What brings you here? [Germany][Closed for Paks/Kiriko]

Kiriko stared down at the set of papers neatly placed across her desk. Like little soldiers there was three rows of four, each piece of parchment detailing an ever growing list of spiritualists that Fujikagi and his men had collected notes on. She hadn't wanted to narrow her focus to just Karakura, and Kiriko had spent the better part of last week reaching out to distant contacts to get a better sense of the entire world's population of human spiritualists. The picture that came back was daunting. She had never realized there were so many, and that the stronger ones numbered as many as they did. It was galling, that no one in Soul Society had made a connection yet between these powerful humans and the Shinigami's own goals.

She was determined that when she approached Ine with this information she would do so fully prepared. That meant not just collecting all of these lists of humans, but also gaining a better insight into what it was that motivated them and the potential if any for an alliance. Reports were only going to take her so far. Kiriko trusted her informants, but they were not the type of people who could directly interact with a target and thus all of their information was the type gleaned from gossip, direct observance, or sensory skills. She needed more then that, she needed precision. And sometimes to get the best you had to send the best.

Tracing a finger down a special list, constructed only in the last day, Kiriko scanned all of the names. Quincy, a type of human that most Shinigami tried to forget about. She too had grown up with all of the prejudice against those people, ingrained in her through her training and the rhetoric of her elders. It was an undeniably fact that Quincy destroyed the balance by killing a soul and removing it from the cycle entirely instead of sending it on. But it was also an undeniable fact that some of the Quincy had gained monolithic powers recently, and that they might just be a useful ally to engage when this war was so perilous in its outcome.

New intelligence had come in, briefing her on the nature of Quincy politics. That had been a difficult nut to crack as Quincy were more secretive then their less connected human brethren. She had had to send a lot of operatives to German and oddly Asia just to figure out one name. Weylin Von Wolfenstein, the man who was gathering all of the disparate strains of Quincy blood together to create a kingdom. Or so she had heard, Kiriko was still not positive of the veracity of her intel. It was something she could no longer leave to chance though, this would require a delicate touch. Kiriko trusted her men and their insight, but there was still nothing better then getting the measure of a potential enemy on your own. To know the weight of their stare and the sound of their footsteps.

Putting away the paperwork, she looked at one last note, a description of the reiatsu of this politically powerful man. It wasn't a perfect science, but it was enough information that she should be able to track him down if he really was as powerful as her reports stated. That type of reiatsu overpowered everything around it. Cloaking herself in a gigai, so that her own spiritual essence would be moderated and dulled, she left her office with a quick step. Telling the Senkaimon operator to drop her off in Germany, she ended up landing in the middle of nowhere. It was a small hassle in the big scheme of things though, due to the relative width of the country and her central position. Closing her eyes, Kiriko focused all of her attention into her senses, probing the area for any sign of a high level reiatsu. Almost immediately she felt it, over to her right. A pulsing and thready power.

It took her the better part of an hour utilizing Shunpo to get where she needed to be. To do this right, she would have to set aside her own personal desires and go in as an unaligned agent. The worst that could happen was if she were to create an enemy before she even had the time to sense if this von Wolfenstein could be an ally. With her reiatsu suppressed to the lowest limits, she crept towards the area she had sensed him in, and watched silently as a white haired man went about what looked to be marksmanship practice.

Studying his every move, and his skill, she slowly unveiled her reiatsu in increments. Waiting for when he would notice she was there. Soon the Quincy had stopped blasting away at the ceramic pots, and made a beeline for her location. There was nothing tense about him though, his shoulders were relaxed and his hands loose. Was he really so confident? It was true her own reiatsu was muffled by the gigai, probably she felt like a medium strength Shinigami at best, but it was still shocking. That the most vulnerable type of race in their worlds could so casually approach a predator such as her.

He was polite, and she respected that. Enough to cut to the chase. “Weylin von Wolfenstein? I am Chinda Kiriko, and I am here to observe you. Your actions have brought you to my divisions attention. I admit, I am curious... Just what does it mean for a human to have the type of power that you have? What are your intentions with ruling the Quincy?” There was really no reason for him to answer her blunt inquiries, but she hoped he would. It would not be favorable for either of them if she had to draw them out of his body with force. They were questions that had to be answered though, and honestly. Kiriko was here not just to assess if Weylin was a new threat, but also what if any help he could offer if the Shinigami were to decide to use this new found strength of humanity in their fight against the Hollow-breeds. She had to determine the worth of his very soul. And that was a little bit harder then simply asking him to describe himself.  

WC: 1055 | GP: 21 | Total GP: 21

She hated this. It had been a novel idea, spurred on by her Lieutenant's information on the human scourge. The burgeoning spread of spirituality amongst the humans. Kiriko had followed the politics of the human world with a keen eye, despite her earlier dismissal of their entire nature. She had had to, if she wanted to be on top of an information network worth its salt. And after a while it had been interesting. Tracking the feuds, the alliances, the shifts and gains as human groups died and gave birth and went through all the transmutations of life. The trickiest to find information on had initially been the Quincy. For all the reasons von Wolfenstein espoused. They were a fractured sort, and he was not yet a leader despite her courtesy towards him.

Let it not be said that Kiriko didn't have an ear at every door though. And while she couldn't say she had an extremely full dossier on the Quincy, she did have enough. Bits and pieces of adages and facts. Enough to know that she needed more. Enough to know that she would be the only one capable of getting that information cleanly and without and damage to the political realm of possibilities that were unfolding lately.

Watching him keenly, never shifting in her stance, Kiriko saw what he was so apathetically disguising. In the Quincy's intent to appear 'calm' and at ease she saw beneath the facade and into something deeper. This was a man, who from his own words, had grown up battling the demons of his world. She could see it in the way that he moved, in his eyes and his almost careless use of his power. He was a fighter. A combatant. But not a soldier. And that was what irked Kiriko most about humanity.

