[BSD-RP] The Valley of Screams

[Shinigami]

The Valley of Screams, a place that serves as a Stage, a Ring, and for some...a grave. It is in these barren lands that Omoni Hageshi touches down. The Monstrous woman ventures further into the Valley, the weight of each step felt along its lifeless grounds. She walks unburdened by doubt, hesitation, and fear — no, her desire for battle, to test herself against a strong opponent, a worthy opponent is all that sits at the forefront of her mind.
A passing cloud of dust obscures the maiden’s vision, a temporary nuisance that soon passes. An hour well past the time set aside for the test to begin, unintentionally forces whoever was meant to meet her to wait for her arrival. Now, it is Omoni’s turn to wait, and so wait she does, for what other choice did she have?
Step
Step
Step
She continues her trek into the open barren valley, unimpeded by anyone, or anything. For all intents and purposes, the Captain hopeful appeared alone in this desolate world. She walks in silence, save for the sound of her heavy steps, any thoughts whistling through her mind, and of course...the incessant nagging berating voice of her very own Zanpakuto, Namakizu. Seconds seem to dawdle and stretch into eternity as she continues her directionless journey. The sights around her never seem to change, for there are no trees or shrubs, or lakes or ponds to decorate this deserted realm. How far had she ventured from her point of arrival? How long had she walked? Was she traveling in a straight line? Had she passed by this place before? Was the test called off due to her tardiness? Countless questions that any normal individual would ask when left to wander aimlessly for so long. Omoni however, was hardly normal. These are questions that the Lieutenant would perhaps never even think to ask or ponder on. Perhaps this wait, this dreadful eternity of silence was but a small price to pay to the woman in exchange for a thrilling confrontation.
The seconds eventually crept and crawled into minutes, minutes that seemed to pass just as slowly. Omoni continues her venture. As her feet makes contact with each gradual step taken there is an image.
Step
Slash
Omoni steps and her head slides cleanly off its perch, rolling onto the ground.
Step
Slash
Her body, perfectly intact, takes another step. This time an image of a blade jutting through her chest from behind plays out, puncturing through her heart before slicing both it and her in half.
Step
Slash
Once more she steps, and like before another vivid image of her mutilation plays out. The weight of her step causing her body to come undone, thin lines nearly imperceptible to the eye, decorates her body before limbs, head and torso collapse onto the Valley’s floor.
This process continued again and again, over and over throughout her silent journey. They are images that Omoni remains ignorant to as they are played out not in reality, nor within her own battle fueled mind. These are thoughts reserved solely for one whose existence is drenched in blood and death. They’re the thoughts of a killer.
”Stop, we’ve walked far enough.”
Finally, after nearing an hour there is a sound other than those of her own steps. There is a voice that belongs neither to her nor Namakizu. The voice ordering her to stop comes from behind her, nearly six feet back. Behind Omoni stands Captain Mukuro of the Second Division and Commander of the Onmitsukido.

Kyomu stands in silence, his hand resting comfortably atop the hilt of Genzoken. His eyes are deadpan. Unlike Omoni who is thrilled at the prospect of this engagement, Kyomu seems uninterested completely. Where Omoni perceives a challenge, he perceives a chore. True to his namesake, not a sliver of reiatsu seems to exude from his body, not a trace of his presence can be felt. What is equally alarming is his choice in words. When he called out to the Monstrous Maiden, he had told her that “they’d” walked far enough. The Lieutenant though no scholar is smart enough to know what this means, to infer that according to Captain Mukuro, while Omoni believed she had been traveling in solitude all this time, that was not the case.
Since the passing of the dust cloud that had temporarily impaired her vision, the Captain has been in her company, silently joining her with muted airy steps as she ventured further and further into the Valley. He studied Omoni in full from her gait, to her posture, the weight behind each step, her breathing pattern, the flow of her reiryoku, the natural pattern of her reiatsu that both covered and was exuded from her body. Once he had studied her to his satisfaction he ran scenario after scenario on the best way to kill her. Unbeknownst to Hageshi, in the span of their travel, Kyomu had killed and mutilated her a dozen times over within his mind.
”You’ve spent much time serving under that boy you call your Captain. You’d better pray you haven’t picked up any of his weak habits.”
He announces after holding his peace for nearly a minute. He offers her no greetings, no pleasantries, no true words of encouragement. Simply looking into his amber hues would be enough to inform Omoni that Kyomu would have no qualms cutting her down, nor any reservations in killing her. How would the Lieutenant fair against an opponent who’s movements and presence seemed imperceptible, while wielding a blade that rendered the strength and durability of both her body and reiatsu composed armor useless? Questions that only Omoni could answer, questions one could only hope she had answers to. If she wanted to don the Haori, desired to call herself a Captain, to be considered peer to not only her proctor but her own Captain as well
she’d have to put her life on the line to achieve it.

