[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Southeast Seireitei
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BSD
Administrator
CLACK
CLACK
CLACK
The sound of tapping and clacking along a wooden surface. It is the only sound that occupies the space of the room. The sounds are inconsistent in their arrival, sometimes minutes apart and other times, mere seconds pass between them.
CLACK
CLACK
CLACK
Sitting atop a Go board was the evidence of a fierce battle, the black and white stones facing off one against the other, each piece vying for more territory atop the board. Dark fingers place another white stone onto the board, several minutes pass before the same fingers claim a black stone, placing it elsewhere atop the board. So the battle rages on, back and forth — neither side backing from the other. It is a battle that transpires within the office of Captain Kyomu Mukuro. At the Captain’s desk sits the Phantom, occupying two spaces simultaneously. It becomes clear that Kyomu is engrossed in a battle with none other than himself. His movements, imperceptible to even the most astute. It is as if the assassin had cloned himself, both versions of himself studying both the board and each other as they make their respective moves. To a layman, this is perhaps a sign of insanity. The Captain’s previous culling of his division one hundred years ago, combined with his most trusted subordinate, confidant...family, leaving him to lead another division. Now here he sits, occupying his time, his energy by indulging in a mere game with none save himself.
Those who would believe the Captain mad are mere fools. The Captain knows that no matter how swift his movements, no matter how sharp his blade or how great his skills, they were all useless if his mind was not as equally sharp or honed. He splits his focus, divides his attention, his thoughts as he simultaneously attacks and defends from various angles. He’s played over a thousand games, and gone through an even greater number of strategies. The Phantom secures another white stone, and stays his hand as he studies the board littered with stones of black and white. There were very few places on the board left untouched, unclaimed by either side. His mind traces back to that moment a century ago.
His ears still hear the screams of his men as they were cut down by their comrades in arms, the sound of steel clashing with steel, then of steel piercing and cutting flesh. The smell of blood and the stench of death clinging to the ground and walls like flesh to bone. He watched as they slaughtered one another...by his command. Then, the unexpected occurred.
“Taichou...”
Even amongst the cacophonous sounds of violence and death, of blood and steel he could still make out the quiet voice of his Lieutenant, the one who held his trust above all others. Was his right hand taken aback by his actions? Appalled by his orders? He was certain she had grown tougher and more steeled over the years under his tutelage. Surely something like this was not enough to turn her, to make her question his judgement.
“I want to thank you for teaching me everything I know. This may not be the best time, but I’m sure that if it doesn’t come out now, I don’t know when I’ll be able to face you in the future.”
Her words cryptic to the man, puzzling even. She was beating around the bush, skating around the topic of what it is she wished to discuss that could not wait another day, another moment.
“I will be taking my leave from your care and test for Captaincy. Things have changed, and I can’t exactly have you worrying about me all the time anymore… My actions can’t keep hindering you, and I knew that I would have to eventually grow up sometime.”
His eyes twitch at the news, yet the cold mask of apathy did not recede or falter. His mind finds itself reminded of the words of the elders he had slaughtered at Murasaki’s commands, the ghosts that haunted his thoughts, his dreams. They told him, warned him that she would leave him as others had left him, that none but his kin would remain. He had pushed those voices aside, dismissed them even. She had been by his side all this time, when all others questioned him, suspected him, or would turn their backs on him he knew that Yasu would remain...or, so he thought.
The moments of her absence while she braved the test, were like an eternity to the young Captain. He had thought to go see, to watch her performance yet he stopped himself, denied himself that privilege. At the completion of her test, he had learned of her results. He heard that she had lost a limb in her battle against the Fairy and was subsequently hospitalized in the barracks of the Fourth. He knew she’d recover well enough, and that their time together was truly at an end now. He was truly alone now, for the first time in a long time.
“I passed.”
He had been aware of her arrival once she neared the barrack gates, ventured into their grounds and brought herself before him. He knew what she had come to say already. He remained silent as if ignoring the girl, a subordinate turned peer.