They could be so powerful. So dangerous. Have gone through everything imaginable and come out the other end. But they lacked discipline. And they lacked a hierarchy. She didn't expect respect for the Shinigami forces, but she did expect people to at least act as if things were important instead of some great lark. Kiriko wasn't here to chit-chat. She wasn't here to discuss the weather, or clothing, or fond memories. Weylin von Wolfenstein was an apparent leader, he too had to understand when it was time to get down to business. And she hated him for playing this little game, for mocking her like this.

Even so, Kiriko followed him as he turned and walked deeper into this place. Her mouth moving of its own accord, despite her wish to bash the man over the head instead of answer any questions. Didn't he realize she could have done this a whole lot less delicately then she was? Did he take her for a fool? Offering refreshments when the matter at hand was so important? Damn it, Shinigami were the ones with endless time but it was always humans who seemed to feel as if there was a surplus of minutes in the day to waste with pointless words and actions.

“I am from the Nibantai, you are correct in guessing.” She had to wonder where a Quincy had gotten such good of a description of the Gotei. It wasn't overtly obvious that it was the Second that gathered information, not to most outsiders and not even to many Shinigami. Over the years they had been labeled murders, assassins, any number of ugly words. It was a good smokescreen, emotion kept others from realizing what it was that the Second really did. And just how dangerous their work made them. Easier to fear the man with the sword at your back, to think you knew everything about him based on that one fact. Harder to realize what the smoke really meant when you never looked at it head on.

The Quincy's answer was lacking in detail, but at least he hadn't gone off on another tangent. Surprisingly she would have liked to have heard his philosophy, such things were a lot more telling about a man's personality then flat out literal answers. The moment had passed however and it was now lost to time. Kiriko probed around the new information provided, and decided it was sufficient. He had a clear animosity towards the Hollow-breeds. And no obvious issue with Shinigami. The gamble inherent in this meeting had just lessened by a large margin.

“Very well, let us trade back and forth then. By Incursion I will assume you are speaking of Tova and his kins invasion of the human world? The answer is simple, we are not stomaching it well at all. There was a grave... error on our parts during that event and it has caused the higher ups to become distressed. As you may know, we Shinigami responded to the threat, however one of our own went rogue and detonated a massive explosion that served to splinter our forces and eliminate our chance at a successful push-back against Tova and his Arrancar. That very same person has turned their coat, as I think you humans say, and joined forces with the Hollow-breeds. As you can imagine, morale is not exactly high right now in Soul Society as we work to correct that error.” She was curious to know if Weylin even knew about all of that. As far as reports went he had not been in Karakura at the time, and it was not obvious looking in that a Shinigami had been to blame for such devastation. Even so, it was information easily bought – if you had the right sort of contacts. And she wanted him to know, so that they could have an informed conversation later down the tracks.

Kiriko pinned him with her eyes, assessing and weighing the chances for her next action. It was her turn to ask a question. And she knew of the quickest and best way to get the answers she was looking for, she just wasn't sure if von Wolfenstein would withstand the interrogation she had in mind. “Allow me to extrapolate on what you have told me. You Quincy have always fought the Hollow-breeds, but now that the war has come to your lands you want to take power to protect and defend yourself and the rest of the humans. You are grasping at the stars, desperately wishing for enough strength to protect everyone. But you were not able to protect them all, and one such someone was lost to the Primera. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do not think I have failed in reading you. So that leaves me with my next question. Why do you think you can do any different now von Wolfenstein-san? Why do you think you are capable of leading the Quincy into war when you have already failed? The Primera beat you once before, have you really changed since then?” 

WC: 1151 | GP: 23 | Total GP: 44

She studied him passively, her mood improving as Kiriko realized the Quincy was finally settling down. He no longer made all those superfluous gestures, or tried to offer her any other human courtesies. Kiriko felt something relax within her as the two got down to their game. A fierce and tense exchange did more to loosen the tension in her body then platitudes and fake chivalry. He talked about hope, and she didn't fail to notice the way the man grasped at the tiny silver locket at his throat either. Staring at it, she followed the curved edge with her eyes and began to think. Loss and hope. How quaint. That humans could lose and still hold on to such mortal emotions. Kiriko had felt loss in her lifetime, more then anyone should feel. But hope? No – that was not an emotion she deserved. The best she could ask for was duty, the fierce sense of obligation that kept her going. Moving forward.

For von Wolfenstein to have suffered the loss of a loved one against an opponent he could never imagine defeating and still come out the other side clinging to that frail emotion... it was telling. She just wished she knew if it was her soft heart that found it commendable or her analytical mind. He nodded towards her, before finishing with a worldly sonnet. Hope, huh? How strange. She supposed that humans with their weaker constitutions and shorter lifespans had to cling to something, some weapon that their peers could not grasp. Shinigami were nothing if not jaded after a lifetime of conflict. It was odd that humans could suffer so deeply and yet feel such great depths of pure emotions.

“I pray you are able to give hope to the rest of your people. Whatever anyone might say, such emotions are potent to the spirits of men like you,” she murmured faintly, her eyes narrowing in on Weylin's face as he finally answered the real crux of her question. Attitude was all that set two ideas apart. There were two halves to every feeling. That was the complexity of personalities. Sometimes it was a blessing, at other times it was a curse. Von Wolfenstein had seemingly realized an earlier folly, and the truth of leadership. You could not prevent your subordinates from ever suffering, and indeed you merely made them weak by trying. But you could take the larger sacrifices on our own shoulders, as should any good commander. Responsibility and honor necessitated that, at the very least.

Maybe he was ready to lead.

“The event you are asking about has no such name. We call it the Massacre, and you can imagine from that moniker exactly what type of effect it had on the Shinigami. Tova and a handful of Arrancar cut a swath of death through our homeland. We were reduced, in force and in pride. There was some good however, as a flawed leader was cast out and we have regrown stronger then before under new governance. Tova would find it harder to waltz into Soul Society again like he did before. But that is old news, over a year old. Surely you spiritually aware humans have heard this already.”

