[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Southwest Seireitei


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9 Months Ago


Even with the damage to his surname's reputation this process was still rather expedited for the shamed prince due to a combination of both circumstances regarding Naruki City and subsequently Lieutenant Hyouzuka's request to bolster the 10th Division's forces as was stated at the briefing during his inprocessing. Immediately following this Masahiko would then be made to learn the layout of the Division grounds, the function of the 10th itself in regard to the Gotei 13, and a list of tasks requested and ordered by level of priority. Such was the expectations of his superiors to the newly appointed 7th Seat. Eventually after becoming loosely acclimated to his new surroundings he would be escorted to his new living quarters. To the disgraced noble the space gave off somewhat of a dull, but simultaneously homely appearance. It was small and cozy with a simple wooden work desk, and a fresh futon, along with white walls to match. In a way it made sense to the young soul who had found solace in solitude for most of his life seeing as he believed it was the best way to learn about one's self. Stepping inside for the first time he could somehow feel a change occuring within. He was now finally at the starting line to begin his journey and this revelation gave him a sense of exhiliration; taking a breath as he thought to himself.

Let's get to work

8 Months Ago


His form, movement, and technique to the trained eye appeared without flaw as his strikes came in rapid succession with a frightening precision, holding his blade closer to his body in order to deal blows at a shorter range whilst alternating between high and low targets. Well; that was until this had happened...


He didn't even have a chance to process the shock he felt in the moment the newly appointed Lieutenant, Shoumetsu Takahiro, grabbed his Zanpakutou before an unearthly amount of pain struck the core of his very being causing him to fly straight from one side of the training hall to the other; landing just shy of the wall.

W-What was that? How did he...

Masahiko attempted to gather his thoughts despite how badly disoriented the sudden blow left him, but there was something off with the way he had been struck. It felt as though he had already had been made to experience this pain in a split second window prior to the point of contact. However instead of focusing on the reasons why, and thus wasting time taking his focus off of his current instructor now sparring partner, the noble prioritized willing his way back to his feet. He would fulfill his curiosity after completing his day's training regimen. This task however was easier said than done because as soon as Masahiko's free hand took hold of his torso he could already feel the agonizing sensation of a pair of broken ribs while the taste of copper suddenly became apparent. Meanwhile he could already hear the comments being made by some of the passerby in the Division who were conducting other business during this training session.

"If it wasn't for the fact that he's one of those Kuchiki bastards I'd actually feel bad for the kid" one onlooker said only somewhat concerned.

"Ever since our new Lieutenant showed up from the 11th he's been putting us through hell everyday, but it seems like he always turns the heat up an extra notch when the new kid is involved" said another.

"Well I say more power to him. How absurd is it for a fresh recruit to be considered our superior because of his damned blood. Sure he's got some raw power and skill, but he hasn't proven anything on a battlefield. If the Lieutenant seems to want to prove a point than why stop him?" another said chiming in.

"That'll teach him for looking down on us regular Shinigami who had to earn our keep" said another still.

Was this what they all thought of him? Even though he had personally never done anything of the sort to them?


Responding almost purely out of spite Masahiko would instinctively stab his blade into the ground as he slowly but surely force himself to stand again. His legs wobbled and wanted to buckle, his head still a bit foggy from the blow, blood dripping steadily from his mouth, but he seemed resolved to refuse to let his body sag lest he surrender to his body's cry to stay down; steadying his weight on his Zanpakutou before taking it back up again. All to the collective shock of everyone who had witnessed what Shoumetsu Takahiro had just done to him. However it seemed that no one, not even Masahiko himself, had expected what followed next to occur as the disgraced noble struggled to resume the practice bout in a proper stance.

"Masahiko is it...what drives you to fight? I will take you on as my disciple if you accept but once you do there is no going back, it's either you will grow stronger or you will die in the process. Never hold your attacks because I ensure you in a real battle your enemy definitely will not. Whenever you draw your sword against me from this point forward you better come at me with the intent to kill."

