[BSD-RP] The Valley of Screams
- Thread starter Shinigami
- Start date
Shinigami
Administrator
The summons came as they had done so several times before. Another name was brought before the Captains to fill the void left by those long since lost in the belly of hell. The individual showed promise; whit, talent, and the mental fortitude necessary to lead. On paper he was a perfect candidate, the only question was—how these talents would serve him in the heat of battle.
Both life and combat were ever changing, in constant flux. How many dared to flaunt their brilliance to their peers, to proclaim a sense of greatness, strength and splendor only to fall short when and where it mattered most? Kyomu had long since lost count.
It was there, waiting for him silently atop his desk. A white envelope sealed with the mark belonging to the First Division. It was a sign that this was an executive command, issued by the Head Captain himself. It was highly unlikely that the Commander would take the time to write out his orders, he was not such a man. No, one from his office had done this, a means to inform the Captain that its contents were to be taken as the will of the Commander, revoking his right to decline or ignore its command. Captain Mukuro didn’t need to read the message itself to guess its contents. Yet read it he did, in hopes of being surprised.
Fingers broke through the wax sealing the envelope shut. Carefully he pulled the paper from within, unfolding it casually with his thumb, impassive eyes dancing from one end to the other.
It was just as he had thought...they were forcing him to face off against another would be Captain. His grip on the note tightened for a moment, his countenance, an indecipherable mask. His hold on the paper loosened, allowing it to drift from his fingers. Its floating descent was short lived, a heavy ’THUD’ rung heavy within the confines of his office. The letter now found itself pinned to the adjacent wall, a small black dagger-like blade embedded within the center of the letter.
Several days had passed and the hour was upon them.
The paper doors of the Senkaimon opened up, sparse rays of light and barren ground of a desolate world welcomed the odd pair. Kyomu was the first to exit, geta silently carrying him from the boundaries of the Senkaimon and further into the valley. As always, the Captain was eerily silent, in both voice and action. The man, absent of any presence to be felt or discerned, his reiatsu completely insulated within the fabrics of his attire, removed from one’s ability to readily detect or observe it. A cursory glance showed the Captain in simple attire, armed with nothing save his zanpakuto at his side, fixed and situated to his left hip. Studying him further would reveal nothing else, nothing of note at least. Those even slightly aware of the man’s reputation were well aware that it was impossible to tell what number of weapons lay hidden on his person at any given time.
Yū Nakamoto of the Fourth Division, that was his opponent for today. In many ways, the lad mirrored the assassin. Where one Healed, the other harmed. Where one worked to ensure life, the other assured its end. A healer and a killer; a bringer of life, and a harbinger of death—two sides of the same coin, opposite in every way, yet identical all the same. It was, poetic irony in a sense. In another world, another life, another time, another place the two might have been friends—but here they were, in this world, in this life, at this time, and at this place. Now was not the time for philosophical sentiment and pondering, now was the time for duty and battle.
Their journey took them sixty meters out from their point of arrival, Kyomu saying nary a word throughout their travel. His steps and attire offered no sound to fill the silent void between them, and if not for the man’s shadow it would be impossible to tell if he was truly ever there. After what surely felt like ceaseless walking….Kyomu finally stopped, with no hints, signs or forewarning to the man’s abrupt halt.
”Here. This is far enough.”
The specter finally spoke, turning to now face the second man he was forced to face in combat. He couldn’t help but think of his first examinee, the taste of disappointment still fresh with him. How would this new face fair? He would have to come at Kyomu with everything he had, to use those hands and skills to harm rather than help. If Yū was to survive this ordeal, it was imperative that he fought with the intent to kill, not heal...his opponent certainly would. The moment the exam began Kyomu would become his enemy;things like mercy and hesitation were foreign sentiments to the Captain to begin with, and certainly wouldn’t be shared here and now.
As always, Captain Mukuro’s stance left much to be desired. His blade remained sheathed, his form riddled with openings—three to his back, one to his left, several to his right. They were blatant, almost inviting, and hung heavy with a sense of imminent death for any brave or foolish enough to dare such welcoming paths.
”Whenever you’re ready. Let’s get this over with.”
His impassive voice made it clear the man was less than enthused about being there, then again...he was never one for idle chatter or mincing his words. He’d gathered all the necessary intel on his target. Yū Nakamoto, a healer of great repute, and a supposed master in the Demon Arts and Shunpo. It would certainly be a sight to see, the man’s shunpo stacked up against Captain Mukuro’s.
