[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Southeast Seireitei

[BSD]

Yasu had woken up in a cold sweat, clutching at the sheets that covered her body. Since coming back from the catastrophe within the Rukongai, Yasu had been mostly stuck in her lodgings for the majority of the past four days outside of performing at her Captain’s beck and call. Her body was in pain, and her head was killing her. Sitting up slowly, the lieutenant released a pained groan and hunched over, her pink hair hanging over her eyes in a disheveled mess.
The Gotei Thirteen was in shambles at the Central 46 massacre and the absence of their Captain-Commander. Since returning from the Rukongai, both she and her captain were bombarded with information regarding the events after the captain’s meeting. She wasn’t well-versed in the politics regarding the Central 46 outside of them handing out sentences without much of a trial for the offender and the Shinigami were at their doors when orders came to be. Outside of that, they’d gotten a new prisoner within the Maggot’s Nest. An old acquaintance, one Yasu was well familiar with considering she’d spent the majority of her academy years under his watchful eye. Ensō Aikawa had gotten himself into a rather gruesome situation, placed under arrest by the familiar Shusuke Kiyoshi from Sixth under the allegations of three murders within the Seventh Division.
Having met the infamous captain Itsuki Asakura after such a long time, Yasu wondered exactly what sort of reaction he had when he heard the news. Yet the image of him surrounded by bodies that day in the encampment told her he wouldn't bat an eye to the failures of his fallen subordinates. He was cloaked in the scent of blood and embers: clearly a man of chaos. Their rare meetings had always been short and curt, but the captain was cordial with her… well, as cordial as a man of his nature could be. From what stories she heard, the man related much to Captain Kaga-- Commander Kagayaki.
“That’s still weird to say...”
Speaking of prisoners, Yasu had thought back to their former third seat, Xiaolin. He’d managed to live under the graciousness of Kazumi Fujioka. Having tended to his wounds prolonged his life, but did not save him from facing punishment. Having lost both Kagewaki Hōmuru and Sakiko Nakama, this was one spoil from their constant battles that they could live on for the time being. Unknown to Yasu, her captain had been tasked with the retrieval of the escaped prisoners by the former Commander, less he failed, he would serve each their 96 sentences out year after year until completion.
Moving the covers off her body, Yasu crawls out of the warmth of her bed and settles herself on the cold floor, battling against the heat that crawls on her skin. There was a scheduled lieutenant’s meeting. While normally both captains and lieutenants would have their respective meetings on the same days, there’d been many incidents that prevented them from gathering up until this point in time. She’d given her report to Honoka long ago, and recalled the dark circles that painted the beauty’s features. Clearly she’d been through hell and back, and Yasu knew well enough not to pry. Sooner or later, she would have gotten the information that she wanted.
She’d managed to crawl towards the mirror within her room, idly gazing at her image. Outside of the drool that streamed out of the corner of her mouth, she looked alive. Quickly gathering herself, Yasu had readied herself for the day’s events soon to come. With the lieutenant’s meeting, she’d gotten word of a newly promoted Shingami from Thirteenth. Arashi Suta had yet to have his own welcoming admittance to the other lieutenants outside of herself. Jinnosuke Ūeku had also been promoted after fighting Nibui for the title of lieutenant. Forfeiting his position, the former had left to the Eighth Division. Yasu was unsure of how he was doing, but considering that there was no news of his death anywhere, he was doing better than most. The only lieutenants that would be the most familiar to her were between Omoni Hageshī of the Fourth Division, Fuyuko Kasumi of the Tenth Division, and Head Lieutenant Honoka Oki, but unlike Honoka, she hadn’t seen the other two for nearly half a year or so.
Stepping out of her room, Yasu crossed the path of a passing Shinigami who greeted her with a concerned gaze. They were well aware of their lieutenant's health and her problem. Several still lived in fear of her, or what was inside of her. Though she possessed no sort of hostility within her current standing, there was little harm in being wary of being in her path. A quick greeting and exchange of information was spent between the two of them. Having sent her notice to those of her division of her whereabouts, Yasu had climbed up onto the roof before gazing in the direction of Central and sped off.
Southeast ———————————— traveling to ———————————— Central