Kiriko tilted her head, silently asking for an answer to her question. What did humans really know about what went on around them? If Weylin had known there was an attack on Soul Society, he should have at least gleaned the basics. But she couldn't be sure, he hadn't even known what the battle was officially called. Human information networks were notoriously short-sighted.

“I am pleased to see that you have the capacity for emotional leadership. My next question is one composed less of words then actions... Are you capable of leading physically, von Wolfenstein-san? Have you the strength of a King? I wonder... Would you care to test it out? To answer my question unequivocally?” She shifted fluidly, her hand falling to her sword hilt in an unspoken threat.  

WC: 667 | GP: 13 | Total GP: 57

She watched him. Watched him and saw. Saw the way his eyes followed her every movement, the flicker of his irises as if he was cataloging facts and futures. Saw the way his body immediately tensed as her hand dropped to her sword hilt, the flush of reiatsu coloring his body with brilliant blues underneath the thin casing of skin. She could not remember having activated the Kido that allowed her to see reiatsu, but her experience with that spell was such that lately it felt natural – this second sight of hers. There was warning enough in Weylin's internal surge that she realized he had taken her threat quite literally, and before Kiriko could even follow through and draw her blade the man lunged at her.

His footwork was good. Quick, precise, neither wasting energy with wanton gestures nor weakening his force by being too careful in the approach. She admired his form in the space of the half second it took for the Quincy King to enter into her range. Like a well coiled spring, he exploded with all the force of the sun. This would be a good fight, she knew it already. Just from the look in his eyes, the slow inexorably shift of the wind at their backs. As if the very air was screaming at them to test their mettle, to throw caution to the wind and just fight.

Kiriko had few secrets to hold to her chest now that Shunko was a public project. Even so, she did not want to tear the man apart before she even had the chance to see his worth. She was careful not to underestimate him, but a human was still a human no matter how powerful they might be. Kiriko had already discerned von Wolfenstein's strength before they had begun to speak to each other, and she did not need to push here to reassure herself of her insight. What she needed, was to probe inward, beyond the muscle and bone – and into the brain. Did he have the tactics to lead? The mental acuity to wage war? The facilities to be a good and useful ally?

That was best gauged with a little bit of dramatization. Despite the fluidity of Weylin's attack, she could read him a mile away. He would have to do better then that at hiding his intentions if he wanted to catch the Captain off guard. He came towards her like a hurtling train, somehow his speed and force amplified by the reishi coating his body. It was nothing like Shunko, but rather intriguing nonetheless. Was this the fabled Quincy Blut? She let him approach, let him feel the wind in his face and the surge of triumphant elation, before quietly pivoting alongside him. Such obvious strength led to a clear weakness, and Kiriko took advantage of Weylin's powerful strike and the natural momentum of his punch as she slid smoothly to the outside of his arm. Lifting and cajoling with her own limbs, Kiriko slid one hand down the side of his extended arm, keeping the punch flowing and further shunting it away from her new position even as she jabbed with her free fingers at the unprotected joint where Weylin's torso met his hip.

Fighting from such an angle would make it terrifically difficult for him to turn towards her, not when his body was moving in a straight line and he would have to expose his stomach if he wanted to lash out at Kiriko with his left hand as well. Stupid of him to fall for her ploy with the sword, but then again, Shinigami were expected to be masters of their weaponry instead of their own bodies. She wasn't too worried about damaging the human's body. Without Shunko her strikes were more like soft love taps, enough to bruise to the bone but never anything dangerous or harmful in the long run.

WC: 655 | GP: 13 | Total GP: 70

The surroundings seemed to blur out, so fast moved the Quincy, yet his vision remained clear – and his spiritual perception even more so. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl and even slower as his body entered the woman’s range. There was no hesitation in her moves, but the German thought to sense it in her head. She was holding back, that much he new instinctively. Should I be hurt or thankful? Her stance began to shift and albeit Weylin could feel it all clearly it was painstakingly obvious that she was much faster than him, regardless of if she exerted her true potential.

Ahh…as expected. noted the White One and sounded almost pleased. All too readily the woman forsook the blade that was said to be the incarnation of a Shinigami’s soul. She seemed to place her faith, for whatever reason, in herself and with the grace of a cat or even water itself the reaper slid to the closed side of the Quincy’s body, one of her arms softly brushing against his in order to ensure his motion kept up – and to be ready to, to feel the very muscles beneath his skin should something change. Internal Martial Arts then, is it? von Wolfenstein voiced as an hypotheses to himself.

His current position was more than disadvantageous; Weylin needn’t to see her next move in order to know what followed. He himself would aim for the liver or the lower rip, would hope to break it because even if no lasting damage was sustained even a fracture could prove disastrous in a fight on this level. Yet as he felt her muscles brush against his own, felt her Reiatsu permeate through the atmosphere, mingle with his, von Wolfenstein felt as if he knew her hits wouldn’t hurt her – couldn’t, at least not like this. Well even a broken body is not the end for a Quincy. Weylin reflected: Speaking of which…

In an instant the entire momentum of the man seemed to vanished, equaled out by an even stronger force and in a movement that was most unnatural and should not be humanly possible von Wolfenstein’s body turned sideways as to face Kiriko again, right arm still reaching out. As if he was his own puppeteer Weylin used thin strings of Reishi and yanked his mortal shell about. She is fast, he noted as he felt the female’s fingers brush against his side. She is nimble he reflected: I will miss.

Weylin’s mind began to race. Before his mental eye the scenery was displayed in a variety of angles. Her footing, their distance, the potential for a hard counter to the sudden change, her tremendous agility but his unconventional arsenal. And then, born out of the moment, he attached two more string: one from his left hand to her right hand, the other from his right hand to her face. The plan was simple: to immobilize her right, or at least bring it off course and slow down a reaction whilst the string on his other hand would serve as aid to connect to the target. Simultaneously he pulled left and followed through with the right, hoping that the Shinigami would be caught off guard, would be slowed down: in short he was hoping for a small miracle. Wer nichts wagt der nichts gewinnt.

