[BSD-RP] Hueco Mundo

[BSD]

Inhaling deeply, Nicolas stopped in his tracks and knelt on the ground, his knuckles digging into the broken gravel of the throne room. He was almost out of there, and then the call of his king said otherwise. With a distressed look upon his face, Nicolas scratched at his head, gathering himself back up to his feet to trudge back towards the others. His eyes had a dull look to them, almost as if he had gone through four days without rest. Adjusting the zanpakuto on his back, Nicolas took his time in answering the call.
The force ahead of them was massive. In all honesty, he thought of his presence to be a hindrance. After all, he had finished his bout with a series of Menos and other adjuchas not too long ago. His body was still recovering, and once more, he had yet to consume anything. As he passed through the throne room, the ninth Espada eyed the leftovers from Aragon’s earlier endeavors. A primal growl escaped. Would it matter if he decided to kill them here and now for that boost in strength? Perhaps Aragon would take a chance and scold him for getting rid of the limited pieces they had.
Unsheathing his blade, the shine of the red-tinted spine gleamed in the pale moonlight. Taking the hilt of his sword into both hands, he positioned it to where it was raised far above his head, and the tip of the silver-edge pointed towards the back.
Do it. Waste them. Get them out of your sight once and for all.
Why was he hesitating? He loosened and tightened his grip, adjusting back and forth and back and forth. What was he waiting for? He could end them right here and now. His reiatsu was seeping from him, beginning at his fingers and licking up the length of his arms.
“Fuckin’-”
With clear annoyance, Nicolas stepped right outside and followed the path towards the violent aftermath of Vincent’s fight with the earlier entity. There was plenty of damage on these sandy dunes, but the fleeting extremity was long gone now. With his blade pointed to the ground, his energy had yet to retreat, but it hardly grew. As of now, it was just stewing in the pot, building as he eventually made his presence known to the king and the Primera.
“So are we gonna just stand here and pose, or are we gonna ice ‘em?”

 

[BSD]

The collision between the Vasto Lorde and the Arrancar who lauded himself as king met its violent conclusion, the former retreating into the unknown vastness of Hueco Mundo's desert. The Hollows, challenged and bullied by the other Arrancar remained battered, beaten, abused, the difference in power between the two blatantly obvious.
The distance between the pack and pride of Menos Grande was now...GONE. The sizes of each lumbering hollow, double what could have been gauged from a distance. The glow of their eyes persisted as they marched forward, doing nothing to target those beneath, showing no signs of acknowledging their presence. These..creatures, they seemed void of any manner of consciousness, thought, or sense of awareness. Ignorant of their surroundings their steps ensured the crushing and destruction of anything unfortunate enough to be found planted beneath their massive steps. Still, no prints could be found lingering behind to prove the manner of destruction.
The odd voice that seemed to drift and whisp about had vanished, its source still unknown, the body to which it belonged a mystery still. Their path set them directly through the massive castle of Los Noches. It was clear their motive, if one could even claim these massive walking husks were capable of such a thing, did not lay with anything or anyone within Los Noches, and regardless of any obstruction they would continue onward leaving only rubble in their wake.
Were these Menos Grande a mutation of some sort? Their distinct difference in appearance from those of their same ilk typically meant that the hollow had maintained some sense of individuality...but so many? Changed in appearance yet all holding the very same appearance? Were they perhaps being manipulated? It could certainly explain the reason behind their ignorance to the massive reiatsu flaring about from the Arrancar. If so then by who? That strange voice? What was its purpose, what ulterior motive did it have..did they have? If these Menos Grande however weren't being controlled, if they were conscious of both themselves and their actions then...what did it all mean?
Regardless, there was no further time for dallying or delay. The pack was here, knocking, stomping at their door step.

 

[BSD]

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

By now those under him had lined up at his side. Good, they had responded to his call immediately. Just in time too. The previous battle had come to an end and the constant flow of combat continued. This familiar feeling, one Hueco Mundo had been known for filling his very being. He was not unfettered. unafraid. All that could describe it was comfort. This was some unknown familiarity to him, to which he was coming to understand once more. The centuries he had missed were behind him at this point, the very essence of his home filling his spirit. He could feel it...he had been here before. Done this before. One fight after another. One meal to the next.
When faced with this cycle for the first time in what felt like an eternity. All Vincent could do was smile. Although his memories were lost from that time, how he felt then he could, in some way still feel now. Immediately he saw the flaw in the design of the cycle. Fighting only had value when it had an end. The endless battle was meaningless. It furthered his ideology that in time, all of this must come to an end. Still, for now he would enjoy it for what it was.
"Hehe...hehehe....hAHHA..GWWAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!"
His laugh sent chills through the desert, echoing in the minds and hearts of his subordinates. It was but a stones throw away from madness. For a time he stood there between them, laughing, the towering Menos of unknown origin were upon them now. Though he had tried to protect Las Noches, the battle had proven to be fairly destructive. Though most of the fortess still remained, many of its walls had now been further toppled. There were many questions that still needed answering, yet the desert distractions proved effective in hindering that progress.
"I want you both to enjoy this. Savor the moment. This will prove valuable to growth. You're free to act as you please from here on..
Without any further warning, Vincent's body bled from view, appearing just feet from the lumbering beasts that invaded his fortress. Within that same moment, his arm jutted outward, colliding with its mask. He was swift, making contact would spell doom to a single beast. What followed was a flash of iridescent light. Multiple colors began to swirl and rage about as spiritual energy began to engulf the mysterious entity. This was destruction, raw and pure. Vincent was unique in his ability to devour souls by destroying them. This process would last for roughly five seconds given the Menos size, though if his calculations were correct, its body would begin to assimilate into the same spiritual energy he was releasing. Before long the large entity would be assimilated into his very being. He cared little for the others who continued on around them. They were no real threat to his life, or so he assumed. Nickolas and Aragon were free to fight if they so chose it, a hollows drive was to devour freely and gain strength. However, for Vincent, this was much more than gluttonous indulgence. He was gathering information. What were they? Why were they different? What secrets remained within their bodies. Were they created? or did they occur this way naturally. All would be revealed to him upon completion of destruction. The very souls that made up these beings would be understood the moment they conjoined with his being. This ability of his was unique to him, a byproduct of his time in hell. There was still much to understand. Beyond his observations, the realms were shaken by an unquestionable occurrence. Soon enough the desert of Hueco Mundo would too be touched by these events. For now, the king and his subordinates would feast. His blade, estragons remained at rest in his left hand, prepared for the coming events, though holding no true urgency. He saw them as nothing more than a means to an end and so they were treated as such until proven otherwise. How then, would these creatures react to him and his overwhelming spiritual energy. Would they all turn on him? Would they flee or continue onward as if he didn't exist? Soon enough...he would find out.

