CLOSED SIGNUPS BLEACH: Imbalance

  • Welcome back, Iwaku! While we are still working on the site to get it back into shape, we've come back online so you can get back to doing what you love. Check out this announcement for more details.

Red Thunder

A Warrior in a Garden
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both/Either
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, SciFi, Modern, Magical
#1


The sliver of the waning moon cast a dim light upon the village below, illuminating little. Here and there, orange beams of light ebbed against the evening sky, the lanterns flickering gently in an unseen breeze. Save for the odd patrolman, the streets bore no activity; the incursion of the Westerners and the influence they had brought with them had left the country in no small state of unrest, and those who otherwise wished to avoid any violence at all were as a rule locked within their homes well before the curfew.

Perhaps it is unfair to say the streets bore no activity. A pair of figures stood on opposite ends of a block, facing one another in positions of defense. Two orbs, piercingly red, glared daggers at the man that stood before them. Irritating little bug, with its irritating little stinger. It needed food, yes; food enough to sate the hunger for a few precious seconds longer. Safer food. Weaker food. Other-

With a sharp howl, it stepped back, clawed hand clutching at the stump that was moments before its other. It took a step back, hesitant, and blasted out a desperate and angry cry.

G͙͈̘̜̻͓Ì͏̴̮̠͚̻̘̬̦̱V̸̙̲͡E̷̫̰͚̥͝ ̡̜͓͙̘M͓̦͠E̢̹̱̮̲͎̙͈ ͏̘͍́͞F̥̙̳͕̱̫͠O̼̝̩͔͔̘̯O҉̷͏͙̞̞Ḍ̰͘

“Sorry,” came the stupidly calm reply. “You’d only get a stomach ache.”

The little bug, the Shinigami, vanished, its stinger with it. Suddenly the world exploded from behind the bleached white of the grotesque mask, blinding and damning pain tracing its way down between the piercing red orbs, straight through its razor-filled jaw. Agony tainted fury followed it, but it did not remain. Instead the fury softened, fading, carrying the pain away as tranquility bled through and filled the emptiness it had sought to fill with others. It- she exhaled deeply, and like falling into bed beneath a mountain of blankets, she disappeared from the World of the Living to be greeted in the Soul Society. Sheathing his Zanpakuto sword, the Shinigami called Shinji Fujikawa merely stared at the emptiness it left behind, face expressionless but eyes hard.


“This is stupid.”

Still apparently uncomfortable in the long robes of the captain of 2nd Division, Captain Shihōin raised a hand to her neck, driving away the blossoming itch that had grown only more persistent. Despite being the newest promotion in the Gotei 13, she bore no hesitation in speaking out.

Thirteen persons lined the generous space of the Captain Commander’s Hall, each of them wearing varying cuts of a white coat, and each coat bore a unique symbol on its back, specifying to which Division each captain belonged. Most stood at some form of military attention, while a few lounged. One, a man of apparent age wearing a long beard, sat upon a high backed chair, shoulders squared and back bent, the very picture of power and frailty. On one side, another man cleared his throat.

Captain Miyamoto was perhaps Shihōin’s opposite in every way. Male to her female, experienced to her amateur, restrained to her brazen. Even in appearance, they were different: his pale skin clashed appreciably against her own dark tone. He bowed his head minutely to his neighbor in the formation of captains.

“Captain Shihōin,” he addressed her, irritatingly abiding by formality despite their equality in rank, “I can assure you that it isn’t. 3rd Division keeps records of Hollows in every regard we can, down to their length of stay from their time of change from a Plus to their time of cleansing.”

“And I can corroborate,” came the raspy addition from Captain Ukitake. He paused, covering his mouth in the crook of his arm as a fit of coughing incapacitated him. The others waited, some shifting awkwardly, until he gathered his composure. “Apologies. As I was saying, 13th Division has seen a decrease in Hollow contacts of late as well. My guess is that they are sheltering in Hueco Mundo and avoiding the World of the Living, though for what reason, I couldn’t guess.”

From the floor, a small voice broke in. The 6th Captain lounged in her spot, propped up on her hands as she leaned backwards.

“Then let’s not just guess!” Captain Kuchiki’s tone was chipper as ever. It drew her some disapproving if long-suffering looks, but all remained silent. Kuchiki continued. “Let’s get a team together, yeah? Go poke around their stomping grounds and see what’s going on.”

“That is not how we do things, Lemara. You know this quite well.”

The single figure not standing aligned with the others in their formation, the Captain Commander held the 6th Captain in a steady, blank gaze through blades of stark white eyebrows. His voice was harsh and cutting, torn and rebuilt by long ages of combating threats against the Soul Society. The room echoed gently with a chorus of quiet creaks as more than a few of the captains shifted uncomfortably in their places, and Kuchiki was no exception. Her mouth snapped shut against any retort, and eyes downcast, she stood to a respectful position. Genryūsai Yamamoto slowly shifted his gaze from one captain to the next, and no one dared meet his eye. Ostensibly his equal, they knew well that whatever the 1st Captain said, went. And there would be no arguing it.

“I think I need not spell out for you what this could mean, if it be a sign of the worst.” Hand lifting from where it had rested atop its brother on his characteristic staff, the Captain Commander gestured beyond them, toward the doors, and to the world beyond. “The Hollows are but wayward Souls: if not for our own cleansing, we might otherwise be them ourselves. Remember: we fight them to heal them, and their true destruction is as much a cause for concern for us as would the true demise of one of our own.

“Meet with your seated officers, everyone. Prepare them for what may come, that we not be caught unawares.” Slowly his staff raised and quickly descended, and the resulting clack against the wooden flooring raced passed them with ferocity. “They have been notified. Now, to your posts! And may the Soul King guide us.”


Another Hollow cleansed. Yet another Soul filled with unrepentant sin forgiven. A job well done, as ever; routine, but necessary. Shinji turned and walked away, trying to avoid thinking too much about it. Behind him came the telltale shouts of one of the humans, calling for assistance; the inexplicable destruction such a battle usually resulted in garnered immediate attention, usually, and the so called “police” of the human world would be responding quickly, even despite the late hour. Shinji gave a glance over his shoulder, the edge of his mouth tightening in consideration. Not too long ago, these men would be dressed in rough parallel to himself. Now, they wore strange uniforms, with pants and shirts fitting too tightly on their bodies for his own liking. And they carried strange weapons, some of them, not unlike their cannons, only in miniature. 12th Division has reported that these “rifles” loosed miniature shot called “bullets”. But that was for Research and Development to concern themselves with; he still needed to be on the lookout.

It had been a slow night. At least three Hollows would have been dispatched by this point on any other night, but the moonlit streets seemed preternaturally quiet. Gathering strength in his legs, he leapt to the peak of a nearby house, finding a point of balance from which to survey. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to expect- well, not disaster so much, but a certain level of danger, only for that expectation to not be met. It was like expecting one more stair step, only to find that you’d reached the top already.

S҉h̫͎̮͚̬̲͟e̹̦ ͕w̳̱͍a҉͉̭̟̳s̟̦̼͖ ̜̯͔̪m̱̲̯̺͖̰ͅy͝ ̯̰̲̖̪̮ņ̬̰̼̮̮̯̲e҉x͔t͔̝̭͡ͅ m̴̜̣͉è͉̥̜a̞͕͓̱̤̺͖l͎̹̦̭͙̥,̬́ ̶y̼̩ͅo̜̱̟͇̣̤ͅu̝͚͙ k͏̣̘̙̗͈̤n̗͇͇̪̠̞̣o̝̰̘͙̫w.̴̝̜ ̤͎̬S̪̞̻̪̹̜̠͟h̝͈̟è̥̺̙̣ ̖w͉̬͍̹̲̠a͇s̨̹̩͓͙̯ ̲̘g̨̘̺̳o̴i̷n̡͎̬̤̩̙̭g͓͈ ̰̩͕t҉̭ǫ̹̲̖ ͞b͚̹e ̺̭t̰͕̼̫̙͜ͅas̱͎ṱ̭͎͙̟y̫̪͇.̵ ̵̻̜̝̗̪̩

Shinji spun, his Zanpakuto Akuma coming loose from the sheath to point at the strangely composed voice. A creature stood some twenty feet away on the same rooftop, hunched and bowed, yet quite obviously hiding an intimidating girth that likely rivaled one of the Seireitei’s mighty gates. Still bearing the desperate fury of the damned in its tone, this Hollow yet indulged in conversation, and with a Shinigami it no doubt meant to try to eat. Tongue tracing the inside of his teeth as he tried to work out why exactly it had done so, Shinji gestured at the beast with his blade.

“Why not go find another weak Hollow to snack on, then? Why pick a fight with me?”

T̛̜̩h̖̩̲̖̟e͠r̵̘̘̭͇̭e͕͎͕͍͉̣̠ ̞i͙̦͕ͅs̵͎ ̖͖͍̤p͚l̪̫͉̹ea͔̟̗̦s͙͉̫͉͚̲͖u̘r̰̩͉e͓͚̺̳͕̙ ̞̬̤͔̦̕i̘̰̼͞ǹ͉̰̰͍̱ ̱̱͜a͢ ̵̹͎h́u͏͎n̸̠̪̩̪t̟̜̳̹̺̙͡,͚͍̭͕̝̜͠ ̺̼̖R̤͉̹̩̳͇͕͝e͚͙̘͜ap̷͕͙̣ͅe͈̬r̯̜̩̳̟̤̗;̼̦̥̱ ͍̫̼͚͟s̯̠̝u͍͈͈r̀e̟̞͓̖̘̦̞ḻ͖̲̘y̴̥ ͘y̮̦̝̘̤̘͍o̬͕̼͚̭u̺̰ ̙͕͔̖̠͘k͏̯̠͎͚͕̤̞ņ̬͓o̖̬͖̺̳͈w̴̳ ̴͎̭̖̣ͅț̨̱̝͕͉̲h̹̪̞̖̞i̞͓̭͍̜s̙͎͔̀.̗̳̟̯̤͔ ̳̝̣̟̮̠T̢̝ͅo͓̣ ̘̺̮͔b͓̝͉͈̲̖e̪͖̙͜g͉͙̘̰̻͖͘i̞̱̭̳͙̬͞ņ̹̫̼ ͇̜̮f̤̱̣͉̭r͇̬̗̘ͅͅo̺͠m͙̺ͅ ͕̭̠̜s̟̙̠̜̱̥͝ͅc͇͜r͙̪̦̬̮̝̩ąt̩̠̞͖̜̥̯c͚̙̠͖̕h̵͓̼̖̦͓̣̮ ̵͔̗̹͙ͅi̝͉͉͔s̸̩̙̟̱̖̝̯ ͟.̴̜̼͇̼͓..̡̣̹̩̙̪͕ ̦͈t̻̝̙i̜̩͚̦̟͔ͅr̢̙e̫s͍̪̩̫o̞͞m͎̮̦̞̼̥e͏̥̣̯̮̥.͉͈̞͚̰͍͢ ̛͍̮̠

“Fine, I get that.” Mentally, he tried to squash the twist his stomach was doing at the comparison. “Still, instead of eating something else, you came to me. Hollows don’t normally do that.”