557/50=11,76

The hip. Weylin reflected. Of all the areas Kiriko could have targeted she chose one that wouldn’t have caused a wound, or even so much as a serious injury but a minor inconvenience. A normal fighter would be slowed down by such a wound, have his movements inhibited and against a demon like her that also spells disaster...But she is already faster than me and her persona doesn’t appear to be one that fights with ‘death by a thousand cuts’ in mind, she is too efficient for that. Is her goal perhaps to display superiority? To see how far she can push me? 

The blinking of her black eyes was the only physical reaction to the Quincy’s sudden maneuver, yet von Wolfenstein thought to feel a tint of surprise and confusion in her Reiatsu. The Shinigami’s body however reacted like a well oiled machine. Quickly it balanced the body after the failed attack and as Weylin’s strike, an admittedly painstakingly obvious attack made viable through its swiftness, the previous hoisting of his body and the unconventional targeting system, neared in von Wolfenstein could read her intentions plain as day.

Prognosis should attack fail: Again his mental eye began to project a movie of sorts: Moving to avoid the blow. As if dodging a bullet Kiriko leaned to the side, only her hair being ruffled by the avoided punch. Followed by the targeting of the arm, rapid strikes to the muscles to incapacitate it. The woman’s fists flew forward like vipers. Counter measure: restrict fist targeting biceps to keep arm intact. Strings of Reishi began to envelope her right hand and pulled it back. Other hit: unavoidable. Damage: negligible. Possibility to grab her hand when she retrieves: 65%.

Thus armed reality ran its course again. The woman began to inch her face out of the path just enough to have the hit miss home and leave the Quincy open for another series of her rapid punches. The moment of truth drew closer and closer. Would von Wolfenstein’s plan come to fruition or would it fall apart like a house of cards? Her head moved a centimeter. Another. It stopped, held in place by Weylin’s web! Kiriko attempted to struggle and break free, but fist and flesh connected.

Her head jerked around as the woman utilized the momentum to break free and gain distance from the Quincy. Regaining her footing as quickly as she had lost it Kiriko wiped a drop of scarlet off of her face and seemed to muster Weylin almost in disconcert at the result of Round 1. Almost just as surprised about the fact that it had been he who drew first blood von Wolfenstein almost raised an eyebrow, perceiving a short spike in energy that felt like Kido though he took a guarded pose. He turned his body sideways, majority of his weight on the right foot, which was furthest from her, right hand leveled before his chest, palm facing up, the other formed to a knife hand, edge facing Kiriko.  

Nothing came yet Weylin thought to see a change in the way she looked at him. It was curious, seemed almost questioning me. Is she scanning me? Von Wolfenstein could only conjecture that she was looking for traces of what had stopped her – and moved him. She doesn’t seem too good at feeling energy, but should she see it now…well, that wouldn’t be too nice. Weylin bend the fingers of his right hand once. Hitting her had felt like punching concrete and albeit he had broken rather than being broken the Quincy couldn’t help but marvel at his opponent.

A member of the Second Division, he reflected:Fast, skilled, unrelenting and perseverant…Setting her loose on a target is signing the death sentence. Weylin’s differently colored eyes wandered over her once more. The slender frame, the eyes so black they seemed almost cold-blooded and callous, like those of a shark, hands that could turn a body into a corpse in an instance. She is effective, she’s efficient. He paused, a slight smile appeared on his face as Round 2 began: She’s beautiful.

The woman darted forward with amazing grace and speed, leaving the Quincy little time to react. Out of reflex he kicked at her, did so hard enough to break solid concrete, and yet blessed with an otherworldly agility Kiriko ducked beneath it. Shit! Having gotten distracted by his aloof nature and the Shinigami’s deadly beauty Weylin now fell prey to her superior skills. She swept for his feet and von Wolfenstein didn’t need an analysis to know what disasters her success would result in.

Still retrieving his own leg from the earlier kick the Quincy was left with little choice but to use the same trick again to escape this bloodhound. Pushing himself off the ground to escape the attacking limb von Wolfenstein became his own puppeteer once more. With the precision of a master he twisted his body midair into a summersault and albeit it gave Kiriko enough time to reposition herself for the moment he landed Weylin attached a string to the leg she had used to start her dash on before.

As soon as she moved, he would tug it away from under her, using the resulting unbalance and another string to sweep at her body with his leg.

886/50=17, 93

Ooc: What’s a guy gotta do to get you to show him the goods >: ) (and by that I mean Shunko and nothing else).

She could feel the vibrations from the ground as she lunged, the softer resonance from her lungs as she sucked in deep breaths full of oxygen. Everything about this game was exhilarating. The chase, the speed, the danger. She refused to underestimate her opponent, and yet it was hard to push without smashing her target to pieces. He had proved far more nubile then she had figured but she was still glad to be encased in the thick rubber skin of her gigai. Each layer of inorganic flesh limiting and binding the power at which she was capable of lashing out at.

With her new sight, she could see even more then before. The fragmented slow moving display was now overlaid with the brilliant alignment of reiatsu. A seething mess of dark blue within the body of Weylin, and even smaller ribbons that extended from his hands and feet like grasping tentacles. It reminded her oddly of Kasumi, the young human Kiriko had taught Shunko to. She couldn't sit there and reminisce though, nor could she wonder about the unusual display, as she had succeeded in ducking around a kick aimed to knock her head off her shoulders. In doing so she surged forward, her body pivoting smoothly on one foot as she spun and angled her body around the Quincy. At his back now, she shot a blow towards his ankle, connecting with savage force and the faint tingle of toes hitting solid flesh. Or at least, that was what she thought had happened, as her foot slammed forward but the target miraculously moved in that same split-second of timing. Where once a leg had been left open was now a Quincy jumping above her attack, only the almost ignorable sensation of contact giving insight into just how close she had been to landing the hit.

