[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Southeast Seireitei


New member


There was something to be said about a girl who was trapped in a cage of her own making. She held the power of life and death within her hands and yet she failed to be decisive. Would this inability to act be the reason for her demise? Perhaps a better question to ponder was whether or not she should even move. A feeling of dread came upon her as she immediately understood the lack of care expressed towards her by Captain Mukuro’s actions. All that she wanted was to be useful to him. He had given her a chance when everything around her had crumbled. Ironically, he had given her life when she was resigned to death. Within her mind, synapses begin to fire in a different way. For one reason or another, it seems as though Utsuro cannot stay silent and obedient for once.

Within the corners of her mind, a vision of her past comes forth. It was the day she first communed with Omoikane. What little hope she had for happiness was immediately disposed of. He was just like the rest of her family. A lack of care oozed from him that was not at all covert. Over time, this had evolved into it consistently berating the Kuchiki. Time and time again, she would attempt to cover her ears so that his voice would go away. But that never happened. Instead, she was forced to deal with him on a daily basis while also dealing with horrendous treatment and grueling training. Eyes that once winced with both physical and emotional pain soon dulled. The hands that once desperately clung to her ears slowly dropped to her sides. All of the abuse she endured did, in fact, still bother her. However, it became easier to deal with over time. As a detrimental method of coping, she discarded any emotions that she once had—or so she thought.

Time seems to halt around her. Nothing moves and everything that was in motion no longer appears to be. At least, that’s what it looks like to her. This is not a delusion or anything of the sort. Instead, this is something that happens at a rate that exceeds the speed of the events around her. Something like this can only be achieved within one’s own psyche. Unlike earlier, this communion with her Zanpakuto is not one of oppression in favor of Omoikane. Their interaction occurs in what feels like a millennium, but appears to be an instant.

”Are you gonna die here, Kuchiki?”

A snarky tone emits from the being across from her. It takes its usual shape – that of a tan male with cold, pale red eyes and light gray tinted hair. His vision is limited to one eye until it’s not. His body is half corporeal until it is not. Omoikane’s figure constantly fades in and out in a motion that is akin to breathing. He awaits a response as his smile grows more smug.

”I… I don’t know.”

For some reason, even in the potential face of death, she falters. Yet, there is a feeling growing within her. It is a foreign feeling, but not totally unknown. Perhaps it is something long-forgotten.


Since knowing her Zanpakuto, it has never referred to her by her first name. A genuine look of shock takes over her face as she matches the gaze of Omoikane without hesitance. His smile has gone from malicious to warm—another thing she has never experienced.

”Call my name.”

There has never been anything that Utsuro was more sure of in her life. Her hesitation, doubts, concerns, and avoidant behaviors are dismantled in an instant. The domain that they reside in begins to glow as Omoikane has rematerialized before the woman. Her hands come forth and cup his cheeks. Inching closer, it appears as if their lips will touch. Just before they do, Utsuro begins to speak, each word igniting the world around them with an illustrious blue light to signify their bond.

Disassemble the Heavens. Rearrange the Earth. Come forth and reconstruct this realm.”

At the exact moment that Ochitsuki makes his move, all that can be heard from the girl is the final word spoken to her Zanpakuto—the only word to reach the world outside of her mind, and that word is:


Her superior relished the thought of murder. No, it would be more accurate to say that he relished the action of murder. Although she paid little attention to him outside of what he ordered her to do, she was aware that murder was not the only thing he was capable of. Torture was also his forte. Though, all that was on her mind was survival. Not once had she ever thought about herself. Now, she was going to do just that. Utsuro was not just fighting for herself, no, she was also fighting to protect her newfound love for her Zanpakuto. It all made sense now—she was him and he was her. Their clashing ideologies came from her internal strife. Such conflict had ceased entirely at this moment.