R̻̪̫͉e̩͇̝̬͢g̛̳̰r͎͚͍̜̟͈ͅe͕t̥t͙̳̼̭̬́ḁ̖͇b̺͡l̳̻̥̣y,͎̪̩͖̭͔̀ͅ ͇͖̣̣̝w̬e͞ ̸̭͈̮͓͕̖t̤̱̪͇̣̗w̺o͓̖̪̼͎ͅ ̫̦̩̗̀a͜r̶͖̻e͇ ͙̘n͕͕o͈͓t̜̱̞̤̮͕̩͘ ̧̙̗̺͍ṭ͔̼̯̻̱͙̕h͕̥̳ẹ͇͎ ̯͓̮͖̪̯o̸̰nl̫̺͢y̗̼̘͇̤ ̶͈͈̟̼̙H̺̙͙͇̦͔̝̀u̹̫͉̱͕̙͕n̙̳̫̜t͚͎̜͓̼͖͘e̠̦̫̙̣͍͙͘ṟ̟͡ͅs̺̬̘̹,̼͇͍̻̬͇͍ ̭͙̬͈̣a͓͉̖̠̖̮͎̕n̜͍̙̖̜̜̳d̙́ ̭̜̙̝͈̙̞͞ę̩v͈̤̩e̶̫̣n̢̼͖ ̝̭ẃ̳̱̙̱͍̗e̹̟̗̳͇͍̗ ̡̟̻̖̝H͔͉͚̭̗͈o̜̱͕̟̘̼͝l̳l̺̠͙̤̕o̘̘̖̖w ̯M͇̣̼͔̹̯̠a̦̮y̴̦̼͍̼ ̘̞b̨̮͖e̳c̗͉ọ̜m̖̗̫͍͓̞̹͟e̥͔̗̼̳͜ͅ ̤͇̙̮̻̩p̠̹̠͜r͉̭͇͡e̜̝͈̩y͎̱̣̣̪ ͚̻͙̩t̗̳̰͖o͔̰ ̟͚̦͎a̦͇͖̹̭̬̜n̴̫̜̗̼̥͕ ̖̳͇͍͕o̻͙̪̘ͅu̴̗t̛͔̰̫͉͉s̭i͏̬̤d̳̘͖e͉̪̯͙̻r̦̺̝̩̳̦.

It grimaced. Or perhaps it smiled ruefully through the maw of ragged teeth. It traced a line vertically down its mask, the gesture obvious in intent.

̻̼͎̖͓͚C̩͍͍̰̭ͅḷ̞̹̫̱͎ẹ̙̳ạ̰͉n͏̙̜̟̜̠ͅs̢i͍̖n̬͉̺̼̼ǵ͖̹̯͉ ̪̠̩͔̞i҉̘s̴̮̦ ̘̳̦̺a̤̭̭̬̺͕f̖͚͔͈̳̖t̳͎͔̯͍͎͝e̕r̦̜̬ ̰̲̪̦̥a̜l̨͇l̠̮̗̹͟ ̠̙̜̝t̩̖̭̫͍̱͉͡h̳e̢͙ ͈͎p͎̼rḛ̥̪f̩̫͢e̜̥̠͘r̴͎͎̦͕̘̝a͓͍̝̣̗͓b̼̙̘̩̼̲͈̀l͚͙̭͎̠͉e̢ ̞̱̙̙o͚̗̲̹͚̫̯͝p̻̫ṭ̺͚̳̜i̤̝̗̭͠o̡̠͉n҉̗̖.̠̟̠͞ ͉͍

Akuma lowered in Shinji’s hand as his face twisted in confusion. What was going on? A Hollow sought to be killed? Such an act would cause the damned Soul to lose its identity as such in favor of regaining its Whole cognizance. But it seemed to know this. To think it better than-

“The preferable option to what, exactly?”

In apparent answer, the Hollow’s mask cracked into pieces as fine as sand, an unnatural blue light filling the spaces between. The light seemed to shove the pieces away, for the mask shattered. Screaming in terror filled agony, the Hollow collapsed to the rooftop. The mask gone, Shinji could see it’s exposed face. Frozen in horror, the widened eyes of a old man perhaps 80 years old stared up at him, and between those eyes was a hole the diameter of a fishing pole. The body lay still for the briefest moment before a kind of accelerated rot seemed to take it, destroying flesh and bone in the span of seconds before there was nothing left but ash.

Stunned, Shinji had merely stood where he was, unsure of what to do. As the Hollow finally faded from existence, a shadow broke off from its surroundings and dropped to the street level. Shouting a Halt!, Shinji gave chase, and though he was on the street mere moments later, there was no sign of anyone. Scoffing in frustration, he turned his head as the soft sound of a bell rang in his ear. A Hell Butterfly, black as jet and almost unnoticeable in the darkness, flew to his shoulder, bearing the Captain Commander’s news and orders.

Good. Maybe someone might actually have answers. Gesturing to his sudden companion, Shinji followed the Butterfly through the gates that led back to the Seireitei that had suddenly appeared in the air, leaving behind for a moment his patrol in favor of finding out just what the hell it was that was going on.

Here we go! Use your first post or two to set up some characterization for your characters, and feel free to build and use NPCs as needed! I’m going to be posting another GM post in two weeks or so to give people time to give themselves a foundation. At the end of your second post, please have your character be heading to meet with the captain, as instructions will be divvied out to each Division in the best GM post.

Thanks! Looking forward to getting this off the ground!
Greenie Greenie
Nemopedia Nemopedia
SkittlesAndSpike SkittlesAndSpike
Doctor Jax Doctor Jax
Krag_Jorgensen Krag_Jorgensen
Kuno Kuno
Shizuochan Shizuochan

 
Last edited:

Nemopedia

Storms lie. A breeze it becomes. A breath it ends.
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
The blubbing encyclopedia
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
GMT +1/2 | CET/CEST | Random, mostly on my phone
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both, depending how much there is going on already.
Favorite Genres
Tragedy, Psychological, Historical, Steampunk, Mystery, Thriller, Sci-fi, see tag list for more...
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance
#2
Libre Baskerville; Open Sans;
Mai Himura
Art by: Aoi Oata
A huge black blob moved through the streets, a mask over the top where a face was supposed to be. Huge and stretched out the ugly being was unfortunately a regular sighting within the world of the living. Though, fortunately also the easiest to deal with. However, that was not her job and thus Mai stayed passive as she observed.

It was a gillian, Mai knew to tell and she sighed. Gillian’s weren’t interesting. They were the most mundane of all hollows. However, she stayed, spiritual energy suppressed and notebook ready. Her job was important and constant alertness was needed.

It was then that the soul reaper noticed something off. The dark being, in every way the opposite to her existence, was moving fitfully, as if uncommitted to what its nature was and its usual plans. Squinting harder the female wondered why, trying to look around and sense for another pressure, or anything that interfered with its instincts. Hollows didn’t have thought, she believed. At least not until a much higher level, but it was obvious this hollow was no such impressive thing.

And then a crack was heard, shifting her eyes up Mai gasped at herself as she watched the white crumble away. Like bones deteriorating, first its nose and then the rest. The hollow screamed, roared, but was unmoving as it crumbled. What had happened? Had someone attacked the being, or was it simply self destructing? Mai had never heard of the latter and knew of no power for the former.

For a flash Mai saw the appearance of a human. Of many souls compressed together, in agony and in pain. Grabbing the hilt of her sword the soul reaper was ready to strike —for this was funny business— and let her presence be known.

The souls compressed mouthed something at her as soon as they had noticed her. However, as the path of decay had already started Mai never caught their words. Everything had been too late.

Shaken the soul reaper stared at the dust particles spreading out into the air, wondering what had happened and why. Grabbing hold of her pencil she quickly started to write what she saw, still dazed, definitely confused. She definitely had to report this immediately.

Black wings moved in the corner of her eyes. The messenger landed on her paper, spreading its wings to deliver the words it carried. Freezing, Mai pocketed her utensils once more. It seems that she could directly report without having to write it out. Though, by the sound of it they had already known about the observations of tonight. Getting up the female thus ran after the butterfly, disappearing into the night and hoping for answers.

 

Greenie

Here in the Void
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi
#3


For the most part the 2nd division was calm and quiet, night having settled in. There were still those who took the evening shift as well as those who were patrolling the streets, but in general everyone kept their behavior on the down-low. Not that their new captain would have minded. Captain Yoruichi Shihouin was an enigma, and for many she was just too young and immature to be a captain.

Hinata Surehn was not at all like her new captain, but she had no reason to doubt her superior's prowess. The higher ups had to have seen something in her to promote her to such an important status. Yes, there were those who would argue and say that the Captain was simply there because of her Noble name, but to them the Fifth seat would give a rather hard stare before ignoring their statement and changing the subject. It was useless to engage idiots, and anyone who thought the Captain was there because she was a Shihouin were, in Hinata's opinion, idiots in need of a lesson.

Arms crossed over her chest, she stood in the training courtyard, dark eyes watching over two of her underlings currently engaged in a game of tag, studying not only their shunpo but the way they were parrying each others attacks with their blunt training swords. These two had been transferred very recently and already mouthing off about things that were none of their concern. Deciding they needed to learn their lessons from the get go, Hinata hadn't shied away from ordering them for extra training after hours.

They had made a fuss, of course, but her words had been sharp and to the point. "You aren't here for fun. You are part of the 2nd Division, and remaining here is no small feat. If you cannot bear the thought of training, then this isn't the place for you. In fact, I wouldn't recommend you anywhere but back to the Academy." The two shinigami had been even more displeased by that statement, but the look in her eyes bore resolve and told them no more arguments would be tolerated.

She would have probably continued the supplementary training for another hour had she not caught sight of the Hell Butterfly. So late? A small frown creasing her forehead, she reached a hand out, letting it land on her finger. The frown increased as she learned of Captain Yamamoto had to say, but by the time she released the butterfly, her expression was back to neutral.

