[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Central Seireitei

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[click every time ^]
Northeast Seireitei ------------------> To Central Seireitei

After some time, the trio approached the walls of the east gate. Most of the guards on duty were regulars, on his side of things. Beyond were more unfamiliar faces, most likely underlings of the first division. He led his Lieutenant and fourth seat along the main path, then stopped. Observing the movements of central, there was much to be done despite the meeting of captains. When compared to the regular duties of being fulfilled daily in the Central Seireitei, a meeting between captains was a notoriously private affair. Important enough to be spoken about at the tables of many divisions barracks, but too distant from most shinigami's reality to give it much more thought than that. The dragons jade eyes scan many faces that pass then, his gaze shifts to the skies, and with a pivot of his heel, he was off. His stride is methodical, slow in its pace but consistent enough that it was as though he floated just inches above the ground. The heavy stench of aromatic herbs hung around him in a cloud, permeated anywhere he went with its impact. For much of his walk, he said not a single word.
"..."
It was not unusual for Maho to fall into silence. The Dragon was a being of thought. Contemplation was typically his first line of defense. Much more than anyone who only saw him as hot-headed and foolish would assume. If he could, he'd plan centuries in advance. With towering walls in the distance, his voice brought them to a stop.
"This is far enough..."
He exhales once more and takes the cigar from his lips. It is now halfway burned away.
"More than likely this Captain ~meeting~ ain't allowing outside visitors. I can see it in the way much of the central district is moving about. You two would be turned away at the door without a second thought.
His Haori is taken by a gust of wind, causing it to wave in response. The 9th insignia on his back flutters in view of his subordinates. Then he turns to face them.
"Jatiri. Keep them ears on me. You two hang back once we get inside. Kyu. This is a good time to practice your sensory training. Keep track of me the best you can. If you lose my trail Jatiri san can straighten you out. I'll call both yall when I finish in a few hours."
Placing the cigar back he struts beside Kyuuzou, placing his hand on his shoulder.
"Just...try to keep it clean. A good story can't be found with a broken lens. Pace yourself. That way, even if they fish you out the pond. At least they won't blame me directly for it eh? GAAAAAAHAAAHAHAHAAA!!"
His hysterics are met with a slow exit, the pit, and padder of his soles against the stony footing beneath him far more audible than necessary. He places his half-smoked cigar between his lips, his right-hand slinks comfortably into his pockets while his left lifts into the air. With a casual wave, he calls out to them
"Haaaaave fuuuuuun"~
It was safest for the two to follow him through the gates. Most likely those on duty would not think twice about a captain's approach with a number of shinigami at his side. They pass through the east gate and into the Central division territory. The moment Maho was out of sight, it would be wise for those two to do the same.
He decides to take the scenic route, taking a mental inventory of the entire area first, arms encased in his white coat, he made little eye contact with a single soul. In fact, his eyes were closed, the world around him engulfed in shadow, yet everything around him like individuals beacons of light. Each person with enough life in them told the story about his surroundings. This made it especially easy for him not to lose his way. Amongst all the signatures around, none were stronger than a handful. And neither of those anywhere near the most pressing of them all.
Head Captain Murasaki.
Maho uttered as he stood at the entrance to the Captain's hall. The place set for the Captains to convene. The large building that was the Captain's hall caused an unsteadiness to take him. This was really something he didn't feel like dealing with.
"Sigh...."
He drops the now burnt away and steps on it, extinguishing its dim flame. He snatches another without delay and stuffs it between his teeth. Here we go...
There is the flicker of flame
Then the Dragon approaches, it appears he is the first to do so as he breaches the surrounding walls into the Captain's halls courtyard, where he could see, that someone was waiting for him. Or them? It didn't matter really.
"Oiiii ~" He calls out, his voice loud enough to be heard, but non-intrusive all the same. He wasn't in his house anymore.
Best to be on my best behavior...