 

[Shinigami]

“ Stop, we’ve walked far enough.”
Wandering along for what would feel like days for someone felt like seconds to Omoni. The woman was so used to not having an inkling as to where she was going half the time that she traveled that walking alone like she had been didn’t bother her in the slightest. As she was scrutinized inside of Captain Kyomu Mukuro’s mind nothing about her changed. Not until his voice came from nowhere. There was no impression that she was surprised or even unnerved in the slightest that his presence was there but before it wasn’t. All of this entirely eluded the Lieutenant and she turned toward where the voice had come from.
A couple of things had been made clear to Omoni by way of his arrival. One was that the man before her looking at her as if she were another corpse in the world was extraordinarily silent. Having said that, if he was or he wasn’t Omoni probably wouldn’t have noticed him. She had been so distracted by the prospect of having a magnificent fight that anyone could have been strolling by her side and they would have gone overlooked. So the awe of such a striking thing was lost on the thick headed woman. The second, was that he didn't looked at all enthused about having to fight her and that immediately pissed her off.
A permeated look of boredom etched into her face remained as she looked him up and then down. Who he was had been lost on her too. As shocking as it would be, Omoni did not know much of anything about nearly every Captain of the Gotei 13. Least of all, him. In fact, if you asked Omoni what she knew about Kyomu Mukuro she would have answered with something along the lines of..." Who’s he?” This was not a dig at his infamy, if anything it was a detrimental sign as to how out of touch she really was. All that she knew of a name that sounded remotely similar to his was that the kid didn’t like him. Not at all. During their lengthy discussions which were rare occurrences due to how busy the both of them were, there had been one man the kid could never stop growling about. Omoni’s thoughts were ones that rampantly compartmentalized and this name became ‘The Snake' in her world. By the way he lacked any kind of emotion in his cool golden eyes she had already assumed that he was before her. Coiled. Waiting.
" You’ve spent much time serving under that boy you call your Captain. You’d better pray you haven’t picked up any of his weak habits.”
You better pray I have. Now if there was one way to tick off Omoni Hageshi, it was talking ill about the kid. Captain Nakamoto was one of, if not the most important person in her life and held to the highest of regards.The fact that he appeared to be amongst those Kyomu most disdained didn’t sit right with Hageshi and that showed in her expression twisting with anger. Who the hell does this shrimp think he is?! Hang on...This is the guy the kid has to deal with all the time. Oh, this is gonna be fun. Unlike her young Captain, she had no desire to verbally joust with Captain Mukuro. Anything that she retorted with would have fallen onto uncaring ears anyway. Some people couldn’t be reasoned with and Omoni was capable of detecting that in the people she'd met throughout her nine hundred year lifetime. However, as irritated as she became, something else was bothering her. It wasn’t often that a chill of fear gave her pause. In fact, it was right to state that the woman possessed no ability to process terror of any kind and yet...even she with the worst track record for observation could tell that the moment the two of them clashed would kick off a hell-raising encounter that could end in her death if she wasn’t a little more careful than usual. Which begged the question whether Hageshi was truly as ignorant as it was perceived. Maybe she didn’t even know she could feel something like that at all. Was she was getting better?

