White Day [closed for Clara]

Nagisa Smiling Blade

727 Posts

RankCaptain of the Second Reiatsu313 Defense60 Strength100 Speed120 Spirit33 ApplicationLink

White Day [closed for Clara] Mar 14, 2015 23:22:21 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on Mar 14, 2015 23:22:21 GMT -5

Nagisa took a deep breath. When she had left her home this morning she hadn’t thought that this would be so difficult. Now however, when it was time to throw down the chips and put one’s money where one’s mouth was, the Chinda had to admit that she was reconsidering her decision. Just go, she urged herself on. What’s the worst that could happen? Little did Nagisa know that it is thoughts like these that echo throughout the universe and attract the scorn and attention of all sorts of metaphysical beings. Most of them are too bored or busy to truly pick up on such invitations; others however gain a mischievous sparkle in their eye and make it their personal mission to make the puny mortal regret those thoughts.

Black hot pants, combat boots, a thin coat over a red long-sleeve shirt – Nagisa did not look too out of place for the bustling metropolis as she stepped out of the transdimensional gate. Her ebon hair had been styled so that it would cover most of the eye –patch, but as a result the woman found a strand of hair constantly in the corner of her mouth, prompting her to blow at it in an annoyed fashion. The rest of her mane fell freely, blew softly in the breeze that carried the distinct smell of spring, as well as fried food, smog and people. The Chinda coughed. How did people manage to live in a place like that? Did one’s nose simply dull to the point that nothing was disturbing anymore?

Shaking it off Nagisa took a hesitant step and then another, clutching the small bag that hung from her shoulder she made herself aware of why she had embarked on this trip in the first place. About a month ago Seryu had taken her to a wondrous place, the magical land of Di-su-ni. Now the Japanese tradition of White Day was upon them and the Chinda was determined to get her friend something to express her gratitude. Blinking multiple times the Shinigami wandered through the town center, trying her best to not be overwhelmed by the sensations. Seemingly everywhere there were people praising their wares. What made it different from the Soul Society though was the fact that not a single shop had someone standing outside yelling and vying for the attention of potential customers. No, that job seemed out of fashion and had been taken over by bright signs proclaiming discounts. I can’t decide whether I like it because it feels like less pressure, or if that makes shopping impersonal.

Nagisa trudged from one store to the next, peered through the glass, and on occasion, bumped into it, causing her to hurry onwards out of fear someone might have noticed. Every once in a while the woman drew peculiar looks from other people. The Chinda felt them on her body like thin needles. Was it that obvious that she didn’t belong there? Where people staring because of the eye-patch? Worry and uneasiness started to well up inside of her, yet as she passed a group of young girls she overheard one say: “Wow, did you see her!? So tall…I bet she is good at sports.” Another one replied with disillusion in her tone of voice. “Must be a pain to find decent clothes though.”

You have no idea at times, Nagisa thought sorrowfully and caressed the fabric of a few dressed that had been hung up outside. Lacy and summery. Seryu liked these sorts of things, didn’t she? But she possessed hundreds of clothes; perhaps it would be better to buy her a trinket? Nagi bit her lip in contemplation. “She likes cute stuff…maybe..maybe a panda doll? No, she has a real one…Maybe a costume for her squirrel? No, he doesn’t like wearing things...” The woman rubbed her chin, continued to walk. “Movers, music, chocolate? She really likes sweet things!”

The pale woman whirled around as a distinct sensation brushed over her. Reiatsu. There was someone close who had distinct control over spiritual pressure. However, it was not that much stronger than her own. Do you want to go and investigate? Taldeer inquired, knowing of Nagisa’s inbred curiosity and fable for detective novels.

“Yes and no,” she replied after a moment. “I still need to finish shopping.”

Picture-frame.

“What?”

You like her, don’t you? Get her a picture frame and put on of the both of you in. That way she’ll constantly look at you. Constantly remember the good times. And if you ask me, that definitely raises your chances that she will think about you more often. The Pale Lady had spoken with the nonchalance that made it sound as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“I don’t like her in that way,” Nagi protested meekly but quickly let herself be distracted by a heavenly smell. She sniffed. Sugar? Dough? Deep fried? As if in trance the Chinda walked into the same direction the Reiatsu came from, albeit for entirely different reasons. It was a food stand that had two women operate it. The younger one served the customers while the older one prepared the food. Overcome by the desire for the unhealthy rush only mortal food could provide Nagisa edged closer, tried to poke her head in to see what exactly they were selling. The older lady regarded her with distinct disdain. “Are you looking to buy, or are you just curious?”