"Tatsuo, Yukiko," she called, addressing the two shinigami, "today's training is over. You may return to the barracks." With that said, she turned to leave as well, very curious on what her Captain would have to say about the current affairs.​
 
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A little on the aggressive side.
Favorite Genres
Scifi (Firefly, Traveller, 40k),
Cyberpunk (Shadowrun),
Urban Fantasy (WoD, Scion),
Medieval Fantasy,
Modern,
Historical
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi,
High School (Do not have fond memories),
#4
Sydney stood on the porch of her house with three younger people. Most of the other members of the household were either asleep or getting ready to go to bed. All of them were currently stretching, their arms in the air with fingers outstretched. Next to the shinigami was a shorter young man, with a short crop of blonde hair who looked to be in his twenties. Beside him was a woman who looked to be in her late teens with black hair tied in a simple bun. The last, and shortest of the three shared Sydney's red hair and looked to be approaching her teenage years. All of them had just finished a training session. Sydney was teaching them Kendo in preparation to enter the Shinigami Academy.

Of the twelve or so people of various ages who lived here, she deemed these three ready to train. The young man, Kagero was one of the first children she brought in to live with her. He would be trying for the academy later this year, she hoped he would succeed. A selfish part of her wanted to see her family to outdo the shinigami of some of those snooty noble houses. At times she jokingly referred to her family as the "Ignoble house of Ansho" Regardless of her personal opinions on the subject though, being a shinigami would give many of these orphans a better chance than just living here. She did count her blessings that she didn't end up in the outer districts, she would likely never have gotten to where she is now in a place like Inuzuri or Zaraki.

As they finished stretching, the fluttering of a Hell butterfly caught their eyes. This confused almost all present, as the small creature landed on Sydney's hand. The message flashed in her mind, briefly breaking her normal calm demeanor. She took a deep breath resignation on her face before hardening back up and shaking the butterfly off her hand. "They want me to report to my post, immediately." She said, uncertainty in her voice. "I'll be back as soon as I can." She brought them together in a hug and kissed each of them as she led them back into the house. She tucked in some of the younger ones who were still awake, kissing them goodnight.

The 11th division officer put her hands on the two older people she was practicing with "Kagero, Haruna, follow me outside." the two of them followed her out of the house and into the yard. She turned to the two of them, her expression grave and her voice direct. "That message was more dire usual. If something happens to me, please don't let this family fall apart." Kagero nodded solumnly, he used to this sort of pre-deployment speech. Haruna nodded as well, but not as quickly. In her heart she knew that one of these days her mother wouldn't come back, just like her father. She didn't show it often, but there was an element of resentment at being left to take care of the family instead of doing what she wanted to do. Still they said their goodbyes and Sydney disappeared in a flash towards the gates of the Seireitei.
 
Last edited:

Shizuochan

he hears his master's voice
DONATING MEMBER
Undiscombothrottled Shige
Posting Speed
One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
#5
Fumeisha Yuki’s Old-Home-At-Night was a different being from his Old-Home-in-Day, not least because of the expanse of it, the sheer breadth of space from which the differences were made manifest. It was the winding labyrinths and the dead-end alleys, like life-lines and love-lines upon its hand. It was the phantasmal horizon of the South, East and West -- illuminated by the peering one-eighth moon -- reflected in its eyes. It was the street rats scurrying past curfew, like freckles upon its visage. It was North Rukongai beneath the moon, the beast that nurtured him, and the many before him, and the many after him, and -- more pointedly -- the ones that had been beside him, long ago.

Shugo.

But Shugo wasn’t the weary, weathered face that peered at him from behind the thin gap of some bamboo-sheet drapings. Shugo wasn’t the pair of lovers that rounded the corner -- intent on finding a suitable location for their tryst -- and promptly retreated upon glimpsing his dark-robed form atop a thatched roof. Certainly, Shugo was also not the pair of scurrying younglings, breathlessly navigating the most ill-advised expanse of all: freedom.

Shugo was not here. He hadn’t been there in the two-hundred-or-so years Yuki had searched for him -- perhaps he was just some memory now, smeared upon the beast of Rukongai like war-paint. He should have searched earlier, the first day he was free of the Academy. He just never had.

That was his ‘long’ pain, the regret. The ‘short’ pain, the lament, came from the matter of the scurrying younglings, which compelled him to motion. He sighed, and the ambient sound of his own sigh erupting from his lips seemed to encompass the entirety of his chase, such was the facility with which he navigated the twists, turns, and rooftops of his motherhome.

“Hello.” He intoned simply, warmly regarding the young ones as they turned to face the sound of his landing footsteps.

The first, a boy. Red-haired, dark of face. Bright-eyes that caught the moon just right, and that welled over as his face instantly yielded to panic and apology. His form quivered, and bent in pieces, fell in inches, as he struggled to find his resolve, only to fail over and over again. The second, a girl. Dark-hair in a pun, light of face, hazel-eyed. She squinted, as if Yuki’s form didn’t tower over her own. Defiant beneath his shadow. Strong.

She was stronger than he had been. There was an elegance in her potential, the way she carried herself, the way her heart faltered but a little, that her breath fought so valiantly to level itself -- a beauty in that shimmering image that surrounded her in his mind’s eye, of what she could become. If she was to be exploited. Taken away, and the boy left behind.

“You… you a shinigami?” Her voice, without vibrato, refusing to be brought null by fear. “What do you want?”

“I am. And nothing so much, really.” Shugo shrugged, as he looked on sadly. One day -- one night, perhaps -- soon enough, they would ask her if she wanted to leave. Maybe they would take her, as they had taken him. One day, she would forget the boy that cowered behind her. “I’m not on patrol, exactly. I am just a fellow who used to roam the nights here, and wishes he could, again, as he once did before. But he can’t, and I can’t.”

Ah, well.

Black wings fluttered in his peripheral vision. This late at night, it portented a matter of some urgency that required him. Still.

“I have a few bits of advice, if you would care to listen to someone as old and gross as myself.”
 

Doctor Jax

Lord of the Mice
BITE Fall Managers' Pick
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
My Usual Online Time
3PM CST - 9 PM CST
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Aggressive
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Urban Fantasy, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance
#6
A brush dipped lightly into a dish of bright red lip paint, coming up to trace a full, soft mouth. White skin juxtaposed against the lurid color, hooded and careful eyes examining the exact edge of the paint to ensure it did not smudge into the snowy foundation. Lips rolled and puckered to make the glossy paint even, and Minori lifted her chin to inspect her make-up.

Satisfied that she was decent, the noble stood up, her black Shinigami robes covering an elaborate, but parsed down, set embroidered with golden koi. She smoothed the fabric as she walked across the small room, put on her shoes, and stepped out into the night. It would be late by the time she arrived at her destination, she knew, but then again, that was perhaps part of the appeal. None of her family could ask nosy questions of her whereabouts, all of them stuck inside to chat away with each other, eat, drink, and grow fat. She patted her done up hair with an annoyed frown, putting a stray lock back into place as she made her way out of the courtyard. On her hip, Kuzuebiko hung heavily like bad news, a stark difference from the rest of Minori's genteel and stately visage.

She didn't bother with shunpo, as was her usual, ambling out into the dark. Down the streets she went, and as she did, the buildings morphed into shabbier, more run-down edifices that seemed to stare out at her rather than loom with authority. Eventually, she was deep into Rukongai, the buildings no more than shacks made of wood and reeds, the buildings running over each other in their bid for space. Others were out by now, as she knew the place hardly ever slept. Despite the oddity of a noble walking among the poorest of the poor, she seemed in no hurry, taking her time, as stark and out of place as a peacock in a pit of vipers. She found who she was looking for - a simple skewered meat stand - and the man already had her order ready, handing it to her as she counted coins into his hand.

Back she walked, pensively, reluctantly.

The graveyard entrance seemed an oxymoron, a place for the dead among the Land of the Lost. She was framed by the rows of marble pillars, names inscribed upon them, some lit with candles, others overgrown and forgotten. She took a familiar turn, then another, and finally she was before a gray pillar that only read Wara, a family grave surrounded by smaller pillars. Her eyes were downcast as she lit incense and put it in the offering bowl of sand... and then stuck in the meat skewer beside it, a contrast between solemn and silly. She smiled faintly.

"Got your favorite. I know you always hated teriyaki, so I got you the house marinade instead. You'll have to tell me if it's good. I've been to that stand hundreds of times, but I always forget to try it."

She sat down in front of the grave, her back to the pillar, hoping she was pissing off all those ancestors out there living on the other side, that they would wake up angry for no reason they could discern. She took an ungracious chomp out of her own skewer, looking up at the stars. It was a nice night. It had been that night, too.

"I think I might have seen you a couple of days ago," she said softly, head leaned back against the stone. "Just from a distance. Whoever it was, they looked like they had your eyes. Maybe that's wishful thinking. I don't get out there much anymore, but there was an emergency. Still, it was nice. A blast from the past."

She grinned, eating and talking, complaining about parents, about work, life in general as it were. Suddenly, a Hell Butterfly alighted on the naked skewer in her hand, and she frowned, taking it in hand lightly. The message burst forth, and her eyes widened, then softened.

"...Sorry, lover. It looks like I'll have to leave you early," she sighed, standing and brushing herself off. "I'll try not to be gone too long. Sit tight for me."

In a dash, she disappeared, the whisp of incense spiraling after her the only evidence of her passage.
 

SkittlesAndSpike

Spekkun, denizen of Greenie's Pocket
COMMUNITY DEPARTMENT
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
#7
"51! 52! 53!" A few of the 9th division Shinigami chanted as they stood gathered around two of their fellow Shinigami, who lay on the floor pumping out push-ups as fast as they could. They were the next up for watch duty and while they waited to relieve their comrades they had decided to have what started off as a friendly competition. Whoever collapsed first would have to take the other's shift, turning this into more than just a friendly game. Every once in while, one of them would take a moment to swing his arm at the other in the hopes of messing him up. Neither wished to stand watch for a whole day.

Setsuko sat across from them, an amused face on her look as she watched. She was tempted to warn them about cheating like that, it would only tire out their arms faster, but she decided to keep that information to herself. She was only here because instead of being assigned a watch herself, she was put in charge of rotating the others in and out, a supervisor of sorts. She wasn't looking forward to it at first, but she had forgotten just how rowdy her squad could be.

"They've started placing bets now." Another Shinigami sat beside her. "Would you like to get in on the action?" He asked her, a small grin on his face as he turned his attention to the Push-up match. "You could stand to make some serious coin. "Daido looks like he's gonna start shaking once they pass 100."

