BSD
Administrator
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The competitors continue to pour in, and in a strange act of fate, it is the newest Captain who arrives behind Kyomu. Having been waiting patiently with his eyes closed, a single eye opens at the feel of Omoni’s rising spiritual pressure during the course of her interview.
“ Hey! Snake!”
Hageshi calls out to the Phantom upon exiting from her own interview, earning no verbal response from her former Proctor. Each of them had their own frustrations regarding their clash during her test; Omoni wanting to fight more, to clash flesh, steel and blood against her opponent, and Kyomu with wanting to but seemingly unable to cut the woman down..at least, not without consequence.
“ This ain't gonna go like the last time. I’m gonna kick your ass, Mukuro.”
The new Captain of Eleventh makes plain her intentions should the two meet up during this competition, grunting as she trudges off, with Kyomu quietly closing his eyes once more. There is no telling what is going through his mind as he waits for the games to begin. Hageshi’s subordinate is the next to join their little group with little fairy Yu fluttering in soon behind him. Unexpectedly, Honoka has also seen fit to join the little soiree. Her arrival, while surprising, elicits no reaction from Kyomu. In the past he might have expressed concern in his own way, for someone he cared for to participate in such an event despite her ability. Now, the wounds from both were still fresh, the distance between them was something not easily bridged, even by a master of shunpo such as himself. Nibui’s arrival marks the third participant who has faced Kyomu in combat, with him acting as proctor for their ability. True to his nature, the Lieutenant distances himself from the others and prepares himself mentally for the trial to come. The stench of alcohol greets those gathered well before the man himself actually stumbles inside. This drunkard is someone unfamiliar to not only Kyomu, but several others as well, a stranger to the Seireitei’s powerhouses, yet here all the same. Was it true confidence that brought him here, or sheer ignorance and stupidity?
One of Kyomu’s own subordinates, Shinotori Hitsugaya arrives trailing at the end. How foolish. Was he not aware of the dangers? Despite the event being called Kenpachi Games it was anything but such. This was a tournament of slaughter, and nothing more. The boy was well out of his depth, something he’d inevitably discover himself. Another unexpected surprise arrives by way of Captain Yugure herself, Kyomu’s former Lieutenant. Having been exempt from the event, it seems that she truly had come into her own as a Captain, her pride as one wouldn’t allow her to sit aside while those she called peers participated. Good, he’d expect nothing less from the brat he had personally trained. With no others having arrived after Yasu, it is safe to assume that there would be no more participants. There is an explosion of noise outside as the crowd is built up by and with the arrival of the Commander himself, orchestrator of this torturous event. His presence acts as a timer, a countdown to the actual events taking place. Images of those present outside of the smelly drunkard manifest inside the Phantom’s mindscape. As the commander speaks Kyomu gets to work, dissecting his fellow shinigami, listing what he knows of their strengths and weaknesses and the best course of action to assassinate them.
The first list of names is called, narrowing the number of targets Kyomu must consider for the upcoming assignment. Yes, he must look at the battle to come not as a tournament, but as a job, a hit to which he was assigned.
Tenzen Oda
Kyomu Mukuro
Suiyo Kusotare
“Gather to the right, you will be group two. Those of you who remain, will be group three, and you can stay where you are.”
Kyomu’s eyes spring open at the calling of his name, glancing towards the Buddha and then towards the drunkard. As he moves towards the right with the others he suppresses his aggravation. One target was not only a master, but a Grand Master of Kido, something that he himself did not excel in, the other was a man whom he had never seen or even heard of and thus, he had no information regarding him. It was a situation that he considered unfavorable and aggravating. He’d have to be particular in his approach. He focuses his attention on the unknown variable for the moment while the Commander continues on. The man at first glance appeared as nothing more than a lush, a fool out of place. The Mukuro takes note of his demeanor, the man didn’t seem to be faking his inebriated state, and the stench permeating from him was certainly genuine too. While the man was garbed in the standard shinigami attire, Kyomu was certain that someone like him would be rather familiar within the Seireitei, he didn’t seem the type to go unnoticed, at least not in this drunken stupor. Yet Kyomu cannot recall a single bit of information regarding a man like him among the divisions, but that uniform he wore was unmistakable. Did he steal it? He was clearly from the Rukongai so was it a member of the Seventh Division that fell victim to the man’s sticky fingers? Among the stench and dirt that smeared and dirtied the shihakusho of the lush, were also the stains of dried blood, while overlooked by a standard person, but one who lived a life of death and bloodshed, there’s no way such a thing would go unnoticed. Was it the man’s? Kyomu’s eyes glance towards the blade in the drunken bastard’s possession. Surely a fool like him would have sold it already for his next cup or rather jug of liquor by now.