The ball was in his court. Could the Angel challenge the Phantom? Kyomu stood idly by for the male to ready himself, how long he would wait was anyone's guess. Captain Mukuro was not a patient man after all.
Shinigami
Administrator
He would be a dirty liar if he was to confess he wasn’t nervous. Yū had known of his examination date for some time now, which only proved to torture him as it was all he could ever think about; The constant reminder of his peers wishing him luck and telling him “You got this!” as the dreaded day came closer did nothing but make him question his own skill and merit.
It didn't help that Captain Mukuro of the Second Division was to act as the proctor for his exam; Yū didn’t know much about the man aside from his general appearance and reputation. On the rare instances that he had found himself with some business in southeast Seireitei, he would occasionally catch glimpses of the man, oftentimes berating his lieutenant or brooding in some dark corner or alleyway. Despite never formally having met, Yū had unfortunately become well-acquainted with the captain’s haunting presence as he always seemed to be the star of his anxiety-ridden nightmares. While in other scenarios the angel would find little reason to complain, he more than didn’t enjoy the heart-stopping moment of meeting death in the face night after night whenever he shut his eyes and lay in bed to rest.
It was clear Yū definitely didn’t give himself enough credit. Rising to the occasion as the division’s highest-seated member after Captain Kuchiki and her lieutenant’s disappearance, all eyes turned towards him to take charge, because… who else was there to turn to? Although reluctant at first to take charge and struggling to gain admiration from others in the division due to their previous captain’s aggressive nature, in time they have come to understand Yū’s values and leadership ability. Eventually garnering the respect of all the division’s Shinigami and nurses in the relief station, it was actually them who suggested Yū to apply for captaincy, even going as far as formally applying in his name after a ”I guess it wouldn’t hurt…” comment from the meek shinigami.
Funny how that one small remark led him to the battlefield today.
“Here. This is far enough.” the captain had uttered.
So, it did speak. The two hadn’t exchanged words their entire journey, only having stole glances once on their initial meeting. Yū’s reasoning was simply due to pure intimidation, but what was his? Disdain? Apathy? Something else entirely? The man truly was impossible to read, even for a self-proclaimed empath like Yū. Whatever emotional baggage the captain was carrying would have to be disregarded– he knew it wouldn't be a factor in the heat of the battle against the arrogant assassin.
As expected, the young medic had done more than his fair share of research on the captain albeit with little actual result. No real background of any kind nor striking information on abilities was able to be turned up besides the obvious: speed that rivalled his as well as his clear infamy for leading the second division– containing shinigami all honed to be masters in the art of assassination. While admirable to some, respected by most and feared by all, these same emotions were not present within Yū. “So he plays dirty, hmm?” he ruminated to himself. While he could barely understand and accept the brutes of the eleventh division who cherished a good fight with their large muscles, and large swords, and even larger egos, at least they were straight-forward about it.
It was the act of deception with respect to combat that left a despicable taste in his mouth.
Halting on the captain’s command, a fair amount of distance (5 meters) was left between the two. A brief moment of tense silence was shared between the two shinigami, an unpleasant moment that stretched on for what seemed to be 30 seconds until it was broken once again by an indifferent Kyomu.
“Whenever you’re ready. Let’s get this over with.”
Straightening his back to face Kyomu fully and wholeheartedly, Yū’s entire demeanor seemingly had changed. It was more than clear the man before him had low hopes for the shinigami– he wouldn’t be the first nor the last, but Yū knew it was necessary to change the phantom’s opinion about him; Or at least, impress the phantom enough so he could even have an opinion about him. Even if he disliked him and his supposed values, or lack thereof, he would need to perform at his best if he didn’t want to disappoint those that were supporting him. After all, he was pretty much doing this all for them.
Shaking off his nerves almost immediately, Yū acknowledged Kyomu's less than enthusiastic remark with a shout of bursting confidence.
“Yes, Captain Mukuro!”
Listen while reading
At this exact moment without any type of forewarning, six rods of yellow light would materialize instantly, finding themselves joined together with Kyomu’s torso at its center. The captain would find it near impossible to actively dodge the already formed Kido with no prior indicating sign in the boy’s demeanor nor incantation spoken nor even announcing his Kido spell. It was a shame a mere kidō expert had found himself against a master, even if he was a so-called Captain; In this moment, he would be at the whim of the one and only Kidō Prince. (鬼道王子, "Kidōoji")
The captain would find his arms locked to his sides, cinching his waist in forcefully and effectively immobilizing even the strongest of Shinigami, even for the slightest moment, which was all Yū needed.