 

[BSD]

It had been less than a week now. Her Captain had returned within this time. A report finally given upon the orders of her lieutenant. A command that seemed years away. So little time had truly passed, however the pure chaos the Seireitei had been thrust into, along with the World of the Living, had made the clock seem to not move at all anymore. Included was the arrival of the man from Third Division, their newest arrival in the Maggot's Nest. A brief summary of the allegations as well as the procedures followed from the moment he was transferred into their care. Her demotion was made official, a strike she took without argument.
She had shown her bare throat to the man, offered him his chance to kill her in penance for her actions. Instead she had received a lower ranking. This was shameful in its own way, though in her eyes it was opportunity. Struck down she would be remembered for her failures. With life there was much she could do to prove herself. The seat did not matter. She could be unranked for all it mattered in her eyes. Her actions and honor reigned above this and both had wavered. Deserving of the public chagrin she had received. It was made all the more fitting by her continued inadequacy of keeping Sakiko safe. Perhaps they were aware of what had become of the girl upon her sudden disappearance but Kazumi had yet to hear a word of her fate.
Upon her return to Second, the weight of a fallen comrade in her arms, the woman had sat in the view of all with her head lowered in abashment. It was not the first time she had been in such a state within the barracks of Second. As she had nervously handled the transfer of their new prisoner she had wondered what misstep she would take to bring more humiliation upon herself. Perhaps it was time to find a dark corner of Second to slink into and become a faceless and forgotten entity. Such a position would not in itself be an awful place for her.
However.
She refused to allow herself to fall back until she had redeemed herself. The days had not been spent despondent. The Captain Commander had returned to the Muken. The Central 46 had been decimated. Chaos within the Rukongai and the World of the Living. It was not her time to hide. A request was made to her Captain for another position, her former stripped from her along with her rank. She found herself now with no formal tasks, no purpose. And so she carved out her own. She would train harder and longer. Would become the person she was meant to be and make her division proud. She would bring no more shame upon herself nor her squad. These were promises she gave to herself in the long silence of the nights she spent in deep thought.
In a different life, the small village she lived in saw little of the wars that raged about them. Few of their men were taken into the fray though many, especially the younger ones, dreamed of lives as samurai. Grand visions of riding into battle with fierce armor, striking down one foe after the other. Most too cowardly to make their thoughts a reality, they instead adopted customs they had learned through tales that spread about the village. Sparring in the fields with bamboo rods as they ignored their work. Attempting to meditate beneath the small waterfall near their homes that was more of a slow slosh of water upon one's shoulder than the harsh roar meant to be endured and overcome.
What struck her the most, however, was the cutting of their hair. Grown long and tied upon the tops of their heads, they would cut their locks in shame at any "defeat" they suffered. Reminiscent of the loss of a top knot, they mimicked this practice the most. Among the younger people of her village, the boys with short hair were often spurned by boys and girls alike, their shortcomings obvious to all. Kazumi's life had become nothing but dejection and isolation. Abuse at the hands of her ruthless husband. Her wounds were suffered in silence. A smile forced upon her face to the public. She had not been permitted to show her weakness. The dishonor she faced. Nor did she wish for the world to know. For how could she ever escape these afflictions?
This day. This moment. Kazumi had a choice. She would not hide. She would embrace where she had failed and learn from this. She would let the entire Seireitei be aware that she had not lived up to the standards that had been set for her. Penance would be given. But it would not come alone.