’Could it be-’
Mid-thought an orb of wind collides upon the ground before not only his group, but the other two groups as well, soon sweeping everyone away in a cyclone. Vision blinded by white, it quickly becomes tainted and blotched out by ineffable darkness. Kyomu quickly takes note of his surroundings while briefly dwelling on the manner of their transportation. He disliked being brought in such a manner, having no control in his own movements and thus having to establish his bearings on the fly. The only source of light in such a depressing space were from those of the massive emerald spires and crystals fashioned into a makeshift arena. Although he has never been here himself, it dawns on him just where they are...the Muken. The Phantom suppresses a chuckle. Was it irony, that he would be forced to do battle in the same plane occupied by the very man who once ruled as his Commander and...who Kyomu had drawn his blade against? The sound of Tenzen’s chanting grounds the Captain to the most important of matters at hand...this match. One hand quickly takes hold of Genzoken, freeing it from the prison of its scabbard.
The Mad Buddha shows his readiness for battle as his reiatsu is stimulated, flaring from his form as his chants continue. As the Kido Chief speaks Kyomu readies his sword, raising it parallel to himself with a single hand — a second Kyomu appearing to step out from behind him, watching the Phantom’s 3 O’Clock, and then another to watch his 6 O’Clock and finally one more watching his 9 O’Clock. There now stands a total of four Captain Mukuro’s, each facing a different direction allowing the Captain to cover all his blindspots. Impulse says to step in and stop the Buddha from finishing his incantation, to disrupt his flow and force the man on the defensive. Caution however was another voice, it brings the crimson flames to the Phantom’s attention, and recalls the Grandmaster’s mastery in hiding his hand and interweaving spells. Kyomu knows that he is fast enough to reach the Buddha mid-chant, but he also knows that this is information that Tenzen is also privy to. Then there was the X factor, the strange drunkard, a fool displaced in a world beyond his reach or...a hidden blade aiming to be underestimated and overlooked.
While not well versed with all the Kido, Kyomu gauges that the Kido master has gone through one or two lines of the incantation. There was still time, even if three more lines existed, it was more than enough time to act. Looking at the formation held by the quartet it is easy for one to assume that the original Kyomu is the one facing 12 O’Clock, watching the Buddha, especially as neither of the four appear to move, holding their stance firmly. Each one holding the blade with a single hand, the other hand veiled within their dark sleeves. The games had truly begun, with the Buddha baiting his peers' attack, how long could Kyomu hold out before biting, and more importantly, how long would it take to ascertain any amount of information on the drunkard dressed as a shinigami?
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The competitors continue to pour in, and in a strange act of fate, it is the newest Captain who arrives behind Kyomu. Having been waiting patiently with his eyes closed, a single eye opens at the feel of Omoni’s rising spiritual pressure during the course of her interview.
“ Hey! Snake!”
Hageshi calls out to the Phantom upon exiting from her own interview, earning no verbal response from her former Proctor. Each of them had their own frustrations regarding their clash during her test; Omoni wanting to fight more, to clash flesh, steel and blood against her opponent, and Kyomu with wanting to but seemingly unable to cut the woman down..at least, not without consequence.
“ This ain't gonna go like the last time. I’m gonna kick your ass, Mukuro.”
The new Captain of Eleventh makes plain her intentions should the two meet up during this competition, grunting as she trudges off, with Kyomu quietly closing his eyes once more. There is no telling what is going through his mind as he waits for the games to begin. Hageshi’s subordinate is the next to join their little group with little fairy Yu fluttering in soon behind him. Unexpectedly, Honoka has also seen fit to join the little soiree. Her arrival, while surprising, elicits no reaction from Kyomu. In the past he might have expressed concern in his own way, for someone he cared for to participate in such an event despite her ability. Now, the wounds from both were still fresh, the distance between them was something not easily bridged, even by a master of shunpo such as himself. Nibui’s arrival marks the third participant who has faced Kyomu in combat, with him acting as proctor for their ability. True to his nature, the Lieutenant distances himself from the others and prepares himself mentally for the trial to come. The stench of alcohol greets those gathered well before the man himself actually stumbles inside. This drunkard is someone unfamiliar to not only Kyomu, but several others as well, a stranger to the Seireitei’s powerhouses, yet here all the same. Was it true confidence that brought him here, or sheer ignorance and stupidity?
One of Kyomu’s own subordinates, Shinotori Hitsugaya arrives trailing at the end. How foolish. Was he not aware of the dangers? Despite the event being called Kenpachi Games it was anything but such. This was a tournament of slaughter, and nothing more. The boy was well out of his depth, something he’d inevitably discover himself. Another unexpected surprise arrives by way of Captain Yugure herself, Kyomu’s former Lieutenant. Having been exempt from the event, it seems that she truly had come into her own as a Captain, her pride as one wouldn’t allow her to sit aside while those she called peers participated. Good, he’d expect nothing less from the brat he had personally trained. With no others having arrived after Yasu, it is safe to assume that there would be no more participants. There is an explosion of noise outside as the crowd is built up by and with the arrival of the Commander himself, orchestrator of this torturous event. His presence acts as a timer, a countdown to the actual events taking place. Images of those present outside of the smelly drunkard manifest inside the Phantom’s mindscape. As the commander speaks Kyomu gets to work, dissecting his fellow shinigami, listing what he knows of their strengths and weaknesses and the best course of action to assassinate them.