"...Why not." She wasn't one for betting, but it would be her way of getting in on the fun without directly involving herself. But she didn't trust the Shinigami's judgment. For all she knew he was trying to mislead her into picking the wrong choice, or trying to play a mind game to confuse her.

"Great! We're starting at 50 Kan and-" Setsuko tuned him out as she watched the push-up contest, looking to see who seemed the most tired. Both men had passed 110 push-ups by now, but only Daido was trying so hard to knock his opponent over. It was probably out of desperation. Both were pretty weak by her standards, they hardly took their training as seriously as the rest of the squad. Either Daido would succeed and knock his opponent over or he would lose because his arm got tired. Either was a possibility.

"Give me 50 kan on Daido." She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. Why not? It was only 50 kan. "If I'm wrong, I'll bring it to you tomorrow."

"Alright!" The Shinigami stood immediately, making his way over to the gathered chanters. "Miss Hayashi is in!" He shouted before joining in the counting.

Setsuko inwardly snorted at the exclamation. She understood it though, she didn't normally join them for fun. That and they stood to make 50 Kan from the proceeds if she was wrong. If anything, she was sure the one who asked her to join in would choose the same option she did, so if she lost she would find it funny that she let him down.

The hell butterfly fluttered into the room, landing on her nose for just a moment before fluttering away. Setsuko didn't let her surprise stun her for a moment, raising her voice to speak. "That's enough horseplay, you'll rotate shifts now." It wasn't much louder than her speaking voice, but it was enough that it got the attention of the group.

"But Captain...!" Daido's opponent started to protest the early rotation when Daido swept his arms from under him, causing him to hit the floor. For a moment, the bystanders were about to cheer, but instead, they separated, heading off to start their watch.

A small chuckle escaped Setsuko before she stood up. "I expect my Kan by tomorrow." She told the Shinigami as they walked away before taking her leave as well. She prayed that whatever the reason for the summoning, it wasn't too bad.​
 

Kuno

Django Jane
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine doing both. However, while I am ok with being the passive player, it would be nice if the aggressive player took suggestions from me every once in a while.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Sci fi, Romance, Historical, Modern, Supernatural
Genre You DON'T Like
School life
#8
Sumiko Sado


Location: Akai Ike

It was not an idyllic spot, but it served its purpose. The many decades of neglect had left the small park a mess of gnarled roots and rocks, much of the stone pathways overgrown by assorted flora. The wooden arches that preceded the area were choked by masses of green vines. Little remained of the prayer house that used to sit at the edge of the park; destroyed, so they’d said, in a Hollow attack long ago. The desolation was enough to keep most people away.

Sumiko was quite content with that. Unbeknownst to most, the park’s pond was still intact, still teeming with the iridescent koi fish. Their massive bodies swelled against the pond’s edge as the 3rd seat dipped her hand into the water, her palm filled with food bits. She clucked her tongue at how quickly the fish ate. They were growing bigger, these wild pets of hers. When Time had first brought her here, they were smaller than the palms of her hands. Now they were large enough to devour them whole. She would have to tell Time; maybe he’d be kind enough to cook one of them for her.

She rocked back onto her heels. A good thing that she did; she looked up just in time to see a figure approach silently from her right side. Sumiko started, only to relax when she recognized the black of the shihakusho of the Shinigami uniform. In the moonlight, the round-faced youth of a young girl revealed itself. The 3rd seat sighed heavily. She recognized her from her squad.

That could only mean one thing.

Sumiko’s smile was sickly sweet. “So, you’ve found my hiding spot. Jiung-See sent you to find me, didn’t he?”

She could kill that girl where she stood. Still smiling, she rose to her feet, brushing the debris off her robes with unnecessary force. The dumb girl was oblivious to the violence radiating off of her and drew closer still, her eyes wide with naiveté.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t-didn’t mean to in-in-interrupt.” Heavens, the poor child was a stuttering mess.

“You should be careful, sneaking up on people like this. They’ll think you’re coming to kill them.”

“Yes, I’ll-”

“What is that?” Sumiko demanded suddenly, cutting the girl off. The “that” in question was a roll of bound papers in the girl’s right hand. Sumiko had noticed something in her hand when the girl had first approached, but at closer inspection she saw they were sheaths of paper. She had a sinking feeling of what they were; the twisted scowl on her face only intensified at the girl’s reluctance to speak.

“Are those assignment papers for me?”

The young officer was too intimidated to do anything but nod. Sumiko drew in a deep breath.

“Give them to me.”

Snatching them out of her hands, Sumiko scanned the smudged lettering quickly. At the sight of the words "training", the 3rd seat let out an unladylike snort and twisted away.

“Hmph! Another training assignment. They never end!” Sumiko complained hotly, flapping the papers around as she spoke. “Always field assignments, always always always!. All the hard work gets pushed on poor old Sumiko. I’m just a pretty face, good for babysitting. That lazy Jiung-See hasn’t moved his fat ass in years.”

Her voice hitched up a note as she mocked her lieutenant's voice. “‘Sado, do this. Sado, do that. You’re so sweet, Sado.’ Pah!”

“Uh, Sa-Sado...?”

Sumiko all but hissed as she whirled around. “What? What is it?”

The sight of fluttering black wings silenced her instantly. Her face sobered as the butterfly relayed its message. It was something serious; for all seated officers to be summoned, it had to be something of high importance. She couldn’t avoid this one.

Somehow that was Jiung-See’s fault.

Sumiko turned away sharply and plucked away at her things, gathering them up into her arms with much regret. The carefully assorted food basket she’d made lay untouched, and perhaps that was the biggest crime of all; she hadn’t had a chance to even eat.

Somehow that was also Jiung-See’s fault.

“I have to go. You should report back to that good-for-nothing Lieutenant of yours. He’ll be wanting to know if you found me.”

Actually, most likely Jiung-See got the message as well, but Sumiko was too annoyed to consider that. Better to give the young girl something to do, lest she believe she screwed up. Speaking of which...the 3rd seat paused and regarded the officer critically.

“A word of advice,” She began carefully. The girl had stooped down to help gather Sumiko’s things, but she turned back earnestly to hear what Sumiko had to say. She nearly rolled her eyes at the shining of the girl’s eyes. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about this one listening.

“I can tell that you’re strong. You’ll do well to be careful of that lazy bullhead Jiung-See. If I know anything about him, he’ll attempt to block your rise through the ranks. That stupid fool is jealous of anyone with potential. Thinks everyone wants to take his job. Idiot.” Sumiko sniffed daintily. “Me personally, I…”

There was a pregnant pause. Her subordinate leaned in expectantly, but the thought never finished. Instead, a piece of indigo fabric was shoved into her hands as Sumiko changed tack.

“Here; since you’ve ruined my leisure time, you could at least finish my needlework for me. Try not to get lost on your way back to the Seireitei.”

In an instant, the brightly colored form of the Shinigami vanished, leaving behind an unfinished sashiko square in the hands of one stunned, red-faced squad member.

 
Last edited:

Red Thunder

A Warrior in a Garden
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both/Either
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, SciFi, Modern, Magical
#9
Third Division


”It was fast, Captain; faster than it had any right to be! No human is that fast, correct? But- it’s almost like it moved like a Shinigami.”


“I don’t know, sir; the figure was too far off to see details. Smallish, maybe man-sized, but it was gone as soon as I’d seen it; I assumed I imagined the whole thing.”


“I did feel reiatsu, Aiji, yes. But-“ A pause to cough. “It was no pressure I knew. Not Hollow, not Shinigami. Even the Kido Corps, subtly different as they may feel to those of use more discerned, was so alien to this. I don’t know, Aiji; I just don’t know.”



Aiji Miyamoto considered this last account carefully. Before him lay in uncharacteristic clutter lay a crowd of papers, each a personal account recorded by his lieutenant and heard by him. Each containing different impressions from Shinigami of different Divisions that had come into contact with mysterious individuals who seemed at least tangentially connected to the destruction of Hollows. No other, save the captains of each Division, knew of these strange goings on. That was the idea, anyway; every Shinigami who had come in with a report had been sworn to secrecy under severe penalty, and Aiji had been relentless in tracking down those who witnessed such things. Again he considered the report within his hands.


For Captain Ukitake himself to be unable to identify a being’s reiatsu was worrisome; calling the captain of 13th Division ‘experienced’ seemed to do him an injustice. Despite himself, Aiji frowned at the hole that seemed to form in his stomach. There was something the Shinigami were missing, something vastly important.


The light step of a subordinate echoed through the quiet chamber where he awaited the highest ranks of his division, and he looked up to see Mai Himura step inside.


“Himura. Good.” His head dipped in acknowledgment, eyes examining her in the almost critical fashion that a military sergeant would give his soldiers. As he always did with all of his subordinates. Most had learned to accept it. They each reflected upon one another, bolstering or ruining reputations, and Aiji maintained a formal if relaxed environment, demanding professionalism while still allowing for some independence. “We have things to discuss, once the others get here. Tell me; how was the trip?”


He placed Ukitake’s report down on the table, stacking all the papers together before filing them away again. Once done, he folded his hands on the desk and gave Himura his full attention.

Nemopedia Nemopedia


~


Second Division


His chefs had outdone themselves this time. When Lt. Ōmaeda had gotten the news of an impromptu meeting of the seated positions within each division, he had immediately sent up an order to the kitchens to prepare as filling a meal as they might in such short time. He almost chuckled to himself as he pulled a particular favorite dish, eyeing the rice cake greedily as he congratulated himself for including an expansive kitchen in the new barracks that the he’d commissioned and signed off on while the new captain was still being chosen. Fortunately, Captain Shihōin had not disapproved.


The new captain. He took a large bite of the rich cake, contemplative. The new captain was … energetic, to state it simply. Or maybe ‘dedicated’ was the better word. Passionately pursuing every duty, the captain expected her subordinates to do the same. Some did so with equal drive; the Fifth Seat, Surehn, struck Ōmaeda that way, and irritated him for some reason. His mastication of the rice cake became more aggressive; loyalty and obedience was well and good, but damn, excessively seeking extra work made the others look bad!


“The hell are you even working for?” He asked generally, to no one in particular; he’d passed Surehn on his way to the location, quick and silent as was his habit. And the sight of her training some of her subsquad had left him smirking. “It’s late; take the hell of, for Soul Kong’s sake.”


He didn’t hear Hinata enter.

Greenie Greenie


~


11th Division


Per the usual, the grounds of the 11th Division barracks were filled with raucous laughter, biting insults, and the occasional sound of fist impacting flesh. The smell of alcohol was thick, overpowering every nose that entered it. As Sydney stepped onto the grounds, a few members of the group stumbled up, each more inebriated than the next. The closest shook a likely empty bottle of sake at her.