“Well, I guess you could say I am buy-curious?” Nagi replied and tried her best at what she thought would be a disarming smile.

Moments later the Shinigami found herself carrying a small bag full of tiny, delicious doughnuts that tasted even better than they smelled. “This was a good decision,” she told herself, yet as she ate the tingling sensation that something was about to happen grew. Nagisa blinked. Looked around. There were dozens of people, and yet one stood out. Literally stood out. It wasn’t so often that the Chinda met a woman her height, let alone taller than her, thus it was with twice the amount of interest that the differently colored eyes focused on her. Athletic figure, confident posture – was that green hair she spied? The eyes…the eyes were most remarkable though. They were of a sensational brown and had an almost mystical quality to them. As if they knew things, had seen things, which mortals were not supposed to see.

The Chinda walked over, slowly, seizing up a potential opponent. Upon closer inspection the woman’s body seemed like a giant twig, flat like Nagisa but yet strangely tough. Not in the sense that the girl was well trained, but tough. She doesn’t give off the vibe of a bad person though, the Shinigami thought.

“Hello,” said Nagisa and paused because she hadn’t actually thought of what was supposed to come next. For a lack of a better idea she slowly held her bag of deep fried tries towards the other woman.

1164/50=23

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White Day [closed for Clara] Mar 19, 2015 13:51:12 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2015 13:51:12 GMT -5

There was a certain smell that permeated the air in Tokyo, a kind of nauseating mixture of fresh cut grass, grease, and sweat that wafted along the heated currents of smog into one’s very bones. New residents, such as herself, called it “The Stench”; old ones just called it “home.” It was amazing, really, how much the human mind could adapt to- sights, sounds, smells, even sensations could become just another part of life given enough time. Maybe that was why his absence hurt so much. Not because he wasn’t there anymore, but because, somewhere, there was a part of her that had already accepted it, had already gotten used to it. Had already moved on. It was what drove her, really. Not the love they had once shared, not her desire to feel him, to see him again. No, it was fear that pushed her; fear of loss, fear of change, fear of accepting it all and getting on with her life.

She couldn’t.
She wouldn’t.
She didn’t want to.
Not while there was still a chance she could save him, could bring him back and banish the fear.

It will be difficult, child, to rebuild the seal unnoticed. Grimm’s voice echoed through Clara’s mind, his metallic tone more comforting than she’d ever thought possible. That night had changed them, had altered their relationship in a way the woman still didn’t fully understand, though she was grateful for it. Whatever “it” was. The book wasn’t Charlie, but still. Having it was better than having nothing.

I know. But we have to try. She couldn’t just give up- not while there was still a chance, however slim it might be, that Charlie could be brought back. The Serpent had failed her, but Clara had found her own way. Her first attempt had been dismantled by someone far more powerful then she had even thought possible, torn down because she had picked the wrong person to try and break. She’d nearly been broken herself for it, but, somehow, she was still here. And so long as that remained true, she would try. Do we have all the components? The woman knew the answer before she’d even asked, but had said it anyway- she never knew, after all, when Grimm might surprise her.

I do not; this you know. Why you insist on asking such a ridiculous question is beyond me, girl.

You never disappoint, do you Grimm? The sarcasm in their exchange was palpable. At least that particular detail of their relationship hadn’t changed. Much. What else do we need?

Quite a bit. Grimm shot back, his tone shifting back to serious fast enough to give anyone who might be missing emotional whiplash. Clara was used to it by now, mostly, so it went unnoticed as the tome continued. While we have the basic foundations of the transmutation circle, most of the more intricate pieces still need crafting, which will take weeks without a proper host body to carve them on. We could acquire one with relative ease in this trash heap. But the chances of even a mortal such as yourself surviving the grafting procedure long enough to be of any use are…

Slim to none at best. The woman cut in, her thoughts carrying back to that night in the warehouse and the pile of bodies they had created. Yes, I remember. That had been the problem they’d ran across, or one of them at least, the first time around; so few subjects had managed to survive long enough to be useful that she had been forced to grab those with actual Spiritual power. And they both knew how that had ended. Is there any way we can work around that? It was a stupid question, she knew; Magic couldn’t just be altered to fit your needs. There were rules. Immutable, unchangeable rules that governed the very universe itself. Magic tricked those rules on occasion, but it could never bypass them, never ignore them like so many people thought. There was always a price to be paid. Always.