With his palm facing outward, Yū raised his right arm in front of him, his left having come to grip his right forearm. Only with a single breath did a similarly-colored energy engulf his palm, charging up for nearly half a second...
"Bakudō #63. Sajō Sabaku!"
...before firing into numerous strands of light. Upon casting, the already-present rods that found themselves binding the captain would thicken, transforming into a rope-like shape and wrapping themselves around the entirety of his body. Outstretching to grab ahold of his legs, they would twist around the entirety of his lower body, constricting tighter and tighter from his waist all the way down to his ankles. This same effect would apply to his upper body, further immobilizing his arms and wrapping from his chest all the way to his neck with the obvious intent of suffocating him.
In the short time it took for all of this to occur, the remainder of the strands of light would reach the captain as well, more than tripling the strength of his restraints. As the serpentine ropes slithered and further constricted Kyomu’s body, Yū would clap his hands together in front of his chest and exclaim…
"Bakudō #75. Gochūtekkan!"
Straight away they fell– five, gargantuan, iron pillars rained from the sky above Captain Mukuro’s location with no sign of slowing down. It only took a matter of seconds for them to arrive at their target and upon impact, they would pin the already crippled captain onto the bedrock, inviting a large cloud of dust to erupt from where he once stood. Having relocated himself several meters back upon the pillars’ impact, the angel hovered casually above the slowly settling dust cloud. While he seemed tranquil on the outside, his attention was strongly fixed on gaining some type of reading on Kyomu; there had to be something. Looking back, even from their initial meeting in Seireitei, Yū had been unable to truly sense Captain Mukuro in every sense of the word which was unsettling... and now that same uneasiness had returned.
Could his kidō combo really prove to be dominant over the master of assassins?
‘No way…’ he mused.
Shinigami
Administrator
Yū stopped as instructed, and unlike the proctor, he wore his emotions on his sleeve. Like Kyomu’s previous examinee, the male before him had eyes that reflected doubt and uncertainty. The boy had reservations, doubts of his own ability. Despite this he was led here to this stage not out of pride or ego, but rather duty.
Interesting.
Kyomu spoke once more, announcing the start of the exam. His fellow blonde adjusted his posture, and like that the air about the healer shifted. The timid and uncertain fragile thing, quickly replaced with one of conviction. Still the Captain appeared distant, and unmoved. Though his eyes were fixed on the young combatant, it was as if he stared beyond the male that stood before him.
“Yes, Captain Mukuro!”
The boy cried out, his voice filled with resolve, and carrying with it his opening gambit. A hexad of rods, glowing a bright yellow formed around the Captain’s form, slamming together against the midsection of the man reflected before the Spell Caster. It was a spell easily identified by both those initiated and uninitiated in Kidō.
Yū continued on, pressing his perceived advantage from his surprise assault on Kyomu.
"Bakudō #63. Sajō Sabaku!"
The second spell cast, almost immediately shadowing the other with outstretched palm. A rope, similar in color to the summoned rods launched to snake its way about the Captain’s image. Still Yū was hardly satisfied, and did not let up, not even for a moment. Hands clasped together in a fierce and echoing CLAP.
"Bakudō #75. Gochūtekkan!"
A thunderous crash came with the fall of the massive pillars of iron. The valley floor shuddered beneath the weight of their descent as a cloud of dust erupted to cover the entirety of the area.
The Kidō Master had concurrently retreated to fully gauge and canvas the fruits of his labor. It was an impressive and powerful combo. The male acted promptly, and did his best to hide his hand until it was too late. It seemed logical enough, after all he was a virtuoso in the art of Kidō, something Kyomu himself was far weaker at.
The dust cloud continued to linger, and still there was no response. Yū’s opponent had done nothing to combat or resist the volley of binding spells, allowing the young prince to act uninterrupted. A second passed, followed by another. Not a sound was made save the blowing of the winds, the echoes produced from the iron pillars fall fading into the vastness of the valley. No groan of pain came from being buried and pinned beneath their weight, no roar of anger or cry of surprise came from the Angel’s opponent; there was only stillness to be found within the still lingering dust cloud. How many seconds had passed at this point, twelve? Fifteen? Still, no reaction from the Phantom. And then-
They came, or rather it came. Kyomu’s counterattack. Genzōken was lunged towards the hovering blonde. Left jugular, left clavical, right thigh, right forearm, left side, the spine, the back of both shoulders respectively, the back of both knees. All targeted concurrently with one another, silently and instantaneously. The moment any one blade was perceived all were meant to pierce and cleave through their respective targets. It was an encirclement of blades, the male flanked from nearly all sides save for above and below.