“Shidneh! Shidneh, mah girl! Come’re and have a taste uh-“


“Yah feckin idjit!” The second Shinigami cracked the first across the head with a bottle, shattering it and spraying beer and glass everywhere. “If’n she’sh here this late, meansh summat immmmportn’! Leev’er ‘lone!”


The third of the group, a bit behind the others but no less drunk, fell to his knees to poke pathetically at the broken bottle that had fallen to the earth. The first Shinigami, having clearly not felt the impact but nevertheless highly offended that such precious liquid would be wasted, turned on his heel and planted a balled fist into the second’s face. In reaction, the second kicked out, catching the first’s leg with his foot.


“Fifth Seat Ansho.” An even tone cut through the chaos, a strong voice very obviously full of barely controlled power. Some thirty feet off stood Captain Jinchiro Kenpachi, a man built rather like a barrel: short and broad, with arms like pillars and a full shock yellow beard that reached to his sash. He stood weaponless, apparently ignoring the partying about them, waiting for her to join him wear he stood. “The others wait for us.”

Krag_Jorgensen Krag_Jorgensen


~


Sixth Division


The red haired boy had not moved, save for his mouth, which seemed to be trying to work out a reply, or perhaps an apology for some perceived transgression. But the dark haired girl observed him for a moment, assessing what a Shinigami could offer her, such as she was, a reject of Heaven. She raised a hand, finger pointing at his chest.


“You’re not gross; you’re weird. Rincho here is gross. That red hair.” She shook her head, having made a painfully obvious statement of fact. Then she shrugged. “But we’ve got nowhere to be. Sure, old man; tell us your advice.”


“The- but the Doorman…” the boy began, an unnamed and unmentioned fear becoming evident in his eyes. But the girl tutted him, her brow dipping in frustration before she turned back to Yuki to see what he might say.


At the Sixth Division’s briefing room, Captain Lemara Kuchiki eyed the Third Seat’s empty chair with a snarl before starting with her briefing. She’d waited long enough, and she could at least get her prompt subordinates up to date.


“Something is offing Hollows, boys. Erasing them as effectively as the 11th erases the Seireitei’s sake supply. The higher ups are worried that whatever or whoever is doing this will target Shinigami before too long, if in fact they already haven’t.” From where she sat on her desk, Lemara gestured to the five sheets of parchment that were laid out beside her. On each was a map, detailing specific cities as well as points of high Hollow activity within them. “Each of you, come get one. We’re gonna be on patrol tonight, looking for any signs of missing Shinigami in the World of the Living. And of course, anyone you come across should be extricated right away.


“Questions?”

Shizuochan Shizuochan


~


Eighth Division


Captain Shunsui Kyōraku sat just outside the exterior doorway to the barracks, a small dish of half drank sake in on hand. The meeting with his subordinates had gone off without a hitch, and each had received their tasks dutifully. They had since gone to execute them, leaving Kyōraku to sit silently just outside. Those passing by thought it likely that their captain had fallen asleep once again, inebriated after having to perform such a mentally taxing duty as conduct a meeting. Those who held the captain in less regard rolled their eyes and shook their heads.


Kyōraku stared blankly into his cup, unwilling to drink the rest. All his seated positions had accepted their tasks, save his lieutenant. Nori had not been there before the meeting started, nor while it was occurring, nor had she arrived since. A cold fear touched his heart, that she should act out of character at this particular time of concern among the Gotei 13. He longed to speed off in search of her, to find her, to assure himself that his friend was safe. But he could not leave the other three seated officers alone. It was the point of two leading officers, after all: should one be compromised, there was yet another to fulfill the duties.


Kyōraku prayed that Minori had not been compromised.


A practiced and alert eye spotted an individual pass by: Shinji, Fifth Seat of Thirteenth Division. He smiled in spite of the circumstance; maybe the boy would do the job for him. Beckoning him over, Kyōraku tilted back his hat and gave an apologetic shrug.


“I’m sorry to ask this, but I need a favor…”

Doctor Jax Doctor Jax


~


Ninth Division


Taibin Oha, Ninth Division’s Third Seat, started awake. In charge of the graveyard shift, he had only been asleep for a few hours. It was the best shift, in his opinion: anything exciting was likely to happen during the sleeping hours, you got to get blitzed during the daylight hours, and you slept away the heat of the day and the nagging of the brass. He’d gone to bed more than a little drunk, having partied a fair deal with some pretty thing from Fourth Division. She’d been easy to woo, far easier than he usually liked: a simple I need some of your special healing, babe had gotten her into his bed, and she lay there still.


Taibin stared at her blankly, head throbbing from a light hangover, as he wondered why the hell it was he was awake. Regaining some small sense, he glanced around, finding his bearings. Yep, his own room, with all his things in place, and no danger. He sat up, rubbing his face before lying back down.


The Hell Butterfly landed on his upturned ear again, the accompanying chime seeming like a gong against his hangover. Cursing vehemently, Taibin leapt up, swatting the thing away from his face before realization dawned as to what it was that had awakened him. The message finally coming loud and clear, he frowned deeply. It was too early for this crap.


A short time later, he was en route to the Ninth Division’s briefing room, yawning widely and holding his head. He glanced up as Hayashi hurried past.


“Slow down, Setsuko; you’ll make me look bad.”

SkittlesAndSpike SkittlesAndSpike


~


Thirteenth Division


Jiung-See sat at the desk, head in his hands as he examined the never ending list before him. The Central 46 required repeated training for every Shinigami, and routinely pushed out new policies and protocols to learn and abide by. Normally, tackling such a thing would be easy, but Captain Ukitake took ill so regularly that Lieutenant Jiung-See very often did the work of both positions. The stress was getting to him; he’d been rather short with poor Sasuke, his impatience with Sumiko coming out as he asked the girl to deliver the training orders for him, and he was regretting it.


Then there was this meeting, this briefly. Hell was breaking loose in the World of the Living, if the small hints Ukitake had dropped were any indication. That’s how it always was, it seemed to the lieutenant; chaos started small, but ran on toward utter destruction. And no one had yet even arrived! It was likely they were out working. Busy, hopefully. Yet they needed this information! What if they encountered one of these unknown threats?


All the more reason to require that each Shinigami keep up to date on their training. He bent back over, examining the lists and making good use of the time until the other seated officers could arrive.

Kuno Kuno
 

Greenie

Here in the Void
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi
#10



"I'm only making sure that those under my supervision won't end up failing as soon as they are sent out on a mission. I'd have thought being cautious was a good thing, lieutenant. And besides, they wouldn't have had needed the extra training if they'd kept their insubordination silent."

With that said, Hinata stepped forward from where she had paused just inside the meeting room. Her dark eyes immediately took in the sight of the food. Of course. It was a very rare occurrence to see Lt Omaeda without food wrapped in his large hands which munching on something in the meantime. It always amazed her than with his size and general habits that in rank he was right below the captain. Just like with Yoruichi Shihouin, the fifth seat knew very well that he had to be in his position for a reason. She just wished he'd act more like someone in his position would.

Well at least he was here, certainly having beaten her to the chase. His shunpo was one of the rare things about the lieutenant that Hinata acknowledged and even admired, though she'd probably never say it out loud. Seeing he was pretty much the opposite of her, she expected he was as annoyed by her as she was by him. Fortunately or unfortunately, while he could easily speak openly what he thought of her, the same couldn't be said for her.

"Needless to say," she continued, "I let them off the hook seeing we have more important things to worry about." Sighing softly, she took one of the rice cakes off of the plate and taking a bite, ignoring the indignant yelp from Omaeda. She figured if there was so much food here, it was there for the taking. As much as the fifth seat felt there was better things to preoccupy the mind with than food, the hidden orphan that still lingered in the depths of her being thought otherwise.

It wasn't long before the eight and seventh seat arrived; Hinata recognized one as Rin and the other as Utakata. They were both quiet the opposite pair; while Rin was a tall and thin woman with long blond hair, Utakata was on the shorter side for men, and he was stout to boot. Despite their differences, the two worked well as partners and were often seen together even when off work.

"Any theories?" Rin asked immediately, giving the lieutenant a curious look. "Sounds really serious- can you imagine being stuck in the World of the Living?"

"Hrmm," was Omaeda's reply as he swallowed his food. "Whatever if is, the Captain and I'll be able to take care of it!" He gave all those present a rather toothy smile- one glance was enough to show Hinata it didn't garner the confidence he had hoped.

"The Captain should be here soon," she finally added from her own self. "I personally think it may be best to refrain from guessing for the time being."
 

Kuno

Django Jane
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine doing both. However, while I am ok with being the passive player, it would be nice if the aggressive player took suggestions from me every once in a while.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Sci fi, Romance, Historical, Modern, Supernatural
Genre You DON'T Like
School life
#11
Sumiko Sado


The din of Seireitei’s streets caught Sumiko off-guard when she arrived. She was used to the hustle and bustle of day, but not of the night. The frenzied activity upon which the people around her went about their business was...unusual, to say the least. She could only wonder if they’d heard something she hadn’t. If so, that wasn’t really her problem, was it? She could only go off the message she’d received, not word of mouth. Satisfied with her own lazy reasoning, Sumiko threaded her way through the crowd, moving steadily in the direction of Squad 13’s barracks. She paused when she reached the gates, her eyes peering around in the darkness.

In stark contrast to the other areas, the main grounds for Squad 13 were conspicuously quiet. The lack of Shinigami in sight sent alarm bells ringing in her mind. Where was everyone? Surely not all the squad members had been called for a meeting, had they? A meeting like that would mean an emergency on an unprecedented scale. Concern rising in her, her steps quickened with urgency towards the administrative building, where the offices lay.

Ideally, she was searching for anyone. In actuality, her eyes were seeking out the familiar forms of the other seated officers--or even better, their captain. The hulking slob that called himself their lieutenant was not an easy figure to miss, and Sumiko decided to head to his office first. Her feet were silent on the tatami flooring. So silent, in fact, that when the 3rd seat finally came upon Jiung-See, he did not even notice. He sat hunched at his desk, working; his exhaustion was almost palpable, his eyes worn and drooping as they sifted through paper after paper. Some of those papers were no doubt her load as well. A familiar guilt pricked at her sides; she tried in vain to tamp it down, knowing it would get her nowhere. A little bullying, however...

“My, what do we have here? A toad hard at work!”

Tawny eyes jerked up to level with her own. At the sight of her frame hanging against the entryway, the tension in Jiung-See’s body eased. Sumiko pretended not to notice.