In the stillness and quiet of her room the only sound to be heard was the knife she held. Strands of hair falling to the tatami.
Kazumi would not fade into the dark. She would not allow her name to be remembered as a cautionary tale to those who came to Second from this day on. Every mission would be completed. Without fail. Without error. She would make her squad proud. uphold their name and stature. Not be the shameful member needed to be hid away. She would begin anew. Her hair would grow. Her pride would build. Her resolve would bolster. Her body would strengthen. Her heart would harden.
The timid woman would die. The resolve of one within the ranks of Second would take her place. Would show her worth. She would atone for every time she had erred and give no one in all of soul Society a reason to question her commitment or loyalty.
Her training to become faster and stronger had already begun yet been interrupted. She would train harder and longer. The amulet she now understood the significance of would stay on her person at all times. Her doubt, her fears, even her emotions would swarm into the large gem built into the charm. Nothing would be left behind but method. Logic and reason would rule over all else, a contrast to her previous behavior. No longer ruled by the concerns or worries of the pain inflicted upon others. A burden that weighed upon her when she had been in charge of extracting information from a prisoner. A weight that had refused to allow her to do what was necessary to gather the intel she needed faster.
These would not be an issue any longer. Kazumi had spent her human life hiding from the monsters. Lurking around all corners. Always in the shadows, ready to attack. Residing even in her own bed. She would not allow them to control the life she held now. There was a popular saying in the human world that warned of her current train of thought. Something about those who ought to fight monsters should fear becoming one. Perhaps it would be a thought worth considering if it weren't so necessary. For how could the meek woman ever hope to root out the corruption, the damage, the liars and the traitors...without being a beast they would fear?

 

[BSD]

