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The spectacle of the Commander’s arrival of course catches Suiyo’s attention, distracting him from the tall beautiful woman whose Grandma tried to hire him as an assassin. The confetti cannons and grandeur of the Commander’s entrance fascinates the drunk. Out in the Rukongai’s furthest reaches, something such as a cannon could save a village or just as easily wipe one from existence. To possess a weapon of this caliber is a sign of wealth and to fire off contained explosions of color in pure celebration and merriment is luxury only afforded out here by the Shiba clan. Having spent some time with members of the disgraced Shiba, Suiyo always admired their pyrotechnic ability, as well as the feats of engineering they were able to achieve with this knowledge, such as their great cannon. The demon drunk had never gotten a glimpse of the mighty structure, but it had always been on his bucket list to see.
“Now without further ado. . .”
Watching the streams of color flutter down from the sky, Suiyo smiles, a content and comfortable expression coming across his face. As far as he is concerned, wherever he is and whatever this is has been worth every moment. Not only did he spend the day drinking, feasting, and partying, but he has been able to see such feats of innovation as confetti cannons and video cameras, as well as two beautiful women. By the time the glimmer in Suiyo’s eye dies down, he wipes a single tear away and snaps back to his surroundings. Forgetting for a moment about the drink in his hand, Suiyo is eager for the reunion between the gourd and his lips. By this time, the Commander has nearly finished his speech, every word being lost on the white-haired fool.
Honoka Oki
Nibui Ueki
Yu Nakamoto “Gather to the left, you will be group one.”
He watches his potential bastard child get up from his sword meditation or whatever that was, and stand next to a white-coated boy with an angsty haircut. The young blondie in turn seems familiar with Suiyo’s maybe offspring, obviously having some form of crush on him. The blonde boy wears his sword on his back, the least most convenient place to keep it, meaning that Blondie’s the lesser swordsman between the two. The kid’s got a white-coat, but he’s literally soft, from his hands to his demeanor, has he ever even taken a life with that blade he clings to? This Kneebowie kid on the other hand obviously takes after his potential-father, a killer intent and fierce dedication to the art of the sword. What’s more, the ten metal rings wrapped around his fingers are immediately clocked by Suiyo. Inspecting their design, even from this distance, the drunk deduces that they must be used to suppress his Spiritual Energy in some way. The sheer amount of rings, should they act as seals, is also telling of the raw power this kid contains. It seems the white-haired boy is in his adolescence when it comes to the journey of the swordsman, if he depends on determination and power alone his skill with a blade will not be able to carry him against a tricky foe.
Joining the two boys is the woman who he was just talking to, but promptly ignored and forgot after the spectacle. He had initially been attracted to her beauty and grace, as well as her height, as he always has had a thing for taller girls. However, now that the context of battle has been realized, Suiyo looks at her in a different light. The wrinkles under her eyes and grey in her hair are but touches of time. However, they are not the product of aging, but the product of stress. The woman holds herself with great composure given the explosion of emotion contained behind her eyes. It seems indeed that she is a master of repressing powerful forces. Her entire persona is curated, a kindness used to mask her sadness, a politeness used to obscure her savagery. It is a tactic Suiyo is well familiar with, and it means that the woman has power and yet is defeated already. Could be that these little games will be a pick-me-up for her, a much needed win. Watching her go, Suiyo smiles and closes his single eye, holding up his gourd as though in cheers to her.
“Hey, good luck!”
Tenzen Oda
The name Oda does ring a bell, as they were prolific enough in the outer districts to make a name for themselves as relentless fighters, even among the more rugged types. Suiyo seems to recall some redhead guy with a crazy moustache some time ago, what was it a century ago? Five maybe? Either way the brute had caught wind of Suiyo’s reputation as the White Death, and thought to challenge him. After a brief fight, the drunk offered the redheaded Oda a challenge of his own, a drinking game. The night went on much longer than the fight, and by the end of it, the two might have called themselves friends. Unfortunately Suiyo had forgotten all about that night the next morning, and had never recalled it again until now.
Kyomu Mukuro
That name sounds so familiar. “Keyammo”, where had Suiyo heard it? Guess it doesn’t matter really. That last name Mukuro is all Suiyo needs to hear to know he's in trouble. It has only happened on rare occasion, maybe once every other century or so, but the Demon Drunk has come across his share of Mukuro assassins. Sometimes he stumbles into some political mess he had no business being in, other times a noble gets pissed off enough to hire one to kill him. Regardless, they’re always a pain in the ass to kill, trained to be as efficiently lethal as possible.
Suiyo Kusotare
“Hate to be that guy.”
The idea of fighting a relentless Oda and a murderous Mukuro sounds like a real chore. Suiyo can’t help but feel bad for whoever their opponent is, as the name doesn’t ring any sorta bells. Looking around, he’s surprised to find that none of the other contestants seem to respond to the name. Maybe he’s late or something?
“Gather to the right, you will be group two.”