“I see.”
All he offered her in response to such momentous news. Someone he had personally trained and raised up succeeded where many had failed, attained the title that was sought after by countless individuals to enter the academy and don a shihakusho. Yasu had reached her goal, and all he could say was..I see.
“Then go to your squad, Captain.”
He dismisses the girl. This place was no longer where she should be, these grounds which held such familiarity to her were now foreign lands. She rises up, leaving a gift in her wake as she departs. She leaves behind the Division which had sculpted her, the Captain who had trained her to begin a new journey. Several minutes pass by and still Kyomu remains frozen in time, sitting in silence until-
”Well done, Yasu.”
Congratulatory words of affection, traveling on a saddened voice that would never reach the ears of the girl. The box of strawberry flavored pocky that had been resting on the ground now held in the Captain’s hand. He stares at them, his expression veiled by shadow.
CLACK
He places the white stone down, cutting off the advance of the black pieces on that section of the board.
”Report.”
A figure, birthed and molded from the darkness of the shadows cast behind the Phantom steps forward, staying to his Captain’s rear. Kyomu’s eyes never breaks away from the object of his visual focus, he does nothing else further to acknowledge the man’s presence, or lack thereof.
”Sir, the Vizards Captain Tenzen Oda of Fifth Division, Lieutenant Arashi Suta of Fifth Division, and...Captain Yasu Yugure of Ninth Division were all summoned to the First Division Barracks where they’ve remained.”
Kyomu is silent as he reflects on the implications of this report. I recalls the last Captain’s meeting they had with former Commander Shobatsu Murasaki, and his words to Tenzen.
”What else?”
There is no fluctuation in his voice or tone, not even at the mention of his former Lieutenant. It was as if the news held little interest to the Captain.
”Former Third Seat and Warden Xiaolin remains secured in the Maggots Nest.”
”Any change in his condition?”
”None Sir. He’s alive but...it's as if a piece of him is missing. It's...hard to describe.”
Along with Kagawaki’s corpse, Xiaolin’s beaten and tortured body was also retrieved from the Rukongai. Two bodies, one dead, the other alive but useless. He had gained no further intel from Xiaolin who had gone AWOL, and it didn’t seem as if he’d gain anything from him in the near future. Xiaolin’s failure, Yasu’s departure have ensured that for the past Century both the position of Lieutenant and Third Seat have gone unoccupied.
”And what of Sakiko? What have you learned of her disappearance?”
The agent pauses, hesitant to speak. He knows how his Captain detests failure. Should he report their lack of progress regarding this matter...he swallowed hard at the thought, his imagination hard at work on the horrors that lay before him. He knew he had little choice but to speak, to hold his silence, to keep the Captain waiting any longer was also a death sentence in and of itself.
”There has been...little progress in that matter sir. We’ve still yet to determine if she was killed, kidnapped, if she’s defected or gone AWOL.”
CLACK
Kyomu continues his game, a black stone piece placed upon the board. Throughout this the Stealth Force Agent has done relatively well in restraining himself from reacting to the sight of two versions of his Captain before him, as the game of Go proceeds unhindered. He understands that this is nothing more than a display of his Captain’s speed, and that alone is terrifying as there exists no signs of any movements aside from moving the respective stone pieces. Neither Kyomu ever leaves his sight, neither image ever distorts or shows any signs of implication betraying when Kyomu transitions from one side of the table to the other.
”What of Kazumi? Has she shown any signs of venturing towards the Rukongai? Any evidence she might be secretly harboring Sakiko or aiding her in any way?”
As far as he or anyone knew, Kazumi whom he had dismissed from his Division was the last person to see Sakiko alive, and is allegedly the one who reported to Yasu of Sakiko’s disappearance. It was reasonable to hold some level of suspicion of the girl.