“I came all this way because I was told something important was going on, but I don’t see anyone important at all.” The teasing lilt to her voice was at odds with the haughty expression on her face.

Jiung-See was either too tired, too stressed, or both to entertain her jesting. His hands came to rest on his desk heavily as he squared his shoulders toward her. “Sumiko! Where have you been? I sent Sasuke to find you.”

“I know,” She replied shortly. As Jiung-See rambled some more nagging inanities at her, Sumiko set the food basket on her shoulder down on the floor. Knowing Jiung-See, he probably hadn’t eaten all day. While she would never admit to it, she tended to prepare extra food every day just in case a situation like that presented itself. Rummaging around in the basket, she finally straightened with a bundle of packed meals in her palms, her expression deadpan as Jiung-See stopped mid-sentence in whatever he’d been whining about.

Here.” Her arm drew back and launched the wrapped food at Jiung-See, aiming straight for his face. She spoke with each item she threw at him.

“I made rice cakes.” Whump! “And steamed buns.” Whump!

The neatly wrapped items of food bounced off the lieutenant’s shoulder and chest, falling somewhere into the depths of his robes. The last one he caught, and Sumiko appeared disappointed at the fact that none of them had hit him in the face.

“Come now, don’t let them go to waste. Eat your heart out, dearest,” The 3rd seat drawled sarcastically. The term of endearment was tongue-in-cheek. Some time ago, 7th seat squad member Gojou had once commented that the constant battle of wits between Jiung-See and Sumiko reminded him of an old married couple. It ruffled Jiung-See’s feathers horribly. Sumiko, on the other hand, was immensely amused by it. Smiling coyly, she approached the now uncomfortable Lieutenant and propped herself up against his desk, looking down at her fingertips.

“So, what’s this all about?” She asked airily. She turned her hands over, examining the red finish on her fingernails. “Where is everyone, anyways?”

 

Krag_Jorgensen

Working Title
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A little on the aggressive side.
Favorite Genres
Scifi (Firefly, Traveller, 40k),
Cyberpunk (Shadowrun),
Urban Fantasy (WoD, Scion),
Medieval Fantasy,
Modern,
Historical
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi,
High School (Do not have fond memories),
#12
"I'll catch you three later. Saburo is right, I've got business with the captain." Sydney said as she smiled at the three of them, despite their disheveled appearance and mannerisms, if it wasn't for them she would never have met her husband. She strode through the barracks deftly avoiding or shoving her way through to the Captain. Many of the other seated officers were waiting for her. She followed the captain, joining the assembled group of ranking officers, or at least the ones that were lucid enough to participate. The captain whipped most of them into a presentable enough bunch.

Her eyes wandered to the 7th seat, Tajomaru, who had been forced to actually wear the top part of his robes. The wiry man radiated unkempt indolence, with his messy topknot and patchy, uneven facial hair. He scratched at the scruff under his chin nervously. He hailed from the rougher areas in the Sabitsura district, and she had known him from before her time as shinigami. He and several other 11th division members would come out to drink and party in her neighborhood when not on duty. They had actually beaten each other up on the night they met. Still, despite his appearance, he was a solid, if somewhat reckless, fighter.

In front of her was the 4th seat Unosuke. He moved calmly and smoothly with his arms crossed in front of himself inside his robe. This left his empty sleeves flapping at his side. The officer unnerved many, including Sydney with his unconventional mannerisms. One of the things that put her off the man was the fact that she and others almost never saw him blink. The man was a Hoho and Zanjutsu expert specializing in decisive, single strikes. There were very few shinigami in the Division who could take more than a few of his hits. In her sparring matches with him Sydney struggled to keep up with his speed. He had washed out of the 2nd division long ago.

"Sorry I'm late, family business to take care of." Sydney said before asking, "Now, what's going on?"
 
Last edited:

Shizuochan

he hears his master's voice
DONATING MEMBER
Undiscombothrottled Shige
Posting Speed
One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
#13
“Now, now. Let’s be fair,” Yuki gently chided, a very real grimace turning into an exaggerated look of anguish, “If weird is anything not-normal, then two younglings wandering the dark is very much ‘weird’ as well. Which… I suppose makes Rincho both weird and gross, in your estimation…”

Yuki offered the red-haired child as strong an apology as he could through facial expression alone, a sad little cringe that unleveled the eyes and slanted the mouth. That hadn’t come off right, exactly, which he acknowledged as a sort of recurring theme when it came to his various doings. Why he of all people had decided to offer ‘advice’ was beyond him -- leading the Rukongai youth astray, one by one, seemed a calling he’d be all too capable of rising to, entirely by accident. And Rincho, that little boy and the trembling glaze of his eyes -- something was scaring him, and it wasn’t just the impetuous girl that kept him company.

“Old man Mofuji who smells of tataki and fruity sake knows all the timings, and spots, and shortcuts and dead-ends to steer clear of.” He pressed on, gesticulating in general directions and points, “Eh, what else? If you two are walking together, learn to match the cadence of your steps; a patrolman can overlook one step like it’s nothing, but two? That’s a crowd, and that’s trouble… and finally:-”

He looked past the girl with the impatient eyes, and towards Rincho, who was staring at some unfathomable elsewheres with skittish freneticism, “... and finally, finally: just stay inside. The dark is overrated, you know…” Yuki ignored the girl’s silent protests, once again drawn by the boy’s eyes, “... so who is this Doorman, anyhow?”


  
“Questions?”

“A thousand apologies, Captain Kuchiki! Curse my useless soul with boiling, and burning, sawing, waist-cutting, flogging - sixty strokes! One hundred strokes - castration, or tickle torture! I am so sorry I am late; I really cannot be trusted with anything, o’ irresponsible egg that I am.”

The Third Seat burst in, to the general bemusement of the other Seated Officers -- Kanki and Ousen, fourth and fifth seat, rival aspirants who regarded him with nothing but sheer disdain, and Lieutenant Kawakami, who eyed him with a certain disappointed concern. He panted heavy, somewhat keen on salvaging his ‘worthless self’.

“Maps! Those are maps! I may be little more than a liability in many a thing, but journeying through places mapped and unmapped alike is something I am slightly adequate in, as you know!”
 
Last edited:

Nemopedia

Storms lie. A breeze it becomes. A breath it ends.
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
The blubbing encyclopedia
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
GMT +1/2 | CET/CEST | Random, mostly on my phone
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both, depending how much there is going on already.
Favorite Genres
Tragedy, Psychological, Historical, Steampunk, Mystery, Thriller, Sci-fi, see tag list for more...
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance
#14
Libre Baskerville; Open Sans;
Mai Himura
Art by: Aoi Oata
“Captain Miyamoto,” falling down to her knees Mai offered up the half-written reports she had noted down from her last expedition, bowing her head lowly before straightening up. After showing the needed courtesies she started, opening her book of notes as she set it in front of her. She had to tell everything and so she did after a deep breath.

“The trip was most fascinating, but terrifying for the implications it may carry,” Mai started, eyes sharp as she recalled the events from just moments before.

“I saw a hollow disintegrate into nothing right in front of me.”

That was the start of her retelling before she recounted the sight she had witnessed. How the night had been silent, how the hollow’s mask broke and revealed all the souls that had merged, how they disappeared into the night without her being able to do anything.

“A simple gillian, it shouldn’t have had any thoughts of its own.” Reaching the end of her story Mai’s eyes had turned sharper, as if trying to look far away for an answer she didn’t know. “It acted against its nature, almost as if it wants to be found by a soul reaper,” with that she looked up at the captain, face scrunched up in worry. She tried hard to maintain her posture, though deep inside she wished to jump up and go out again, find out more on what happened. That wasn't her job, however.

“Right after the hell butterfly came to me, I assume my summoning has to do with this queer situation?”

Inside of her mind she calmed down, mentally readying herself for what was going to be a long night.
 

SkittlesAndSpike

Spekkun, denizen of Greenie's Pocket
COMMUNITY DEPARTMENT
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
#15
"Ah, Taibin. Glad to see you're awake." Setsuko stopped and turned to acknowledge the Shinigami's presence, an amused look on her face. Admittedly, she would not have stopped to awaken the man if he was still asleep, as evidenced by her rush to get to the briefing room. But that wasn't one of her duties. If anything, as the Third Seat for the Ninth Division he should have been making sure that she was on her way to the meeting.

"The only one that will make you look bad is yourself. Maybe you should be more proactive and drink less. Getting up would be a lot easier." She told him, continuing her brisk pace from before. She held no disdain for the man, at least not any more than she did for anyone else, but he did make it a little difficult to truly respect him. To her, he seemed lazy, especially in the way he tended to spend the day drinking. She'd once held the fear that he'd be a bad influence on the rest of the squad, but that fear was silly and gone now, at least for the most part. Taibin was the Third Seat for a reason, even if she didn't see the reason herself.

"Ah, come on Setsuko. Don't start telling me how to live my life." The third seat sighed in exasperation as he followed behind her, pacing himself so that he didn't aggravate his headache. "That's what family is for. I'm your superior anyway. Don't you think you should treat me a little better? It could open doors for you, you know."

"I think that doors will open for me, regardless," Setsuko responded, her lips curling into a slight smirk, "I am the 4th seat after all. Give it awhile and I'm sure the Captain will swap our seats." She teased as she stopped in front of the briefing room doors. "But don't worry, we've arrived at the same time, so this won't affect your seating." She remarked as she opened the door to the room and stepped inside, bowing her head as she greeted the Shinigami who were already sitting in the room.

Taibin grumbled, shaking his head at Setsuko, though he found her words funny. "Ha...yeah right." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and then wincing due to the sudden sharp pain he felt. "Perhaps I should drink a little less during the day...eh." He shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly before stepping into the briefing room and announced his presence. "I'm here!"​
 

Red Thunder

A Warrior in a Garden
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both/Either
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, SciFi, Modern, Magical
#16
The Gotei 13

Second Division

She was late. For all the grief she heaped generously upon Ōmaeda, Yoruichi Shihouin was late to her own meeting.

High within a tree, the Second Captain crouched on a sturdy branch, safely concealed behind a wall of branches. Her shining eyes peered out, observing an odd figure below her. An arch sat lazily across the path, a kind of gate from one nowhere to another. The figure stood just outside the thick shadow line it cast, arms crossed in a posture of power. Not just a posture: the reiatsu coming from them was spectacular, easily at the average captain’s level. To see such a person in the Rukongai was an oddity at all, but given the time of night and the way they seemed to be awaiting someone or something, their presence was all the more suspicious.