Inside of the realm of the Zanpakuto, The Oni Empress leaned forward on her throne. A new sense of elation flashed in those red eyes as all of the pieces came together. To her majesty, it was apparent that this opponent was not only a Captain but the most dangerous amongst the Gotei 13. To think that they would send the phantom assassin to test her wielder...they really must have wanted to get a show of the best that she had to offer. Or die alone with no title and a memory that would fade to nothing within days. It really was the ultimate exam and that lit a fire under the giant causing her to rise to her feet and take hold of the club now the size appropriate for her gargantuan build. As far as she knew, Kyomu Mukuro and Omoni had yet to actually come face to face in any sense. However, with his reputation for being anywhere without anyone being aware of his presence, that could be entirely untrue. Gods knew that Omoni wouldn’t have noticed him if he had spied on her or not somewhere down the line. There was no way to tell if he knew anything about the way she fought but the safest course of action was to assume he did.
“ This ain’t gonna be like no normal fight we ever seen, KEKEKE! If you wanna live, ya gotta go all out!”
Eight hundred years spanned from the day that Omoni awoke alone in the Seiteitei and beat down bully after bully to that very moment the both of them locked eyes. All of that time up until one hundred years ago, Namakizu refused to allow Omoni to utilize her Bankai. Decades upon Decades she boasted about how Hageshi would never be worthy of using it and yet, those one hundred years ago Omoni and the Lieutenant of the eleventh stood in the face of hellish evil and brought it down with none other than the Highest power that Namakizu could unleash. Somehow, the two resonated and brought Bankai forth. Since then, the techniques had undergone extensive training sessions with the determination and will power to ensure that it was strengthened during those one hundred years past. To pull it off again...

“ NOW, Namakizu!”
“ EVEN THEN, YER’ PROBABLY GONNA DIE! KEKEKEKEKE!!! IT’S KILL R’ BE KILLED!!!”
The fact that this was an official test for Captaincy and the boundaries were in place to ensure killing their opponent wasn't an option did not occur to Omoni or Namakizu. She'd never participated in one of the tests before although she had been propositioned time after time and refused. Therefore, she couldn't have known. However, even with the rules the way that they were, could it be trusted that Captain Mukuro would adhere to them?
The last thing that she heard was Namakizu’s eerie cackle as everything faded to black.

“ BANKAI! ”

It started as a murmur. Potent furor rippled throughout her body. Then that murmur became a rumble. Piece by piece the earth at her feet cracked and waned whilst lifting into the atmosphere void of all sense of gravity. Her breathing became erratic, her vision blurred but only for a split second before she could no longer contain it. Instantaneously, the ground erupted into an enormous amalgamation of hysteric power. Flames made of blue engulfed the woman releasing a shockwave that upset the existing balances. Rocks and debris orbited around the resulting tornado of fire that had encompassed her person. It’s heat burned so fiercely that it’s familiar mirage briefly distorted the image of Omoni who stood fast in it’s eye. Her own, both gleaming cyan were locked on to the Captain that had come to meet her in the Valley.
A gruesome looking giant axe of a blade closely following the aesthetic of the armor took the place of the pair of knuckles in an instant and all without the sword’s usual verbal cue. The intensity of the explosion would serve to deter any attempt to interfere as every inch of her body became encased in fortified armor.
Talking was cheap and if she wasn’t wary she’d likely end up losing her tongue bantering about needlessly. There would be no room for clever comebacks, no time for anything but raw uninhibited battle. Which was a shame in and of itself considering Omoni liked to talk loads of shit with her opponents. It was for enemies that she became a silent force of reckoning. At that point Captain of the second division Kyomu Mukuro had been determined to be an enemy. If the kid didn’t like him she sure didn't either.
Like a train bursting through a tunnel too quickly and veering off the rails, she charged forth. With the rapturous raising of her power so too did her physical attributes and abilities which gave her a significant boost to her speed, leaving cratered ground in her wake. Unable to withstand her take off, the earth recoiled in terror wherever her feet landed during her advance. The closer she got the more it would look as if even her physical form had morphed into something no longer recognizable. Something peering out at him through the fire. A snarling demon. Her intention was to cross the six foot distance and move to cut the snake’s head from his shoulders. By that alone it should have been clear that she was aiming to kill. This was highly uncharacteristic of her but by now it must have donned on Omoni that if she held back even a milliliter that this would be the end of her test and the end of her.