When Omoikane’s name is called, Utsuro’s hands are suddenly covered by gloves. These were important, yes, but they were just one medium by which her abilities operated—a great one, at that. As one thing is gained, another seems to fade. Her katana fades entirely when the gloves form, making one question whether or not it ever existed in the first place. It has yet to take shape again, but whether or not this is important is up to her foe to decide. He believes that overwhelming her while she is kneeling will lead to her demise. Perhaps his eagerness to kill has blinded him to the fact that she existed within the 2nd Division for a reason, even if she had been faulty up until now. It would be a grave mistake to believe that she would not notice him springing into action. Ochitsuki seeks to harm her before the bead of sweat that rested on her forehead could make its way to the ground. The two were a matchup that contrasted well in abilities. However, Utsuro now believed that even with what he held in his arsenal, she could do what he sought to do to her and thus turn the tables. Unlike him, she did not particularly care about hurting another person. She had never been opposed to it, but that had changed in a single conversation. The will to survive worked wonders when it came to battle.

The psycho succeeds at blowing the bead of sweat from her left to her right with his actions. But not in the way he intended. No, it is what she does that disrupts the natural flow of events around them that causes this. If he believed that his Shunpo and killer intent would guarantee him this victory, then he would be mistaken. As Ochitsuki approaches Utsuro from many angles with multiple cards at play, he immediately finds himself struggling to move at all. This is not the work of any kind of Kido, no, it is the work of her Shikai’s ability. Instead of playing the game of multiple choice, the Kuchiki has chosen all of the above. Electing to utilize the carbon in the air by spreading open her right hand and making use of her blade that “disappeared” into the air simultaneously, the carbon that exists within the air around them has been reconstructed into hundreds of constructs resembling kunai, the density of such is not to be underestimated, as it is at least 20 times that of a diamond, but such a feat does not slow the pace of the assault at all. They intend to annihilate each image of the man who wishes to do her harm. There is no specific portion of each Ochitsuki’s body that they pierce, instead electing to skewer him from head to toe before he can continue his fiendish assault. She would not play his games, no, she had no time to do so when her life was in danger. His speed would not save him now. And should he try other tactics, she would continue to press the assault with the additional plans she formulated.

While her right palm opens, her left still rests on her body. The name of the game was carbon, so what else could she be doing with it while her right acted to counter him and then begin her onset? She did not believe that he would reach this answer within this battle, but should he actually succeed in making contact with her, he would very quickly realize that something was amiss with her and how she felt physically. A green light flashes briefly behind her neck before disappearing as she now stands upright and looks forward, electing to not attempt to place her eyes on the assassin’s physical form. No, she would continue to detect him through a combination of sensory and her senses—not one or the other. There were other ways to deal with his speed other than using just her eyes. The Kuchiki did not want to rely on reflexes alone, but she could if necessary. A member of her division – a high-ranking one at that – could be rather devious, so there was extra caution being placed on this situation. Overconfidence could be fatal, but so could a lack of confidence in one’s skills. Right now, she held neither. All that she could feel was Omoikane’s warmth coursing through her. As she rose from her kneeling position, a single noise repeated itself five times over, but of those five, two were slightly different. She had dropped small black orbs from her sleeves as she rose to a standing position.

What came next was up to Ochitsuki, but if he continued to think of her as a doll with only one purpose, then he would find out how grim the consequences of such a line of thought were.



Staff member


One hundred years ago Ochitsuki dedicated himself to a singular cause, to kill Kyomu Mukuro. As such he trains tirelessly to achieve this result and while he is nowhere near the peak Kyomu stands on he makes steady and diligent progress towards it. Motivation is a driving force for all beings, motivation launches one towards their goal, creating momentum that they can ride and add to the closer they get to said goal. Ochi has been riding and adding to this momentum, meanwhile Utsuro has just found her motivation and her goal is much more tangible and insight as opposed to Ochitsuki’s. But in the end, which one will win out? The drive to survive or the drive to kill another at all cost? And most of all, did that drive to survive manifest in time?