Hidden between thickets of trees and nestled deep with the cavernous belly of earth is a special place… a prison for those deemed traitors to the Seireitei state and declared too dangerous to remain accessible to the public. In this wretched den of filth is perhaps the safest place for the former Third Division’s Enso Aikawa to be… especially after The Bloodhound Captain, Asakura Itsuki, had returned to find his precious pups slain cruelly and his base damaged by their final struggle against a tidal force so much grander than they could have handled. However, the force they faced was no more a molehill when compared to the mountainous monster which Itsuki embodied.
Itsuki, his broad smile barely concealing his rage, gleamed with a murderous grin at the guards affixed like wooden soldiers at the steel door. The Captain, and the guards as well, knew that this door did not protect the world from Enso. At this moment… This door protected Enso, and perhaps all the prisons damned to rot in the Maggot’s Nest, from a man who perhaps if weaker would belong among them.
“Now, now… I’m sure ya know who I am, and I’m sure ya know who ta’ Hell I’m ‘ere to see. Kakakaka…”
The Captain began; the furor in his raspy voice palpable. Even without his reiatsu leaking, which per usual had been suppressed to where he seemed no more a mirage to them, these trained Assassins could surely sense from his words alone the bestial appetite the Captain had in this moment. Even with his signature smile, his eyes veiled by mere lens told of incomparable rage… burning blue eyes entrenched in a sea of blood red as he remembered the scene he had come home to.
“...”
First the news came that his beloved and trusted Lieutenant, Hiyoko Ichibara, had contracted some sort of illness in his absence and died several days ago? His loyal sword and tenant to his principles for this last century had fallen? This was unimaginable… to believe that his most prized investigator and apostle had died so… blandly. He never in a thousand years would believe the vigorous and brilliant fire of her life-force could ever be so pathetically… snuffed out. A part of him didn’t believe it… rather a part of him couldn’t believe it. The Captain stood upon the threshold of his ruined barracks and… clenched his chest. If he tore this pitiful thing out, would the pain stop? As depressed as the Captain became, as deep and demented as his soul twisted with grief, he had to fight back the tears for the moment… now was not the time for emotion. He had work to do… and so despite his every instinct telling him to take a moment to indulge in human grief… he continued forward into the portrait of destruction that he once called home. Neither the blood stains had dried nor had the stench of death yet to fade, and so Itsuki beheld the echoes of death left by those supposed to inherit the dying will of Hiyoko… The Captain grew rigid, his stillness only comparable to that of a scarecrow. He’d heard of the crimes of Enso when he had submitted his own report earlier, but that did not prevent the emotionally intelligent & unhinged Itsuki from indulging in his deepest and darkest emotions as he gazed upon the chaos.
In this moment, Itsuki toiled within his own rage. His own expression blank as he begun canvassing the scene of ruination; a coral mist throbbing from him in tandem with his beating heart. This was a rare moment… when the curtain gets peeled back just enough to allow those nearby to gaze upon a fragment of one of the most dangerous wells of power within the Soul Society.
“Asakura-Taichou!”
A great howl shook the muddled mind of the Captain free from his own swirling darkness and upon looking up from the destruction Itsuki saw them; scattered among the ruins like crows. The remaining force of the Seventh Division; hundreds of faceless Soldiers who like Itsuki were shaken from this deep atrocity. While none of them could pass the rigorous process to become a seated Officer of the Seventh Division, these were still the precious fledging of Itsuki… and so his hands which had unconsciously balled into fists slackened… and the rare apathetic non-expression that signified his disassociation was replaced with a smile… though rather than his typical doggish grin this smile seemed more akin to a pained & gentle grimace; the very same a parent would wear to hide their own dysfunction from their child.
“Dogs of the Seventh, y’all ‘ave done so good to survive t’day. I’m so proud of y’all…”
The Captain began as he scanned both the ruins and his shaken survivors. He gnashed his bottom lip for but a moment, reflecting on his thoughts as he continued to preach to his masses.
“Ye had ta’ survive without me for longer ‘den expected, but I’m back… and dis shit? It ain’t gon’ fly.”
As the Captain spoke he gestured with his arms, still stained in the blood of the bandits he’d dismantled earlier that day, towards the defilement of their own lodging. A clear hitch in his voice, an obvious sign of his own engorging rage.
“We are ‘da noble Dogs of da’ Seventh. We are da’ protectors of the Rukongai. An attack on any of us is an attack on all of us… and I ain’t too fucking fond of bein’ attacked. How about y’all?”