 

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Captain Oda reflects on the training he had with Himari and Arashi as he hastily puts on his tabi and sandals, all he could think is how ruthless his new Lt. was. Good. He himself was raised around ruthlessness and cutthroat behavior and in an odd way, Arashi made him feel like he was back home again such nostalgic and warm memories resurface as he ponders this exiting his personal quarters. Now comes an issue, footwear. Tenzen has gone barefoot for centuries even before he left home to join the academy and so he isn't accustomed to moving around in them. His feet are planted firmly to the ground, the boards beneath him creak as if they are under intense pressure, and when Tenzen launches himself into the air to land on a nearby rooftop the boards break and splinter. This right here is the problem, going so long without footwear has made it near impossible for him to know how much pressure he is putting down when he jumps or leaps. Extra, unnecessary, amount of pressure is applied to his steps breaking the ground beneath him. Naturally, he hears the boards shatter beneath him and as he ascends he looks back down towards them, a heavy sigh escapes him.
"Should have just gone barefoot..."
He mumbles and proceeds to make footholds out of Reishi as he travels to the southern gate of the First Division, though the same issue persists with the footholds at least he isn't damaging public property. After looking quite foolish traveling through the air he finally lands on the ground, cracking the tile his foot lands upon. He shakes his head and proceeds to and through the southern gate, nodding to the guards as he walks past them. He walks at a brisk pace, his hands hidden as he holds them together with the sleeves of his Shihakusho and Haori hiding them. As he walks he catches a glimpse of the Sōkyoku Hill in the distance, there is no mental comment about it as if he were looking at a blank empty wall. Once someone has seen something so many times it loses its luster and appeal to the point where looking at it is like looking at one of the many random trees that dot the Seireitei. Continuing onward a bit further the Central 46 Chambers come into view this time a frown accompanied by a narrow gaze emerges on the Captain's face, he hasn't forgotten that it is their fault for letting Shirogane use the pot and thus causing the massive incident to ensue. His gaze drifts off of that, what he considers, worthless place as he also thinks that if he didn't unseal that pot none of it would have happened. Tenzen takes responsibility for his actions and being crushed by the Commander was his punishment. Memories of that day resurface slowly, he stops his stride to calm his mind, clear it and he is once more at peace. He looks to his left, about Northwest to be exact as that is the direction he will need to head and so he whisks himself away with Shunpo, the tile beneath him shattering.
Moments later he reappears at the entrance to the Captain's hall, this time allowing himself to land lightly on his feet to avoid any further property damage. He shakes his head mumbling to himself about his dislike for footwear, pointless complaints that no one really needed to hear. His sense of smell is then hit by what can almost be described as some sort of plant set on fire, not on fire to an extreme degree but more of how a candle or incense is on fire, a slow subtle burning. His nose isn't so sensitive that he'd plug it as he has no opinion on the aroma. A small female stands guard at this entrance, possibly placed there by the Commander to stop unwanted guests from entering or snooping around the hall. Being terrible with small talk the Captain nods his head as a form of silent greetings to the small woman and proceeds onward when he hears someone calling out from in front of him.
"Oiiii ~"
It seems like the person in question is trying to see if anyone else is around, up to this point Tenzen hadn't bothered trying to sense who was there before him or who was closing in as the Captains will all be gathered together sooner or later. Having patience is this Oda's strong suit. He then notices that it is Captain Kojima the one who is calling out and Tenzen freezes for a moment. As a Seated Shinigami, he always respected the Captain's to a great degree, listened to what they said, never talked back to them unless it as absolutely necessary, and never brazenly addressed them without having a purpose to do so. Now, a Captain himself, he is at a crossroad does he greet him casually or with the same tone and respect that he had been accustomed to?
"Just greet him already and stop acting like some shy school girl."
His inner hollow speaks up berating him but also pushing him to make a decision. Only Tenzen would have this much trouble with doing something as simple as saying hello.
"Ah... Uhh, Captain Kojima... I guess we're the first ones here? Hehe..."
An awkward chuckle to end his greeting, he tries to distract himself from his own awkwardness and that earlier intrusion by his hollow reminds him that his very existence may be brought up in this meeting. He wonders what the other Captains may think of him now if they see him as a danger. Maybe greeting Captain Kojima was a bad idea as he may harbor some ill will towards him. Staying silent and minding his own business may have been the better option. No, if he stayed silent they may think something is wrong with him or he may be plotting something, but being too chatty can have the same effect, what if- Enough, he silences his rampant irrelevant thoughts, bringing it back to its peaceful state. His dark brown eyes raise up from the floor and although he stands before Captain Kojima he doesn't look directly at him. The irrelevant thoughts are silent but the awkwardness persists.