Warriors and Assassins

Was this the first time the girl had been in a fight? Well a fight for her life, assassination is a very different beast. Ochitsuki knew she too was a Second Division member, he took that into account but what the girl did not take into account is that this man is not a natural born assassin. His time in Second Division molded him into one, but at a flick of the switch he can break that mold and return to what he was originally born as, a warrior. She fights for survival but that is a fight he was taught at an early age, above all else, in battle prioritize survival. Glory, pride, praise, all of it means nothing if you don’t survive. So this new drive Utsuro has gained is nothing new for the demented young man, further more, being so well versed in the subject of Survival he knows how to break it.

The bead of sweat blows from left to right, there now exists two versions of Ochitsuki and the once timid girl speaks the name of her Zanpakuto and… Nothing happens. Her blade does not vanish, no gloves are formed, no carbon is manipulated. So fearful the girl made no attempt to defend herself, she heard the orders given to Ochitsuki, why did she not put up a defense? Information is king in Second Division along with an understanding of situations so did it not occur once to her why she only felt the air hit her face and neck? Why did her Shihakushou not waver, why did she not feel no air upon her hands, why did her hair not dance from said air? Why was there one version of Ochitsuki drawing his blade and the other with his blade already drawn? In order to survive you have to ask questions, you have to actively be alert and ready to defend yourself from the unknown, not passive and timid. Utsuro would feel a peeling at her neck and before she can rationalize what that peeling is her world goes dark for the final time as her head falls from her shoulders.

Master in Shunpo Ochitsuki was able to move briskly past the girl and allowed her to feel his presence brush past her face. Mid-Shunpo the boy would draw and strike with his Zanpakuto, a Master in Zanjutsu in his own right, his blade passing cleanly through her neck, this was the air upon her neck that she felt. He has developed a style of cutting that creates delayed results, allowing limbs to remain attached and gashes to not open up until after a certain amount of time has passed. Connection to her body and her life were severed in that moment. When its owner is near death the Zanpakuto reseals itself in order to preserve their owners strength, but when the owner dies out right, there is nothing for the Zanpakuto to do other than mourn its wielder's passing. The version of Ochitsuki to her right fully turns around, revealing a startling calm expression on his face, blood dripping from the neck wound of Utsuro’s severed head and the body that still remains kneeling. A cut so fast and pristine that blood had no time to set itself upon his blade.

Now the question remains, should he report this to his Captain or will he have felt her passing already? He’d hate to waste the Captain’s time with obvious news, however, with this task done he will need new orders. He sheaths his blade and exits the hall attempting to locate his Captain’s position.


New member


Within the eyes of the world, the young Kuchiki had fallen from grace. Unfortunately, she was not as elegant as her predecessors. Such a feature often caused others to overlook her abilities. Although she was reminiscent of a model member of the clan, what exactly did that mean anymore? Nothing, sadly. However, it meant nothing from a purely reputational standpoint. Those that had witnessed their fall from grace were quick to assume that even the best of her fallen clan were still subpar. Such a way of thinking had allowed for the outcome within the meeting hall to be reached. Ochitsuki believes that he has outwitted and outmatched Utsuro with his speed. It was this very speed that she was not only cognizant of, but betting on. In his blood-lusted state, it appeared as though he had, unfortunately, fallen victim to tunnel vision.

It is assumed that his speed will allow him to move past the woman and dispatch her with ease. However, this ideal vision within the psychopath’s head is just that—a vision. He seemed to think that it was his actions that caused this bead of sweat to move on her head, when it was her own moves that did this.***His intentions and the reality before them were further apart than he had envisioned. The air he believes will affect her never does. He seemed to think that she was unprepared when this was not at all the case. If anything, she was prepared for the worst possible scenario. The unideal scenario had not come to fruition, actually—the activation of his Shikai had thankfully not occurred. This was the one thing she truly believed would surely happen. It was the one thing that she was confident in predicting. However, this had not occurred, and it had allowed for her success to remain unobstructed. There was a common denominator here that he felt would lead him to victory and it only led him to his demise.