The knot of thoughts and pseudo-emotions in the back of her mind that was the Grimoire paused as the woman twisted, squeezed, and outright pushed her way through the throng of people that had crowded the particular section of downtown Tokyo; it was a holiday of some sort, and thousands of people were out and about, shopping for presents and trinkets and all sorts of odd things, all in the name of some stupid tradition. Clara didn’t particularly care, or even know, what the whole thing was about, but it was a good cover for buying up the supplies she’d need to recreate the circle (among other things); after all, who was going to question why someone wanted to buy their grandfather a years’ worth of liquid mercury? Certainly not the Japanese shop owners. They were more than happy to take her money for all kinds of questionable things, so long as there was enough of it. Greed, it seemed, was a much more powerful motivator in Japan than honor. Typical.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, during which she bought and delivered via Demon portal several thousand dollars’ worth of food and cooking supplies to their new base of operations, Grimm sent a thought back in response. There… may be a way. It would require a Shinigami however, one with access to a fresh version of those false bodies they wear. What did you call it again?

A Gigai. They’re called “Gigai”, Grimm. I thought you knew that already? The snarkiness in her response did nothing to hide what was slowly bubbling up to the surface in the woman’s mind; the moment Grimm had mentioned “Shinigami”, her brain had kicked into overdrive, a sick, twisted hope rising within her as she worked out just exactly what the book was suggesting. It could work. Theoretically speaking, a gigai is just a shell, a husk meant to house the Shinigami inside- they have no life on their own, but all the right components are there. And the synchronization rate between the shell and the soul altered so that the Shinigami in question couldn’t leave the body, but the changes made to the body could still be transferred to the soul…

Then, perhaps, the chances of a successful ritual would be more in line with a properly executed transmutation? Grimm interjected, finishing her though for her before she could even get her mind to that point. I know child; I had the same thought.

This was… Gods, but this was incredible! Three thousand years of magical tradition, turned on its head in less than two hours by a twenty-something year old woman and the sentient spell book who had all but written the very traditions it was defying! Grimm, do you even know what this means? We could actually do it. We could bring him back! It could work this time. It really could.

I understand the implications, yes. I am fully aware of the scope of my genius- you ought to appreciate it more often.

If this works, Grimm? I’ll write a novel about your brilliance. The woman wasn’t kidding either; she hadn’t felt this excited, this hopeful about Charlie’s return in a long while. Not since that day she and the Arrancar Caden had parted ways in the ruins of that shrine so many months ago. We can do it Grimm! Really do it!

Yes, we can. She almost paused at the book’s response almost noticed the soft, sad tone that drifted through her mind, settling like a giant weight at the bottom of the sea. Almost, because thing, or rather, someone had caught her attention. A woman, tall, ivory skinned and raven haired, was walking towards her from a nearby food stand. She was stunningly beautiful, even with an eye patch, but it wasn’t her looks that drew Clara in. No, it was the fact that she was coming right towards her, not moving in her general direction but right at the woman, that caught her attention. But, more than that, it was the female’s Reiatsu that her attention.

A Shinigami. In a Gigai. Headed right for her.

It was like the universe was just handing out miracles.

Clara didn’t think about what to do; she just did it. Her head went first, tipping to the ground as the female Shinigami spoke a greeting. Her body followed suit, plowing downwards in one of the stiffest, most awkward bows she had ever taken. The crowd around them ignored the gesture, for the most part, mutterings of “Stupid Gaijin” flowing through them as the green haired sorceress spoke (in broken Japanese) in as loud a voice as she could manage without screaming, “Thank you, Shinigami-dono!”

This was going to be even more fun than the super-hero wannabe had been, before his friend had shown up.

Stage, set! Actors, to your places! The show is about to begin!

Shut up Grimm.
___________
WC: 1500 (even, no joke)
GP: 30
OOC: :3 You have no idea how much my muse loved this post. NO. IDEA.