”No Sir. She’s gone to no suspicious places nor have her actions done anything to draw attention to herself really. Though, if I may be so bold. Are you certain we shouldn’t have the interrogation unit bring her in for...questioning?”
The interrogation unit. It was a unit spear headed by the fourth seat of the Second Division, the same unit Kazumi herself was once Commander of prior to her demotion. Though they used the term “interrogation” everyone knew what they truly did there. It was torture. They subjected all manner of physical, spiritual and psychological pain and trauma to their “guests” until they gave up the information they sought. If the person was truly innocent and died, well...so be it.
”...No. She remains untouched. She returned Kagawaki’s body to us, and for that I am grateful. Other than that, she’s become a subordinate of Yasu. If Kazumi was doing anything that would harm me or this Division, Yasu would have contacted me the moment she noticed.”
Though he has made no effort to contact or speak with Yasu since her promotion, his words alone were evidence of how much he still trusted her, rather he knew it or not.
”But Sir, Yasu hasn’t been among us in so long, perhaps she wouldn't notice. I thin-”
His words are cut off as his body finds itself ensnared by a blue serpent composed entirely from his Captain’s spiritual pressure. The serpent’s body tightens around the man, constricting him tautly, his feet slightly elevated off the ground. Eyes widened, the foolish man instantly regretting voicing his thoughts, his disagreement to the Captain. Kyomu, despite being the orchestrator of the man’s torment appears unphased, still slouched over studying the board.
CRUUUUUUNCH
POP
The sound of cracking and popping resound behind the Phantom as the serpent constricts around the man tighter. Kyomu in turn, remains hunched over studying the board, assessing the pieces on the board, the number of moves he’s made, working to ascertain the next best move, to devise the best strategy.
CRACK
A pained shout is choked out from the man, following the sound of cracking bone being snapped like a twig. His punishment isn’t over as still, the serpent squeeze’s tighter. Beneath the fabric covering his face, veiling his identity, what little can be seen becomes discolored. Blood begins to seep into the cloth around his mouth and nose, signs of something rupturing internally. Then, it's over. The serpent dissipates into nothing as the man is relieved of his torment, nearly crumbling on the ground.
”She remains monitored, but untouched. Now, speak to me about Shinobu. What’s she done? How is the woman acclimating to the Division she abandoned only to come crawling back to?”
She man heaves, struggling to draw breath as he listens to his Captain. It's been made clear that he does not fully trust Shinobu. Kyomu distrusts those who have left the squad, holding them in little regard, such as former member Kiku Shunkan — now residing in the Fifth Division. Then there is Shusuke Kiyoshi, current Lieutenant of the Ninth Division, Shinobu Abe who had left Second Division to join Ninth was also counted amongst that number, only for her to surprisingly return seeking admittance back into the fold of killers and spies. Prior to Yasu’s promotion, if there was an exception that existed it was more than likely Honoka Oki. Honoka whom he has not seen or spoken to in over a Century.
”S-she’s, been training for the better part of her time back with us. If she has returned for some hidden purpose, she hasn’t made her motives known...Sir.”
Breathing and speaking were currently a chore to the man. Kyomu remains suspicious of Shinobu’s return, has remained suspicious this entire time, having her observed carefully day in and day out. If she was genuine in wanting to find her place amongst the Onmitsukido, then she would have much to do to prove not only her resolve to Kyomu...but her worth as well. Long gone are the days of Captain Mukuro indulging the incompotent, the unresolved — dead weight. If it turned out she was conspiring something against him or his division, well...she wouldn’t be the first to die by his blade.
”That is all then. Continue your rounds, and have everyone remain vigilant. Our gates remain closed to outsiders.”
CLACK
A black stone piece is placed on the ground, the agent vanishing into shadow concurrently. Kyomu is once again left alone in his office. As silence returns, it is once again disturbed only by the placing of the game pieces.
BSD
Administrator
[Traveling from Northeast, fourth division barracks.]
