[BSD-RP] Hueco Mundo

[BSD]

King’s Choice
“I could do such a thing if you trust me enough for that.”
“Trust… a foreign thing for our kind.”
Santana’s ears twitch as he hears the scurrying of forest dwellers retreat into the farthest corner as possible. For a bit, Santana is perplexed until he deduces that there is a new entity among them. Lifting his gaze from Yandiel, Santana’s eyes stop behind him to where this new face makes his presence known in a mere two strides. A man much larger than Yandiel with a very keen choice of attire or lack thereof. With an obsidian mane to decorate himself with, Santana comes to face the mighty God-King himself.
“And who might you be Amigo? A friend of Yandiel here? An enemy of mine? Or are you perhaps the latest addition to our army?”
A tilt of Santana’s head had caused a few stalks to break apart as his antlers rocked into them from the simple action. He follows with a deep inhale, smelling the faint hinge of blood that oozed off of the King’s body, perhaps having gotten into a scuffle long before he’d decided to come looking for his subordinate. Otherwise, what reason would he have to visit the Forest?
“…An acquaintance of your fraccion. He has spent some time… coercing me to become a part of your faction; more specifically, as your fraccion.”
Santana lowers his head in a short display of respect to the one that has ruled for a century or so. The one that stood before him was surely strange, having been so… forgiving all that time ago. The air that surrounded this man was nothing short of merciless and in this space, would level it to nothing if the two were to go head-to-head. Being in such proximity like this would decimate some, if not all, who fell into the line of fire.
“Since you have graced these grounds with your presence, then what services would you have for me in your army, and if given the opportunity, one of those who work so closely to you as Yandiel here? Are we free to kill and act as we desire? What could this God-King do with another pawn in his army?”
Clearly there was little need for a fight. Neither side has shown aggression to even elicit a snarl. For a group of violent individuals, all three entities have been rather amiable about their approach. Yandiel’s and Santana’s fascination with one another played rather well into Maxamiliano’s hands. His timing was rather impeccable in considering Santana’s question when it came to removing his mask. Whether or not Yandiel had the power to do so was not the question, but whether he would be the one to do it. Perhaps the task was up to the God-King, if he chose not to break Santana’s neck right along with it.

 

[BSD]

“Trust… a foreign thing for our kind.”
Santana’s perspective was true, Yandiel himself could not dispute the two-faced nature of their kind. Even himself at this moment was working as an agent of two intents. A motivation of genuine nature and another one of his own manipulative habits. Seeking someone who contained the mirrored reality of his own conception and time in the forest did come with a hand in what someone could consider a search for companionship. Standing next to that was gaining a figure of support that could be used should disorder arise among their ranks. It’d fill a fragment of his own soul and simultaneously secure the longevity of his life.
Before the pale Arrancar could take a breath to make words, the presence of a familiar force slipped into the Menos domain. The rumbling noise of Sonido brought with it the black-maned king of Hueco Mundo. The smell of blood reaching trailing between the nostrils of the youthfully appearing Hollow.
” And who might you be Amigo? A friend of Yandiel here? An enemy of mine? Or are you perhaps the latest addition to our army?”
Max spoke in a way that was rather calm and proper, yet carried a weight behind it. An expression of a civil conversation but also the prepared intent to retaliate against any hostility. Yandiel wondered how the stag would reply to the attendance of the God-King.
"My Lord. "
Yandiel acknowledged in a simple way the newfound presence with a shallow bow in his direction. A display that maintained his own independent nature, though also respect for the stallion. The formality of this action likely was unneeded but still something that he felt he’d deliver. If there were two individuals that deserved his loyalty it was his King and himself. No faith was laid in the Espada nor those that dwelled beneath their feet.
“…An acquaintance of your Fracción. He has spent some time… coercing me to become a part of your faction; more specifically, as your Fracción.”
Santana displayed a sense of regard for the equine. Yandiel’s blue orbs study the gesture, discerning that this is authentic, but probably also an act of self-preservation to the intimidating entity that had just heard the response to his cluster of questions.
“Since you have graced these grounds with your presence, then what services would you have for me in your army, and if given the opportunity, one of those who work so closely to you as Yandiel here? Are we free to kill and act as we desire? What could this God-King do with another pawn in his army?”
Valid inquiries vibrated out from Santana, reaching for answers that certainly would carry more weight coming from the man that he’d be serving. Would the monochrome Menos agree to the offer that Yandiel placed on the table? Will the answers given by the impressively potent ruler be the final nails in the structure that was frame by himself? His glance sweeping across from the stag to that of his only superior. Max was certainly trying to refill their ranks since his expulsion of weakness from his court, but there laid one more question. Would he find Santana worthy of joining his forces? It all came down to the God-King’s trust in Yandiel’s choices, as well as his own read on the potential conscript.