Weylin flipped forward, his body contorting in a full on somersault that left her breathless with a giddy sort of anticipation. He was good. But she hadn't missed what it was that had allowed the King to do what he had just done, her eyes catching the lingering thread of blue reishi connected to his body that had pulled him up and out of the way. He might have dodged a bullet, but she now knew what it was that he was doing. Even if she couldn't explain how, Kiriko had enough information to avoid that trick from now on. And her acute vision picked up the telltale flicker of blue as a line snaked towards her own body, discretely trying to wrap its way around her ankle.

Ha! So that was how he had held her in place before. Rather crude, but effective nonetheless. With a simple chopping gesture she sent out a burst of her own reiatsu, cutting the line in half. Weylin was still falling though, landing in sleekly as he kicked out at her while tugging on the string that should have been attached to her foot. He had obviously been expecting her to come tumbling with it, down into the brunt of his kick. Instead, Kiriko's hand flashed out to grip the heel of her target's foot. Thrusting upward with all of her force, she allowed the majority of the kick's impact to slam into her hand but did not release despite the stinging pain. Attempting to shove Weylin's leg up and force him onto his back, she simultaneously stepped forward and brought her foot down on his lower abdomen with a monstrous stomp. As careful as ever, Kiriko angled the foot for his ribs, but not quite close enough to his lungs or stomach to puncture anything too important. 

WC: 612 | GP: 12 | Total GP: 100

Playtime was over, her attitude made that clear. Whether Kiriko was upset or thrilled about the hit the Quincy had scored the White One himself couldn’t tell, but that she was out for revenge was clear as day.

All strings in place von Wolfenstein was about to land on the ground and execute the next part of the play. Now! He pulled, in slow motion the string began to tighten, yet just as it was about to yank the Shinigami’s leg away from down under her, a hand coated in Reiatsu severed the connection. Multiple thoughts ran through Weylin’s head as a result and ranged from Interesting to Fuck. Nonetheless he was forced to act, doing nothing meant giving her the advantage yet again and the woman had proven time and time again that she wasn’t a foe he wanted to fight against from behind.

The time it took for his kick to land von Wolfenstein used to recapitulate the situation. What had changed so suddenly? Was it the Kido-like energy that he had felt earlier which allowed her now to see the Reishi strings that he pulled? Did that spell possibly encompass other senses too? Did she feel his movements? He hoped not. If she was still restrained to sight alone it would leave Weylin at least one ace left to play before the closing curtain.

His heel came down with enough force to crush a Hollow’s skull, yet the woman countered it with a palm thrust that caught his leg. Dead or not, that ought to have left a mark, Weylin noted yet quickly his mood turned dismal as her grip tightened around his foot, eager to hold him in place and end a puppeteer’s shenanigans. Kiriko moved in, raised her leg and –

Prognosis: stomping kick to the abdomen. Possible damage: His eyes scouted her frame, the way her muscles moved, felt the way the spiritual energy flowed through and around her. Moderate. He felt the Blut flow hot through his veins and before his mind’s eye he span several strings of Reishi before her approaching foot that would serve to slow down the attack. His right eyebrow twitched. Minimal?

- the kick approached its target like a bullet train yet Weylin was determined to not end like a brick wall. His second leg had found steady footing and von Wolfenstein was barely fast enough to bring his hands in position before the impact.

BAM!

Her foot broke through the thin strings yet when it met his flesh the muscles had turned almost to steel, strengthened by Reishi and blood. The blunt force spread through his body, caused the Quincy to gasp for air and pushed him back a solid half-meter yet at the same time von Wolfenstein new that he had been hit harder before.

Some capillaries had broken; the attack would leave a nice bruise but had taught the Quincy several lessons. She either couldn’t hit harder, constricted by a gigai, or wouldn’t hit harder. If that’s the best you can do we will be here for a long time, von Wolfenstein thought and wasted no time before dashing into action.

Kiriko had seen his strings and if that meant she suddenly perceived Reishi visually he ought to at least and try to turn that to his advantage. A new movie started in his head. Dash in with a thrust, provoking reaction, regardless of the Shinigami’s move Weylin’s leading hand would then snap with his fingers, forcing the surrounding Reishi to flare up so bright one had to close the eyes – to an enhanced vision it might have an effect that could be equated to a flash grenade. She too was once human and we do not tend to look above. The imaginary Quincy vaulted over the Shinigami, flipped around to land behind her and place the hands on her back to unload Reishi in a variation of an internal martial arts move that ought to send her flying forwards. Alternative route. In a new version von Wolfenstein circled her on the left to escape her strong hand. Commence!

Weylin moved in with a thrust that could spear a normal enemy, yet no matter how fast he was, Kiriko would be just that bit faster. However, the instant she would react, the Quincy was prepared to play his ace.

723/50=14=107

Despite having been the one to get kicked in the chest von Wolfenstein couldn’t help but feel that this round too was his in spirit. He had repeatedly dodged the onslaught of this high class Shinigami and now that she had finally laid a hand on him he had turned out to be resilient enough to not break like a child’s discarded toy. Quite the opposite, it felt as if he had shown that at least this Quincy’s pride was justified.

Again the initiative shifted in his favor and Weylin was keen to see how far his experiments would take him after having been able to leave a mark on Kiriko. It took him one step to realize that this would be the end of the line. Something was off. Half of another later the Quincy’s spiritual sense went haywire warned him of imminent danger, but it was too late. It had been clear from the beginning that between them was a gap in raw power that no amount of skill and tricks could bridge. At least I will be given a front row seat to her performance.