Nagisa Smiling Blade

727 Posts

RankCaptain of the Second Reiatsu313 Defense60 Strength100 Speed120 Spirit33 ApplicationLink

White Day [closed for Clara] Mar 20, 2015 5:42:22 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on Mar 20, 2015 5:42:22 GMT -5

“Ara?”

A look of confusion stood on Nagisa’s face as the tall woman took one of the lowest bows ever seen in recent history. Her entire body was stiff, and wooden, just as the voice with which she yelled what probably should pass for a greeting. Nagi blinked twice. Having gripping the bag of treats tightly with one hand and stepped back the woman now steadied herself. On the upside though, she had been right: that foreigner was indeed a spiritualist. Now came the second step though: evaluating what kind.

The fact that the other woman knew what she was came to no surprise – after all that had been mutual, yet that the ruckus that she caused was far from ideal. Especially for someone as timid as Nagisa. “Quick, quick!” she whispered: “Get up! Speak softly!” People in their surroundings were staring and whispering. Thankfully most comments centered on the foreigner. The Shinigami opened her mouth once more to chide the other for speaking out loud what she was – then again, who would believe her? More important though was the way the girl had spoken. Perhaps she didn’t know any Japanese at all?

Nagisa began to think approaching the woman had been a bad idea, thus she grabbed the other gently by her shoulders to bring her back upright. The Chinda tried a smile but it came out more like a grimace. Were foreigners always this strange? She had an interesting Reiatsu…but in the end it was perhaps better to simply part ways. “I. Am. Sorry,” she said very slow and deliberately. “I. Got. To. Go.” And with that grabbed the woman’s hand and placed the little bag of deep friend in her hand.

And then she hesitated.

For a moment she felt something. Something peculiar and ancient, a feeling familiar to the spirits that lived inside her soul. Peculiar. the Chinda tought. Could it be? She resisted the urge to shake her head. Surely it was but her imagination.

“I. Go. Now.”

333/50=6; 29

ooc: Glad to hear it helped

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White Day [closed for Clara] Mar 24, 2015 11:25:37 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2015 11:25:37 GMT -5

Words, soft and nervous, filtered in the woman’s ears as she held her bow; it seemed her prey was of the timid variety. She could use that, play it to her advantage. Quiet people were often times harder to persuade then one would think, but if you kept them off balances, robbed them of the chance to think about what was happening, then it became a matter of proper timing, rather than one of clever wordage. Not that she couldn’t be clever when she wanted, but still; impromptu cleverness was not her forte. It was, however, how she had planned to get the Shinigami to come with her- by throwing her off balance with a public display, she should have then been able to drag the woman off on the pretext of “paying her back” (or some other nonsense) for doing her job. Quick, clean, and simple. A good plan, if ever there was one, and thought up literally on the spot to boot.

The problem with plans, however, was that they never survived first contact with the enemy. Or prey, as it were.

The bow and thanks had done their job a bit too well; the raven haired death god was decidedly flustered, the social embarrassment enough to make her want to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. Clara could see why- she probably would have done the same thing only a few months prior, attracting as little attention to herself as possible (when she wasn’t raging against perverts in a coffee shop that is). But that was then. Now, she had no qualms about making a scene. Experience had taught her not to trust what other people said or thought, so why should she worry about what a group of strangers believed about her?

Hands, gentle but firm, gripped the woman’s shoulders, and for a moment the sorceress wanted to tear the other woman’s arms off and beat her with them. But only for a moment. Remind me when I get back to make sure she can still experience pain through her Gigai, will you Grimm?

I will girl.

Good book. Her prey was speaking slowly, every word deliberate and concise as walked away. Not. Just. Yet.

Clara’s hand reached out as she rose form her bow, fingers clasping around the Shinigami’s wrist in a tight, but non-hostile, grip. “Wait!” she exclaimed, desperation bleeding through her voice as she switched to English, a language she was far more fluent in in spite of her thick German accent. “I… am sorry. I did not mean to embarrass you.” At least, not as much as I did. “One of your comrades saved my life long ago, and ever since I have wanted to properly honor his memory.” Good, good. The truth always helps in these situations. “It is why I came here- to find one of you. I had heard your kind is greater in number here than in my homeland.” Draw her in now, slowly…

“I have his ashes, you see? He wanted to be buried next to his wife but… there was so little left.” Pause for effect, look down in shame. “I thought, perhaps, one of his own kind might be able to take him home.” Good, good, let go of her hand now, give her the option to escape, and then… “I can take you to him, if you would like. It is not far; just a few kilometers away.”