The dust finally began to clear, revealing the pillars embedded into the bedrock, cratered and fractured beneath them, with nothing but the valley’s floor, ruined underneath.
As covert as Yū’s blitz attack was, it was still not enough to escape Kyomu’s scrutinizing gaze. True enough, the boy chanted no incantation, called forth no name, and made no physical motions indicative of preparing any form of attack. His eyes, steeled by conviction, resolve stared straight ahead and did little to betray his thoughts, yet he remained an open book to the Assassin.
Ever observant and cognizant of himself, his surroundings as well as his opponent and their own surroundings, there was little that escaped the Captain. In this particular instance, it was the subtle patterns of the physician’s own spiritual power that was the tell. Where Kyomu perceived next to nothing from the actions, or rather inactions of Nakamoto’s body, there was much to be gleaned from the manner in which his reiatsu fluctuated and moved.
He watched, quietly, seemingly doing nothing as he remained silent in observation. With the shifting of the male’s posture and the air about him, seemingly inconsequential acts and facts about the opponent, came the careful shifting of reriyoku weaving and empowering the spells to be cast.
It was a brilliant ploy, one that would threaten a number of layman pitted against the master—however, today he was faced with Kyomu. An assassin of the highest regard, the Captain left nothing to chance, and disregarded nothing observed or perceived by him. He was already aware that his opponent was prepared to act, the question was, how. The chances of him coming at him with blade in hand, though not non-existent was low enough to be ruled out. Given his size and build, as well as the very nature of his character and all that Kyomu had learned beforehand, Hakuda was out of the question. So, what then?
Yū Nakamoto was one who had devoted the entirety of his being in the disciplines of Hohō, healing, and Kidō...so, Kidō it was. If so, then in what manner? What spell or spells would he use? The Phantom had no way of knowing for sure, yet he had narrowed down the route his opponent would take in regards to his approach.
Like Yū, he offered his opponent no signs or forewarning to his own actions. Stepping from the space which he occupied, time seemed stalled, frozen as his movements became imperceptible. Transitioning from one place to another in that single step, his image lingering behind. The speed in which he moved and the speed in which Yū attacked, even Kyomu’s shadow would still be perceived within that single instantaneous change of inertia to movement, action from inaction.
The light from the rods, bright and brilliant, along with the same dazzling glow from the winding rope, coupled with the volley of attacks launched in quick succession, Yū hardly had the time to truly study the opponent before him, to sit and notice any discrepancies in the man’s image or form. His desire to act swiftly while he believed his hand to still be hidden was a trait to be admired, especially given the very nature of the Captain and the Division in which he led...but the boy was reckless, careless. He perceived only the present, the here and now and what was before him, disregarding his surroundings. He perceived an opening, and launched onto it without a moment’s delay.
Dissolve into the darkness...erase your breath...wait for an opening to attack your opponent.
Analyze the target, watch and scrutinize to predict their thoughts and movements.
Neutralize the target before they notice your presence.
These were the ironclad statutes of an Assassin, the rules which the Mukuro heavily conducted themselves by. Silence, transpositional thinking, and speed. Statutes which, if studied and followed by the opponent might have assured the success of his ploy. Unfortunate, but not unexpected. This was the difference between the Doctor and the Assassin, a healer and a killer.
An instant. That was how much time Yū would perceive he had to act to avoid being slashed or impaled by any one blade, where in truth it was even less time than that. There wasn’t time for deep thought, planning, studying to try and discern which blade among the many was a true threat and which others could be faints, no room for scouting or hesitation. Instinct, reflexes, and reaction time were the only things which could be relied upon towards this swift and sudden perceived threat.
Flanked on nearly all sides, would the ’Angel’ choose to sacrifice his body to land a counterstroke? Or perhaps his mastery in the Demon Arts would spare him from the pain sure to come should he take the brunt of this abrupt assault. There was the chance his speed in which he prided himself in would aid him if properly coupled with his reflexes.
It would be clear to Yū that Kyomu aimed to play for keeps, the gravity of the importance of his performance made clear. Should the man falter in any way, the severity of the consequences would be dire, to say the least. Would the Angel of the Seireitei rise to the occasion, or fall from grace at the Phantom Blade.