Himari had no time to think as she used shunpo to jump from one building to the other, her mind on nothing but getting to the second division. She had never visited the Division before, never needing too, but she knew where it was of course. One of the many things a shinigami had to know was where the other Division were, she could at least do that.
She quickly landed near the Divisions gates, her feet hitting the ground hard but not making much of the sound. She chose this moment to look around, taking in her surroundings. She never stepped foot near the south side of the Gotei. Having been too scared to leave the fifth barracks. That was all over now.
Now, it was the beginning of a change. Her life was about to change. This was scary for her. Through all of this, she had been moving on adrenaline alone. Now, being near the second division barracks, fear suddenly filled her body. Captain Mukuro was fear by most in the Gotei, people referred to him as the Phantom. What will he do if she came to him unannounced? A frail girl who has done nothing much in the last one hundred years?
All she had was the resolve to get stronger and the knowledge that this wasn't going to happen while she was in the fifth. She heard of the second division's reputation. They were the stealth division. Himari had no sense of stealth within her body, but she was willing to learn. And this phantom? Would he even allow her to come and speak to him? Would he reject her at once, seeing right through her weakness.
The possibilities were infinite.
Fudō Myōō was right. She had to do this. She already knew what had to be done, there was no time to be scared. There was no time to run away. This was either life or death for her. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to be Feared. And the only way she would get this goal is if she spoke to this phantom of a captain.
It will only happen if she convinces him to allow her to join the second Division.
With this thought, she grabbed onto the hilt of Fudō Myōō, and walked up to the gate of the second division. She stood there, mitchmatch eyes glaring at the gate.
Inhale
Exhale
This was it.
”I am Himari Shimizu of the Fifth Division! I have come with the wish to speak with Captain Mukuro and Captain Makuro alone. He is the only one that can help me with the request I have!”
Her voice boomed, echoing around the space. She spoke loud and clear, wanting to be heard by anyone nearby the gate. She stood tall, trying to hide her nervousness. She wanted to look as if she knew what she was doing. That she wasn’t scared of the possibilities that lay before her.
She had to be strong. For her own sake.
BSD
Administrator
Over a century the very gates to the Den of Killers have been closed, a fact known throughout the Seireitei. Save for any envoys from the First Division there were none who would be allowed entry, there were none who even dared draw close to their doors, massive gates that constantly exhausted an air of death from beyond their borders. Today however, a single brave soul — no, a single fool approaches. She is brash, foolhardy and ignorant in her pursuit, a pursuit that could very well end her life.
The woman grips her zanpakuto as she approaches the gates to either her rebirth or her demise. With every step, every breath taken and released the immensity of the gravity of the situation she is placing herself in bears down on her. Fear courses through her veins like blood, flows through her lungs like air. Despite this fear, she marches on, ever more certain about her goals, her desires. The fear she feels is the same fear she wishes to cast upon others.
”I am Himari Shimizu of the Fifth Division!”
She calls out, loud and bold announcing herself. A name that held no meaning to those within the Second, a Division that held equal importance to the assassin’s locked inside.
”I have come with the wish to speak with Captain Mukuro and Captain Makuro alone. He is the only one that can help me with the request I have!”
Her voice carries along the streets, loud enough for anyone to hear, even the shnigami passing through who have distanced themselves from the area around the Second Division. Any bypassers who overheard her would think the woman mad. Was this some form of suicide, did this crazy woman have a death wish? Did she not know, they could make her disappear without a trace, no evidence of where she had been, or what had even become of her. This thought alone caused any eavesdroppers to hasten their steps, some using shunpo to distance themselves further from her at a faster pace. If they were to remove evidence of her whereabouts, it meant any who might have seen her pass by were also subject to an untimely death. There wasn’t a soul who wished for such a fate, to become collateral damage for a single shinigami they didn’t know.