Truly child I do not know where you learned such skills; you astound even me sometimes.

Shut up Grimm. She needed to focus.

“Will you come, please? It was his last wish.”
____________
WC: 607
GP: 12/42
OOC: Annnd done! Moar next time plox?

Nagisa Smiling Blade

727 Posts

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White Day [closed for Clara] Mar 26, 2015 5:38:41 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on Mar 26, 2015 5:38:41 GMT -5

Nagisa turned to walk away, but already the other woman was moving. She reached for the Shinigami’s wrist and surprised by that sudden urge for attention the Chinda let her.

“Saved you?”

She blinked multiple times and looked the young woman over. That was not an unlikely story; after all, her kin were off and about to make the world a little bit safer each day. However, to go as far as to travel to a different country? Wow. The girl had to really show her gratitude badly. Who was Nagisa to deny her that if it would bring her soul peace? Besides, she had never made a friend in the human world, so perhaps this was a chance meeting for both of them!

Nagisa nodded, willingly listening to further explanation.

“Ashes?”

Meaning he died.

Forced to communicate in a language she did not excel at with a person who was equally bad at it, the Shinigami counted herself as lucky to have scholarly spirits on her side.

“That’s a sad story,” the Chinda replied with a grave look on her face. “But it seems to mean much to you – and like he deserves this last token of gratitude for his service.” She nodded. “I will follow you.”

The trip itself was fairly uneventful. Nagisa had no idea where they were going, and neither did she know the city, thusly she had to rely fully on her new green haired friend. Holding a conversation was equally difficult as neither of them fully grasped a language the other was aware of. In spite of that though Nagisa repeatedly tried to engage the other woman in conversation.

“Where are from?”

“What’s it like there?”

“How did the Shinigami die?”

Conversation was key when making a new friend, she had learned as much from Seryu. Placing her hands inside of her coat pockets Nagisa followed the other girl with a smile on her face – the occasion might be grim, but that was all the more reason to keep the spirits high, right? – yet as they left the people heavy districts of the metropolis her feeling began to change. Her gut was acting up, telling her that something was wrong – or would be wrong. The Chinda expanded her spiritual sense. Nothing seemed wrong. In a wide radius they were the only beings with even the remote sliver of a Reiatsu.

However, there was something that struck Nagisa as peculiar.

It was a feeling that had not been very evident during their time in amidst the people. After all, everything had happened so fast and the embarrassment in the Chinda’s flushed cheeks had played its part as well. Now though Nagisa could not shake the suspicion that the woman was more than she led to believe. Or rather than she was, because if the Shinigami was perfectly honest the green haired Amazon had told her not even the slightest bit about herself besides what Nagi had softly demanded with her questions.

All of that could be overlooked though. After all, the occasion was a deeply emotionally unsettling one. Returning the ashes of your savior to one of his kin so that it may be buried next to his wife? What a quest!

No, what truly began to startle Nagisa was the impression that Clara was not just one Reiatsu. As a Shinigami the Chinda knew what it was like to share her soul with another being. She also knew what it felt like to have such a being. Thusly the true question was: why did the mortal girl feel similar? And why was that presence not as gleeful and carefree as the girl showed herself to be, but felt ancient and…sinister. Nagisa knew that spiritually aware mortals had all sorts of odd powers, but the feeling of dread that grew in the Shinigami’s stomach would not subside.

Nagisa shook her head softly. Was she seeing things? Had she perhaps spent too much time amongst monster that she was now seeing them even amongst man? And yet she could not shake the feeling that something really bad was going to happen. Her instinct and feelings began to act up, and finally, as they rounded a corner, the Chinda addressed Clara. “I have a bad feeling.” If an ill fate was to befall them, Nagisa wanted to know her new friend warned. “It’s best if you stay close. Is it far still?”

Why don’t you trust your instincts? Stupid girl.

752/50=15;44

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White Day [closed for Clara] Mar 28, 2015 10:17:04 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2015 10:17:04 GMT -5

It worked.

She could see it in the woman’s spiritual pressure, could sense it in the way her pulse eased back to something close to normal- the Shinigami believed her. Either Grimm was right and the green-haired sorceress had more of a talent for deception than she’d thought, or the ivory-skinned death god was more foolish than most of her comrades. Given how the Gotei tended to operate, Clara was more inclined to believe the latter, but, after what had happened over the last few months, the former didn’t seem so farfetched anymore.

