the Graveyard, Rukongai
“Rallying?” Shinji narrowed his eyes at de Jaager suggestion, his composure regained. His Zanpakuto lowered, de Jaager having been assessed to be more of a frustration than a threat, though he never sheathed it. “You mean, in the Soul Society? That’s insane. Frankly, I’m more concerned with
you, and what connection you have to Lieutenant Tachibana! Your clothes definitely aren’t from around here.”
“Too true, I’m afraid. Astute observation! Well, I guess so; you’d be pretty stupid to not notice.
“I’m from the Living World, Shinigami; we call ourselves the Quincy. We are-“ De Jaager paused, his face compressing in thought. “Eh, more spiritually sensitive than your average Human, I guess. Hence my knowledge of you, and of the Hollows. And hence my presence here.”
“‘Hence’? That explains nothing! All you’ve done is raise more questions! But most important of any question, where is the lieutenant? Frankly I don’t care about anything else at this point.”
“Easy enough.”
Crouching, de Jaager leaned forward, falling off his stone perch to land ignobly on the grass before Shinji. He held out a hand, palm open downward. About him, in perhaps a two foot radius, strands of what seemed to be ribbons twisted out from nothing and ended within his grasp, as if each presented themselves to him. Each ribbon was blood red, with only the subtlest difference in shade, tone, or pattern to mark them apart. Glancing from one to the next, the Quincy finally snatched one from the air. As he tugged, it went taut, and the rest faded away.
“She’s in that direction, Shinigami.” He gestured vaguely away, in the direction of the Red Gate. “Not too far, I’d say; her Thread wouldn’t be quite so distinct otherwise. And anyway, you’d better hurry if you want to keep the Captain happy. She’s liable to be someone’s meal otherwise.”
Shinji shot him a look, brows furrowed. The Captain! Was de Jaager guessing? Or did he actually know? The self identified Quincy was a hard read, being far too blasé for the circumstances. Yet Shinji had a lead on the Lieutenant, and he wasn’t going to let it pass. With a nod of thanks to his companion, he vanished in a burst of Shunpo.
the Red Gate, Rukongai
Occupied with his flight, concerned with his prize, and ignorant of the threat above him, the thief utterly failed to prepare for Himura’s attack. Her weight on his back and arms, his cheek ground into the dust that now covered the coveted meat, the thief could only groan, uttering perhaps a few choice words under his breath. A slight fellow, he looked reasonably underfed, and his ratted and worn clothing showed signs of poor, inefficient patchwork. At Himura’s admonition, he spat.
“Figures. A guy can’t try to fill a belly without gettin’ jumped by you damned blades. Geddoff me, ya damn wench!”
A block or two away, Rin, despite the rapid complaints about the workload, looked eager to engage the sound of thievery, regardless of what her superior and this new arrival intended to do. Leaving the others behind, she sprinted off, skidding around the corner just in time to witness Himura’s expert restraint.
“Woo! Nice nab!” Rin grinned, rushing over to lend a hand as the thief grumbled. She crouched down, looking intently into his eyes. “You didn’t answer the nice lady! Why’d you steal that, hm? Too proud to ask for help or something?”
The thief opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to think better of it. He closed it, obviously thoughtful, before continuing.
“It was for my mother,” he whispered. “Being in the Soul Society without getting Cleansed has left her… famished. The Doorman said she needs to eat.”
Back with Hayashi and Hinata, a reiatsu began to be evident to them. Starting small, it eased forward in strength, as if something were drawing near, or perhaps was removing restraints slowly. It soon reached Third Seat strength, with no sign of slowing its progression; it seemed to originate from several blocks behind them, opposite the direction from Himura and Rin.
Moreover, this reiatsu felt- ravenous.
@Nemopedia @Greenie @SkittlesAndSpike
the New Construction, Edo, the World of the Living
Something lingered. It was certain. A certainty. Yes, lingered, afraid, alone, frightened, buried, hidden. Behind
something.
Like the visage of death, a pale white face turned this way and that, peering into the darkness with red, luminous intent. This was no good; there were no Foods here! Nothing to consume; nothing to shove into that emptiness that consumed him.
Four legs carried the Hollow on its quest, knife-life hooves digging sharp furrows in the cobblestone path it strode. A protrusion from the end of the thing’s narrow snout traced a line through the air, as if it was by its very sharpness slicing the wind.
T̴͎̓h̴͎̦͌é̵̫̏y̴̭̐ ̶̡̾̄h̴͍̝̐́a̴̛ͅv̷̯̔e̵͎͂̕ͅ ̵͓́̈ä̴̪l̷̓ͅl̴̼̞̍̑ ̴̞͂̌ͅf̸̞͒ḻ̴̰͘è̷͚̕d̵̠̺̆.̵̠͊ ̸̭͐̉Y̷̦͔̊ĕ̷͇ś̷̳.̵͈͈̔ ̶͍̰̀͐F̸̢̀l̷̲̹͗͝e̵̡͍̊͗d̶̢͗͂.̵̲͚̇̅ ̷͙̓͠L̵̺̈é̵͖̼f̶̫̈t̵̲̐ ̷͇̾͝m̶̟͓͒ę̶̣̐ ̴̯̂͐s̵̹̐t̵̻̃͘͜a̴̢̛̘̕r̴̻͒v̶̠͖̇̒e̸̪͑d̸̪̓͘.̴̬̜̍ ̷̝̈́L̶̨̫̊e̴̞̋f̸͕̏͝t̸̢̂ ̸͍̎m̴̤̑̽ẽ̶͚̰-̴̠͐
It paused, raising its head. The horn, until now as white as its mask, began to shine an unnatural green along its edge, and slowly it turned to face Yuki upon his perch.
Ÿ̷̳̓ͅȏ̴̠u̵̥͂͂.̶̤̌̀ ̶̫̙̽̌
The corners of its mask pulled up around its mouth in a fashion it was clearly not meant to allow. The green on the horn began to pulse upward from its base to its point. In response, a shining ball of green reiatsu began forming at the point. And all the while, Steel Horn eyed Yuki hungrily.
Y̵̖͋̽o̵̦̍ư̷̲͜ ̴̖̲͝w̷̥͙͂i̸̘͒͘l̴̬̜͂͐l̴̳̓͝ ̶̬̟̎̿d̸̖̀ȏ̸̖͎̉.̷̧̈́̋ ̸͓̂̓
The reiatsu fired toward the Shinigami, a Cero blast clearly meant to end him.
@Shizuochan /
@Krag_Jorgensen @Kuno feel free to have your PCs meet up and head to the World of the Living. Steel Horn could be too much for Yuki there. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)