The area around both the gates and the blue haired woman, this..Himari of the Fifth Division is deserted and preternaturally silent. Aside from Himari herself there is no signs or evidence of life nearby, and there is no response from beyond the gates that tower before her. In this agonizing silence she is left to her own thoughts, her own fears, doubts and apprehensions as time chips away in a crawl.
"And who are you, Himari Shimizu of Fifth Division? To demand to speak with our Captain?”
A cold voice responds to Himari directly in her ear. Towering behind her is a man garbed in the attire of the Stealth Force, his face covered, concealing his identity. He appeared without warning, no signs of his arrival present be it by sound, reiatsu, presence or scent. No, rather arriving it was as if the man was simply...there, as if he had been willed into existence behind her.
It seems as if she had succeeded in gaining their attention.
Within the compound of the Second Division, everyone was busy separated into their designated areas. In one area they sharpened their Hakuda and close quarter combat, practicing and exchanging blows, experimenting on grapples and methods of escaping holds. In another section within the division blades were drawn as steel rang and clashed against steel while those awaiting their turn practiced their stances and sword swings. With every swing of the blade they pictured cleaving through flesh, adjusting their grip, the strength and speed behind each blow. The others focused on their accuracy and precision with the throwing knives and blades distributed to them along with needles and fukiya. They needed to be able to retrieve aim, throw and hit the target from a distance with little effort while erasing any evidence of their movements, and they needed to be able to do so with both idle and moving targets.
A long sharp whistle signaled for the different groups to change. On cue everyone at their designated stations stopped what they were doing and transitioned to the next area. From their movements it was evident that this routine had been engraved in their flesh and bones, becoming second nature to them. Another sharp whistle caused them to resume their training, each group now at a new station honing and sharpening their next skills. This rotation was intended to ensure everyone was properly trained in every area required for the success of any mission given to them. At the center of all this, engrossed in her own training, a continued effort to prove herself to the man she has re-sworn fealty to, was Shinobu Abe.
A gust of wind conjures a kneeling Stealth Force agent. His face hidden completely, the man or woman was like a statue frozen in place.
”Sixth Seat Shinobu Abe-”
The agent addresses her, their voice making it still a difficult task to ascertain anything about their identity, including their sex.
”There’s a situation outside the gates. A Himari Shimizu from Fifth Division is demanding to speak with the Captain. Fourth Seat Ochitsuki is tending to the guest in The Den, Fifth Seat Hoshi was said to be otherwise indisposed. Moya has made contact with her, but her purpose here remains unclear. She says there is a matter only the Captain can assist with.”
The agent debriefs Shinobu, explaining to the Seated officer why it is her and not the others they approached and also the nature of the situation outside their closed gates. While they would normally turn the woman away...or kill her, there was a chance she came bearing information that could be fruitful to them or the Captain. Whatever her reasons for coming were, she needed to be dealt with in one form or another, and they had no intentions on bothering the Captain without any further information. The agent expects Shinobu to piece together the situation herself, another gust of wind sweeps away their form as they vanish from before the Sixth Seat.
Whatever fate lay in store for their visitor, it seems it lay in the hands of Shinobu. Escort or executioner, which title would she carry when handling this matter?
BSD
Administrator
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God of Torture
Blood splatters along a wall following the sound of a sickening snap and crunch. A man screams hoping someone will hear his cries, hoping that anyone will come to his aid and save him. He will not be saved because he is alone. There is a resounding thud that echoes in this dim chamber, bile and liquid rush through the man's body up to his mouth. His cheeks expand for a brief second before he lets out a stream of what little he was given to eat. He is strung up, arms outstretched and restrained by shackles that latch onto the wall behind him. The only comfort he has is this stone wall that he can semi lean onto, but barely.
Splat
Something falls into the expelled mess on the floor, a finger, his finger. It was not cut off; it looks as if it was pulled and twisted until it was finally torn from the hand. The shadowy figure committing these heinous acts steps away from him, the clambering of metal objects is heard, he searches for his next tool of pain. Pliers are grabbed, he turns and approaches the victim, grabbing ahold of his bottom lip and stretching it out just enough to see his gums. The victim barely had any teeth left to speak of at this point.