Itsuki fell silent, letting the dogs of his division howl in agreement. They were obviously frightened by the epic battle that had claimed three of their siblings… and Itsuki didn’t blame them. Itsuki hadn’t even recruited many of these soldiers, despite him being the Captain for centuries, including those poor dogs who had been slaughtered by the maniacal Third Division Shinigami. The three who had passed away were placed in their positions by Hiyoko in the waning moments of her life. The Blooudhound could only imagine she had planned to sculpt them into Soldiers worthy of the seated position. As his soldiers continued to clamor and rile themselves into a stupor Itsuki had grown weary, he had let his soldiers yip long enough, and with a sudden jolt upwards of his hand the masses which crooned and cawed relentlessly fell deathly still. Itsuki remaining the solely animated figure in the destruction's epicenter, his loyal soldiers looking upon their leader with an almost glazed expression of fever and delight… they had become infected. These poor mutts had drawn too close to their Captain, and like the wings of Icarus they too suffered consequences… They were ecstatic! Even if they didn’t want to be…
“We will rise from dis… bury a dog by ‘da head and it’ll come back and haunt ‘cha… NOW CLEAN YERSELVES UP AND WORK WIT’ THE OTHER DIVISIONS TA’ CLEAN ‘DIS MESS THE FUCK UP.”
Itsuki barked. The big dog was home, and the puppies of the Seventh were obviously more than delighted to have direction, even if the delight was an unnatural sensation fed to them from their Leader's quite literally intoxicating presence.
As the legion fled into the surroundings Itsuki alone remained in the epicenter. The Captain closing his eyes began to search the surroundings… his own sensory ability granting him the security that not a single soul was close enough to gaze upon him… and so assured by the fact that he was alone he began to laugh.
“KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA!”
It was a deep… unhinged laughter both guttural and riddled with a hearty sorrow. The monstrous cackle bled into the otherwise silent air and echoed with such an eeriness that even the skin of Demons would crawl. The Captain clutched at his chest and continued his unabated laughter, roaring out between cackles.
“KAKAKAKA I FUCKIN’ HATE WHEN IT RAINS! KAKAKAKAKA”
The rain he spoke of never came, instead tears stained with the blood from old wounds reopened by his deep stress cascaded from his weary eyes. Many soldiers often found emotion to be unbecoming, especially of those who wear the very haori that weighs so heavily on the Captain’s back, and so quickly he stowed the tsunami of emotion back deep within him. Though the brief flare was enough to garner the attention of his most attentive companion… his beloved Itobeni took this moment of mental weakness to draw the Captain into its Inner World… and before Itsuki could reject the invitation heralded by a deep throbbing migraine in his temple… the world around him bled… images and colors like cheap paint melting away. Was this all his reality amounted to? A cheap portrait easily painted over? Itsuki couldn’t help but lament this, as suddenly the ruined Seventh Division barracks had become been distorted… no… Itsuki had been displaced. In the place of his barracks was now a brilliant wooden Pagoda that stretched in a starless dark sky, in place of stale air & the scent of putrid flesh was now fierce winds riddled with rain & the deep cleansing salty breeze of a sea he could never see but knew churned beneath him. The Captain stood upon the familiar wooden bridge and waited to be greeted, knowing all too well that in this world he could not move a muscle except under “special” circumstances.
“Kekekekekeke… The itsy bitsy Spider is all worn out?”
A familiar voice burrowed deep into the mind of Itsuki, invasive and unsettling, this was his “beloved” Itobeni. It didn’t show itself, and Itsuki per usual was left unable to move a single muscle in the domain of his Zanpaktou; almost as if invisible ropes saddled him in place like some sort of freak show.
“Show yerself, asshole...”
Groaned Itsuki in his own mind. The Captain had always disliked dealing with Itobeni when they couldn’t see them… it always brought the anxiety and paranoia of the Bloodhound to climactic levels; and Itobeni knew this, something Itsuki also knew they enjoyed.
“Now, that isn’t anyway to ask someone for something, and here I was… so concerned about my dear Itsy bitsy spider.~”
Itobeni lacked a voice when he spoke directly into Itsuki like this, and so in the Captain's mind this was his own voice… speaking both unlike him and with thoughts unbecoming of him. It was moments like this that made Itsuki genuinely believe that perhaps he is crazy.
“Now that’s not fair, the best of us are crazy, if you weren’t… the world would never change~”
Itobeni said musically into Itsuki’s mind, obviously not even caring for the sanctity of his private thoughts. The Captain, now drenched from the rains of the Inner World, grew impatient with his Zanpaktou and responded
“You ain’t the fuckin’ kind ta’ pull dis sort of stunt fer no reason, ‘da fuck do ya want?”
Itsuki demanded of his Zanpaktou Spirit, and with that suddenly an invisible wave cascaded over him. The Captain had suddenly found himself brought down to a single knee by a force he could neither see nor understand.
“Kekekekeke, and here I wanted you on both…”
Itobeni began before being quickly cut off by the sound of… laughter. Itsuki had found the easiest way to overwhelm his Zanpaktou was to simply overpower the urges… the thoughts it embedded into him and laughter as they say… is the best medicine.
“KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA”
