[BSD-RP] Hueco Mundo

[Hyouzoku]

For years upon years the appearance of the Arrancar Elliseo, was questionable. After the blatant invasion of Karakura Town, the forces of the Arrancar retreated. Not by their own will, but by the will of the so called God-King. The sole being who had orchestrated the entire event, without even full commitment from the beings he subjected. This ordeal as a whole, rubbed the soft lavender haired Arrancar the wrong way. His bloodlust not satiated, he still couldn’t forget the poor Shinigami he had within the palm of his hands. Her small but fluctuating soul, directly in the grasps of the Arrancar’s palm.

The disgusting human with the black flowing hair he annihilated wasn’t enough. He, just like the Menos he had been cultivating through sheer force and power, shared the same sentiments. In short, it was a tease. Conflicted with the intriguing direction Maximilliano was going to take the rag tag group of Arrancar. As well as continuing his loyalty to Elliora, the one who saved his life through his most desperate times. The choice while seeming very simple, became so complex within the mind of Elliseo. Countless days upon days, he spent absorbed in his own thoughts. Figuring out what did his future hold. He ignored the calamity known as Kassius coming to birth and the death of many Arrancars. He stood idle while Elliora was annihilated and reverted to a child, still conflicted with his mind. Nothing truly striking his motivation, to continue his already empty purpose within the sands of Hueco Mundo. He sat in his den, just as he is doing amidst everything that has transpired currently. Cultivating the power of his familiy, controlling the ones who had evolved after the invasion and over these years in Hueco Mundo. Their power escalating, but their intellect, smarts, and loyalty increasing as well, to their master…… Elliseo.
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-Deep Within Elliseo’s Sanctum in the Forest of Menos-


“Tch….. not again”

Taking care of these belligerent beast, was a task only for the strong and patient. Something Elliseo had to re-learn over these somber years. The lonely Arrancar stared at one of the dying Menos that lied within his makeshift sanctum. It’s body dwarfing Elliseo in size greatly, but to the Arrancar it meant absolutely nothing. In terms of power Elliseo looked the dying creature as an ant, while he stood as a god above it.

Staring directly into the broken eyes of the Menos, he couldn’t bear to witness it’s weakness much longer. It reminded him of a being, who he had loved dearly, being reduced to a mere helpless child. Through his all seeing eye, the Orcas Arrancar witnessed the events of everything that went on in his absence. The sands completely in his view, he would be in amazement at state of his former “allegiance”. Just the mere thought of it-

“DIE”

Stretching out his right hand, a destructive Cero launched from his palm. No buildup, no charging, just a quick and swift release of a Cero. Annihilating not only the ground in which the Menos laid, but nearly all of the trees in the surrounding area. The area was lit aflame by the uncharacteristic move from the Arrancar. Changing the dull grey hue the forest provided into a blazing hue, one supported by nothing but cinders. This transaction bothered Elliseo not one bit. What truly bothered him, was the weakness of his so-called savior. Although all Elliseo could see was movements and locations. The All-Seeing couldn’t read intents or minds or situations. He was confused on why Elliora even in her reduced state hadn’t come sought him out? Why did she assemble a rag-tag team full worthlessness? How did she fall so far! These revelations, along with the pent up feelings he had been storing for years on end. Finally cracked not only his psyche, but his only valued possession. The item that covered half of his tattered past and grievous
scars…. cracked.

“OOOHHHHHH“

A quake of reiatsu dispersed the flames of his own making. Expanding so greatly, that it felt too much for even himself. Was he subconsciously limiting himself all these years? Were these decades of serving Elliora, all a ploy? No matter what is was….. finally, Elliseo had been freed of his own mental shackles. His fragmented mask finally being completely revealed, along with the deadly scar that ran across the left side of his face.
It was time he acquired a purpose.

A true purpose.
​

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Elliseo’s body had already bled away from the Forest. The Arrancar knew, abandoning the Forest for a long period of time would eventually relinquish his control over MOST of the Gillian under him. But that denial of consistent sustenance they been promised over the years, would convert into blatant rage. That rage will then turn into a struggle of power, which will then lead to evolution. He would deal with the consequences to come at another time. For now his goal was to reinsert himself into the ranks of the Arrancar, and finally claim a spot amongst Maximilliano’s Espada. The perfect suitor was right on his radar. He was not going to go after weaklings, he needed the strongest available. Who else to contend, but the flowing purple maned Arrancar. Who was currently making his way to a location, seemingly leaving another Hollow and some ruins, opposite of his path. Once Elliseo, gained even the slightest visual of this fiend, he focused in on him closely. His appearance differing from the last time Elliseo had sights on him

No matter.