”I… I told you all I know.... Why… Why do you continue this?”
Dim light reflects off the torturer's eyes, the windows to his soul. They are vacant. They dart around examining the face of the man for a brief moment before…
Snnnnnnip
This Shinigami cuts the man’s lip in two and from the absolute pit of his stomach he screams. Tears rolling down his face without end and as he cries his face is grabbed and examined, the Shinigami likes his handiwork so far. He steps away putting his tools on a table and picks up something else, a syringe. It’s a little booster, something to keep the victim alive and dying from shock. After a swift injection the Shinigami delivers a swift headbutt to his face, going as far as to stab the needle into his shoulder and break it off, embedding it in his skin permanently. He steps away and sits on a stool, observing his work. This horrible man was once a quiet and strange child who had very little presence. He made his presence known during the culling and on that same day he obtained a goal in life, to kill or die at the hands of Kyomu Mukuro.
For one hundred years he trained his body, honed his skills, broke through barriers all in an attempt to grow strong enough to kill the target of his obsession. As much as he grew in strength, so too did Kyomu. He was but a boy chasing clouds not knowing that he will never catch them, at least not yet. He rose through the ranks, when his progress within the ranks would become halted the seated member in front of him would mysteriously be found dead due to unknown circumstances. This happened twice, both times revolving around someone who was a seat ahead of the young man. As time passed he no longer needed to remove these obstacles as his talents were finally noticed in full by his Captain. When finally ascending to the Fourth Seat in the Division he was satisfied, as head of the Interrogation Unit he could finally satiate his blood thirst in peace.
He stands from his seat, moving with purpose as he grabs a hold of the ring finger of his victim. The man screams and howls in pain as the finger is twisted, contorted and eventually pulled from the hand. The snapping of the tendon, breaking of bone, and tearing of flesh are heard by the young man, but if there were others in the room this sound is drowned out by the screams of the victim. He holds the ring finger in his hand, looking at it for a brief moment before dropping it onto the ground. The victim's left hand is now devoid of fingers and the thumb, matching his right hand. Each digit was twisted, turned and pulled off by the deranged Oda, however, as much fun as this is for him it is not done without purpose. No, this is an interrogation, a brutal and vile interrogation that has yielded much info, information Captain Mukuro will be pleased to have.
The young man places his foot to the knee of the strung up man, he applies pressure to it, pushing and pushing. Just before the breaking point the man shouts out.
”Wait! Please! I lied, I know more! I know more…”
The last part of his sentence trails off into sobbing and cries, but his words halt Ochitsuki’s actions. He steps back, wiping his hands clean on a white towel, now turned scarlet as it absorbs the blood off of his hands. With clean hands he takes out a notebook from his modified Shihakushō and begins to write down everything he is told. The notebook is placed back in his top and he sits down on the stool once more. “What is he going to do to me next?” The thought of the prisoner who has no idea that Ochitsuki now has all the info he could squeeze from the man. Despite the horrific injuries the man will survive, he will be disfigured but still very much alive. As for Ochitsuki he remains with the man, drinking in the sobs and groans of pain of his victim. He had a set time limit to get information out of this man and he happened to complete ahead of schedule, however, he spends the rest of his time slightly exerting his Reiatsu which fills his victim with anxiety. The physical tourture may now be done but Ochitsuki wasn’t finished with the man psychologically, not yet.
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God of Torture
Blood splatters along a wall following the sound of a sickening snap and crunch. A man screams hoping someone will hear his cries, hoping that anyone will come to his aid and save him. He will not be saved because he is alone. There is a resounding thud that echoes in this dim chamber, bile and liquid rush through the man's body up to his mouth. His cheeks expand for a brief second before he lets out a stream of what little he was given to eat. He is strung up, arms outstretched and restrained by shackles that latch onto the wall behind him. The only comfort he has is this stone wall that he can semi lean onto, but barely.