It is only now that two figures approach Suiyo. Playing it casual, he sips from his drink, taking a long swig. As he drinks, his single eye slowly looks over to his left. There he sees a dark-skinned spikey-blond man with literally no eyebrows. Does he shave them? Is he born without them? His spikey hair and blonde goatee do nothing to conceal the fact that his brow ridge makes him look like the offspring between a man and a snake. Nearly choking on his drink, Suiyo plays it cool and lowers his gourd slowly. As he does so, he gently turns his head to the right, only to see another blondie with a goatee. Checking his eyebrows, Suiyo is relieved to see he looks like a normal person, until the stranger opens his glowing fucking eyes.“Those of you who remain, will be group three, and you can stay where you are.”Omoni Hageshi
Hiroka Ikari
Yasu Yugure
Shinotori Hitsugaya
“PFFFT”
Suiyo spits out the booze in his mouth in surprise. Omoni? Moni Omoni? She’s here too? What a shock it is to hear that name after so many centuries. Looking around, Suiyo spots the amazonian woman from before. No wonder she looked familiar, so much has changed since last he’d seen her, or maybe she just looked different in his unreliable memory. Still, the hulking frame and radiating enthusiasm she emits is unmistakable now. His lips contort into a twisted grin, as he shakes his gourd next to his ear, hearing how much of its contents he has left to share, and is pleased at the result. He turns from his lineup next to the snake creep and monk weirdo, and attempts to head towards her, holding up his drinking gourd like he just brought the goods to a party. However, behind his back, his sword appears to be drawn, though no one has been able to see the action, causing it to simply manifest in his hand. A cunning deception, it’s evident from the man’s demeanor that he intends to bait with honey and sweetness before striking the woman down.
“I wish you all the best of luck, but there can only be one Kenpachi!”
The roar of the crowd is lost on Suiyo, who is so entrenched with the idea of catching up with an old drinking buddy, that he once again forgets the setting he finds himself in. Unfortunately, the Kenpachi Games do not forget Suiyo, as before he can even take a step towards Omoni a whirlwind spirals to life around him. When it dies down, he and the two Captains find themselves in an entirely new place.
Now within the Muken, all that can be seen is a darkened abyss. The white-tiled floor only extends so far before it too is consumed by a shroud of black. The only objects to be seen for miles are the jagged spires of crystal which jut out randomly throughout the battlefield. Suiyo, taking note of this new place, cannot help but feel lost. This is after all, his first inter-dimensional travel since his transition from Human to Soul, and thus the first change in scenery he has had in over a thousand years.
“Did I black out? Ah hell, did I die again? This afterlife’s even crappier than the last.”
Scratching his head with the edge of his blade, Suiyo removes his pipe from his sleeve with his other hand and places it between his teeth, a gentle stream of clear grey rising from its wooden mouth. Taking a deep breath, he exhales steadily, steam coming from his nostrils like those old tengu fables. Honestly, a little quiet isn’t so bad after all the roaring and cheering they were just subjected to. Suiyo nods in contemplation of this peaceful moment, finding stillness in the dark. That is, until a weird mumbling catches his ear.
”Sprinkled on the bones of the beast. Carriage of thunder. Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring.”
Suiyo takes note of the strange mumbling man. It’s the glowing-eyed weirdo from before of course. He seems to be paranoid about something, his body lighting aflame with crimson fire, and while the construct is clearly spiritual, it doesn’t necessarily seem like reiatsu. Is he scared? Could it be dark? Is he scared of the dark? That’s embarrassing. This guy’s got two swords on him, and yet his hands are not that of a swordsman. The calluses around his index and thumb suggest that what swordsmanship he does use is more so focused on rapidly drawing and sheathing the blade. It’s rare for this guy to be in close quarters combat, by the looks of him. So maybe that’s what he’s scared of? Or wait, maybe he’s blind and it’s too quiet now. It seems that the sniveling Captain is praying! Reassuring himself in the dark!
With the mystery figured out, it is now on Suiyo’s shoulder’s to discover why the other man, the snake creep from before, is running in circles. Suiyo watches as the man hops and spins around, rotating his body to always match certain points, and creating afterimages in those places. It’s sort of silly to look at, but Suiyo’s not one to judge. It seems where the Oda was praying in fear, the Mukuro is instead just panicking. Running in circles is a good way to burn off energy and calm anxiety, but what was he so anxious about? There is no way that the two of them are both scared of the dark.
The mystery is solved when Suiyo takes note of the crystals. Specifically, one crystal spire only thirty feet away from the Oda. A hundred feet tall and perfectly smooth, the green crystal reflects the Oda’s red flaming aura. However, the brightness of the reflection does not match the waves of light that the red flames emit. On top of this, the crystal, while dimming the light of the flame, also hums ever so subtly louder than its ambient siblings. Suiyo then draws the conclusion that these spires are capable of absorbing and negating Spiritual Energy.
“You’re kidding.”
Immediately, he appears on the other end of the battlefield, blade sheathed, pipe in hand. Thirty feet away from the Oda, he stands right in front of the spire he had just observed. With his face mere inches from the crystal, he attempts to discern its molecular structure. This type of material would be worth a fortune in the Rukongai, maybe even more valuable than soul-stone. Placing his ear upon the surface, he listens to the gentle hum it emits. Attempting to feel the nuances in the vibration of each individual sound wave, he in essence seeks to discern its code. He then presses his tongue against it and licks the smooth crystalline surface.
Though Suiyo can hear the mumbling of the Oda’s prayer, the flow of Spiritual Energy that courses through him, though Suiyo can feel the tapping of Kyomu’s feet against the Muken’s ground, sense the the little pitter patter of his tippy toes as he sneakily makes his speed clones, though he can feel the killing intent radiating off of the two deadliest Captains in the Soul Society; only one thought comes to the Demon Drunk’s mind.
“It’s sweet?”
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