 

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[Arrived at Central Seireitei ➜ From Southeast Seireitei]

The Fifth Division remains on edge, despite their Captain’s departure. His actions along with his warnings leaves them standing and walking on pins and needles. They remain unaware just how long their Captain would be gone, when he would return...and when he would attack once again. The seeds of stress and terror are well planted by the Seireitei’s resident Buddha.
The Eighth division remains silent, its members hard at work mending and repairing the blades that pass through their doors. There is a cacophony of banging and ringing as metal is repeatedly struck and beaten into perfection. The roaring of the flames from the various furnaces muffle the noises somewhat. While some may be bothered by the racket, it is proof that the Division is doing all they can to contribute to the Gotei 13.
Finally..there is the First Division Barracks. Its members remain vigilant and attentive to their respective tasks. Every soul a cog, a gear operating at max efficiency, all under the looming threat of their Captain, Commander Murasaki. Very few are permitted in his presence, and still there is none who does not feel the weight of his ever judging vigilance. Should a single gear become misaligned, a single soul step out of place, act beyond the boundaries of its duty there existed the looming threat of being judged by the Great Judicator. Everyone within the prestigious division knew and understood that in the eyes of the Commander, everyone was dispensable and replaceable. Should a cog in a machine break, wear out or become ineffective then one simply needed to replace that part.
The entire Central Sector, the heart of the Seireitei was as always, flowing and operating flawlessly...but how long would that remain, with every active Captain now called to that same well maintained machine. In their own respective sections, geared towards their individual tasks, they were the perfect tools, the perfect parts. Here and now though, they were foreign objects, each with its own flaw, its own imperfection now being introduced into a machine that ran only on perfection.
”Hey have you heard? It seems a number of the Captains have been on the move. I just saw Captain Kojima and two others passing through on my way here.”
”That reminds me...when I was walking a shadow swept by from overhead. I looked up expecting a bird or something but it looked like it was Captain Oda from Fifth...Did you hear that…”
The words trail off as the gossip begins to spread. That’s two Captains, and both of their paths seemed to lead towards the First Division. The Sight of Captain Oda also begins to spark another brand of conversation, one stemming from the events two months ago. Who hadn’t heard by now of the incident involving the hollowfication of certain shinigami, between word of mouth and then the SCC, you needed to be living under a rock to remain ignorant of this still hot topic.
Amidst all the chatter and clatter, all the moving and gossipping, all present remain blind and ignorant to the fact that another Captain makes their approach.

His journey from his barracks sends him passing through the Southern Gate, past the barracks of the Eighth Division towards the barracks of the First. His steps are airy, weightless even as he maneuvers through the streets of loitering and chattering Shinigami. As he passes through they remain blind, deaf and ignorant to both his presence and reiatsu — unaware that a Phantom walks among them.
Odd, that the man heralded and lauded as the fastest Soul within the Soul Society, challenged perhaps only by his fellow Captain, Yū Nakamoto, that he would in fact, not be the first to arrive.
Perhaps the Captain is slowed by the weight of remembrance, perhaps the only Soul among those gathering that could hope to understand his thoughts and feelings at this time is none other than Captain Oda. The Captain of the Fifth Division is forced to face the Captain Commander once more, bearing the weight of that event. Remembering that it was he who unsealed the pot for the Kuchiki Killer, which in turn set in motion the events that led to the deaths of his own men from the Kido Corps along with those of the Sixth Division, saw that he and two other shinigami were hollowfied and brazenly and recklessly attacked the Commander. The Oda comes with the weight of that memory, and the full knowledge of his actions bearing on his shoulders.
Kyomu is the same
Every step towards the First Division, is a step down memory lane...and every memory is like a blade against his flesh. He is forced to recall dispatching his men to every single division within the Seireitei, forced to remember those that died when moving to retrieve and save young Yasu, the lives of those who sacrificed themselves to the barrier that surrounded the first...all to aid their Captain. He recalls brandishing his blade against the Head Captain of the Gotei 13, Shobatsu Murasaki.