 

[BSD]

Crunch…Crunch...Crunch…
Days shift in and out without change. The mind of this entranced Hollow, barely cognizant as it is, renders the concepts of day and night to be null and void. Now with every step, the thrumming force within this lost soul echoes out into the deserts. Far beyond where they themselves stand, reaching the expansive Forest of Menos and beyond, there, this pulse of vigor feels and sounds more like a warm, tingling breeze. Within Las Noches, there is a different sensation entirely. Each step of this Wanderer fills the monolithic building with an unknown and foreign spirit and vitality. The warm breeze those in the forest feel is instead a rhythmic gale that almost threatens to blow those who are unprepared off their feet. The near comforting warmth is no longer felt in such a manner but instead it strikes as an adrenaline rush of excitement perhaps, or maybe even a fight or flight response from those of lesser standing.
The final step. From the sands they trod over for however many days, to the first of countless steps leading to the gargantuan and illustrious home of the Espada and the Godking himself. A single thud of a barefoot on the perfectly crafted steps of the snake way towards the main structure of Las Noches. The dull impact is heard by none but instead, felt by all within the castle. As though the living monument were overcome with fear, it begins to quake and shudder agonizingly, testing the architecture for all it is worth. With the passing moment of this single step, the walls and ceilings begin to split and crumble, allowing the outside light to penetrate into the sanctuary within. Of course, this is the first of many steps as they push off of the sand, a second foot planting to the next step up. Again, Las Noches suffers the same seismic shock of this being's presence approaching their destination. Each of the countless steps brings the same fate as the last, each shock tearing more and more pieces of the framework to the sands beneath, the previous footings crumbling away to dust.
Like a baby animal taking its first moments in life, adjusting to the light and the sounds, attempting to gather it’s bearings, the already open eyes of this Hollow stranger finally take in a fuzzy and blurred view of what is before them. Their ears ring with every stride upwards, the only sound that pierces the muffled sense are the beats of their own heart and a light thud of each step. Along with the rousing of the senses, so too does the mind begin to wake, a single expression runs through that mind.
”Huh?”

 

[BSD]

As he was happy and haphazardly chucking pillows from the ledge, the sudden startle he got when a couple of sneaky beings decided to creep up on Grimaldi made him howl like a beast.
" AHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHOOOOOOO GOES THERE!!!!!!!!! I WASN'T SCARED, YOU BIG SNEAKY! "
He spun around on his heel to see the oddest of Arrancar he has laid eyes on thus far. He casually walked up to the being, Grimaldi's eyes going from his feet to hairline over and over until he got within casual conversation range. Then, letting a whistle sharply extend from his decision to answer his question.
" You are a biggun' You really shouldn't sneak up on people like that; it could be bad for your health. My name is... AHEM... Grimaldi-Uzziel Ortiz! the BEST-BEST FRIEND of Maximiliano Zacarías, The one true God-King. Since you walk his halls living, I will assume you are also one of his best friends, So I will not kill you where you stand. Hey, Have you see-- "
A disturbance of new friendships
A thump? No, a Thud? A pulse? Something radiating with power had let off a small impulsive signal. This set Grimaldi's ears back as if alert. Then he felt it, a boom of pressure that widened his eyes." New friend you feel that? Let's investigate it. " Grimaldi would then casually walk beyond Alfa and towards the main entrance of Las Noches. He was rushing pretty fast, for he only got there in a few hurried steps. Pushing the massive doors open, he would come to a large courtyard. Grimaldi would then start to stride out to the opposite end, where the end of the massive serpentine stairs gave way to a massive hollow skull that held another set of large gates.
Getting impatient now, Grimaldi allowed himself to crack and disappear from the space he was once in. To now having his hands resting on the large gate doors in the Hollow Skull's mouth. With a heave, he shoves the massive black doors open and peers down the jagged steps.

He reaches out to the small spec where he feels the power radiating from." From all this way, that little guy is radiating that much power from all the way down there. Insane, Max has to have this one as a Best-best-best-best friend. Don't you agree, Alfa "
Grimaldi had no idea if Alfa had followed him or not; he was solely focused on this reiatsu. It was massive compared to most the other Arrancar Grimaldi has spied on. In fact, only one thing ever had this sort of bright power, but no. Grimaldi chased that thing into the depths of the great sky. There was no chance it could be his best friend, the ball of light. Grimaldi would wave his hands down the miles of stairs to the energy source as if they could see each other.
" Heyoooooo! You seem strong Feel like playing?! " Grimaldi would leap into the air a few times, waving his arms to try and get the Arrancar's attention.