Was it possible that Ochitsuki had gone into some sort of dream-like state, thus allowing for his body to act as if it were on auto pilot? This seemed to be the most likely scenario, as the chain of events he believes to occur simply… don’t. Omoikane still comes forth and carbon is manipulated in two different ways as planned. In the event that he somehow had survived what happened to him—which is far more than unlikely and perhaps even impossible—he would have immediately been stopped once more and subjected to the attack being orchestrated by her right hand’s movement. Both worked in tandem with separate actions of equal value. While the right had created an attack that skewered Ochitsuki, the left had enhanced the resilience of Utsuro’s entire body to a point in which it could challenge other Zanpakuto. A sealed one stood absolutely no chance at breaking through this absolute defense as a result. He had three options and only considered two: both of which ensured his demise. The man had foolishly believed that she would allow for him to get the jump on her and it had backfired greatly.


Unbothered, his flesh is torn into unrecognizable shreds by the hundreds of kunai raining down on him. When they hit the ground after shredding his skin, they leave a distinguishable impact that a regular kunai cannot. The ground sinks in slightly as another one falls and plants itself. Ochitsuki is undoubtedly a warrior. As a result, he dies a warrior’s death instead of considering the alternatives. From the point of view of Utsuro, he struggles with an internal conflict between warrior and assassin that has led to him being left in this state. The warrior in him should have been allowed to show itself more than the assassin who held it back. Imbalance had caused this gruesome scene. It was ironic, really. The tables seemed to turn rather quickly. His current situation mimicked the one she was afflicted with before.

Although the Oda has been dispatched, there are always shadows lurking. Instead of letting down her defenses or changing her actions, she continues still unhindered. Omoikane now remains scattered within the air for the most part. A piece of him appears by the Oda’s unrecognizable body, mere inches away from it, pressed to the floor. The floor beneath the former warrior parts, allowing him to slowly sink in and become one with their barracks. There is meaning to be found in his solemn burial. Utsuro turns to the man that tried to take away her newfound hope and her lips part, allotting him a farewell that he does not deserve.

”Rest now, Ochitsuki Oda. May you find peace when you return to us.”




New member



For the first time in the young girl’s life, she truly felt like everything was coming together. From being the girl wasting away in the Fifth Division, to the scared but determined girl going to the second Division to face the Phantom himself, seeking direction. Seeking anything other than what was happening to her in the Fifth. Some would have thought she had a death wish. She herself sort of felt that way. She could have been walking to her very own grave, being killed so quickly and forgotten just as fast. She had no idea the Phantom would accept her. Not in the way Himari would have liked but he did nonetheless.

And here she was. The girl kneeling before the Captain was a completely different person. She was ready to follow the Captain before her anywhere he wanted. For the very first time, she truly looked up to someone. She didn’t have parents or older siblings, so she didn’t truly know what that felt like. And it was a scary thing. But, Himari knew that following him would be the only way she could kill the old and miserable girl she was.

And become someone truly worth living.

She couldn’t see the man’s face as she kneeled down, her face to the floor. But she knew there would be no emotion there. It was silent for a few beats before finally he spoke.

“Follow me.”

And that was all. He didn’t say anything else or even allow her to say anything in return. He walks, clearly expecting her to follow behind him without any hesitation . As she would now do for the foreseeable future. And that she did. She quickly got to her feet and followed after him. She glances as she notices that the person who showed up late to the meeting, Utsuro, was now in the hall and in line with Ochisuki’s path of insanity. She didn’t feel anything, but she couldn’t let the thought pass on if this was the first and last time she would see the other girl.