But it didn’t seem like anyone was going to arrive anytime soon, and Shihouin had responsibility to her Division. Making note of the location, she Flash Stepped away, silent as a oath.

At the briefing room, a wiry haired old woman sniffed at Hinata’s remark.

“Refrain, if you must. Assumption makes an ass of you and me, it’s true, but anticipation has saved time and lives. Nothing wrong with theories, if you don’t marry the idea.”

Fuka, Third Seat below Ōmaeda, sat to one side of the room, near enough to the banquet table to hear the referenced conversation. In one hand was a bottle of sake, only recently opened. She shook it for emphasis.

“My gut tells me that there’s something going on with the poor folk. You watch. The beggars know before anyone.”

“Not this time, they don’t.” The smooth voice of the captain answered Fuka’s guess with confidence. Fuka shrugged in reply, mouthing worth a shot. Shihouin ignored her, instead issuing orders. It was perhaps expected for unusual circumstances, and not unexpected: security was to be tightened in all areas, patrols were to be conducted, and strict enforcement of the law was expected. Finally, she turned to Hinata.

“Fifth Seat! I need you to head to the Rukongai with a squad of four. Go to the Red Gate and patrol the area tightly. There’s someone lingering around with Captain level reiatsu. Looks like he wants to meet with someone, and I don’t want that to happen without knowing why. If they’ve already met, find who met them and why. I’m a bit faster, so I’ll head there ahead of you.

“Second Division, make me proud. Move!”

Her orders issued, she turned and disappeared as suddenly as she’d arrived. The Division scrambled, Ōmaeda shoving as much food in his mouth as he could manage before turning to his own duties. Not a few of the lower seats looked at Hinata, curious as to whether they’d be chosen.

Greenie Greenie


~


Thirteenth Division

“I haven’t a clue,” Jiung-See replies wearily, gesturing at Sumiko vaguely for sitting on his desk before giving up any but the faintest complaints. “Far as I know, you’re the first one here, though they could have gathered in the briefing room for all I know.”

“They have.”

Captain Ukitake’s voice chimed in from the doorway, it having been preceded by a small polite knock on the frame. He looked tired, as usual, and his eyes drooped in spite of the gentle smile he wore. Even the cascade of white locks of hair that hung loosely around his shoulders seemed to fall limply. In addition to the illness, there seemed to be some additional stress as well. Looking past Sumiko, he looked to Jiung-See.

“Lieutenant, please go ahead of me to the briefing. I’ll be there shortly. Sumiko, please stay.”

Jiung-See nodded slowly and rose, the action seeming a struggle for the man. Gathering a small stack of papers from among countless such stacks, he pushed past the other two with muttered apologies and exited the office. As soon as he did, Ukitake presented Sumiko a piece of parchment. On its face was in detail a map of the Rukongai, with several locations bearing dots of yellow ink. In one location was a red X, placed so as to be almost central to all the others.

“My apologies, Sumiko, but I’ve a special assignment for you.” He paused to clear his throat and pointed at the yellow and red inks. “I’ve intelligence that Steel Horn, a Hollow that we’ve been hunting for some time, will appear in the World of the Living very soon, in the human city of Edo. The red denotes the most likely place; the yellow are secondary locations. Go hunt him down and cleanse him.”

He proffered her the paper, his expression turning grim.

“Be mindful. I don’t think we’re the only ones that hunt Hollows. If it’s safe, try to make contact with anyone who tries to destroy Steel Horn. We need to speak with them.”

Kuno Kuno


~


Eleventh Division

In answer to Sydney’s question, Unosuke sucked on his teeth in thought. Finally, he shrugged, never losing eye contact with the Fifth Seat.

“Somebody needs their ass kicked,” he replied simply, as if stating the obvious. There were murmurs of agreement from seats Six through Ten. Ranma, Ninth Seat, took what he thought was a surreptitious swing of his flask. Clearly already well on his way to intoxication, the tall man wiped his mouth before opening it to add his own take on the matter.

A clearing of the throat from the front of the room shut him up before he’d had a chance to make a further fool of himself. Captain Kenpachi stood before them, a picture of stern military leadership, still lacking his Zanpakuto yet emanating a dangerous air. His hands rested within his sash, thumbs out, as he considered the suddenly silent room.

“Eleventh Division. Something is killing Hollows before they can be cleansed. Thirteenth is rallying to flood the human country of Japan with Shinigami in order to cleanse as many Hollows as they can before they can be picked off; we’re going to back them up. You will each be assigned a partner from the Thirteenth; assignments are posted on the announcement board on the front door. For those of you who can’t read, find someone who can.” Jinchiro examined them carefully. “Their job is to handle the Hollows; your job is to subdue whatever is killing them. Meet up with your partners before you leave for the World of the Living!

“Now! Get to it! And be safe.”

Shinigami scrambled with the dismissal, most eager to find out with whom they’d be paired. While the Eleventh certainly held most other Divisions in contempt, there was a certain grudging respect they carried for the Thirteenth, and more than one fight had been lost to them. Sydney, should she scramble for the list as well, would find that her partner is Sumiko Sado, Third Seat.

@krag


~


Sixth Division

The girl, Feira, seemed pensive at his forthcoming advice, though indeed the impatient and slightly cynical air she’d been carrying never actually left. In fact, by the tilt of her head and canted posture, it seemed almost as though she thought she was humoring him, though the poorly attempted subtlety with which she was trying to keep Yuki in her line of sight spoke to other things. At least, until he came again to the Doorman.

“It’s kid stuff, old man! Nightmares! Who cares? You’re too old for that stuff anyway.”

“It’s not,” Rincho insisted, still quiet and meek. “Night- it’s not- He’s real; I’ve seen him. I- He takes us, ya know? Street kids. The stronger ones. Leads ‘em through that door of his. It-”

Feira slugged the boy’s arm, and Rincho cried out in reply. She rolled her eyes, though her voice shook.

“That’s stupid. You’re stupid. Those kids got picked up for thievin’ by Shin-“ The full weight of cynicism her demeanor had carried prior to Yuki’s advice returned, and it brought with it narrowed eyes and tense muscles. She turned, grabbing her companion by his arm before leading him away. Her mouth was closed, and when Rincho squeaked out a Sorry, Mister, she slugged him again. Soon they stepped around a tight corner and were gone.

When Yuki arrived at Sixth Division’s briefing, lamenting his uselessness and extolling his limited capability in journeying, the captain grinned.

“Oi! Fumeisha! You’re just in time!” She presented a single sheet of parchment, the last remaining; the other officers had already taken assignments, having pointedly avoided the one Kuchiki now held. “We’re looking for rogue, wounded, or lost Shinigami in the Living World, anywhere they might be found. You’re assignment is in Edo. Have fun.”

The cheerful bemusement in her greeting disappeared with this last, replaced by an edge along a steely gaze. Kuchiki expected promptness, and handed out the worst assignments to those that committed that violation. And this was the worst: as reported by Third Division, Edo had been up to recently a hotbed of Hollow activity thanks to the political fluctuations among the humans, and most of the Shinigami casualties had been there. And with each located casualties came a mountain of paperwork. Kuchiki hopped up from her desk, suddenly smiling again.

“Dismissed! Be safe.”

Shizuochan Shizuochan


~


Third Division

As Mai gave a synopsis of the strange event she’d been witness to, Captain Miyamoto scanned the reports briefly. After she finished, he took a moment longer to complete his read through before setting the report down. Her question still hung in the air, both unanswered and yet not ignored.

“Not for nothing were you promoted to Fourth Seat. Yes, your presence here is in direct response to both this event and others before it.” Aiji paused, gray eyes examining her pale face. When he spoke again, the edge of formality his voice normally carried had softened to small degrees. “For all the shock it may have caused you, seeing those souls in torment, I’m glad you were witness to it. Though they are tortured, as yet unredeemed souls, Hollows are still as deserving of existence as Wholes. Your incident is not unique, Officer Himura, though it is certainly troubling to hear that someone is strong enough to take down a Gillian in a single attack; mindless beasts though they are, I don’t need to tell you how stubborn they can be in their cleansing.”

He turned his gaze from her to a stack of papers on his desk. Shuffling through them briefly, he extracted a particular one bearing written instructions and stamped with the Third Division Captain’s seal. Aiji presented it to Mai without further ceremony.

“But I’ve Lieutenant Homuji assigned to the World of the Living as of now to determine what it is that is destroying Hollows. Or I will, come our briefing shortly. You, I need to head to the Rukon District. There have been reports of sudden appearances of Wholes within the Rukongai that were not cleansed by a Shinigami.”

On the paper were further instructions, naming specifically a half mile radius about the Red Gate as where the concentration of Souls were seen, as well as the usual reminders of Third Divisions “observe only” protocol. Once Mai accepts the parchment, Aiji nods his head in a bow.

“Speed well, and return when you have determined what is going on.”

Nemopedia Nemopedia


~


Ninth Division

“It’s about time, Taibin. The higher seats are expected to be an example for others. You should have been earlier, even if you only got off shift a few hours ago. Don’t let s few beers slow you down.”

From the head of the room, the lanky figure of the lieutenant stood with arms crossed, wearing a blasé expression. The captain’s desk sat beside him, strangely empty of any occupant. The rest of the seated officers were already present; only Taibin and Setsuko had been missing. Taibin, still bleary, accepted the critique with a vague nod and sat down at his seat.

Around the room, officers muttered quietly, the silence born of the latecomers’ arrival disappearing in the wake of rumor. Lieutenant Hisagi shifted uncomfortably, his jaw working in obvious attempt to regain whatever thread of conversation had been interrupted. Taibin scanned the room, feeling not a little left out but unwilling to simply wait for someone to mention it.

“So where’s the captain, eh? Don’t tell me that the Old Man orders Division officer meetings, and Captain Legawa can’t even show up?” He shook his head, lounging back in his chair before shooting Setsuko a look. “He wouldn’t miss the chance to chew me out for being tardy.”

“He’s gone, Taibin, and I don’t know where to.” Shūhei Hisagi reaches down, grabbing a note that lay on the desk. “He left a message before he went- wherever. ‘Hisagi, I’m afraid there’s been a breach into the Soul Society of significant power, and I can’t stick around for the Commander’s ordered meeting. You are aware of course that on very rare occasion Hollows have been known to be able to enter the Soul Society, particularly in the Rukongai. I can’t say that this is what it is, but I fear it. Hold your ground, Hisagi; the Seireitei’s protection comes before any life, including mine; when I return, it’ll be of my own accord.’

“The rest is detail about upping security around the walls.”

