[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Rukongai


New member



Signy’s eyes bored into Suiyo as he made his way out of the bar due to all the sudden activity. An uneasy tightness blossomed in her chest. Though the feeling didn’t last long as Zhou responded to her.

“I will deliver these to him.”

She smiled as Zhou took the candy for Asahi. She’d always intended to extend and invitation to the candy making member of 3rd division for them to meet and discuss their shared passion. Now was her chance to get to know them and maybe add another confidante to her already small list of those she trusts. She could feel her husband’s eyes on her even if it'd been for but a moment, questioning how she was aware that he was a member of 3rd. The fact of the matter had been that she hadn’t been, at least she wasn’t certain when she asked. She’d heard whispers of a former member of 2nd transferring to the academy, and if he’d looked at her like she was crazy when she’d asked, she could have just brushed it off as being mistaken identity.

Her eyes flicked over to Honoka. She wanted to say something, offer her condolences for the fate of her clan, but she didn’t. Now was not the time for that, Signy could tell she was in a foul mood. However, as she rose to leave, Signy bowed her head. Though Honoka was now disgraced and even a criminal, she had still been the head lieutenant and it only felt right to show her the respect she’d earned.

Once alone with her husband, she merely stared down into the cup of sake before her. He’d been so sure that things went better than expected, but for her it only seemed worse. She would rather get this mysterious favor out of the way sooner than later. Her fingers gingerly cupped the small glass of alcohol for a moment.

”You should have known. Once a criminal, always a criminal. He’ll be the ruin of this family.”

Signy’s fingers clench, shattering the glass in an instance, sake soaking into the small cuts that now covered her fingers and palm. She hadn’t paid any mind to what elk had said to her. Instead, she rose from her chair and glanced down at him.

”Let’s just go. There’s no point in sticking around in here.”

As she made her way to the door, she picked the small shards of ceramics out of the cuts. Though she wanted to stay mad at her husband, she couldn’t bring herself to remain angry.




Staff member



The fading sunlight had yet to offer any refuge from the grueling heat. The thick dirt and cobblestone beneath their feet worked diligently to dilute the sweltering wave that had caused several beads of sweat to accumulate at the base of the Sloth’s forehead. His verdant orbs locked onto the bar before him, hardly acknowledging the many individuals as they fled the establishment. The Feng and Oki Outcasts to name a few, leave the bar, acknowledging the man subtly before parting to take their own separate paths. He does not respond, not intentionally, however. His focus is simply narrowed, engrossed by the armless wonder who had stumbled out of the bar shortly after the others. Every fiber of his being is taken into scope, gauged by the young Kyoraku with an inexorable stare. His stature and build, his rather mute frame. Without arms or hands he couldn’t truly identify what type of man, or fighter it was that stood before him. Had they shared the same calluses? Was the base of the skin on his—former—hands hardened akin to steel or iron like Musou’s own from a lifetime of holding a sword? Had his veins protruded more visibly closer to his wrist area; A product of acute blood tension required to consistently utilize quick changes of trajectory mid-swing? These are things—often identified by most swordsmen worth their mettle—that Musou had been robbed of discerning, but instead was forced to focus on his face.

The strong, chiseled structure of his jaw was—

Musou stops in his assessment as his nostrils flare, taking in the strong waft of alcohol once more.

—definitely a product of consistently using these facial muscles to drink. As Musou’s toothpick-like object between his lips hastily points upward, it somewhat imitates the stance of fire. The Jōdan-no-kamae, as it’s commonly called—A standard practice easily identified by its upward stature. It allows for extended reach and is naturally intimidating visually, allowing the practitioner to strike downward with oppressive force. Musou had done this subconsciously, and without even realizing it, this form was mimicked flawlessly by the simple sliding of his teeth against the wooden object. The Sloth couldn’t help but notice, just as the object in his mouth pointed upwards, the straw which the drunkard had used to reach his current state, shifted its position to a downward diagonal angle. Had it been a man with a sword, it’d be a representation of the Hidari Gedan no Kamae—the complete opposite stance of the Jōdan. Had the two, without ever meeting before, without the slightest knowledge of each other, naturally been prepared to fight, counter, or dismay anything at a moment’s notice that could come from an escalation of this event, without actually expecting it to escalate? Had their bodies, minds, and reflexes been so attuned to the response of an individual so close into their space, that they had formed reactionary habits always attempting to keep the upper hand? All of this, duly noted, encapsulated in the steel trap of the Nightmare.​

Wait, huh?