He knew that is plan had been seen through and with a mix of awe and resentment he realized that he had been seen through. Ahh…you see not only the Reishi that surrounds us, but also the flow within an enemy.he completed his second step:Clever girl. A smile spread across his face. To be able to distinguish the flow of energy within a Quincy is a true testament to your skill, considering the variety of different sources.

Seen through or not, von Wolfenstein could clearly feel that he had pushed Kiriko far enough that what followed next was her gut reaction to an annoyance, an irritation, a thread that was to be eliminated. “Show me!” he yelled out and was not disappointed. It was thick, it was rich, it was heavy. A violent purple encased the woman like a living, writhing flame of hateful energy. The Quincy’s flash tore brightly through the dusk yet it did little to vanquish the coiling darkness that held Kiriko in a lover’s embrace. Magnificent.

Instinctively Weylin knew to get out of the way of the boiling force, so following his old plan seemed as good an idea as any. Elegantly and effortlessly von Wolfenstein vaulted over the woman, the palms of his hands, coated in Reishi, nearing the spaces just below her shoulder blades the moment his feet touched ground.

The violet flames retreated as if running away from the soothing blue that swirled around him. Or better: it retracted as it prepared to lash out viciously for the moment Weylin tough to feel the soft fabric of her clothes against his hands his senses flooded him with the signals of danger. Time stood still for but an instance, leaving the Quincy just enough time to remember that curiosity had killed many cats and that next time perhaps he ought to play it safe. Then he seemed to be hit by the force of a sun as Kiriko became her own little supernova.

The earth splintered, chunks of rock flew away, becoming deadly projectiles in the process and Weylin himself was sent flying back, crashing through the wall of the unfinished factory. The building swayed for a moment like a dying moloch. The steel frame groaned, the concrete burst open and then it stopped for a heartbeat – before coming crushing down on the Quincy.

A moment passed and then another in which von Wolfenstein blinked in confusion and rubbed his head. That one had hurt. Coughing twice as the dust settled Weylin began to push against the piece of debris that covered him. It gave way easy enough and with a small sigh of relief the German sucked in the fresh air that rushed in to fill the gap. Within three more heartbeats he was on his feet again and walked towards the, curiously enough, still standing entry.

Von Wolfenstein was battered and bruised but not broken. His lower lip had burst open, a small cut under his right eye had a single drop of ruby red run down his cheek like a tear and the Quincy was very sure that he would feel the whole extent of what he had suffered later in full – but for now he was thrilled.

“Grossartig!” Weylin exclaimed and stepped into the light of the setting sun: “Wundervoll!” His smiled reached ear to ear, in fact he had to resist the urge of clapping in delight as the differently colored eyes rested once again on the woman. “What a marvelous display!” The Quincy dusted himself off. “You found a way to coat yourself in Reiriyoko, haven’t you?” He began to walk towards her and realized that he had been thrown back quite a bit. “It almost looks like you’re employing the surrounding spiritual energy, but it’s coming from within, doesn’t it?” As an expert in Reishi Manipulation and Reiatsu Perception von Wolfenstein was rather sure in his assessment: “Forcefully expelling you aura in order to increase your potency – your lethality! – that is an excellent idea.” He paused for a moment. “Please, tell me what you call this.”

867/50=17, 124

Ooc: don’t let this round of not trying to hit you fool you – we are not done yet!

Kiriko exhaled, the tiniest of mechanisms so ingrained that as her lungs deflated so too did her aura explode out all around her. It was a maelstrom of ravishing flames, swirling and destroying and utterly unlike any other light show she had seen from another opponent. This was her art. Her creation. Her Shunko. The reiatsu coiled around her body, coating and cupping as if she was submerged in the soft embrace of the sea. Her connection to the aura was such that its contact with her own body was fluid, a constantly shifting osmosis as she drew in and expelled the aura in order to effect not just the air around her but her own body as well.

To all those who were not Kiriko though, the purple waves of light were a violent and deadly barrage. Shimmering and dancing through the air with such force that they could no longer be called elegant, merely lethal. The shadows cast back upon her began to twist and flutter, throwing her cheekbones into darkness and hooding her eyes from sight. Her skin crawled with the cavorting of light and shadow, an entire play taking place across the canvas of her body.

She was in a state of breathlessness, the same thing that always occurred when Kiriko unexpectedly called upon her Shunko. It flushed her entire system with giddy energy, and unlike other powers that she held that were uncontrollable, this was something that bowed to the faintest twitch of her little finger. Hers. Hers and no one elses. The smile on her face deepened, teeth flashing as she tilted her head back in mild rapture.

The explosion had served in doing what she had wanted, casting off the Quincy like a piece of dirt being flicked to the ground. Turning very very slowly so as not to react to the charged particles in the air, Kiriko eyed the building the King had crashed into and sent out her burgeoning senses. She could feel the bubbling of his reiatsu, dimmed only a shade, as the man pulled himself free and dusted himself off before sauntering right back towards her with that insufferable grin on his face.

Sniffing primly, an oddly cold expression when her entire body was suffused with the warmth of Shunko, Kiriko decided to humor the man. “Yes, this is Shunko. I take my reiatsu and apply it to my body to create this effect.” Her voice was blank, but even as she described the most basic of principles Kiriko couldn't help the lilt to her eyes as she spoke about her legacy.

Hand falling to her side, Kiriko tilted her gaze back towards the von Wolfenstein. He had too much mobility. If she wanted to show him his true limitations then she needed to compress the area with which he was able to work with. And unfortunately that was not something easily done with Kido. There was only one choice, and it galled Kiriko to go back to relying on her Zanpakutou when Aneue was still ignoring her but it had to be done. They were parts of the same soul for a reason, and she could not avoid using her Shikai just because the sword spirit had been trying to subvert her control lately.

Kiriko drew her zanpakutou in one smooth gesture, her arm drawing across her chest until the dark metal was free from its sheath and glittering as her aura danced down the blade. A quiet censure bubbled up from within, but she ignored it. The sword felt oddly light and she assumed it was from not having used it for so long. Tilting her wrist she aimed the tip of the blade towards Weylin's heart.