Whether the Vasto had evolved or not didn’t phase him. He only wanted to assert his dominance, and there was no better euphoria than the feeling Elliseo had, of being finally free. Heliodoro would notice the Arrancar’s aggressive movement from miles away, for Elliseo wanted him to know. His reiatsu swirling violently, as if he wanted the entirety of Hueco Mundo to know. Yelling his name name out in a grotesque manner as he made quakes within the sands

“HELIODOROOOO”

The moment the former Vasto even attempted to acknowledge Elliseo, he’d be met with a pinkish wave of destruction headed his path, engulfing his entire view and everything around him. Elliseo was miles away from the beast, but he didn’t mind sending a warning shot, for if he stood to take it he’d be eradicated from the face of Hueco Mundo, no trace of his existence to be found.

 

[Frog]

For all of a minute, things were good, the wrongs were now right, Helliodoro was about to find himself some new company, Elliora and a white haired Arrancar he had never met before. He was even about to initiat conversation with the two, like a normal sane creature! Unfortunately, it seems that this star is not fated to form new friendships today, first was the loud strange Hollow that disturbed Helliodoro’s silent boredom and now a new arrival, something he has seen once, but never truly paid mind to. Before he heard, saw or smelt the new disturbance, he could feel it. More specifically he could feel an approaching Cero of sorts. So unbearably slow, from within the halls of Las Noches, Helliodoro can feel the approaching beam and not for a moment is he impressed about this whole scenario. The section of Las Noches that once held Helliodoro and the other two Arrancar is decimated, leaving little rubble and a great hole to remember the corridor by. A supposed warning shot. For whom? A warning shot should strike fear, leaving the survivor aware of the looming threat of death that they face. Half, half a mile. That was all that the Cero had managed to travel before being stopped, no, eviscerated.

“HELLIOD-”

The whale Arrancar’s call is cut short as he is assaulted by a wave of bone crumpling pressure, originating from the Cero’s point of impact. Helliodoro’s hand which is now in the midst of returning to his side, after delivering an almighty backhand that shattered the very form of the column of Reiryoku, the very same motion that caused this wave of force. After the pre-emptive Cero has been put to a complete and utter stop, that supposed all-seeing eye is likely to find Helliodoro stood midair, the Star’s amber gaze entirely focused on Elliseo, his brow furrowed even more, improving upon the Vasto Lorde’s permanent scowl. He does not go to speak, instead he watches the Arrancar momentarily, inspecting the being before him, he can feel the possible strength of the Arrancar but that is not what has garnered his attention, not at all.

“Have I seen you before? Feel like I’ve seen you before…” For a moment, he is lost in thought, trying to recall what little his semi-functional brain can possibly remember. “Y’know what, nevermind, you caught me at a good time, skedaddle on the fuck’ outta here and I’ll let you live for another hour or so.”

As he speaks out loud, his voice carries exceptionally well, he is truly a loud individual himself. Everything he says is honest at this moment in spite of the clear contradiction of the expression he wears on his face. Once he has finished speaking, he begins to make his way towards Elliseo, each step carrying a certain calm with it, until there isn’t. After a few steps forward, Helliodoro vanishes in a blitz of motion that places him right before Elliseo, a hand already out stretched and lunging to grasp Elliseo by the head.

Clearly Helliodoro’s intentions had changed without warning. Without delay, that hand clamps down upon Elliseo’s head, and with that, his fingers dig into bone and flesh alike, shattering both bone and Hierro under the titanic strength of the Star. Not only would the Star's deathly grasp crush the skull, but it would take with it the front half of Elliseo's brain as though his darkened digits were simply scooping through pudding. Previously these hands stole the life of an Arrancar who prided themselves on their Hierro, these same hands were the ones that forced the Godking to take a Hollow seriously, if only for a moment. Would this Arrancar test his luck and attempt an escape or would he face his new fate as a lifeless husk, held up by the scraps of flesh between Helliodoro's fingers.