Shocked couldn't even begin to describe what all in attendance had felt. For how long had the Lieutenant been considering this? And why Masahiko in particular? Whatever the reason it was an unexpected opportunity not afforded to many to be apprenticed to such a powerful Shinigami in this manner. Though taken aback all he could do was nod in acceptance of Shoumetsu's offer. And thus the match would resume in complete silence.

The disgraced noble needed strength, and he needed it as soon as possible. If he was ever going to accomplish his goal of taking back his honor, taking back his name, and restoring the Kuchiki clan he had to become stronger. This was an offer he couldn't refuse.

6 Months Ago

Death By A Thousand Cuts

Without a doubt one of the most painful methods of torture ever divised intended for obscenely stalled deaths. Yet here it was being used as a training method all for the purpose of teaching him the basics of the Musou. Compounded with his usual duties and training, along with the strained spiritual connection caused by Yamata No Orochi constantly being broken everyday, Shoumetsu had effectively made sure that both Shinigami and Zanpakutou were under constant duress with every waking moment. His reasoning as it was explained to Masahiko was the fact that matters of life and death are always inherently stressful and therefore he needed to be acclimated to the reality of how uncomfortable battle can truly be. In essence the goal to become comfortable being uncomfortable and accept pain with open arms akin to a long lost friend. Only then could he proceed further in his training.

Soon Masahiko would compile a menagerie of horrendous scars to prove his diligence as the knowledge imparted to him by his ruthless master was quite literally carved into his skin bit by bit until by each day's end when either work hours concluded, or when Masahiko found himself in a state of near death. Ironically enough now the same Division mates who would snicker about his tainted blood now came face to face with the reality of it soaking up in whatever path he had taken that day. It was as if the 7th Seat was now obliged to paint the Division grounds a deep shade of crimson. At some point the noble could no longer recall most days as his body now practically moved seemingly on autopilot. However this was fine. The more Masahiko began to look inward the less that pain registered to his senses much to Lieutenant Shoumetsu's approval. Training was going as intended.

Present Day

"When we first met I asked what is it that drives you to fight? What causes your fighting spirit to burn with such fierce intensity? The time to answer has come."

For master and student it was business as usual as they clashed furiously whilst their opposing spiritual pressures fought for supremacy. The combined potency of which kept all curious minds FAR away from their private session lest they wished to forfeit their life. The sounds of metal clashing permeated the air as the grounds shook with every mutual strike. Despite his progress however; it was again the Lieutenant who seized and maintained control of the pace much to the younger 7th Seat's chagrin as the back of his blade was authoritatively pressed down to his shoulder by Shoumetsu's own causing Masahiko's feet to break through the earth as he tried to stand his ground. Though unlike 9 months ago he showed no visible reaction to the apparent gash running down the same shoulder where their swords met. A stark contrast to when his apprenticeship under Shoumetsu had first began.


His master's voice demanded as his power continued to bare down on him with increasing intensity. Masahiko had been contemplating Shoumetsu's inquiry ever since the question was first presented to him. What did he fight for? What made him willing to go through so much to accept this type of life without hesitation? How was it that no matter what others said or did it only made the noble that much more determined to prove them wrong? Other then the sounds of blades grinding against one another there was no other sound heard between the two for what seemed like ages. And then... he spoke. From the very depths of his soul he stated only two words in response as he unleashed all of his spiritual power at once.


And for the first time Masahiko had verbalized what is was that kept him standing where many before him had fallen, as the returning force behind his swing gained him just enough space to side step and Shunpo away in order to regain his footing. Though both of their attentions would be distracted by the sudden noise coming from Shoumetsu's Denreishiki.

The time had now finally come for the return of 10th Division's newly appointed Captain. Shizuka Hyouzoku!

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Senkaimon opened from all corners of Naruki city as hundreds of shinigami poured out. She didn’t know what division they were from but they immediately began to form barriers and perform konso on the thousands of souls that were damaged by the effects of the invasion. Dearu watched as her Lieutenant’s mask was shattered and the last thing she remembered was the 10th Division being reunited with an unconscious Lieutenant.