It is as I have always said, child; you have a gift for the Arts.

Yeah yeah I know. Stuff the flatter and get as many of the runes ready as you can. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Perhaps if you stopped holding back, things would go smoother than they did last time?

Just prep the circle already you sarcastic prick. Honestly, she was getting sick of this whole “holding back” nonsense. There was nothing for her to hold back, let alone anything that would have made their last attempt go any “Smoother”, as Grim had put it. And even if she did have some hidden power like the book thought, the woman was pretty sure it wouldn’t have been enough to stop that whole thing from turning into a giant clusterfuck. Actually winning that fight was completely out of the question- Hell would empty itself out into the Gotei before that happened.

“This way!” the sorceress exclaimed, her face plastered with a half-faked smile as she whirled around, pushing and weaving her way through the crowd with long, practiced strides. It would take them awhile to reach the warehouse she had acquired, particularly since they were on foot. Dangerous as it was to give the Shinigami woman time to think, it was necessary for this part of the plan; without this down time, the woman might very well get spooked and try to leave. It was possible for that to happen regardless, but Clara could and would deal with it if it arrived. She was a witch, after all. There wasn’t much magic couldn’t solve.

Her prey trailed behind her for a time, doing its best to make small talk, question after question flying form its mouth as the weaved their way out of Downtown Tokyo. But the sorceress had already planned for this, and for every question that was asked, an answer was given. All of them were truthful to boot, even if they left little room for further discussion.

“I am from Berlin, a city in Germany.” True, the sense that she had been born in the city and thus was “from” there.
“It is cold in the winter and warm in the summer, much like here. But with less smog.” Obvious statement is obvious.
“He was caught in a blast of flames that were meant for me.” Again, true – though it left out a crucial detail. “He was very brave.”

Ha. You mortals and your bravery- what good are you to the world dead? Better to be a living coward than a dead hero, I say.

Grimm. Are the runes ready?

They are charging now. I expect them to be done soon.

Make them charge faster. Or start making more. Her inner tone was harsh and sharp; she didn’t want or need to hear any of the bastard book’s opinions. She needed to concentrate, and having his metallic voice spouting philosophy in the back of her head was more than she could handle right now.

Soon enough, the narrow, crowded streets of the marketplace gave way to the wider, less populated roads and alleys of the industrial district. They were close- just a kilometer or so away from her new base of operations, if her estimations were right. Everything was going swimmingly, and would continue to do so as long as-

As long her quarry didn’t get spooked, that is.

Like she was doing right now. Fuck. She had to act fast, assuage the Shinigami’s concerns and keep her contained with that Gigai, or else this was going to get a lot harder.

And she would have, had it not been for one, simple thing.

The lightest of touches as she’d turned to face her prey, a simple brush of her hand against the raven-haired woman’s forearm.

That was all it was.

That was all it took.

In that moment, Clara could feel her prey – all of her. Could taste the emotions buried within. The love, so bittersweet it made her stomach churn in disgust. The fear, so familiar that she wanted to cry. The pain, the loneliness, the aching desire to know true safety… It was all there. Just like last time. A near perfect reflection of herself, yet different enough to show the witch where she had failed. Where she had always failed.

Her reaction was swift, hostile, but controlled- she didn’t attack her prey right away. Instead, the woman reached behind her back, pulling out the pair of knuckle knives she kept holstered under her shirt, their cold steel grips warming as she wrapped them around her fingers. Five inches of razor sharp steel and a pair of brass knuckles all in one. All pretenses were gone from her face, from her stance, from her Reiatsu; she was pretending anymore.

She was going to beat this woman within an inch of her afterlife, and then she was going to get her Charlie back. “You have three seconds to exit the Gigai before I kick your ass while in it.” Her Japanese wasn’t perfect, but it was a lot better than she’d let on; if her prey still didn’t understand her intentions, she’d find out soon enough.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Go.
__________
WC: 966
GP: 19/61
OOC: Yaaaay. Fite time~ PM/Skype me later; we'll talk about how this should go down.