“That’s no good, Lieutenant.” Funiji, the Seventh Seat, raised a hand to get Hisagi’s attention. “Captain wouldn’t not want backup.”

“Whether he does or not, we’re sending it. I have to remain to manage you lot, and Taibin only finished shift a little bit ago. And smells of booze besides. I’m afraid that leaves Setsuko.” Hisagi dropped the page back onto the desk and leaned against it, regret and apology in his face as he turned to Setsuko. “Officer Hayashi, I need you to head to the Rukon District and back up the captain. You may run into a few other Shinigami of other Divisions; maybe they’ll know where he is. And I’m sorry, but you’ll need to go now. Meanwhile, we’ll hold down the fort.”

SkittlesAndSpike SkittlesAndSpike


~


Shinji

The meat stands. Or maybe the graveyard. In the Rukongai, of course. I’d check those places first.

Captain Kyōraku’s words guided the Twelfth Division’s Fifth Seat’s steps, as did the weight of his purpose. ‘Missing’, he’d said. Shinji gripped his Zanpakuto a little tighter and ran a little harder. In vain, he kept trying to assure himself that it was nothing, that Lieutenant Tachibana was simply late, that she’d stopped to help some little old lady across the street or something. That was ridiculous. Even without really knowing her as well as someone within her division might, it was still very plain that Minori should have been at her division’s briefing promptly.

Sandaled feet making muffled whumps against the cobblestones, Shinji shifted tightly around a corner, finding his way to the marble pillared cemetery. He pulled up quickly, stopping just within the grounds to take a quick look at his surroundings. A breeze pulled at the grass that pushed up through the cracks between stones and the flowers that decorated the shrines and memorials to the dead, as it trying vainly to rip the flora from where it’d been secured before. There was a disquiet on the cemetery, unnatural and unusual, a deeper disquiet than one experiences normally when surrounded by death. It was the disquiet of knowing that a predator is nearby, but that freezes the body, least any movement draw it from where it stalked you.

“My, but they sent a rescue party swiftly, didn’t they?” A voice like ice on a lake cracking shot down toward Shinji. Automatically, he drew his blade, shifting to a defensive position and leveling the point in the direction he’d heard the voice. A shrine of particular size stood nearby, framed in granite blooms on granite vines that wound tightly around granite aspen trees. These trees, one on each corner of the shrine, were perhaps twelve feet in height. Atop the crown of the tree nearest to Shinji sat a figure who very much did not belong. Wearing distinctly human clothes of a human Western military tradition, the man peered down curiously. Reaching a hand up, he scratched his chin. A small object dangled from a chain around his wrist; a charm of some kind that resembled a cross. He frowned, shaking his head.

“Shame about the woman, too. And to think; I was almost in time to save her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shinji felt heat mixed with chill in his chest. “And who the hell are you?”

“Ah.” The man stood, struggling for balance briefly on the stone structure before finding it and giving a small bow, hand on his chest. A sword hung from his waist, though judging by its form and the way it swung uncomfortably, it was likely more ceremonial than anything. His uniform, save where it had wrinkled from sitting, was pressed meticulously, and it bore the markings of a Dutch naval captain. “Forgive me rudeness. I am Captain de Jaager. I’ve come to warn you.”

Shinji lowered the point of his sword minutely, confusion etched into his features. De Jaager placed his hands behind his back, and his voice took a somber turn.

“The Hollows are rallying, Shinigami. They will invade soon.”
 

Greenie

Here in the Void
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi
#17



The orders were given, and Hinata was quick to oblige. Listen and obey, that was what she ground into the shinigami she trained, and that was what she held herself up to. With a quick bow in her Captain's direction, the Fifth Seat waited only for the the Captain to leave before she turned to face the Seventh and Eight seat, Utakata and Rin.

"Alright," she started. "You two are with me. Utakata, go fetch Ruko and Sima from the barracks. Rin and I will be waiting for you three in the courtyard. Make haste, we have no time to waste."

The Seventh Seat nodded and left without a further word, sensing the urgency in the matter. Hinata nodded at Rin before using her shunpo to head out to the courtyard. The eight seat followed just a few seconds after her, the look on her face a little disgruntled.

"Something the matter?" Hinata asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Except that I probably won't be able to relax tonight? No, not really." Hinata was just about to speak when Rin continued. "I know what you're going to say. I agree, but I need my rest. You need your rest. Whether you believe it or not."

"We have been given a mission," Hinata reminded her.

"I know," Rin replied. "I mean in general. When was the last time you went out to have some fun? Maybe a drink? A game of shougi? Anything?"

The Fifth seat didn't reply, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She had heard this sort of talk time and again to the point that it was more an annoyance than an actual bother... though at times she wondered if the others were right with their concerns. Thankfully she didn't need to spare any more thoughts in that regard as Utakata had returned with Ruko and Sima. After explaining the two in clear and concise words, the four head out in the direction they were ordered by the Captain.

"Don't be surprised if we meet up anyone from the other divisions," Hinata cautioned them as they neared the Red Gate. "Keep a lookout for an oddly high spiritual energy."

However, there seemed to be no one there once they arrived. Were they too late?

"What now?" Utakata asked, voice barely audible.

"For now we stay in this area," was Hinata's reply. Orders were orders after all. "I'll remain by the gate. The rest of you, spread out and search."

 
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A little on the aggressive side.
Favorite Genres
Scifi (Firefly, Traveller, 40k),
Cyberpunk (Shadowrun),
Urban Fantasy (WoD, Scion),
Medieval Fantasy,
Modern,
Historical
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi,
High School (Do not have fond memories),
#18
Sydney shoved, kicked, and generally forced her way through the crowd to the posted note. She found her name and her partner. "Sumiko." She said to herself. Her face fell slightly. She knew of the woman and had seen her at gatherings. She was pretty sure that Sumiko had attended her wedding, she remembered an obnoxiously dressed woman attending the after party at the very least. Still, she was well acquainted with the woman's penchant for flamboyance and indolence in equal measure. Sydney's face soured somewhat, but orders were orders.

"Hey Shidney, whas it shay?" Slurred Tajomaru putting a hand on her shoulder and pointing at the words on the sheet, unable to understand them. Sydney sighed inwardly. He was worse at reading than most of her kids. Still, there were plenty of members of the 11th who couldn't read or write very well. She often had to fill out their paperwork for them. It usually wasn't hard to pick out documents from the 11th, not that there were many.

"It says." Sydney scanned the posting for her subordinate's name. "Tenth seat, Sanada Takehiro." She said. The man muttered a "thanksh" before stumbling on. The woman then muscled her way through the crowd again before someone else asked them to read their partner too. As she walked, she couldn't help but wonder what else had been killing these hollows. The idea of fighting something besides hollows left her rather excited. She wondered what they looked like, were they human or something else? Most of her fighting techniques were centered around fighting hollows and human opponents. Still, she had faced plenty of unconventional hollows with strange powers or forms. She felt confident that she would be ready for anything that came her way. After all, despite her comparatively low rank, she was still the strongest swordswomen in the division (though a critic might point out that she was currently the ONLY seated woman in the division).
 

Shizuochan

he hears his master's voice
DONATING MEMBER
Undiscombothrottled Shige
Posting Speed
One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
#19
Oh, if only the Captain could have given him the punishment he truly deserved! Any one of the myriad suggestions he had posited; decapitation! Castration! But Edo? The adage was that the punishment should fit the crime, and while Yuki may have been guilty of celestial faults aplenty, this was simply excessive! Edo? Why not give the hotbed to someone more capable, like the Lieutenant? Or the Fourth Seat. Or the Fifth. Sixth, Seventh… and so on. He had frozen stiff, half-risen from his apologetic prostations, when the Captain’s tone had lost its humor, and the name ‘Edo’ brought forth memories of the Meireki Great Fire.

All those souls, crawling, struggling out from the violent bloom of the inferno, escaping through the cracks of the charred machiya wood. It had almost been too much to bear. No, it had been too much -- they just managed to bear it anyways.

He rose, without self-deprecating babble or awkward gesticulation, still.

“Yes, Captain.” He muttered under his breath, having already been dismissed.


  
Edo had changed in the… some hundreds of years he had been, and the few in whence he had held the dubious honor of scouring through its chaotic, outsized mosaic of life. He remembered the wooden machiya towers, the temples in the northeastern corner, watched over by onmyoji of dubious qualification, and the stone castles, the finer ones an almost brilliant heron-white. After the fire, the light-wood had been covered with plaster-black, the darkness of oyster shells and lime burnt. Simple, elegant, not so ostentatious.

And now, he thought, standing atop the wooden skeleton of some building quarter-built, times had changed again.

From the heights, he scoured, waiting, watching, feeling.
 

Nemopedia

Storms lie. A breeze it becomes. A breath it ends.
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
The blubbing encyclopedia
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
GMT +1/2 | CET/CEST | Random, mostly on my phone
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both, depending how much there is going on already.
Favorite Genres
Tragedy, Psychological, Historical, Steampunk, Mystery, Thriller, Sci-fi, see tag list for more...
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance
#20
Libre Baskerville; Open Sans;
Mai Himura
Art by: Aoi Oata
“There have been reports of sudden appearances of Wholes within the Rukongai that were not cleansed by a Shinigami.”

The words rang through her mind as she made her way for the Red Gate. Souls that entered the Spirit world without the help and guidance of the soul reapers. It was unheard of, terrifying even for whatever implications it may held and yet the female held a lingering hope that it were the same souls that she had been unable to help. That it was a good thing and not some emergency like the weight of the mission suggested.

Having just returned from another mission Mai was ready to depart immediately, pocketing her notebook once more before she set off into the night. Slipping through the shadows the female adjusted her presence immediately at departure, willing herself to ease into the mindset needed for the long night ahead of her.

Presence concealed, eyes sharp, and ready to step in if needed Mai landed on a roof nearby, scanning out the streets below. The Red Gate standing proud in the horizon, doing its name proud despite the swallowing darkness.

Rolling out the map Mai marked the spot she was standing in now, marking down the time as she wrote down whatever observations were to be made. There was peace now, but for how long? Half a mile didn’t sound like much with flash step at their side, but a radius brought a lot of ground to cover and there weren’t that many seated members on the job.

Jumping over to the next roof Mai rolled down on her knees for a softer landing, deciding to move towards the Red Gate to get to the center of the area. Always the responsible one when on duty the soul reaper didn’t head straight to the center, detouring to scout out other areas within the radius as she moved closer. Besides, she could feel the presence of another, though none threatening or fitting the description of the report and thus giving no reason to reveal herself or to engage.