 

[Shinigami]

Hageshi turns to face the Captain, the assassin who had seemingly come to claim her life. Like Kyomu, Omoni is expressionless in the face of her opponent, her emotions, her thoughts veiled behind the veil of indifference. From the look in his eyes she could feel his indifference to not only her life, but perhaps the lives of anyone outside his own in general, and from his words she would tell his blatant disdain and disregard for her Captain, an act that earns the maiden’s silent ire.
In the face of the Phantom’s disrespectful remarks, the giantess says...nothing. She does not devolve into a war of words with the cruel man before her, she does not indulge in his vicious game of insults, she is silent. Good, Kyomu was not one for idle chatter nor did he care to entertain the pointless bravado of those meant to be cut down by his blade. Known for her berserker-like style of combat, Omoni was a warrior believed to know nothing of fear. The stronger her opponent the more excited she became, the more she was hurt the fiercer she fought, it was as if the woman was a glutton for pain. If pain was what the Lieutenant desired, Kyomu would happily oblige.
”Hm?”
As the two silently stare off Kyomu notes the rousing of her spiritual pressure.
“ BANKAI! ”
With a single word the Valley shifted, the ground beneath the woman’s feet began to crack under the intensity of her rising spiritual pressure. As the Valley floor splintered its broken pieces rose into the air surrounding the berserker. Kyomu’s haori flutters behind him as he remains silent, watching the spectacle before him. While he does not appear to move, the distance between them has mysteriously doubled during the rising of her spiritual power. It was as if pressure was building up inside a bottle, pushing against the confines of its container, building and swelling until finally...it exploded.
Flames of blue swirled and rocketed into the air, forming a tempestuous cyclone around Omoni, her image distorted by the heat of the cyan flames. Behind the veil of spiraling and roaring fire was Hageshi transformed, body encased in dark armour, hand gripping the handle of the axe-like blade nearly equaling her in height. The explosive display of her feral spiritual power appearing to run amok was enough to deter nearly anyone who sought to launch a surprise attack, or hoped to exploit any perceived openings.
Kyomu up til now has said nothing else to Omoni and has seemingly done nothing else either other than watch through leering eyes. Was Omoni attempting to try and force Kyomu to unleash his bankai, to pit hers against his own? Was she daring him to face her bankai using only his shikai? Or...was she simply that rattled, that concerned that she felt this was her only option to have any hope of being able to match the man? Whatever her reasons...they didn’t matter, at least not to Captain Mukuro.
Her bankai unleashed, her strength, endurance the intensity of her spiritual pressure, all her physical parameters were greatly augmented, multiplied by many folds. Omoni’s body bursts forth, the valley’s ground rupturing in her wake, torn asunder beneath the weight of her steps. Omoni charges through, her armor-covered body still encased in the blue flames, the woman’s movements a blur, her image difficult to ascertain. Her burning cyan eyes fixed on the still immobile form of the Phantom, her large strides covering considerable ground.
One Step
He doesn’t appear to move
Two Steps
His form still fixed before her gaze
Three ste-
Despite lacking in her ability to sense and discern Spiritual Pressure, and Kyomu’s body seemingly absent of any for her to sense, even she can tell, even she can feel it. Its presence is spontaneous, erupting from nothingness manifesting simultaneously at her three O’ Clock and her eight O’ Clock. It was the concentrated reiatsu of the Captain. By the time this force of tightly compacted spiritual pressure is discerned and brought to her attention, it is perhaps only then that she barely notices the blade arcing up from her waist to her shoulder. By charging towards Kyomu Omoni has propelled herself towards the Phantom’s attack. A veteran of combat perhaps Omoni’s instincts would warn her and perhaps her reflexes would be enough to tear her off course, altering her trajectory away from that incoming blade. Even if she was capable enough, there was still the threat of the blade slashing from her back to her waist in an arcing sweep. Omoni in launching her attack is quickly forced into a pincer attack, the glow of her flames and the speed of the swords’ swings making it impossible to determine whether or not either blade bore a shadow.
With Kyomu’s reiatsu contesting the heat and force of Omoni’s own spiritual pressure, holding it at bay during the course of his attack, all he needed to do was cut her down and move — there was no need for him to stand firm and try to engage in a fight of reiatsu with her. With Kyomu’s blade he could cleave effortlessly through the flames that surrounded her, through the armor that covered her to reach the flesh hidden underneath. A single instantaneous fleeting moment was all it took, and should she notice one blade by then the other would still reach its mark in cleaving through her. Whether or not the Lieutenant chose to advance forward or retreat, her fate remained the same, noticing one blade still left her open to the other, and still demanded Omoni be able to perceive and react to the simultaneous attacks.
Throughout this the image of Kyomu that Omoni had initially charged towards remained rooted in place, fading only after Omoni notices the Captain’s attack...or rather if she noticed it at all.