Three Days Later in Naruki

Naruki City had been rebuilt thanks to the Kido Corps but there were still lost souls wandering about the city. Instead of returning to the Soul Society, Dearu dedicated her time to hunting down these souls so that she may send them into their afterlife. By sitting in the center of the city she continued to max her sensory capabilities to find these souls. She would then test her limits with her shunpo to quickly make it to their location. Men, women, children of all ages were killed by the attack on Naruki City and some of them were harder to help move on than others. Dearu often spent most of her time speaking to the souls and talking to them about their lives and the fact that they would be fine in the afterlife. She performed konso on more than a dozen souls within those three days and when she felt that the population of souls had dwindled and she performed the last konso she found herself entering a senkaimon into the Soul Society.

Six Months Ago

In between her expeditions to Naruki, Dearu had been perfecting several techniques, some of them she deemed were so essential that she had to share them with the rest of the division. The smell of her sweat within the division was masked by the sweet smell of pastries. There were pastries of all kinds. As the stress got to her, she had found the only way to relieve her itching hands in between training and surveilling Naruki was baking. She had found herself making donuts, cakes, cookies, muffins and any variation in between, effectively filling her division with one sweet after the other on a daily basis. This craft also caused her to be specific in the amount of energy she used kneading the dough, how precise she had to be with the amount of ingredients, and find joy in sharing with others.

Her favorite thing was making one of her favorite desserts: ice cream. She had first started out with vanilla, then strawberry and then she tested different kinds of chocolates. First she heated milk in a saucepan until bubbles began to form around the edges and then quickly removed it from the heat source. “A little bit of raw honey and stir” she whispered to herself. She moved around the kitchen with grace as the five hundred pound weights she wore seemed to not hinder her at all. However, these weights were not only strengthening her but also acting as limiters for her pools of reiatsu. She poured two ounces of cocoa powder and then an egg and salt and began to whisk it until it was smooth. When she was satisfied with the consistency of the custard she added half a tablespoon of vanilla abstract and several shots of rum, and two cups of thick, heavy whipping cream. She tasted the custard, even though there was raw egg and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She gave an audible gasp and exhaled deeply. “Yummy.” She exclaimed. Next was the freezing process for the next day.

After her ice cream had been in the freezer for roughly twenty four hours, she tasted the honey chocolate ice cream infused with rum and her eyes watered and her mouth melted with the tastes. She quickly ran and grabbed several of the members of the tenth division and forced them to take a spoonful.

“Dearu this is amazing!”
“Hashi! The taste is fantastic. The texture, exquisite.”

“Thanks everyone!” The laugh she let out along with the smile was absolutely heartwarming.

4 Months Ago

The sound of swords could be heard clashing from the training grounds of the Tenth Divison. Hashidearu was testing her speed and strength against the other members. She had found herself becoming more sensitive to the movements of others by paying attention to the way they sounded and how their spiritual presence felt. With a blindfold on, she utilized her main tactics of evasion, but she knew that after the attack of the Arrancar and the hollows on Naruki she would have to be more decisive with her blows in combat. With the reserves that these monsters had, her outlasting them would be a false sentiment from now on. She would have to overwhelm them.

Dearu dropped her first two limiters that were wrapped around her arms and swung her zanpakuto upwards, breaking the block of her comrade with brute strength before thrusting her fist forward and sending him spiraling out of the training grounds, slamming him into a tree and splintering it. With a pivot of her foot and shooting her finger out “Hainawa”, a yellow net of reiatsu flowed from her finger and entangled her comrade. With a lift of her hand she swung it around and him with it, flung him into the air and then into the ground.

With a sheathing of her zanpakuto and removing her blindfold, she disappeared and reappeared again a few seconds later, utilizing shunpo to grab a basket that sat on the side of the training grounds. She went to help up her opponents and offered them a pastry.

“Here! Thanks for sparing me.”

Present Day

Hashidearu was doing another round of surveillance of Naruki city. Everything seemed calm and there was very little activity from what she could understand. She moved from rooftop to rooftop to give herself a vantage point of the city and stretched out her sensory abilities as far as they could go, mid building hop her soul phone went off and as she read the message her face lit up with joy.

“Captain!” She exclaimed loudly, missing the building and face planting on the side, having to quickly latch onto the edge with her hand. That’s why she shouldn’t use her phone and shunpo. She hanged onto the building for a second while she put her phone away and pulled herself up. She quickly made her way back to the Soul Society and got to work.