Nagisa Smiling Blade

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RankCaptain of the Second Reiatsu313 Defense60 Strength100 Speed120 Spirit33 ApplicationLink

White Day [closed for Clara] Mar 31, 2015 10:29:01 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on Mar 31, 2015 10:29:01 GMT -5

The other woman was…quite the opposite of talkative. What a change of pace. For once it seemed Nagisa had met the one person who did not cherish conversation – it was in a way refreshing. If they hadn’t been walking at such a stiff pace they might just have managed to enjoy some silence together. Nagisa rubbed the eye-patch as she listened. She had heard of Berlin and Germany, in her books they had always been described as cold, grey and dreadful place with people like robots. Cold. Efficient. Lacking a sense of humor. So far her new friend seemed to tick all the boxes, right down to the stoic face.

“Burning alive is a horrible way to go,” the Chinda mused while setting one foot in front of the other. “Best to hope it was the blast that killed him.”

Then again, even the feeblest Shinigami was quite durable when compared to a mortal, so what kind of business had the green girl been involved in exactly when it all had come to pass?

She voiced her concerns; the girl whirled around, and for the first time since they met their bodies touched. Flashes of emotions flooded Nagisa’s system. Pride, angst, anger, desire, but above all, the stench of desperation. The blue eye narrowed on the woman, a light expression of shock on her face: despite all of their opposites, she could empathize with the girl’s feelings to a frightening degree – if it wasn’t for that spike of malice that jutted from her Reiatsu like a broken bone.

The mortal stepped back, readied herself for combat – Nagisa could read that clearly in her body language and Reiatsu – but why? She could sense no Hollow. And surely the girl did not intend to fight her, right? After all, she had done her no harm. Quite the opposite, one of her kin had even died for her!

There are times where your daftness is endearing, but right now I just find it infuriating and disgusting.

[/i] The Pale Lady’s voice was full of contempt: She seeks to fight you! Stop being so childish and show her how stupid of an idea that is![/p]

What!? Surely you’re mistaken…and she is too. We can talk this out, no? in her growing confusion Nagisa turned to the Farseer for advice, yet before the spirit could voice her opinion the mortal had drown weapons. Now it was the Chinda’s turn to show contempt. “What tasteless choice in weaponry,” she mumbled and shook her head.

“And what exactly are you planning to do with this? There is no reason for any of this!” Her gestures emphasized the vehemence of her words. “I have done nothing to you!”

“Kick my ass?”

The German’s Japanese war horrible at best, but it got the point across. The Chinda pressed her lips together until they were nothing but at thin line. Talking was pointless, she understood that now. Nagisa cracked her knuckles. Hand to hand combat had never been her forte, she was a weapons expert, but if little girl wanted to dance she would give her a dance.

The Chinda mustered her foe. They were about equal in reach with a slight advantage to the green one, especially considering the blades on the knuckledusters. However, Nagisa had had always confidence in her speed. Even with a Gigai to weigh her down Nagi reckoned that she was faster than the other woman. Their Reiatsu was of similar strength – a commendable feat for a mortal, but not too impressive, considering Nagisa’s young age for a Shinigami.

Why don’t you just cut the bitch? Honestly? She has it coming.

I am older, it is my responsibility to teach her a lesson.

I hate to say this, the Farseer said: But I agree. It would be better to leave the Gigai and fight her on your terms.

The green girl’s fist surged forward much quicker than Nagisa had anticipated. More out of reflex than active thought the Chinda leaned backwards, evading the blow by a mere inch or so. Strange. She had dodged faster blows from more dangerous foes, hadn’t she? If she didn’t take her foe more seriously she really would end up cut. Nagisa seized the initiative by bringing up her leg, aiming a kick at the attacker’s kneecap to stop her dead in her tracks before a combination could follow.

729/50= 14; 58

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White Day [closed for Clara] Apr 1, 2015 11:08:11 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2015 11:08:11 GMT -5

Fights between two skilled combatants were an interesting thing. Though the world often thought that combat was a thinking man’s game, the truth of the matter was quite different; instinct, more than rational thought, ruled the realm of single combat. To be sure, there was a place for logic and strategy in a struggle (all of the best fighters knew how to come up with a plan on the fly), but it was almost always reserved for the start of the bout, or the brief moments of relief in between rounds. In the midst of a brawl, taking time to think about your next move was tantamount to suicide. There was no time to think, no time to plan or plot or scheme. There was only the tensing of your muscles, the sweat rolling down your brow, the cool breeze flying through the alley as you threw a punch. There was only the moment and what you were going to do in it. Not what you thought about doing, but you did. Because that was what a fighter was. That was who she was. Instinct, raw and powerful, tempered by training and experience into a killed edge.