 

[Hyouzoku]

Not once over these past hundred years, has Elliseo’s bloodlust been satiated. Heliodoro, who was once, one of the most deadly Vasto Lordes to ever touch the sands. Had evolved into his pinnacle form, an Arrancar. Elliseo felt the change, never knew the results or what truly sparked his evolution. From Elliseo’s view, it felt like this being was a Vasto for a millenia. Did Max’s appearance finally allow for Hollows to break the mold? Elliseo wondered in the back of his mind as he yelled the Arrancar’s named with vigorous force.

“HELLIOD-”

Elliseo noticed the sudden jerk Heliodoro’s movements. Before he could even finish his yell he was interrupted by a wave of force so undeniable, it extinguished the Cero he launched mid-way through it’s travels. Heliodoro then reached back, returning his hand to his side as if his sudden hand gesture was the cause of this Cero’s annihilation. Elliseo knew exactly what type of fight he was getting into, but still it wouldn’t be fair to the former Vasto if he didn’t acknowledge his ridiculous strength in some way. As Elliseo finally reached Helliodoro’s immediate area, he came to a sudden stop. The tsunami of sand that covered his trail, coming to a complete rest as well.

“You truly are a monster, I’m not surprised in the slightest”

Elliseo’s face had nothing but a disgusting smile on it. Even through his one eye that was partially blinded, he could see his adversary clearly. Inspecting his brand new form, as he had never seen it up close before.

“Magnificent”

The soft-lavender haired Arrancar could tell from Helliodoro’s deranged look. He didn’t know who the hell he was. It made sense though. Elliseo always running, always being in the shadows of despair. Reluctant to kill back in the days. Completely opposite of Heliodoro, who as a Vasto Lordes, held an iron grip upon the outskirts of the sands. Preying on the weak to further seek evolution. Or rather that was Elliseo’s perception, being one of those weaklings.

“Have I seen you before? Feel like I’ve seen you before…”


“No…. you’ve never seen me before an-“

“Y’know what, nevermind, you caught me at a good time, skedaddle on the fuck’ outta here and I’ll let you live for another hour or so.”

Elliseo almost let out a small chuckle. He was going to reassure this arrogant being, that he was not going to leave without a fight. Elliseo watched as the long flowing mane of Helliodoro shake back and forth as he made his slow stroll towards him. The Orcas Arrancar was under the assumption that from his words, he was going to go on about his business. Not trying to be bothered by another Arrancar trying to contest his strength, but his movements as he began to speed up differed entirely. What this Arrancar failed to realize was, Elliseo was the “All-Seeing” for a reason. The entirety of Hueco Mundo, or whatever dimension he lies within. Is under his watchful eye. Every movement, every direction, all intents were seen. His innate ability El Grito De La Sirena (サイレンの叫び ; Lit. Siren's Bellow ) allowed him to perform such a feat. Sadly the “Star” was going to find out his his absolute overwhelming speed, was not going to save him from “divine” precognitive forces.

Before Helliodoro even attemped to dash towards the Arrancar with his unrealistic speed. Elliseo’s Sonido carried him to the left of Heliodoro just only several feet away. His back turned towards the former Vasto, but his right finger pointed behind him. Crossing his right arm around his torso just to point towards the Arrancar. The Star would sense a small buildup of reiryoku for a mere millisecond, before noticing a change. Hellidoro would notice as soon as Elliseo reappeared from his Sonido, his arm would start to feel a searing sensation. As if he was placing his arm on some sort of hot surface. All the while if he looked down, he would see his left arm detached all the way from it’s forearm. Plopping onto the sands of Hueco Mundo, the wound created from the base of his forearm would then begin to crackle, and then explode violently incinerating the arm he lost, all the while blasting Heliodoro back miles away from original location. Ginormous waves of sand, being sent away along with the purple haired Arrancar, several miles back. With Elliseo’s hair flowing forwards from the explosion that took place behind of him he’d mutter to himself.

“Cero Orcas”

​

 

[ShusukeKiyoshi]

“Foolish wench…” He uttered within his mind. Her lack of discipline was on display, and her perception of what had transpired could not have been anymore incorrect. The adapter, a talented blades-woman in her own right, marvelously partook in the budding sword fight with swift and deadly precision, leaving little quarter. Abraam however is just as astute a arms man, a quick learner and albeit somewhat of an adapter himself. A natural born chameleon, bred to survive in any rigorous and dreadful environment. In his long years as an arrancar, he has spent many honing his physical skills such as his speed. Coupled with the precision and knowledge of the soul, he seemingly would have a leg up in a situation where it were to come down to speed. Evidently, the double parry was successful, but once the cero had been redirected and fired towards the wading guppy within the room, charged energy could be felt in close proximity. Taking note of her discolored eyes, it was easy to clock which one had been the favored retina. It would’ve been too late for the halberd wielding whore as she failed to notice that Abraam had already struck her.