Upon hearing his interrogatory question, the white-haired male smiles amusingly, his face matching a demeanor that has been present since he walked out, and then turns about-face.

“Probably she’s in the-”



Low and Behold; The firecracker Shiba that he had been ruefully obligated to look after, appears from out of the bar that she frequents, bursting through the swing door and launching herself atop the White-Haired man. A red liquid erupts, though with his back turned it's hard to distinguish if it is blood or wine. She somewhat straddles his shoulder and neck area as she descends, taking the male with her and muffling his speech as she smothers him with her weight.

“Musoo! What took you so long?! I don’t think he remembers me at allllll.”

And of course—it had been hardly any time since she had sent him that message detailing her plans, and here she was, already inebriated a bit beyond her normal means.

“No reason to go away so soon! Think we got off on the wrong foot here, We don’t even gotta talk about the Zan! …let’s all just chill out and eat and drink!"


Perhaps she felt the tensions rising, at least on Musou’s end. The instinctive force of nature that was Kori was not incapable of such things, truly having a knack for reading a room, and reading people. The all-too-serious Musou still does not smile amidst this exchange, the grumbled, indistinguishable rumblings of the other drunk are muffled beneath Kori’s frame oppressing his.

"It’s been FOREVER you bastard! You used to let me ride on you all the time!”


“I seriously missed you ya know! You didn’t really forget did you?! It’s me! Kori!!!”


Musou’s brow raises in confusion and his face shifts immediately from concern to frustration and annoyance. Had she really dragged him all the way out here to catch up with an ex that, clearly hadn’t even had the decency to remember her? She was a walking example of bad decision-making, sure, but this was getting a bit out of hand. The Nurses clamor in the background, jealous murmurs heard against the wailing of a soft wind. Kori removes herself from being perched atop the man, giving him room to breathe, and now at the very least, speak.

“Shiba?! See, you turned out fine!

Perhaps he does remember. But the nature in which he responds doesn’t seem to be that of a lover, but of an awkward, elder figure of some kind. Perhaps he had known Kori in her youth, and simply pushed the boisterously oppressive child, now turned woman, to the back of his head. The nurses come to swoop the man up now that Kori was free of his immediate space, dusting him off and ensuring that he was free of any.. New blemishes on his garments. The act itself seemed futile considering his physical state as a result of his fight in the Kenpachi games. The straw is pursed back between the man’s lips, followed by a smug and, back-handed compliment.

“He’s uh, he seems alright too.”

I suppose that’s all it took to be alright in the eyes of this man, to ask someone a question. Still, this was not how Musou anticipated this event unfolding. The man was so lackadaisical and carefree it was unsettling, he seemed to lack the ability to show concern for anything concrete. Here he stood, infatuated and distracted by any and everything despite the fact that he was missing his two upper extremities. It was perplexing and contributed to something that was nearly impossible—throwing the Sloth off of his square.

“Eating, drinking, you’re my kind of people. This place blows though, let's gonna walk.

Without a moment’s notice, he’s off, walking into the sunset as the nurses work arduously to make sure his every need is met. On one end a nurse holds up roasted pork, still steaming hot, while the others all hold multiple jugs of alcohol in an assortment, helping him wash down the nourishing meat. Kori follows, and in response, so does Musou. With his sword slung over his shoulder still, the other rested and concealed within his obi sash, his geta clack against the pathway as dirt and dust stains his exposed ankles.

“So, whatchya wanna know?”

The question was undoubtedly for Kori although Musou was rather curious too, he waited for her to respond and as they trailed behind him, whispered to her beneath the sound of the drunkard chugging one of his many beverages.

“Just who is this guy?”



New member



Before Elk could respond to Signy’s decision to leave the bar, her Denreishinki X beeped from an incoming message. She fished it out from where she kept it in her Obi. With a quick skimming of the message, she grabbed Elk’s hand and sped off out of the bar. Only her and Atsuko held keys to Captain Asakura’s quarters, even then, Atsuko was the only one that ever went in there. The fact that Noi had to message Signy in the first place raised alarms for her.

Where had Atsuko gone!? Her hand tightened around Elk’s as her eyes and hair shifted. Concern filled Shori’s mind with each step closer to the 7th division barracks. While she could have just sent her keys with an unseated member of the division, she knew deep down that she had to be present because Atsuko wasn’t.