 

[Shinigami]

Captain Mukuro appeared stationary despite the egregious swelling of Omoni’s spiritual power as Namakizu’s Bankai surfaced. Perfectly poised, his form remained still even as she sped forward he was entirely unmoving. His eyes held the coldness that had played a part in her decision making and by all accounts it looked as if her strike through the air was going to hit it’s mark. Until, that is, without blinking her fiery eyes everything changed.
Though he still visibly stood there in the place she’d known him to be, his signature was suddenly emerging at her two sides. There had been no word to warn her of this alteration and now she the great giant was entrapped between the snake’s fearsome fangs. Hageshi had been able to discern this due to smoking one of her many Kaigan Hameki ( 開眼 葉巻, Enlightenment Cigar; “Eye Opening Cigar”) earlier at her initial arrival. They were a cleverly grown mixture of herbs from her personal garden that bestowed varying properties upon those that burned them. Each one was dependent on the type of plants used to roll them and only Omoni knew for sure which of them did what. This one in particular offered the usually sensory inept monstress who’s skill was no doubt lower than a novice the opportunity to experience that of an expert’s. Since the start of the battle she’d been indulging in this clarified vision and so naturally, Captain Kyomu’s movements came to her attention right away. Not everything was taken into account of course but she was more than capable of seeing and feeling his incoming attacks. It’s then that the Kyomu she had in her sights faded from view.
Knowing this, Omoni’s advance did not falter. Brazenly she burst through his assault and by all accounts it appeared as if she had committed a folly by entirely trusting in the armor covering her to protect her. Not knowing that his attacks could pass through all resistance like a ghost. Unaware that by the time she’d taken another step and braced herself for her next move that the blades had successfully landed and pierced through her fortification.
Perhaps somewhere in the snake’s mind there would be the vision of his opponent crumpling to the ground. The test would end and she would sit bleeding in failure. Or maybe she would rally, surely this would not be enough to stop this beast before him! It could have been true for any that met death by his hand. He fancied imagining scenarios where those who opposed him collapsed in crimson mess. After all, he had done so to her before their zanpakuto had bared their teeth at one another. Maybe she’d die on the spot. Or maybe…
Nothing would happen at all.
The blades had gone through. They’d stabbed into her suit and slipped in as if it had been made of butter. Yet, Omoni cleaved through the attacks entirely unhindered. As if he had not been there at all, as if he had been a spirit or shade. The only evidence that he had struck her had been a pair of cracks left behind in the armor. Without consuming time with flinching from his strikes or making any move to defend the places he aimed for, Omoni followed through with her attack. There was no indication that she was looking for anything much less concerning herself with where his shadow was. That sort of thing didn't cross her mind. Why that was would remain to be seen. Resembling a dance, Namakizu was spun around with one hand by her wielder at a speed remarkably similar to the Captain’s in an effort to cut where she’d perceived those two presences to be in one fell swoop. As it exploded forward it tore up the earth and exuded a ferocious outbreak capable of knocking back a small crowd of soldiers.

Comparatively, the blades and the duo’s builds should have made that impossible. Fervent strength training as well as enduring the might of Namakizu’s calamitous shikai certified that the visually heavy axe could be maneuvered with ease as if it did not weigh a thing. This would give the man little to no time to react.
He was fast. The epitome of fast. So fast that she’d now encountered three of him in the same span of time. Was that really possible? To be so quick that three different versions of one’s self were born? Was this his normal speed or was this something else? All of these questions bombarded Hageshi’s usually empty mind. She was curious. Was this his Shikai or had she succeeded in inviting his Bankai to tangle with her own? At the moment she couldn’t answer those questions. Right now she was paying close attention to his adaptation as to what didn’t occur. There was just one that she could respond to. Would her Zanpakuto hit the elusive target?

