkening for a moment. Never again would the strange yet kind woman be there to assist him, never again could he seek reassurance in her absolute power. It was up to him now to master his abilities, carrying forth the gift she had given him. Still, he had to move foward, and the inter-division patrols that Abalia had set up had kept his mind occupied since Ulv's passing. If nothing else, talking to Sol had been an enjoyable distraction from the monotony of patrol.

Unfortunately, it seemed that peacetime would soon come to a close.

Laskt detected the energy buildup just as Sol did, Ceros if the energy signiature was anything to judge by. Laskt grimaced, ripping his Zanpaktou from its sheath and marshalling his powers. Whoever had ambushed them, they had some serious power: the Vizard Knight had only felt Ceros of this magnitude a few times in his life. Back in the Madness City, he had been helpless against them, and could only resort to his own Hollow powers to resist the fallen Vizard's blasts. He had been weak, cowardly, and unable to discharge his duty as a member of the Shinigami. Now however, it was different. Laskt was no longer a weakling that needed protection. The Shinigami raised the blade above his head, clasping it with both hands. A moment's hesitation, and then:

"Protect them, Junkyomaru."

An ancient Reiatsu of both Hollow and Shinigami erupted forth, carrying with it the feeling of ages long past. White flames that seemed to outshine the sun itself in their brilliance burst forth in a mighty wave, blowing past Sol and directly clashing against the oncoming Cero blasts. Sol himself would feel no pain from the fires that licked at his flesh, but instead a sort of peace, a clarity of body and soul even as the fires raged and spun around him. The massive blast punched a hole in the wave of corrupted reishi, forming a small pocket of safety from within the bombardment, leaving the Shinigami standing on a small plateau in the midst of a smoking crater. Of course, he was not alone. Within the blaze of white stood Laskt Matiche, the Vizard Knight, clad in the aura of his true power.

Laskt's Zanpaktou, the sword that had been with him for a thousand years of isolation, was no more. In its place was a massive broadsword, nicked and bloody but still razor sharp. The Vizard Knight's body was clad in a blue gambeson, breeches and heavy boots, with ornate, expertly crafted armor adorning the lower half of his body. Even as the Vizard Knight turned to face the oncoming threat, the armor would slowly creep up his body, becoming more and more complete even as his Reiatsu continued to climb.

"Come Sol, let's kick its ass." The Vizard Knight growled, raising his massive blade in a two handed grip and charging headlong at the Hollow Dragon with a flash-step. The power of his Shikai surged like a river within Laskt''s soul, and the sheer delight of finally letting go almost made him laugh aloud. Contrary to what one might expect, the armor seemed to magnify his speed even further, making him naught but a blue and silver streak, charging across the battlefield. Flames spilled from every pore as he launched another massive blast of Purity Flame to tear away at the Hollow's very essence....

Honor Stacks: 1/7
Armor Bought: Lower Body
Empowered: N/A

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I. Basic Information

Laskt, for once, was at peace.

The Vizard knight wafted the scent of the coffee under his nose, appreciating the scent of the dark roast. Laskt had found this little shop shortly after his promotion to a seated officer, and appreciated both the simplicity of its design and the quality of its beverages. It was a nice way to get away from all the hustle and bustle of the Third Division Headquarters to relax a little or work on a few reports. While Laskt did appreciate his new life, there were moments where he longed for the quiet and solitude of the Detention Unit. It had been a prison of his own making, but at least he didn't have to worry about some rank amateur nearly immolating him with a poorly-cast Kido

As if the thoughts of the Stealth Force had summoned him, Laskt spotted Henrex Astillon emerging from Shino Academy just across the street. The former Captain and he perhaps hadn't been friends (acquaintances at best), but Henrex was also one of the few that had treated him well in the Detention Unit. Laskt supposed he couldn't blame those who hadn't: it had been easy to mock the fact that one of the oldest Shinigami in Soul Society was so incredibly weak. Still, Laskt had been meaning to check up on the man since his retirement, and now was as good a time as any.

"Monsieur Henrex!" A voice would call out as Laskt jogged to catch up with his former Captain. "It is good to see you! How hahve you been? I hahven't seen you seence I departed ze Stealth Fahrce."

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The Soldier Quincy

Jonathan Weber

Laskt's Templates 6EdIfMt

Artist: Teminite - Song: Ascent - Word Count: NA

It had been a very long year.

While the debacle in Vastime had done wonders for his credibility in the Vandereich, moving him slightly past the label of an "artificial" Quincy, the experience had also left him bedridden for weeks, hovering at the boundary between life and death. Unlike some of his peers among the Quincy, Johnathan had no supernatural healing abilities, nor the experience with Blut to lessen the impact of the wounds the Hollows had dealt him. No, despite all of the cool powers Johnathan now possessed, he had had to do things the old-fashioned way: hospitals, bed-rest, and plenty of physical therapy.

Even after he had been released, the former soldier's troubles still refused to end. Cyrus ast-Auramazda, his patron, had experienced a disaster with his unique abilities, the details of which he was not that familiar. What Johnathan did know, however, is that the aftershock of the event had nearly stripped him of his own abilities, and had sent him collapsing right back over the hospital threshold. It was only a month ago that he had awoken, and only few weeks since his powers had somehow restored themselves.

His string of disasters was part of the reason why his current situation was so confusing. Johnathan stood at the entry way to the headquarters of the Todgestalten: the Quincy's black ops unit. The missive that had ordered him to report here was a little vague on details as to why exactly he, a rank amateur Quincy at the very best, was being considered for such a prestigious position, but Jonathan certainly wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Grinding out his cigarette beneath his boot heel, and checking for the last time he had his orders in his pocket, Jonathan entered the building, making a beeline for the receptionist. "Good morning. I vas ordered to report here for reazignment?"
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