Tenth Division Barracks

The barrack's kitchen was scrambling at the orders of the Fourth Seat of the division. Sweat were on their brows, their hands were covered in powder, and they tripped over themselves several times to fulfill all the orders of their fourth seat.

“Lady Dearu your face!” One of the members exclaimed at her swollen nose and cheek from slamming into the building.

Ignoring the comment

“I want everyone moving! No mistakes!” She said with a ferocity that scared her division members.

“Flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar…!!” She began a continuous list of ingredients as her reiatsu flared and eggs started levitating, vanilla extract began to rise in small droplets, and her comrades in the battle for their Captain’s celebration began to lose their footing.

“Dearu! The gravity!!” One of the members screeched.

Without even thinking about it she tasted the batter of his cake and shook her head. “Wrong! It needs more vanilla and sugar; it tastes like bread!” She said as she grabbed him by the hakama and pulled him back down to the ground only for him to float back up again. “You should be able to work in any conditions! Including low gravity. What’s wrong with a little orbit?”

Those outside of the barracks would hear complete chaos, screams and cries, pans banging and clashing and even smoke rising from those division members who had been corralled into baking and had no experience or ability to help. Dearu made them be of service in some way as well. They however, would not leave the kitchen a mess, a constant stream of dishes were being washed, dried, and hanged back up in their proper spots.

Dearu stepped up and practically floated to the next cake. It was a strawberry cake with cream cheese icing and beautiful strawberries atop it and even a marshmallow bunny. “Wonderful presentation!” Dearu took a bite of the extra batter that was cooked for her testing and nodded her head. “Excellent. Excellent.”

Dearu grabbed the cake and set it on the table, simple, elegant, delicious. The next cake that she tasted had a swirling texture mixed with dark chocolate and the next lavender and the next a triple chocolate with raspberry filling. Dearu took a note of them and told them to grab their cakes and follow her. Overall she had chosen about a dozen cakes from her comrades' hard work.

“Our new Captain returns today!” The barracks shouted and began to follow her out to the courtyard, tables and chairs being carried by division members were being set up. Cakes and other pastries were laid out on the table along with different types of drinks, including dessert themed alcohol.

Dearu stepped back and began looking at the presentation. It looked wonderful. She wasn’t a warden but she did have a few fixes for her for the placement of the cakes and the silverware. She also wanted the arrangements where if the Captain decided to sit he wouldn’t be the head of the table but in a position where he would easily be able to speak to those he wanted to speak to.

“Oh!” she uttered as she fluttered past tables and pastries.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Can anyone think of anything else?!” She exclaimed to the crowd.​


New member


Not knowing when the others would be showing up his gaze drifted toward the barracks. With an inquisitive look on his face, others would wonder if the alluring smell of cake was what drew his attention, but he stared in one specific direction. Since he left Izanagi in the care of Shusuke it had been a while since he last checked on the duo curious how much stronger they have grown. In those seconds of thoughts, his disciple's words didn't go unrecognized either with the text delivered it became a waiting game for the other members to convene along with whatever his Captain was up to conclude. Maybe it was time for Shoumetsu to become a menace to the Gotei 13 once again after all these months of allowing others peace.

With the turn of events happening so quickly after his full recovery and his brethren Hiroka getting promoted to Lt by the 9th division Captain Yasu Yugure. A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes thinking it had definitely been some time since he paid his old-time friends an visit and the fact they were probably enjoying some peace undisturbed only fueled his resolve. More so talking out loud to himself he looked absently minded at Masahiko asking a rhetorical question out of the blue that might confuse him about what was going on in his Lt's head at the moment.

"How does that saying go? You can behead two avians with one sword?"

He started to cackle in a very ominous way thinking about picking a fight with the two of them at their division so he didn't have to worry about the collateral damage. Reaching into his top a little after he pulled out his gourd of sake and then begin to chug it with big gulps before tossing it in Masahiko's way to drink some. Shifting his full attention back to him with a belch escaping him, he stretched out pondering on a few things.