Splat
Something falls into the expelled mess on the floor, a finger, his finger. It was not cut off; it looks as if it was pulled and twisted until it was finally torn from the hand. The shadowy figure committing these heinous acts steps away from him, the clambering of metal objects is heard, he searches for his next tool of pain. Pliers are grabbed, he turns and approaches the victim, grabbing ahold of his bottom lip and stretching it out just enough to see his gums. The victim barely had any teeth left to speak of at this point.
”I… I told you all I know.... Why… Why do you continue this?”
Dim light reflects off the torturer's eyes, the windows to his soul. They are vacant. They dart around examining the face of the man for a brief moment before…
Snnnnnnip
This Shinigami cuts the man’s lip in two and from the absolute pit of his stomach he screams. Tears rolling down his face without end and as he cries his face is grabbed and examined, the Shinigami likes his handiwork so far. He steps away putting his tools on a table and picks up something else, a syringe. It’s a little booster, something to keep the victim alive and dying from shock. After a swift injection the Shinigami delivers a swift headbutt to his face, going as far as to stab the needle into his shoulder and break it off, embedding it in his skin permanently. He steps away and sits on a stool, observing his work. This horrible man was once a quiet and strange child who had very little presence. He made his presence known during the culling and on that same day he obtained a goal in life, to kill or die at the hands of Kyomu Mukuro.
For one hundred years he trained his body, honed his skills, broke through barriers all in an attempt to grow strong enough to kill the target of his obsession. As much as he grew in strength, so too did Kyomu. He was but a boy chasing clouds not knowing that he will never catch them, at least not yet. He rose through the ranks, when his progress within the ranks would become halted the seated member in front of him would mysteriously be found dead due to unknown circumstances. This happened twice, both times revolving around someone who was a seat ahead of the young man. As time passed he no longer needed to remove these obstacles as his talents were finally noticed in full by his Captain. When finally ascending to the Fourth Seat in the Division he was satisfied, as head of the Interrogation Unit he could finally satiate his blood thirst in peace.
He stands from his seat, moving with purpose as he grabs a hold of the ring finger of his victim. The man screams and howls in pain as the finger is twisted, contorted and eventually pulled from the hand. The snapping of the tendon, breaking of bone, and tearing of flesh are heard by the young man, but if there were others in the room this sound is drowned out by the screams of the victim. He holds the ring finger in his hand, looking at it for a brief moment before dropping it onto the ground. The victim's left hand is now devoid of fingers and the thumb, matching his right hand. Each digit was twisted, turned and pulled off by the deranged Oda, however, as much fun as this is for him it is not done without purpose. No, this is an interrogation, a brutal and vile interrogation that has yielded much info, information Captain Mukuro will be pleased to have.
The young man places his foot to the knee of the strung up man, he applies pressure to it, pushing and pushing. Just before the breaking point the man shouts out.
”Wait! Please! I lied, I know more! I know more…”
The last part of his sentence trails off into sobbing and cries, but his words halt Ochitsuki’s actions. He steps back, wiping his hands clean on a white towel, now turned scarlet as it absorbs the blood off of his hands. With clean hands he takes out a notebook from his modified Shihakushō and begins to write down everything he is told. The notebook is placed back in his top and he sits down on the stool once more. “What is he going to do to me next?” The thought of the prisoner who has no idea that Ochitsuki now has all the info he could squeeze from the man. Despite the horrific injuries the man will survive, he will be disfigured but still very much alive. As for Ochitsuki he remains with the man, drinking in the sobs and groans of pain of his victim. He had a set time limit to get information out of this man and he happened to complete ahead of schedule, however, he spends the rest of his time slightly exerting his Reiatsu which fills his victim with anxiety. The physical tourture may now be done but Ochitsuki wasn’t finished with the man psychologically, not yet.