“It is time to stop playing,” she murmured with a deadly cool, before intoning words that could never escape her soul. “Rattle, Gaikotsu-Aneue.”

She blinked, a slow flutter of movement, and then lowered her eyes to the sword in her hand. It was perfectly still. Perfectly cold. Perfectly... there? Frowning carefully, Kiriko repeated the release phrase to her Shikai, only to have the blade sit empty and frigid in her hands.

“What is this?” her words were tight and ugly, sent inward towards the two other inhabitants of her soul. No response was forthcoming as her question echoed back upon her.

“Aneue, explain.” Demands had never gone over well between Kiriko and her Zanpakutou Spirit, but she was too angry to heed the warnings of history.

Silence stretched, though in reality it was nothing more then a split second, before a soft and calloused giggling reached her ears. Tilting and shattering like refracted light the amused noise turned it a cacophony of maniacal laughter. “Come back later, Imoutou. When you grow up, maybe then I'll let the little girl play with a real weapon.”

Images flashed across her vision. Tiny hands. Aneue looming over her. A booted foot crushing against her throat. And that damnable laughter. “Oops, I forgot, Imoutou. You don't want to grow up, do you? You're happy to hide behind the sleeves of Hahaue for ever... Well, don't expect me to help you any. I don't work with children...”

The link cut off abruptly, and Kiriko could no longer even feel Aneue's presence in her head. Just like the last few weeks. Cursing under her breath she slammed the sword back into its sheath with careless physicality, eyes flaming as the Captain dared von Wolfenstein to say anything about what had just happened.

Fine then, she hissed to herself. I'll just do this on my own. With that, Kiriko lunged across the gap and aimed her tightly clenched fists for Weylin's face. If they had to play cat and mouse then they would, but eventually she would snare him. 

WC: 962 GP: 19 | Total GP: 131

Oho, the Quincy said to himself as he beheld the woman before him. Despite Kiriko’s stoic appearance he had seen many different sides of her so far – fighting was always a rather intimate experience after all, the rush, the danger, it was a place where masks fell, facades tore and emotions ran wild, even if one had believed ones self to be void of those – yet von Wolfenstein thought to see, for the very first time, an expression comparable to happiness or even  glee. Or rather glee as it looks like for someone like her, he remarked dryly.

Weylin thought to see a hint of pride shine behind her eyes as he congratulated and admired her ability and indeed, the way her small frame contained the violent violet flames was nothing short of awe inspiring. Even from the distance the White One could feel what destructive potential rested within…and how much Kiriko loved the feeling. The idea is not new, yet the execution…flawless, the scholar within had begun to stir.I have mastered Reishi yet I am not sure I could contain such a vast amount as effortless as she… The aura flared up, only to roll over the woman like a feline nestling. it seems so volatile and yet behaves as if almost sentient; dangerous. He smiled. I wonder if I make it out of this alive after all.

When she graced him with an answer von Wolfenstein couldn’t help but repeat the word: “Shunko.” Like a fine wine he rolled it around his tongue, tasted its sound, implication. “Hmm,” he found: “A good name.” Yet, he continued to himself: I couldn’t help but notice that you said ‘This is Shunko’ when you’re entire body screams ‘This is MY Shunko’.

Cocking his head slightly to ne side Weylin reminded himself that his time was running short. Kiriko wouldn’t be content to just stand there and show off forever, he needed to come up with a plan and he needed it fast. It’s Reiatsu, he reminded himself:Its Reiryokou, its spiritual energy at its core. The fingers of his right hand twitched in anticipation. I should be able to control it, siphon it from her…or at least bend it a little. Von Wolfenstein weighed the confidence in his own abilities against the Shinigami’ overwhelming spirit. There weren’t many Quincy around, so the chances were high that she had never encountered someone like him…yet there was a reason she was as powerful as this, any attempts would either have to be very subtle or instantly successful. Anything in-between might get him killed.

Play time? Weylin repeated and smiled in disbelief, lest he grit his teeth.You say that now, but the fact remains that I pushed you far enough to show me some of the aces up your sleeves. Kiriko’s hand wandered towards her blade. I suppose I ought to be flattered that I will get to see two of her abilities in one go. She drew with such speed and ferocity that von Wolfenstein almost flinched, reacting to the danger his body took a defensive stance.

Rattle, Gaikotsu-Aneue

This was it, the moment was here! What would it be? An instrument of murder, as lithe but deadly as the woman who was to wield it? Or perhaps a weapon that paid tribute to her immense spiritual power, betraying the stealth her unit was famed for? At their core Shinigami are beings that ought to be pitied. A broken soul, beyond mending…What does this other part of you look like, Kiriko!?

Nothing happened. The Quincy raised an eyebrow in confusion. Had he missed it? No, he was confident that truly nothing had happened. How odd. How remarkable. A single question echoed through his head. Why?

Kiriko Chinda slammed the blade back into its cover, anger and fury burning in her eyes and Reiatsu alike. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Weylin whispered dryly. She took two steps. Seems like time’s up; am all out of aces. Should I fold? A silver coin synthesized out of Reishi and traveled up and down his knuckles as he held an internal debate. Yet seeing her determined expression through the purple haze the Quincy’s blood began to boil. A fight like that came perhaps only once a lifetime. His own Reiatsu flared up in a bright blue as von Wolfenstein’s body readied itself, assimilated all the surrounding energy to steel for one last onslaught. The amount of Reishi grew exponentially, causing Mekkayu and Sanrei to vibrate as they were pushed to their limits. The differently colored eyes began to glow in a soft silver as Weylin exhaled. Nah.

“Heads or tails!?”