"You fight for pride...that is a good resolve to fight for but what happens if somebody breaks that pride of yours? I never understood why you hold such importance to your Clan. What will they do for you? I suppose the importance of one's name is to be honored because that is all they have in the end."

He understood a great deal about the honor and dishonor of family heritages and Households from all the samurai history books he read. Although, this still never changed the fact he considered it an unnecessary burden but probably had a lot to do with his upbringing of not knowing what it meant to have a family. His thoughts drifted to the day he lost the only family he had, his younger sister Meiling Takahiro was killed. Some would think this was the incident that opened up the flood gates to the twisted path he walks now, but the truth is he was born with this innate destructive nature. All those he slain in her name to send "friends" her way so she wouldn't be alone were carried out in a calm mental state and not an act of blind rage. The day he enacted revenge on every soul connected to his sister's death is the day he gave birth to one of his strongest techniques; Musou. The most twisted part about it all is despite the loss of the only person he truly could say loved doesn't haunt him in the slightest after killing so many indiscriminately. To finally let his true self free only incites unquenchable carnage.

blade clean.gif


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Time always advanced. Unapologetically. Unwavering. Without remorse for those made subject to its merciless and inescapable influence. One can either attempt to take the reins of the un-halting resolute construct's advent into the future and receive its potential blessings, or simply be left behind in its wake, unable to ever truly regain the time and potential they actively abandoned and let go to waste.

Nine months had swiftly come and gone in what had felt like only a brief handful of sunsets. Roughly two-hundred and seventy-five days had passed within the Soul Society. The Shinigami taking occupancy in the Seireitei, had done as they always naturally have, advanced with time. Consistently pushing beyond their restraints, and forcefully stripping away their own limitations. Strengthening their bodies, their bonds, and everything else they deemed as being "progress" in their own right. All finely forged blades, dangerously sharp to the touch, with an even sharper ambition, and drive to polish. Blades ready to be wielded and spill blood for the greater "good" and balance that Soul Society allotted for the World of the Living. However, there stood one blade in particular amongst the masses that had been something akin to a needle in a haystack. A singular blade that had been notably more refined, more polished, and significantly sharper than the vast majority. Yet, with a dulled and darker coating and exterior - an aura of disdain and contempt staining its apparent "flawless" edge. It could just as easily be overlooked at another piece of sharpened iron, average in all aspects. Yet, looks can indeed and always will be deceiving.

Eizoku Yugameru, one of the extremely rare and few Chronomancers that resided within the Seireitei, had forged himself into a blade worthy of recognition, yet not worthy of use. Beautiful and well forged, a sight to behold, but one that had been wrapped and concealed without cause, never to be looked upon unless forcefully unveiled. Where everyone else had progressed over the span of 275 days, by means of his own Zanpakto, the boy had turned those days, into the equivalent of 2,750. Advancing his training ten-fold by its utilization. He had successfully achieved seven and a half years' worth of training, in only nine months. After his exiling from his previous division, attempted sealing by his previous Captain, and a public failure of being the only testee whom failed at achieving Captaincy after his test, the boy's pride and sense of self-worth had plummeted to fathom deep levels where he found himself unable to crawl back up no matter how desperately he sought to.

Despite his achievement of being placed into the position of the Lieutenant of Sixth Division, the boy simply hadn't been able to achieve a sense a true fulfillment. Like something synonymous to a hollow, he had been unable to fill his insatiable desire to grow stronger, to be recognized...to prove his previous Captain wrong. His means of doing so had been through physical training and exertion. Where he would typically invest the majority of his time into his studies and the sole reliance and dependence upon his Zanpakto, he recognized that alone would not suffice for him to progress to the level he desired. His disposition perhaps had a lot to do with his own outlook on the position he occupied as a whole. The Lieutenant of a Division was not always chosen primarily by skill, but rather a sense of trust and reliance from the guiding Captain. Despite it being a position of honor, he viewed a Third Seat as having more notability than a Lieutenant, as strange as it may have sounded to others. Naturally, his attitude would follow suit, disregarding all whom held the title of Lieutenant, himself included.