But that was it, she only allowed herself a mere second to think this before she turned her eyes back, eyes facing forward to whatever awaited the gates to her new beginning to open up.


Staff member


With every step taken the Captain and his newest disciple of stealth, espionage and death distance themselves further from Ochitsuki and Utsuro, as the Oda strives to fulfill his task while Utsuro struggles internally with what is to come. Kyomu remains silent, feeling a brief spike in the Kuchiki's spiritual pressure before that same spiritual pressure is silenced. The scenery surrounding them, slowly changes as they walk past barrack rooms, pass through pristine halls before sturdy waraji step out onto fresh grass. The two travel in silence, as Kyomu leads the way for Himari, where to remains unknown to her, his movements doing nothing to announce his steps, as if he was traveling weightlessly across every blade of grass.


After much traveling the Captain speaks, his feet still ceaselessly carrying him seemingly further from the actual barracks into what perceives to be the wood line.

"If you see your comrade being defeated, do not help. Instead, take it as an opportunity and cut the enemy down from behind. If the enemy is so strong that even that is not feasible, then leave your comrade to die...even if its me."

He lists off the tenets of the Stealth Force, taking a single moment to glance slightly over his shoulder towards her.

"That is the way of the Stealth Force..what it means to be Onmitsukidō."

Turning to face ahead as they continue on, these tenets that Himari are meant to memorize, embrace and embody are cruel laws to live by. Laws telling one to ignore a struggling ally, exploit their predicament to "steal" the win essentially, killing the enemy. Then to take it further by telling one to abandon their ally if its perceived the enemy is too powerful for even a surprise attack to matter, it is one of many reasons why those from the Second Division are distrusted and seen as cowardly and evil. Despite such rules, Kyomu has actively gone against them more than once, going out of his way to protect Yasu in the past. The towering trees that soon welcome them, simultaneously hide the traveling two within their shadows.


From a distance, a structure comes into view, at first like a silhouette growing more distinct the closer they got. They step down into the hidden bunker like structure, once more stepping into the darkness. Candles resting on the walls sway gently, Kyomu and Himari's shadows dancing along the walls as they venture inside. By now Himari should be able to tell, it is a feeling that the young woman is unaccustomed to. The entirety of the structure appears to be made of Sekkiseki (殺気石, Spirit Reducing Stone; Viz "Lethal Presence Rock"). It is an almost....nauseating feeling at first, having one's spiritual sense and spiritual powers dampened to such a significant degree. Not use to such an environment every step Himari takes becomes harder, her steps leadened as she strives to maintain the pace upheld by Kyomu, all while her strength wavers and is drained from her. This feeling seems to extend the feeling of the length of their now agonizing journey. How many turns had they made? How far had they traveled? How deep had they gone underground? No matter, their journey had finally come to an end. Massive double doors with the emblem of the Onmitsukido emblazoned on their surface. Seconds tick by before the doors seem to creak open almost automatically, welcoming the two inside.
It takes time for Himari's eyes to adapt to the brightly lit room. It is an expansive room, its walls lined with a number of weaponry. Shelves with massive heavy spheres, throwing weapons, jars with what looked like needles, daggers, and stacks of folded Ginjōtan (銀条反, Stripe of Inverted Silver) resting on the ground, among other things. The room is similar to a number of hidden Safe Houses the Phantom has scattered around the Seireitei and the Rukongai. The darkened weapons lining the walls and shelves were clearly the weapons Kyomu often carried on him, all made from the same material, a metallic alloy similar to the same material that composed the structure they were in, made to easily slice and stab through spiritual bodies, hemorrhaging one's spiritual power. Kyomu's arms rest behind him as he turns around, facing his young protégé.

"Breathe, you'll get use to the environment."

He encourages the blue haired woman, who has been forced to suffer while within these walls.

"Take a look around. You're going to familiarize yourself with all the weapons in here. You will keep several of them on you at all times, just as you would your zanpakuto. For now, grab what you need."