With the balas charged, Abraam had already moved to another location once contact was made with the whitened bar. What Emilia was visualizing and taking keen aim at, was merely an afterimage. A masterful impromptu image of himself to distract Emilia from the other bodies that would soon converge on her shortly. Her Balas all hit its mark, his skull but would just as quickly phase through the air, fully now allowing for his initial body to dissipate as the other clones of the bloodthirsty Lagarto took to their places and got into their spots. A swift counter would be highly unlikely from the angles of where the attacks had been placed, having to not only turn to take on the first strike, but to also parry the following three that remained from the other blidspots Abraam carefully picked this course of attack to not only confound but overwhelm the natural senses including the spiritual ones to fully blend in with the environment around him, Although Emilia's Reiatusu was flexed, and as much as she assumed that she was the aggressor in this battle, she was terribly mistaken. While hers was only flexed to combat the effects of Abraam’s own reiatsu. He had full control over the room itself, with her avatars of elements fully petrified and unusable, with the exception of the little pond her pet fish crawled out from. With all the sound and vibration being mummified it would only be a matter of time before she not only tires, but perishes under the situational circumstances.

After thinking to have struck Abraam’s body, she would have lost the leverage she thought she had maintained while his presence was still felt to be upon the weapon. Assuming she lacked the reactionary discipline or skill in general she would have been most severely dismembered from the neck down, chopped into uneven, large meaty pieces cut cleanly by none other than the lizard-tongued butcher. The enhanced effect of the bala would have increased its cutting power and swiftness as it sailed across the alabaster body of the magenta headed mistress. There would have been no mistaking its power or intent. For ABraam, this was an unusual bloodlust, a hunger in which he himself had buried deep down for the betterment of his overarching goals. But it would appear that brute force cannot be avoided, especially within this era of Arrancar. His power was growing with every passing second of battle, and ever so slightly, the chameleon's uncomfortable yellow eyes sharpened with demonic intention.

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[TaySMR]

The beginning of the end


Every game of tag eventually has to come to an end. Helliodoro would ensure that this reality was cemented within the Vasto Lorde’s mind. Oddly enough, the child-like monster hadn’t allowed himself to continue the fight. His plan of action fell flat, because, for the briefest of moments, he was concerned for the safety of the Espada that he was playing with. In his mind, he sees himself giving Helliodoro a mortal wound if he enacts his next plan of action. Little did he know that just like him, the Espada was once a Vasto Lorde. It was unlikely that he understood this by any means. His ignorance knows no end—even when concerning his own abilities. They simply act on their own, but they do so in a way that continues to benefit him.

The two were similar. They simply viewed things differently, but their goals overall were similar. Guillermo sought friends to play tag with, while the Espada sought battle. One was more covert, while the other was overt. The monster did not do this intentionally, though. He liked to play rough, but for the first time in a long time, he realized that he might end up hurting a friend. Before his centuries-long rest, he made friends that would randomly disappear. He thought that they had business to attend to because he believed that his friends would not abandon him. This was true, though, in a twisted way. They hadn’t cast him aside, instead, they had succumbed to his tremendous spiritual pressure and presence. Unfortunately, this left the being in a state of loneliness quite often. However, he never fully understood what he felt. Years of yearning never broke his soul, though. This abundance of loneliness led to his formerly dormant state taking over. When one is bored, they tend to get tired. In Guillermo’s case, he slept for far longer than a typical being does.

He is brought to a violent halt as Helliodoro manages to get ahold of his tail. Had he decided to fight back, the Espada’s arm would have found itself laying on the floor the instant that he pursued this plan of action. The appendage would have ripped through the entirety of his arm to make its back into Guillermo’s body—quick enough to make one question whether or not it ever existed. He would then jut the tail out of his body and directly into the Espada. This, of course, would have happened if he paid no thought to what he was doing. A single moment of hesitance was enough to end a battle. Such a fact was especially true in the brutal dimension of Hueco Mundo. Guillermo was facing the 3rd strongest Espada – the one who was only surpassed by the Cero and Primera. Such a thing meant that this being was similar to that of an apex predator. Considering Helliodoro’s origin and evolution, this made perfect sense.