He can still recall the flash of the Commander’s blade, the feeling of his life fleeing from him..then he’s returned whole. The glow of the purple flames of judgment dance within his amber hues and with the Commander’s approach..its all over, no sooner than it began.

The painful flashes continue. Kyomu, unable to close his eyes to his thoughts, unable to avert his gaze from the memory, as he now recalls the slaughter that took place within the hall of elders at the compound of the Mukuro Clan. A slaughter dealt by his hand.
Captain Mukuro approaches the First, prepares to face the Commander with the weight of the memory of guilt, loss, frustration and humiliation. He must face the Commander, stand amongst his peers while shouldering all these things.
It isn’t until the Captain passes the threshold into the grounds of the First Division that the once impercitable man becomes perceivable. To those on guard, watching, sensing, observing in any manner, it's as though Kyomu has suddenly and abruptly appeared. There is no sweeping breeze, no sudden wind, no signs of sudden arrival by Shunpo, yet it falls on standard assumption given the man’s specialty, that his sudden appearance is a result of his mastery over the technique.
"Ah... Uhh, Captain Kojima... I guess we're the first ones here? Hehe..."
Captain Oda attempts to make conversation with his fellow Captain. The air around them is polluted with the smoke from Captain Kojima’s special cigar. The scene, the smell is enough to temporarily cause the demon’s haunting Kyomu to retreat, the haunting memories strengthened by this place to submerge themselves back into his library of thoughts. It was...annoying being around that insufferable man.
The Phantom’s feathery gait sees him passing by both Captains, sparing neither man a single word or a moment’s glance. Though he sees the hall is guarded by a single, tiny woman, her expression almost equally as stern and venomous as Kyomu’s...the Captain proceeds on around her to step directly into the hall. Her presence there was, to him...inconsequential.
For now, he focused on only one thing, and that was finding out why that man, Shobatsu Murasaki had called upon all of them. Who among them would be judged this time?

 

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Central ———————————— traveling from ———————————— Rukongai
Taking his time to smell the flowers, it was as if Kiku was in a daze. Lulled to a gentle passiveness that made him nigh invisible. Walking right into central with his slouched shoulders. He didn't even remember walking from the Rukongai. Regardless, Kiku would wonder around and say hi to a few people that he saw every time he passed through for one thing or another. The area inside Central was always clean due to Kiku so he had many people thanking him for this. Slow and steady Kiku would meander his way towards the first division barracks. Taking a few minuets to find them, not out of misdirection but out of laziness. Upon reaching it, Kiku itched his nose as he stood next to a member of first division that was stationed behind a desk; " Yo, What's the latest, I got that report ready. From the Kuchiki Manor "
His voice was mellow and calm, with no hint of teasing or jest, just stoic laziness. Kiku would then pull out of his sleeves a rather thick paged field report. His eyes half closing, indicating a smile under his face mask. " I detailed it down to the sub species of grass, the number of species of insects i saw and the average number of them. I recorded each individual tree, that i gave each a name to remember me by, and i also detailed an encounter with that kid from the Sixth Division, I'm sure someone will want that combat analyses. " Kiku would open his eyes and then put the report in her arms, She ran off to file it for proper reporting.
Kiku would then wonder to his room, where he would take a very long nap.

 

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| Traveling from Southwest Into Central District |