The first list of names is called, narrowing the number of targets Kyomu must consider for the upcoming assignment. Yes, he must look at the battle to come not as a tournament, but as a job, a hit to which he was assigned.
Tenzen Oda
Kyomu Mukuro
Suiyo Kusotare
“Gather to the right, you will be group two. Those of you who remain, will be group three, and you can stay where you are.”
Kyomu’s eyes spring open at the calling of his name, glancing towards the Buddha and then towards the drunkard. As he moves towards the right with the others he suppresses his aggravation. One target was not only a master, but a Grand Master of Kido, something that he himself did not excel in, the other was a man whom he had never seen or even heard of and thus, he had no information regarding him. It was a situation that he considered unfavorable and aggravating. He’d have to be particular in his approach. He focuses his attention on the unknown variable for the moment while the Commander continues on. The man at first glance appeared as nothing more than a lush, a fool out of place. The Mukuro takes note of his demeanor, the man didn’t seem to be faking his inebriated state, and the stench permeating from him was certainly genuine too. While the man was garbed in the standard shinigami attire, Kyomu was certain that someone like him would be rather familiar within the Seireitei, he didn’t seem the type to go unnoticed, at least not in this drunken stupor. Yet Kyomu cannot recall a single bit of information regarding a man like him among the divisions, but that uniform he wore was unmistakable. Did he steal it? He was clearly from the Rukongai so was it a member of the Seventh Division that fell victim to the man’s sticky fingers? Among the stench and dirt that smeared and dirtied the shihakusho of the lush, were also the stains of dried blood, while overlooked by a standard person, but one who lived a life of death and bloodshed, there’s no way such a thing would go unnoticed. Was it the man’s? Kyomu’s eyes glance towards the blade in the drunken bastard’s possession. Surely a fool like him would have sold it already for his next cup or rather jug of liquor by now.
’Could it be-’
Mid-thought an orb of wind collides upon the ground before not only his group, but the other two groups as well, soon sweeping everyone away in a cyclone. Vision blinded by white, it quickly becomes tainted and blotched out by ineffable darkness. Kyomu quickly takes note of his surroundings while briefly dwelling on the manner of their transportation. He disliked being brought in such a manner, having no control in his own movements and thus having to establish his bearings on the fly. The only source of light in such a depressing space were from those of the massive emerald spires and crystals fashioned into a makeshift arena. Although he has never been here himself, it dawns on him just where they are...the Muken. The Phantom suppresses a chuckle. Was it irony, that he would be forced to do battle in the same plane occupied by the very man who once ruled as his Commander and...who Kyomu had drawn his blade against? The sound of Tenzen’s chanting grounds the Captain to the most important of matters at hand...this match. One hand quickly takes hold of Genzoken, freeing it from the prison of its scabbard.
The Mad Buddha shows his readiness for battle as his reiatsu is stimulated, flaring from his form as his chants continue. As the Kido Chief speaks Kyomu readies his sword, raising it parallel to himself with a single hand — a second Kyomu appearing to step out from behind him, watching the Phantom’s 3 O’Clock, and then another to watch his 6 O’Clock and finally one more watching his 9 O’Clock. There now stands a total of four Captain Mukuro’s, each facing a different direction allowing the Captain to cover all his blindspots. Impulse says to step in and stop the Buddha from finishing his incantation, to disrupt his flow and force the man on the defensive. Caution however was another voice, it brings the crimson flames to the Phantom’s attention, and recalls the Grandmaster’s mastery in hiding his hand and interweaving spells. Kyomu knows that he is fast enough to reach the Buddha mid-chant, but he also knows that this is information that Tenzen is also privy to. Then there was the X factor, the strange drunkard, a fool displaced in a world beyond his reach or...a hidden blade aiming to be underestimated and overlooked.
While not well versed with all the Kido, Kyomu gauges that the Kido master has gone through one or two lines of the incantation. There was still time, even if three more lines existed, it was more than enough time to act. Looking at the formation held by the quartet it is easy for one to assume that the original Kyomu is the one facing 12 O’Clock, watching the Buddha, especially as neither of the four appear to move, holding their stance firmly. Each one holding the blade with a single hand, the other hand veiled within their dark sleeves. The games had truly begun, with the Buddha baiting his peers' attack, how long could Kyomu hold out before biting, and more importantly, how long would it take to ascertain any amount of information on the drunkard dressed as a shinigami?