”I hope you don’t mind that I’m taking you to 7th division with me. Your captain needs to be let into Captain Asakura’s quarters and apparently Lt. Ise is unable to let him in.”

She glanced at him for a moment to assess if he was inebriated or not, unsure how Captain Oda would react to his subordinate being intoxicated. The hesitation was long enough to spur Signy into snapping in their mind, ”Get going already! Something feels off!” She was right, this whole situation felt off. Why did Captain Oda need to go into Itsuki’s quarters to begin with? Her fingers slid between his, to make sure she didn’t lose him along the way, before the disappeared from the streets of the Rukongai.


Rukongai --------------------- Northeast Seireitei







On the surface he had appeared a bit more laxed than usual, one can thank the Sake for that as he continued to lean back against the chair, balancing himself as he watched his wife stare down the sake that he had poured for her. He was anything but calm though, he was anxious about what happened here, even if it was just for a brief moment. The sight of Signy breaking glass had caused him to lose his balance and fall back onto the ground.


”Let’s just go. There’s no point in sticking around in here.”

He laid on the ground as she looked down at him, yet all he could do was blink and stare back at her as she spoke. He would reach up to see if she would help him up, yet she wouldn’t bother helping him, instead she chose to walk out the door. He couldn’t blame her, after all he did drop his last secret too her, if not the most dangerous one due to recent events. Yet still he was sure that him breaking this news to her was better than her finding out through someone else entirely. He sighed before pushing himself upwards and began to walk out the door, following suit of where his wife would be headed, while she picked out the glass that had been in her hand. As he began to brush himself off, he felt a hand grip onto him before being yoinked away, causing his head to shake unsure of what was happening while they ran out of the bar and onto the streets.

”I hope you don’t mind that I’m taking you to 7th division with me. Your captain needs to be let into Captain Asakura’s quarters and apparently Lt. Ise is unable to let him in.”

“OHHHHHH! Well I guess the Lieutenant is busy trying to get upskirt shots of women and shrugging her duties off once again! Also would be good to see the Captain again!”

He wasn’t a fan of the Lieutenant for the reasons he spoke of, and he has caught her in the past with some photos of his wife. Since then, he’s been weary of the lieutenant, and was relieved when he found out that the two personalities of his wife had chosen to leave 7th. Though his relief was a short lived one since she had chosen to go into 13th and from what he heard about 100 years ago? it was going to be rough.


-------------------to Northeast Seireitei!-------------->



New member




Shiba?! See, you turned out fine!”

Kori smirked at his forward words with pride. Early on she’d been bestowed blessing upon blessing when it came to her outward appearance, often becoming a welcome distraction for those around her. There was no way around it, Kori was Hot. With her bouncing breasts and jiggly rump, she had all of the natural advantages that she could handle. It didn’t bother her in the least that he complimented her, in fact she was elated he even managed to recall the precious time they’d spent together in the past and eventually her identity and her connection to him. All semblance of awkwardness was a thing of the past.

“He’s uh, he seems alright too.”

His next sentiment confused her for a moment but the equally drunken lady put two and two together and let out a laugh yet, said nothing to refute or substantiate his implication. Discussions about what Musou and Kori were to one another could wait for now.

“Eating, drinking, you’re my kind of people. This place blows though, let's gonna walk.”

Thus far, Kori’s plan had nearly gone off the rails but due to some quick albeit impaired thinking, she’d managed to get things back on track. Unbeknownst to the trio as they sauntered away, whether they were strolling or stumbling, they were in perfect synch with one another. The bunch were a motley crew maneuvering their way through the streets of the Rukongai with no clue that their meeting was an act of fate soon to set them on a spectacular journey! That’s not exactly true, the Shiba lady knew. She knew for a fact that what she’d been hoping to find for so many centuries had finally been discovered and started to put together an elaborate undertaking but it was gonna take a little more work on her part to see her plan to fruition.

“So, whatch'ya wanna know?”

“Just who is this guy?”

"Only the coolest guy you’re ever gonna meet and He’s the one. Now, just follow my lead!”

Musou appeared apathetic about the situation but that was completely in the norm for the sloth. His sharp whisper inquired as to who Suiyo was grated on Kori’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. With a hushed tone, she sought to ease his suspicions of the drunk while simultaneously letting him in on her connivance and her need for his cooperation moving forward. Kori was up to something and like everything involving her, it was sure to be one hell of an adventure.

"After you get your arms back- You ARE getting them back right?”