He had matured exponentially both physically and mentally over the final quarter of the year. His once average speeds now refined to that of a Shunpo master. His once despicable disposition in hand-to-hand combat molded into a newer, far more reliable form of combat which he now integrated confidently within his fighting style. His once feeble strength turned into something notable enough to shatter and crack the ground beneath his feet if desired. He had achieved new heights, new tactics, new abilities...and a new position.

*Six Months Ago*

"Are you quite satisfied yet...?"

The conjoined grunting and pained moaning of men and women alike could be heard throughout the barracks of the entirety of the Sixth Division. Where one man stood idle and complacent, disarmed, while reading a book whose title was obscured partially by the shadows of its own positioning dancing across its cover. The entirety of the division lay scattered around him in mass. Their bodies piled upon top of each other like a freshly disturbed ant hill.

Upon closer inspection, one would be able to analyze that nearly every last member, despite being winded, freshly disarmed, having tattered garments, and sweating profusely, had not a single scratch or scar upon their bodies.

Scattered murmurings filled with exhaust escaping the mouths of the downed soldiers.​

"There's no way...you've got to be kidding me."

"Not even 30 seconds in...and he downed the entire division in a flash...is this some kind of joke?"

"Just who the hell is this guy?"

"All I did was blink, what the f-."

Turning the pages of his book and sifting through the contents inscribed on them, the title of the book had been revealed in a quick glance as the shadows danced around enough for it to be made out clearly.

"Principles of Kaido II"


"I see...interesting."

With such an ambiguous verbalization, it was unbeknownst whether or not the young boy was referring to the contents on the pages he was actively reading, or the two remaining soldiers left standing directly behind him. A pale slender female with a pure white streak in her hair that he couldn't help but notice - giving her an instant recognition as being part of the Kiyoshi clan. Along with a rather young male he'd never encountered before during his leadership over the division thus far, perhaps he was fresh in from the Academy?

After his initial placement as the Lieutenant of the Sixth Division, and his rather unknown status throughout most of the Seireitei, it was obvious to say he encountered opposition upon entry. Not too many individuals were ever likely to simply accept the command of a stranger and expect to abide by their directives and calls. It would have been far stranger if he hadn't encountered some form of adversity...yet to think that adversity was the entirety of the Division in itself certainly was just as unusual and absurd. However barbaric it might have seemed in his eyes, if it was necessary to gain the trust and recognition of the Division he currently presided over, nothing was too much.

A display of strength, levelheadedness, and confidence were essential before a warrior could place their lives in the hand of another. Suddenly shifting the remaining pages of his Kaido studies forward at once, the man would slide what appeared to be an official folded document from against the hardened back of the book. An image of a man with an extensive list of unknown details seemingly decorating the pages. An obvious shift in the man's demeanor following, as if in response to gazing upon the slip, before turning around focusing an intense glare on the last two soldiers standing in his unit. It was as if a hidden nerve had been struck, and his demeanor had turned harsh and cold in an instant.​


"This is no longer a game; this is an example. You will either defeat me here and now, or you will die trying. If you even think about holding back or fleeing, I'll end your life where you stand, along with your companions. Now fight."

A palpable fear erupted from the masses that would soon evolve into utter chaos and discombobulation. Casting his gaze over his right shoulder, his peering oculars landed upon the two as if seeking to brand the two of them with his sight alone. His narrow fingers crawling up the sides of the book in his left hand before palming the spine of it and slamming it shut as if in declaration that the fight had initiated. Accompanying the slamming of his book, had been the cascading of an overwhelming downward force of Spiritual Pressure. To the soldiers already downed, they would experience the force as if being smacked and crushed by a downward tsunami, as they struggled in vain to find their balance. Their breathing patterns had been disrupted, along with their circulatory functions, syncing of their internal organs. and sense of time. The ones unable to hold their own against the weight had about two to five minutes tops before giving way to the pressures and imbalances being exuded in mass, surviving their own bodily functions malfunctioning and going against them. So too would be the case if the two standing soldiers had not taken care to combat the exertion of his Spiritual Pressure.

Exactly what was going on? Why did the man's disposition change so suddenly? Was the boy really prepared to kill members in the Division he presided over? Would the two soldiers be wise enough to initiate an attack before Eizoku decided to launch his own? Only time would tell.​