As his laughter churned seemingly endlessly in his mind suddenly the spectral weight had begun to lessen and the drenched Captain rose to his feet once more… but unlike before a smile had become etched on his otherwise perpetually frozen face, a testament to his ability to bite back and outmaneuver a Zanpaktou that like it’s partner seeks absolute domination.
“My big strong spider…~”
Itobeni began, but not from within the head of Itsuki. Instead the bald short specter appeared just within the doorway of the Pagoda that Itsuki can never step towards. Their robotic monotone is at least a leg up from borrowing Itsuki’s voice, though their smile was definitely something to be worked on. The Captain, despite being known for his own deranged grin, always found the smile of his Spirit dimensions more unsettling. Perhaps it was their blackened eyes with milky white pupils or greyed skin… something about this diminutive creature clad in a slab of cloth nearly the color of its skin was off putting to this man unfettered by some of the most gruesome scenes. Though the Sherlock-esque mind of Itsuki could never quite put his finger on what it was. Instead though he decided to focus on why the Spirit decided to drag him into the belly of their Inner World.
“Itobeni, ya little prick, why da’ fuck are ye dragging me in here? Fess ‘da fuck up already…”
Itsuki shot daggers towards the Spirit with his eyes as he remained unable to speak, forced to communicate with the Spirit through his own defiled mind.
“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout… down came the rain and now the spider got washed out. Beware the laughter, the water, and the spout, my silly spider don’t you dare try to shout.~”
Itobeni sang into their Partner’s mind with an eerie tune. Itsuki tried to rip free from the translucent bondage that bound him in his place but this time the moment he began to free himself… the rain had stopped. Itobeni wasn’t the sort to tolerate this blatant disrespect and so before Itsuki could move a single muscle the world around him twisted into a kaleidoscope of colors before reforming seconds later into the Soul Society.
“Da laughter? Water? Spout? Ya fuckin’ senile ole coot... “
Itsuki moaned as he checked his own shadow; using it as a means to tell how much time had passed. The Captain scoffed, not even a second had passed since Itsuki had been absorbed into the domain of his Zanpaktou, but the Captain had to thank the Spirit… despite it’s limericks and nonsensically torturous means of communication Itobeni knew what Itsuki needed to sate his sanity and fight back his downfall from emotion. The Bloodhound needs a purpose; a mission. Itobeni and Itsuki often worked two sides of the same coin, many times Itobeni becoming more akin to a reader than a member of the story. It is this detached third party view devoid of emotion… these words that both weigh heavily yet wield no purpose until realized that inspire The Bloodhound to continue his hunt.
The emotions that once cycloned around the Captain, the very feelings of despair and rage that threatened his unraveling were now no longer empowered, instead his deep tenacious desire to unravel mysteries consumed him. It is this very desire that would lead him on the fourth day of his return to The Maggot’s Nest.
The Captain stood before the sentries of the nest, he knew much like the dogs of his own Division those who cater to the particular needs of this nest were loyal to the infamous Assassin Captain of the Mukuro clan. The Bloodhound wondered though… was the shadowy presence of his fellow Captain already lingering around? Despite his own suppressed presence, he is sure the Assassin Captain would be aware of the Investigator approaching a piece of his own domain.
“If ya ain’t gon’ let me through, call yer Master down here. Lil ol’ me can wait… though not too long. Kakakakakakakaka.~”
Itsuki teased with a deep drawl. His tongue flickering in amusement as each word dripped with what could only be described as an exaggerated excitement; whether Itsuki was truly seeking to entertain or not was totally indiscernible, as even a clown with the largest of smiles can often have the deepest melancholy.
Even without his beloved Itobeni in his hands, Itsuki was still a master of untold caliber in the art of sensory and wasn’t particularly concerned about some sort of ambush, in part due to him making sure any genuine aggression on his part was… squashed tenfold into himself. Despite his bloodied and rageful eyes gazing demonically past the guards and into the nest the Captain was more than intelligent enough to resist the animalistic urge to storm the Maggot’s Nest; he had questions, and before his own desires came the greater justice for the Soul Society.
He had to know… did this Agent act under the impulses of chaos or did something guide his hand? Was he remotely connected to the Garganta? Did he attack the Seventh Division to destroy something recently recorded in their archive? Itobeni was surely right that something wasn't quite right with this situation... and Itsuki rather becoming consumed by his grief is choosing to be consumed by his work. He hadn't yet found anything beyond his own cases and a few select other cases in the remaining archive that would be worth stealing, and yet that information was entirely untouched from their entombment in his safe within the barracks. What was going on? Even the great detective mind of Asakura Itsuki wasn't entirely sure yet but The Bloodhound was riled up... and he would sniff out this mystery in pursuit of justice until his dying day; this is the Seventh Division's way.