The Kenpachi Games had been something that she’d been looking forward to for years. Partly because she was curious about who would end up on top but more importantly, she was able to shamelessly indulge in her most fervent passion. Gambling. In the bars, roads and stands just about every single person had placed their bets on who was going to win each round and she had been one of the first to toss a hefty sum into the balance. All eyes had been glued to various screens projecting the three monumental matches but there was only one fight that Kori had invested what she considered to be the most valuable of her assets and that was her interest.

“DUH! Of course you are because you’re gonna need them if you’re ever gonna fix that Zanpakuto again.”

The second that she saw Suiyo’s image in the lineup of the competitors was when she started to concoct her game plan. Everywhere she looked, no one knew who he was. The geezer was someone that many hoped would end up dead, trampled like an ant by the clashing of the mighty captains trying their hand at the title of the strongest in the Seireitei. By all accounts, he was a complete stranger to everyone but her. At first, she could not believe her eyes as this no named nomad cut and ran circles around two of arguably the most proficient captains to have ever graced the Gotei Thirteen. The fight was exceptional from start to finish and the white death’s actions had shaken some of the faith that the spectators had in those leaders even though he’d ultimately forfeited. This resulted in apprehensive actions by the Captain of the fifth division and the impact he had on Tenzen Oda had been so great that he’d proceeded with the removal of Suiyo’s perilous limbs. Kori thoroughly hoped that he wouldn’t be without them for long because that’d throw a massive wrench into her machination.

Both she and Musou were seated officers of the eighth division. To be particular, she was the third seat and he was the fourth belonging to the division known for their innate ability to forge and repair Zanpakuto. Naturally, this was a strenuous process that sometimes put the very lives of the smiths in jeopardy and required twenty or more able bodied beings to perform it to perfection. The idea that one soul could do this with more prowess, expertness and dexterity than a hoard of professional workers was unimaginable yet, he had. Or he had claimed that he had. For too long, the eighth division had been without a captain and Kori, being the acting president, had been searching for someone worthy to take that mantle. Many had attempted to step up to the plate but were knocked back down the pegs they’d climbed before they could attempt the captain’s test by the stubborn Shiba. Not just anyone would do for the conductor of such an influential position that bore the responsibility of keeping the Shinigami of the Seiretei efficiently armed.

“It was so shitty of that monk to take them like that and right after you offered him a drink!”

Kori had been called a great number of things as she’d grown into the figured young lady that she was but a ‘fool’ was not one of them. Although it had been an extreme amount of time since she’d seen Suiyo, she knew that he wouldn’t be motivated to make such a drastic change by something as paltry as being promised that notability or the opportunity to fashion weapons for the Shinigami that he did not trust. If she went in that direction she figured he’d surely scoff at her and abandon both she and Musou to their own devices while he found something to keep him well inebriated and far away from her notion. It was gonna take a lot more than that but also a lot less. There was no doubt that even if a handful of the audience desired his destruction, a great many more wanted to harness his indisputable power for their own and were going to do their best to corner him with their offers sooner or later. However, Kori was familiar with the drunken bastard which put her in a much better spot than them. On top of that, she may have had in mind one of the only things that could get the lackadaisical Letcher to consider her proposition.

"Captain Oda’s a hard man to get close to. He’s always busy as hell and hardly has time for himself. Even if he wanted to, you’re nobody and there’s no way he’d have time to have a drink with you.”

As they walked, they were moving further and further away from the populated portion of the Rukongai. Soon it was just Suiyo, Musou and Kori free to converse as they pleased with no sign of intrusive eyes or ears to behold them. For now, they were alone besides Suiyo’s medical entourage who she was certain had burned eye-ball shaped holes into every inch of her by now.

"Buuut if you were somebody...you’d be able to meet with him and share those spirits! Maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all! Who knows, you could find out. Maybe he’s a seasoned drinker or maybe he’s a total lightweight. Say…”

Here it was. The moment of truth. She was about to suggest something that she didn’t think she’d ever advocate in her lifetime but it went without saying that she did so with every bit of her belief in him. Whether he refused or acquiesced, she felt the twinge of sweet adrenaline coursing through her veins and she knew she was going to get something thrilling out of their interaction. Though, part of her hoped that her question did not sully the relationship that had only begun to be rekindled. With her cheeks flushed red, she lifted her bottle of sake and took a leap of faith.

"You ever thought about being a Captain?”