 

[BSD]

Laughter, was what echoed out as Vincent finally got into the swing of things. Deep and long the King wailed out; "Hehe...hehehe....hAHHA..GWWAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!" This made Aragon lower himself to the ground next to his king. As his feet touched the sand, His sensory input from Vincent skyrocketed. The King was remembering indeed. He listened to him speak. "I want you both to enjoy this. Savor the moment. This will prove valuable to growth. You're free to act as you please from here on.." without a delay in his actions, the moment Vincent allowed them to act as they wished. The sand around Aragon would spiral around and above him with the waves of pressure suddenly exploding from his body. As they did the heat of his Reiatsu melted them into black structures of glass. His Sonido cracking loudly as it made a duet with the metallic shing sound his sheath made releasing his Zanpaktuo from it's crypt.
The tiny knife of a Zanpakuto held backwards and snug against his wrist was then spun with finesse around the fingers of Aragon. He eyed the Menos this was to be their fate it seemed. Twirling the knife in his hands it would shine and flicker against any light until it was gone from his hands. The sharp whistle of the blade sailing through the air could be heard by any with the ability. It was heading straight for the nearest Gillian he could see, as it traveled it continued to gain speed. With the deadly intent to pierce through one or even several of the Hollows depending on how they maneuver and their durability. Aragon himself would then focus on a cluster of two of these large beasts.
Leaping into the air with a spin his short body would throw itself to match the height of their giant masks. Aragon's hands would clap together and as they were brought apart two medium sized balls of gyrating cero would be pulled into creation. Spinning in the air until he was upside down, He would elegantly fling his arms out from his chest and send the two orbs cascading towards Hollow with deadly speed. "Genocidio Doble Cero!" If they with their large size and statue did nothing to prevent this cero from hitting. It would explode outward in a radius eclipsing each other. Making sure to fight in a area that would not interrupt their King, Aragon awaited the Meno's retaliation.
It had been decades since Aragon had a decent fight. He truly hoped these Menos would force him to use powers that needed to be stretched. A new era was upon their kind once more. These Menos were a threat to that and Aragon wouldn't let anything come between their new future and wondering the desert aimlessly again. His body crackled with pink and black electricity as he hovered in the air, an expression of boredom on his face.

 

[BSD]

Vincent’s laughter had startled him. Not because of the situation happening before them. It was something he’d expect: a reaction, but not this wild. His stance had yet to change, grasping tightly around the hilt of his blade. Vincent was the first to take charge, and Nicolas watched closely as he smashed his way through a single entity. The distance between both parties was closer now than ever.
Meanwhile, Aragon was ass-kissing the current head of the realm. Honestly, watching him kneel was just annoying, but the ninth Espada hadn’t said a word. For he was still arguing on whether or not to join the fight or to flee entirely. Like a bullet, Aragon shot out, following in the footsteps of the King and taking care of another entity with his tiny prowess using a powerful burst of his spiritual energy.
“Whatever… What is this called in the human world? ‘Hit and run’?”
Yeah. That’s what he would do. Rolling his shoulders back, Nicolas had finally gathered enough balls to take charge. The sudden influx of power that surged through his body tore away at the white jacket that covered his upper body, shredding it to pieces. Beginning at his fingertips, a deep, wine red concentrated reiatsu billowed around his fingers and grew up towards his forearms. And like his hands, his head caught alight, his energy blazing, licking at the air around his body.

He was raging, though only for a limited time. Using his time wisely, Nic joined the fray, blade twisted into an upright position, and he ran forward. Possessing no sonido, he used the rushing power to pump his legs at speeds average enough for a fraccion as he once had been. Though he stopped, just meters away from a looming beast and reared his arms back over his head, the tip of the blade pointed towards the sandy dunes as he awaited. In that instant, what he could spare in power was brought forth in a single swipe. That power that resided within burst out, tearing a path of oncoming force capable of splitting such monstrosity easily into two halves.
The power exerted cracked those curves in the sand and creating towering clouds of dust and smoke. And at that moment… He ran. Away. Strapping his blade back into its sheath, Nicolas Presagio pumped his arms and legs and fled into the darkness of where the forever moon couldn’t reach. That underlying energy that he managed to control was currently in use for a simple getaway. It was clear enough that he’d be nothing more than a one-shot as of this time. So he would hibernate for now, and come out when he was ready to play again.