 

[BSD]

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Kyomu sits, seemingly alone within the main hall of the Second Division barracks. He is surrounded by silence and shadows, and filled with memories, thoughts, relief, regrets and confusion. Over the course of four days he had fulfilled his obligation, completed his task and as a result, saved his own skin. The prisoners had been located, some brought back breathing, others were less fortunate. It was only upon his return did he learn of the incident that took place in the hall of the Central 46, the lives that were taken and the blood that was shed. He is reminded of the voices of his inner demons, the ghosts of the elders he’d slain.
They had chastised the young Captain, accusing him of slaying his masters in favor of another master. Now, he learns that that same alleged master had taken the lives of his former employers, and now sits imprisoned in the Muken. Kyomu sits torn, though he had resolved to live on as a Captain above that of an assassin, he cannot help feel confusion and regret. Would all of this have happened even if he had not killed off his own kin? If so, then for what reason had he drawn his sword against his own? He had spent the entirety of his existence lying and killing in the service of liars and killers, and now he was truly lost.
He glances at his zanpakuto as it rests upon the ground beside him. His weathered mind drifts to the thought of Kagewaki’s body, his life lost thanks to the foolishness and stupidity of Xiaolin who now resides in the Nest of Maggots, the warden turned inmate. Then there was the timid and easily frightened now AWOL Sakiko. He’d continue to search for her, rather it be to retrieve her corpse, or...to turn her into one for betrayal. Given Kazumi’s report and that of his Lieutenant’s he assessed the former was still enslaved to her doubts and insecurities. No matter, she no longer held a position of authority within the barracks. She was presented with the opportunity to unlearn herself while simultaneously learning from those who led their own squads within the Omnitsukido, or she would fade into the wind in both form and memory.
”Captain.”

From above, submerged in shadow and darkness were the agents of the Omnitsukido. They spoke as one, drawing the attention of their master from his wandering thoughts. He says nothing in response, but they understand their Captain is a man of few words. They pause for but a moment before reporting to him.
”Captain Itsuki Asakura of the Seventh Division has entered the grounds. Given his trajectory and pace he seems to be headed for the Maggots Nest in a hurry. Your orders sir.”
Kyomu remains seated, eyes glancing off to the side for a moment, and then towards his zanpakuto.
”....”
The members of the stealth force, blanketed by shadow and anonymity had forewarned the guards at the nest of Captain Asakura’s impending arrival. They stood at the ready, a paltry force in comparison to the Captain for sure. They didn’t need to ask or wonder what the Seventh Division Captain was doing there knocking at their door. News of the incident at the barracks was all over, and it was evident he had learned the prime suspect was imprisoned in the Nest. Still, they couldn’t let anyone enter without proper clearance and approval, they couldn’t risk another prison break like that brought about Xiaolin’s negligence, they couldn’t blindly trust everyone who donned the Haori lest they find themselves fooled as former Captain Sosuke and his entourage had deceived the entirety of the Gotei 13.
Despite the Captain keeping his reiatsu pulled back and suppressed there was no denying the oppressive force that wafted off him in waves. The man was undoubtedly a frightening existence, and they feared what would happen should he choose to force his way through them...but they feared their Captain even more.
“If ya ain’t gon’ let me through, call yer Master down here. Lil ol’ me can wait… though not too long. Kakakakakakakaka.~”
The Captain’s southern drawl called out, his elongated tongue wagging about in the air, not unlike his namesake.
”Since when did the Omnitsukido need to hurry at your command Captain Asakura?”