She was upon him, sent flying by a lunge like an arrow from a bow, clearly aiming at his face. Vastly limited in space by the ruins that surrounded him von Wolfenstein had to make the best of things and took a half step forward to obtain space. Strings of Reishi attached to a girder that protruded from the carcass of the building, forcefully pulling the man to the left whilst the corresponding arm of the same side flashed up to meet the oncoming appendage just past the wrist. Repulsing the spiritual particles that coated Kiriko with all his might the Quincy sought to pressure the fist off course just enough to not hit his face.

At the same time his own right shot forward like the tip of a spear, aimed at her solar plexus. Coated in Reishi that rapidly revolved around the fingers Weylin thought to emulate the effect of a Seele Schneider and tear through the coating layer whilst using the particles he thus shore free to further his assault.

Huh, the Quincy thought duly noted as time slowed down to a crawl as events unfolded in so little time that common logic held no power. He could see Kiriko much clearer than ever before. The clashing of their spirits had laid bare aspects of the soul he had never thought to see – or reveal. The Shinigami, perhaps the strongest being he had ever met, next to Ryder and Erasmus, was powerful beyond mortal comprehension, but where the others reminded von Wolfenstein of gemstones, she was iron. Strong, but brittle. A hollow existence made emptier by the fracturing of her soul and unlike most Shinigami of her skill it seemed she had yet to come to terms with it. What do you live for, Kiriko? he wondered and the words sounded loud in his head – but would they echo in hers? What is your purpose?

Before Weylin could wonder what it was that Kiriko felt time caught up with the Quincy. His eyes found the coin and he smirked. Heads. 

1.118/50=22gp 146gp

He smirked and her blood began to seethe. Stupid to let emotions get into a fight. Even less intelligent to hate an opponent. She knew those lessons as well as the next person, if not better – but Kiriko had never been the best at controlling her weak heart and she fell easily down that hole one more time. Glaring with such ferocity that her eyes burned, she threw herself at the man with all of her force.

A considerable amount now that Shunko was both propelling her every move and adding the snap of kido based power to each strike. The air around them tingled, lit with an invisible electricity as two overbearing reiatsus crashed together. She could feel the parched ozone as Weylin sucked in all free standing reishi, the edges of her very own Shunko aura blurring and melding indistinctly under such a fierce tug.

The core maintained its stability though, enough so that she soldered on without pause. The Quincy tried the same trick again, tiny glowing strings attaching themselves to her fist and arm and lurching her sideways and away from her target. Kiriko grit her teeth and refused to budge. It wasn't like moving a mountain. She could do it if she forced her body to comply with her own rules instead of von Wolfenstein's. She could. She could.

Kiriko yanked harshly at the ribbons of blue, her arms tensing as the Shunko aura crackled all around her. With one sharp jerk she heard them pop and give way, her fist suddenly hurtling through blank space on a course for the man's throat. Weylin himself had thrown his torso forward, fingers held tight like a knife as he chopped at her chest.

She knew two things immediately.

One – If she continued to attack she couldn't also dodge.

Two – If she continued her attack, he would be unable to dodge as well.

Two solid strikes. That seemed like an honest test. Justice for a good battle, right?

Kiriko held nothing back.

What do you live for?

The question fizzled up in the instance before contact, before mutual self-destruction, and Kiriko grinned. “I live for peace,” she whispered, as her body and Weylin's locked together in a rigid crash. 

WC: 372 | GP: 7 | Total GP: 138

His plan had been good, his execution flawless, but the fact that he was still in mortal danger was a tribute to the opponent he was facing. Having freed herself through sheer force from the Quincy’s influence Kiriko adjusted the trajectory of her strike. Going for the throat? That decision was so very Kiriko.

Weylin knew immediately that this was not a strike he would survive, could survive. Dodging was out of the question as he himself had committed to the attack yet whilst the mind slowly began to realize the futility, his body had already moved, motivated by superior reflexes and a will to survive. One last time tendrils extended from his chest. They shot forwards and latched onto the purple Reiatsu, pulled whilst the Reishi created a void whose suction would prove, in combination, stronger than the fist, even if it was propelled by Kiriko’s murderous intent.

Von Wolfenstein’s Blut assimilated the spiritual particles at a rapid pace, filling each cell instead of merely glazing it. Thus prepared Weylin had achieved several, perhaps unprecedented, things. Not only had he saved his own life, or unknowingly used a skill in a way that no Quincy had done before, he was also one of the few, if any, people who had been victim of Kiriko Chinda’s onslaught, and remained on their feet. 

The pain Weylin felt upon impact was indescribable. An almost tingling sensation was the first sign as their Reiatsu clashed and when full force unloaded von Wolfenstein felt many small veins burst as clash of spiritual particles pushed them beyond their breaking point. In an instant he felt the pain travel through his body and jolt his brain, yet through iron will the German grid his teeth and refused to be swallowed by the red haze that began to shroud his vision.

He coughed and von Wolfenstein could feel the coppery taste of his own blood on his tongue, yet while his body tried its best to assess the damages Weylin’s eyes were transfixed on Kiriko’s. His own hand had hit home too, he had felt his fingers crash into her chest, albeit only faintly as the majority of his senses had been overloaded. And whilst on his face the strain was visible, she remained cool. 

I live for peace.

“What a relief,” Weylin whispered, a thin stream of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth as he spoke. “That means we’ve got something in common.”

The Reishi strings snapped, Weylin’s legs gave way and seemingly in slow motion von Wolfenstein fell backwards towards the rubble that would leave him somewhat propped up. Another coughing fit shook his frame violently and more blood stained his face and attire, the ruby red building a vicious contrast on his pale skin. Breathing heavily the Quincy wiped at it with his sleeve and mumbled: “Sorry ‘bout that.”

His limbs hurt and fingers twitched from the overexposure of Reishi, his chest was aflame and filled every motion with pain, let alone breathing, yet still von Wolfenstein couldn’t help himself but feel the thin lips spread into a smile. “You, Kiriko China, are something else. It is my loss.” But by God was it fun.

533/50=10, 155