 

[Shinigami]

Like the late Captain Kojima, the fallen “Dragon” Lieutenant Hageshi is known to partake in smoking special herbs, a habit turned ritual performed during her venture into this forsaken valley. Smoking away at her special cigar has afforded the giantess abilities typically foreign to her, in this instance it was her perception and detection of spiritual energy and spiritual pressure. Through this heightened perception Omoni perceives the burst of spiritual pressure exuded from the Captain and now perceives the attacks being launched at her.
She believes this new found insight is thanks in part to the properties of the herb she smokes, unaware that what she is able to feel, what she is able to perceive from Kyomu is exactly what he wishes for her to perceive and react to. The proximity of the Captain to her would have assured that regardless of the Cigar, the Lieutenant would be able to feel and detect his spiritual pressure and would thus be alerted to his attack, yet in her battle frenzied state the giantess does not stop to ponder why Kyomu would desire this, she doesn’t stop or pause at all.
The Tank of a woman continued her advance unimpeded. Ignorant to the powers of Kyomu’s zanpakuto, Omoni is met by the blades passing through in their arcing swings. The darkened armour goes untouched, as it passes through the Lieutenant would not feel the sharp biting sting of a laceration or the coldness of steel against flesh, not that such a thing would hinder or bother the brazen battle crazed woman. No, if anything she appeared untouched and unmarred.
Stampeding onward, the fear and hesitation that would hinder another person is absent from the Captain Candidate. Namakizu clasped in her clutches, Omoni swings her axe blade with speeds typically unprecedented for a weapon of such size and weight, a feat achieved in large thanks to Hageshi’s strength further augmented by her Bankai. The massive blade sweeps in a wide arcing swing, while the phantom blades seemingly phase harmlessly through the titan of a woman. The valley floor is torn asunder from that single cleaving swing, chunks of earth uplifted and blown back as dust and debris kicked up as if a storm had swept through along with an oppressive gust of wind. The Captain’s dual forms are lost within the storm of wind, dust and debris that quickly encapsulates the testee. If such a blow could down a small platoon, surely the Captain despite his strength would not, or rather could not fare any better. The monstrous maiden believes that Kyomu had little room to maneuver, and thus little time and little chance to react to her explosive counter-attack against him. Despite such beliefs, the veteran warrior seasoned by constant battle should be quickly aware that despite the strength and speed of her swing, no perceivable resistance could be felt against the blade during its swing.
Within the lingering dustorm of Omoni’s own making fleeting silhouettes could be just barely made out maneuvering through the natural smokescreen, Kyomu’s reiatsu flickering with each one, just barely lagging behind the darkened wisping image obscured by the dusty veil. The silhouette along with the reiatsu showed a pattern, as difficult as it was to detect from the flickering movements — Omoni was being circled. Between each lap for a single instance the image of Kyomu could be perceived, his Zanpakuto streaking towards her throat from the left, Genzoken being thrust towards her right carotid artery, each assault aiming for the single point on her body uncovered by her Bankai’s armour — and for every single lap perceived, two were actually taken.
As an assassin it appeared as if Kyomu was making the most of the impromptu obstruction to the Lieutenant’s line of sight on him, the cloud of dust seemingly breathing within, distorted by both the sudden and casual movements as it begins to recede and die out. Omoni was certainly powerful, and mighty in her own right, but how long could she continue to properly react to multiple lethal attacks from what seemed to be multiple versions of Captain Mukuro, able to Attack on several fronts at multiple different angles at any given moment within an instant?
For centuries Omoni’s name has been brought up among the Gotei 13 to ascend to Captaincy, almost desperately so. Was Hageshi worthy of such attention, of such expectations..or, was she another hapless soul attempting to step onto a stage unsupported by her ability? Both the Valley and Kyomu would observe and bear witness to which Omoni was present. The Captain others perceived her to be..or just another foolish warrior unworthy of their notice. The venomous intense gaze of the vaporous man observing intently her every move, her every twitch, every supple and blatant pulse of reiatsu and reiryoku.
Omoni would either return to the Seireitei as a Captain...or she’d return in pieces.