Captain Mukuro’s disembodied voice calls out from behind his massive peer while the phantom’s form conversely appears before him, lips unmoving as if Kyomu had been standing before his subordinates all along. Lacking an inkling of reiatsu, no presence to be felt, no signs of movement or even breathing, the Phantom seemed more a projection rather than a physical body standing before Itsuki. At the sight of their Commander-in-Chief the agents of the stealth force were able to breathe a bit easier. Kyomu’s amber hues stared at Itsuki’s own lens covered eyes. It was impossible to tell what one thought of the other with just a glance, from Itsuki’s exaggerated expressions to Kyomu’s apathetic mask the two were near impossible to gauge or read. Having clashed with his fellow Captains before, would Kyomu be forced to clash with yet another peer today?

 

[BSD]

”Since when did the Omnitsukido need to hurry at your command Captain Asakura?”
A familiar sound rang from nowhere… and yet it echoed out from everywhere…? The disembodied call from someone who could remain undetected by Itsuki? His skin crawled with excitement as he recognized this voice… It was the Speedster of the Second Division, an assassin among assassins— Mukuro Kyomu, a man who like Itsuki is a monster bound by the weight of the haori. Itsuki couldn’t resist it… his eyes narrowing excitedly as his doggish grin grew ever wider. Itsuki’s hairless brow arched amusedly in response as the Phantom-esque Captain flickered into existence… now blocking the Bloodhound’s path to the Maggots Nest as he stood between two members of his shadowy legion. Itsuki couldn’t help but liken the man to a crow and these his fledgling chicks, Itsuki was more than aware that often times the very image of Kyomu before oneself harbingered the entrenching embrace of Death-- just like a crow. His fellow Captain had appeared without a sound or monicrum of energy heralding his approach, and Itsuki couldn’t help but ponder if the creature before him was truly the fabled Assassin or merely a specter conjured from his otherworldly swiftness— though Itsuki decidedly would restrain himself, his eyes widening as he put aside his own desires for the sake of justice. This was neither the time nor the place for him to indulge in his own fanciful flights of mystery and mayhem.
“C’mon, don’t cha act like ya weren’t aware I was headin’ ‘ere before I even got ‘ere. Hell, I reckon ya’ve been lurkin’ ‘ere waiting for lil ole me to speak”
Itsuki began, as he spoke the Seventh Division Captain shifted, his arms outstretched before him and his hands grasping the very air before him in what could only be described as a diabolically evil manner; often instances like this would make those around him misinterpret the energy and excitement of Itsuki as genuinely deranged and sinister. The soldiers of the Nest may lack the ability to see past the facade of diabolical body language, but Itsuki was confident that the man closest to his own personality… this actor among actors who wears a mask of apathy as Itsuki does insanity, could easily peer beyond the veil of madness the fevered Bloodhound presented to all— because beyond a reason of a doubt Itsuki’s worn & obviously sleepless eyes told a somber tale of a man both driven and understanding of failure.

“Now… I’ma reasonable guy, I reckon ya know I’m ‘ere for Aikawa-chan, I want ‘ta interrogate him. I dun’ give a rat’s ass if its in ‘da Nest with ya’ riding shotgun or ya can take ‘em out and we can bring ‘im somewhere yer more… comfortable. So what say ye?”
Itsuki concluded, his predatory gaze though appearing innocently gleaming was a careful one… the Investigator fixated on the every detail of Kyomu whilst his other senses remained sharply attuned to the world around him. As confident as the Captain may seem, as crass his language may come across, he is still more than aware that Kyomu holds absolute authority in this shadowy realm of killers and secrets. More than anything else in this moment, Itsuki resigned himself to cooperation, and though he had his own desires, both his bestial heart and spiraling mind realized... that this was not the time to ignite a conflict between Captains… the Soul Society needed mending with answers, not greater destruction by his tenacious pursuit of questions. Itsuki was a hound dog spurred on by his desires, deadly and unyielding in his pursuit, but before himself he is a Soldier… a Dog of the State who will always put the many before the few. In the eyes of Itsuki… the law was absolute, and he fully understood that in the domain of the Second… Kyomu is the law.