Shinigami
Administrator
A heavy silence filled the valley with the loud crashing sound of the iron pillars having long since faded. The large cloud of dust that had been produced from their impact had taken ages to clear, still obscuring Yū’s vision to confirm whether his combo had truly been successful or not. The Phantom was devoted to remaining faithful to his title and every second that passed with silence bothered him and proved to make him increasingly more tense.
”Above… below… behind...“ the angel muttered, frantically peeking above him before gazing at his feet. The angel now turns his neck to look over his shoulder...
‘Here!’
Out of seemingly nowhere the blades come out in full force, piercing through the fabric and shredding their target to indiscernible fragments. Whatever blades proved to be artificial would slice cleanly through the cloth while the material ones would find themselves doused in blood. However, the assailant would see none of this for themselves: all Kyomu would see was…
Red.
Large plumes of thick, billowing, smoke would erupt from where the boy once stood, shrouding the vicinity around him and much farther in crimson smog. It would be unclear what transpired within the smoke as it was much too thick to see anything through it, but Kyomu would instantly know his attack failed to connect… fully.
The red smoke would take awhile to dissipate, only after the dense smoke began to let up slightly would any onlookers be able to understand what had happened. Seen following the wind along with the scattered smog, Yū’s tattered sleeve would be visible drifting aimlessly where he once hovered. But, what of Yū?
Simultaneously flattening his body out from the incoming assault by twisting to the right and flash stepping away, Yū’s form would barely be present to even comprehend the full magnitude of the captain’s attack upon his arrival. It would only be on his reappearance further back some more feet that the results would make themselves known. Gritting his teeth, his right hand reached to grip his shoulder in a display of physical pain. While near none of the blades reached their intended targets, Yū’s left sleeve would be slashed off at the forearm with minute amounts of blood dripping down his arm and staining his Shihakushō. Varying other lacerations and minor puncture wounds were also scattered on his abdomen, back, as well as his garments, however, his legs and neck came unscathed. While they were wounds that would need to be tended to immediately, albeit not fatal, there was still a more important matter to attend to: leveling the playing field.
Directly after Kyomu’s assault upon recovery, Yū had once again noted how the lack of reiatsu pouring out from the man. ‘So, it’s deliberate… he’s clearly put himself at an advantage here: I can’t sense him, but I’m like a beacon to this guy,’ the angel contemplated. ‘And his speed… it’s clear he’s crazy fast, maybe even faster ‘cause I can’t see it coming–” he continued before pausing. Just like that, Yū understood what his next step needed to be and without a second thought, any indication of reiatsu that was emanating from the angel had vanished.
The assassins weren’t the only ones trained to hide; Historically, medical shinigami have been primed with the ability to boast their reiatsu in order to draw attention so the wounded know where they can find safety, however, concealing their reiatsu was just as stressed for their personal safety. While these glorified murderers obscured their presence to go for the kill, the saving grace of Seireitei required this of themselves out of survival. It seemed today however, that the angel would need to follow the assassin’s blueprint closely if he didn’t wish to be incapacitated this early in the game.
Drawing his zanpakutō from his sash, but not yet unveiling its blade, Yū proudly declared...
“Let light rise and demons fall, Ichikō.”
A white luminescence pierced through the slow fading carmine veil before the smog was instantly disseminated as the angel’s zanpakutō seemingly dissolved into orbs of light. Just as swiftly as they appeared, the tiny globes further evolved to take their true form: a flurry of teal-colored butterflies that swarmed the boy’s form.
The blood that had once soaked his Shihakusho began to recede into their indiscernible mouths and the wounds that were scattered throughout his body began to glow a visible bright green. Swiftly, the small amount of reiryoku he had expended on his prior kido combo returned to him and the gashes sustained closed shut, save for the one on his arm. At equal speed, a fine silk was produced from a handful of the insects, wrapping around the entirety of his left forearm as a bandage. A gauze-like substance slightly oozed from the bandages and whatever the liquid was, it proved to provide some type of relief for Yū as his once-present painful grimace subsided exponentially.
As his ethereal companions tended to his wounds with haste, the angel readied his stance for another sneak-attack from Captain Mukuro. He wouldn’t be surprised if the phantom lunged at him again with another act of deception– this time, there would be nowhere for either of them to hide.
This time, Yū would be prepared.