 

[BSD]

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Arriving From: The Precipice World
A tear appears in the black canopy of the night sky, ripping through the fabric of space and threads of time. From this tear a small mass emerges, a meteor of flesh falling through the air, combusting with red flame upon its arrival. A lump of writhing tendrils which lash about helplessly as they seek to gain some sort of foothold. These tendrils appear to be composed of the same bone-like material that make up a Hollow’s mask, yet towards the end of their tips the starch white of bone becomes a crimson hue of red. However, what is more concerning is that each of the tentacles appears to stem from a disembodied mouth. As large as an adjucha, this mouth composes a twisted grin, the rows of teeth appearing similar to those of a human, though each tooth alone was the size of one. What’s more, the tendrils stemming from the mouth seem to be increasing, as they continue to merge together.
With this physical growth, comes a spiritual one. The red flame that grows around the meteor does not come from the friction of its velocity against the atmosphere of the sky. Instead, a close observer will see that the fire does not engulf it at all, but rather is emitted from the mass of flesh. As this fire burns brighter in proportion to the growth of the skull, it becomes clear that this red flame bears the signature of a Hollow’s spiritual energy. A spiritual energy that now burns so bright, that it illuminates the night sky of Hueco Mundo, the vastness of its red flames causing it to appear more like a falling star than a meteorite, burning into the retinas of any creature that dares to look up. Only the strongest of Hueco Mundo’s beings are able to peer through the flame, and see what is inside.

The smile that appears in the night sky only seems to have grown proportionate to the spiritual flame that surrounds it. What was once only a mass of tentacles and teeth, now expands into a full fledged skull with an outstretched tongue. The bone grows to form four horns, and six eye slots, all centered around a black void in the middle of its face, the location of the erosion of its spirit chain.
BOOOOOOOOOOOM
The creature collides against the white sand of Hueco Mundo’s surface, causing a cloud of the bone-dust to erupt a hundred feet high into the night air. Its arrival shatters the ground, creating a crater the size of a small city. Any hollow unfortunate enough to have been within a mile radius of the collision finds their masks shattered and organs ruptured upon contact with the shockwave. In turn, the far corner of this desert is now rendered barren by destruction, as unforeseen devastation rained down from the skies.
Surely nothing could survive such a cataclysmic impact, and yet, something rises from the center of this crater. Red spires of crimson bone breach the surface of the crater like the fin of a shark beaches the surface of the ocean. These spinal appendages find themselves connected to the back of a thirty foot tall Hollow, which smiles as it pushes itself off of the ground. Its tongue slithers out from between its teeth, picking at foreign pieces of flesh caught within its gums, and licking its teeth clean of Shinigami blood. A guttural groan of laughter chokes itself out of the Hollow’s throat, the primal laughter of a beast, rather than the voice of a man.

The creature then bites down, its jaws clamping together like cold iron as its jaw grinds and grates with such force that the bone of its teeth begins to chip away. It releases a singular exhaling breath releasing internally built up spiritual pressure, which causes a torrent of crimson steam to emit from the cracks between its rows of teeth like the steam of a train escaping the heat of its engine. The rigid bone of its Skull-like mask cracks and deforms around its eye slits as they crease in anger. From the depths of its chest a gurgling voice rings out, clearer than ever before, displaying a further increase in its intelligence, as though its consumption of Shinigami flesh has granted it newfound cognitive abilities. No longer the shrieking of a mindless monster, this voice now carries with it a nuance: the subtlety of emotion. Anger permeates throughout its tone, and yet deeper down, there is a layer of amusement and even...satisfaction.
“ThAt TASTY liTTLe SHIT cOst mE mY HuNTING GRoUND...”
It says, looking around the vast emptiness of the Hueco Mundo Desert. Standing within its crater, all it can see is the barren black skies stretching infinitely throughout this hell, reflected like yin against yang by the infinite bone-dust of Hueco Mundo’s white sands. It is too far from the center of this realm to see the legendary Los Noches, which is fortunate for the little creatures that cower behind the safety of its walls. However, Hueco Mundo is a big place, and should this monster be allowed to roam, it would only be a matter of time before it finds such scrumptious new prey.
“...sO, WHeRe THe FUCK Am I?”