Heavy footsteps against the surface of a thin, cobblestone pathway caused an echo to resonate through the outer reaches of the Southwestern District. The Seireitei in itself was massive, each district housing its own little city, even. He could have taken the scenic route, been a prodding soul and approach the gates towards the Central Seiretei from the southern end. This would’ve allowed him to see the presumably repaired structure of the Kuchiki Manor, an artifact of the events that transpired just months ago. It may not have been him that was involved, but the actions touch him—along with everyone else—all the same. One man’s arrogance lead to the corruption of the souls of a few good soldiers—great soldiers. Soldiers Higen couldn’t bring himself to look at in the same spectrum. His respect for them, tarnished; his tolerance to their presence, miniscule. Still, he’d be forced to look one of them in the face today. Higen was more than a Captain to most—a symbol—Seireitei’s very own Uncle Sam. In more ways than one he was indirectly used as a propaganda scheme, a hero to be the branding face of the Gotei 13’s strengths and morals. He must keep his composure, he cannot be flustered; he must be the Captain the Gotei 13 needs. There will ne no greater test, but he must prevail in the eyes of many. Hitsumishi will only be the partner to an honorable warrior, a man who appreciates and values all that doesn’t oppose him. His division members will only respect the Gleaming Knight that he has built himself up to be. And his fellow captains… value his purity above all else. When most are forced to make difficult decisions that may be deemed ruthless or unkind, Higen can always be counted on as the countermeasure to such dire circumstances.
The long path seemed never ending as the Captain was left alone to his thoughts with true concern for the possible blemishing of his image. To think, he’d have to explain what he saw through the cracked lens of the sky that shattered before him all that time to go, before he fell into a seemingly endless sleep. How would it seem, or sound? By now they’d think the Captain was going crazy, showing so many hints of traits outside of his norm. What he saw could not be denied or refuted by anyone else. He knew the face too well, he felt its torment in the abyss where time seemed not to move. No one could take that away from him, as much as he wanted it gone.
Finally he approached the entrance to the Central District through the gates of the West wall. Its distance from 10th Division genuinely was probably less than what most other Captains faced when traveling to the meeting, yet somehow it felt like an eternity. The space between gates became less, until he had fully reached the exterior threshold of 1st Division. Elevated far above the rest of the Seireitei it stood out in a momentous fashion. Nestled on the flat side of Sokyoku Hill was the palace-like building that encompassed the meeting hall. Higen’s sapphire orbs began to break their stillness from his wayward thoughts, and dart around to bring everything into his field of view. A set of Shinigami dot the final gate that leads to the true interior of the 1st Division. They are on guard like Higen had never seen before, most of them too young to recognize him from his previous time there but every now and again he catches a familiar glance. He nods as he passes through them unphased, entourageless.
Higen can count on one hand the times he’s been back to 1st Division since his promotion, but it had definitely lost its homeliness. Just like it was for most, the very air of the barracks was enough to create a thick cloud of tension. The murmurs of the crowds within did not help ease said tensions as eerie whispers conjured up gossip and foul-talk amongst the division’s members. Gossip and foul-talk was all it would be—however—as these men and women couldn’t possibly dream of what would actually transpire in the meeting hall.
It soon felt as if he was climbing the stairs to Olympus, but with much less reward. In no time he had reached the medium-sized opening before the Captain Hall’s entrance, and almost instantly he is met with an overbearing stench. It is thick, potent enough to consume the entirety of the courtyard. It shrouds his senses, drives him to a brief place of discomfort.. then agony. He is disgusted, it is putrid, it is filth. He pauses his steps, looking onward to the small crowd just before the hall’s entrance, only to identify its source: Captain Oda. His strong, Shinigami spirit diluted by something foul and weak. Higen refuses to glance his way; he couldn’t. Hidden behind the towering frames of the men was a little gremlin who made his time in 1st Difficult. Anyone but her. A simple thought, and while true there was a kindness to it. He had both respect and care for Lady Akarui, but she was a pain in his side. Captain Kojima’s smoke clouded the air as usual, but Higen couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to put the Cigar out before entering. His steps picked back up, slower now, he chose to tread carefully. He walked forward, wishing only to enter the door behind them all, and nothing else. As he found a simple gap between their persons, he’d utter under his breath just loud enough for them all to hear.
“Captains.”
Nothing else would escape his lips. A loose hand rose to gently place his large palm over top Akarui’s scalp, torturing her as he had once done often. He’d pay no mind to the white-haired Shinigami close to her, but instead begin to fixate his gaze onto Kyomu who he hadn’t even realized was in the room ahead. He wouldn’t wait outside, but enter immediately, hoping to get the meeting over in as little time as possible.