Without a second to adjust his “plan,” Guillermo finds himself being thrown against the floor. The environment collapses around them from the severe impact caused by his body making contact with the floor. Surprisingly, this is one of the few instances that the creature’s Hierro comes into play. It allows for him to survive the initial impact, but not entirely unscathed. His insides haven’t been scrambled quite yet, but they have certainly sustained damage. Unbeknownst to Helliodoro, by the time his assault continues, the integrity of his insides have reached their formerly pristine state. However, for one reason or another, the horns protruding from the Vasto Lorde’s eye sockets have begun to crack. Unlike the rest of his body, these do not heal. The energy of the beast fluctuates as he sustains an onset far worse than any he has ever been up against.

A foot caves in his chest, causing a flood to squirt out to each of his sides. Blood pools in his mouth as he crumbles under the vehemence of the Espada. The biggest mistake that Helliodoro makes is assuming that the damage he was dealing to Guillermo was enough to kill him. The concept of Etiqueta will serve as one of the two reasons for the beast’s ability to maintain its life in the face of otherwise certain death. In his blind aggression, the Espada fails to notice that the wounds he inflicts are…gone. However, they certainly existed at one point. As his foot remains within the creature before he lifts it, the Vasto Lorde has parsed out the rate at which Etiqueta activates—weaving in his regeneration while delaying the damage. His indomitable regeneration heals him at a rate that can keep up with the assault. As his foot drags Guillermo around and continues to mash him like potatoes, his healing factor continues to repair the damage, the tissue itself stops just short of forcing the Espada’s foot to remain in place. Had he decided to continue the battle, he would have assured that Helliodoro’s foot would remain in place. However, he had not done so. A lack of the will to fight was responsible for this as well as an unconscious understanding of the metamorphosis that was to occur. His body acted before his mind, as he was in a daze from the cracks on his horns, not from the trauma to the brain that had already healed.

Unrelenting, the foot of the unruly Espada makes contact with Guillermo’s head after he withdraws it from the monster’s body. An injury that surely would’ve put any others to rest permanently. While he may not realize it, the Espada has expedited the evolution of the Vasto Lorde. His horns have officially broken entirely, but as of now, nothing has happened. His energy becomes more unstable, yet it does not interfere with the intent of the brawler intent on killing him. His head appears to turn to mush, and it does, but not in the way that was intended. Yet again, the damage being done to the creature is delayed, healed, and then delayed again. Considering the destruction and timing of this, however, it is not easy to perceive, nor does it appear as if this is happening. The moment that damage is dealt, it is already being repaired. What remains convincing is the brain matter and blood that has come from the Vasto Lorde. Those have not gone back into him during the healing process, instead, his body has simply replaced them. The ombre-haired man has ensured that Guillermo becomes one with the destruction around him. The blood, rubble, dust, and other bodily debris do fly around as intended. As the final rampage ends, it is the last time that the being’s body begins the regeneration process. However, the impact of this damage is delayed. Until Helliodoro looks away, the technique of Etiqueta is not fully released—the process that has been ongoing since the start of the brutalization begins anew yet again. However, the horns that have been broken have not been repaired. Once the Espada has left the vicinity, Guillermo’s energy swirls around him and condenses into his being. For someone lacking control, this is a very precise type of action. However, it is not by his own volition that this occurs, no…

This is his evolution

The only word that can describe the intensity of this energy is nuclear Surely, the scientist known as Izeel would find some way to contain the energy emanating from the Vasto Lorde undergoing its metamorphosis—especially since it was in his lab of all places. If not, it threatened to destroy the lab and everything within at least three miles of where it stood. Not unlike an event that occurred one hundred years ago, this threatens all life within the aforementioned radius. Fluctuating between Shinigami and Hollow, the spiritual energy of the beast remains unstable. With each passing second, the intensity of the energy grows as it condenses further until finally, it takes a humanoid form within the crater that has only deepened—the same crater that it was meant to be buried in. Shortly after the area has stabilized, assuming Izeel was able to prevent everything from turning into dust, the boy climbs out of the crater with a delighted demeanor, looking toward Izeel’s location from an upside-down perspective, which covers his mask now.

”Wooooooahhhh! What happened to me!? I bet I look super cool! Does anyone got a mirror or sumn’?!” His childish tone echoes throughout the room, yearning for a way to get a look at himself.

This was the true birth of the being. The inception of Guillermo had been completed and he was now who he was always meant to be: an Arrancar.