And that was why she was going to beat this Shinigami within an inch of her fucking life. Because she wasn’t just some yuppie who thought they knew how to throw a punch. She was a fighter, a brawler, a bruiser with the Spiritual Power to beat down what she couldn’t outright pummel into submission. And this… this child, this little girl in the body of a woman had no idea what she was getting herself into. Maybe that was why she attacked first- to prove a point. Because even when threatened with a beating, and possibly even death, the raven haired bitch still felt she had enough of a handle on the situation to ignore Clara’s orders. Yeah, that was probably why. Probably.

All it took was a single shifting of her weight, a single sliding step forward to bring her prey within striking distance, and with punch as quick and crisp as any could ever hope to throw, the sorceress’s left arm shot out in a perfectly executed jab. It wouldn’t hurt, much, but it ought to be enough to teach the whore a lesson about taking her opponents-

Ah, fuck.

Fast. That was all the witch could say about the ivory skinned enemy; she was fast. Fast enough to dodge out of the way of a perfectly executed jab without any (apparent) effort. And while in a Gigai no less. This was not going to be fun. Not fun at all.

Instinct kicked in as the eye patched woman retaliated with a swift, snapping kick aimed at Clara’s back knee; it seemed more like a “get the fuck back” kick than anything else, but still. Couldn’t have her core broken at very beginning of the fight, could she? Her left retreated back as she reacted to the kick, her upper torso twisting to away from the woman as she brought the assaulted leg in question up in a vicious, powerful thrust. It was one thing to try and kick a person’s joints while they were loose and unprotected; it was quite another to try and crack them when they were flying at you at combat speed.

The woman heard, rather than felt, the collision of flesh and bone that signaled her opponents kick had been blocked, but she didn’t stop moving. Slamming her upraised leg down in the middle of her opponents (now broken) stance, the sorceress whipped her right arm out in an imitation of the “Spinning Backfist” move seen in Mixed Martial Arts matches, but with an added caveat- instead of twirling around like an idiot to generate the necessary momentum to make her bitch slap a viable blow, she’d simply added the strength of her core into the attack, utilizing the torque produced by rotating her body to devastating effect.

If it hit, of course. It seemed likely- dodging an attack like that would be difficult when your opponent had a leg in between your crotch, even at the speed her opponent seemed capable of. After all, most fighters would use this as a chance to trip up their foe and get them on the ground, especially against someone faster than themselves.

But Clara wasn’t most fighters.

She was a master at this shit.

And class was in fucking session for the Shinigami bitch who thought she could match her in a fist fight.
_______
WC: 757
GP: 15/76
OOC: Happy. March. 32nd.

Nagisa Smiling Blade

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White Day [closed for Clara] Apr 2, 2015 5:34:10 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on Apr 2, 2015 5:34:10 GMT -5

Humans. You could say many things about them. You could chide them for their short-sightedness, belittle them for their short lifespan, praise them for their perseverance – but most of all one just had to marvel at their potential. Nagisa was a very young soul by Shinigami standards, and little more than a woman in her mid-twenties when compared to a human – perhaps even less, given her naivety, and yet she potentially had centuries if not millennia ahead of herself. She would never be in a rush for anything, could take all the time she ever needed to perfect her craft to a height a human could not hope to reach for the single constraining factor of time.

However, humans are tenacious. Ambitious. Full of surprises. They grow constantly and at a frightening pace – the Chinda should have known better than to underestimate her foe.

Within the blink of an eye the gangly limbed woman with the awkward accent changed into something vicious and almost primal, were it not for the cold, calculating gaze in those ominous eyes of hers. This was a person who had seen many hardships and combat, Nagisa realized in that instant. And from one moment to another the Shinigami was left to ponder if it was really a good idea to try and play by the mortal’s rules.

Evidently the mortal was no amateur. The jab had been thrown with expert precision, and even Nagisa’s kick was quickly outmaneuvered in an attempt to punish her for ever throwing it. When their legs collided the Chinda felt more like she was hitting concrete than flesh. This one would leave a mark. And what was worse: it didn’t slow the assailant down one bit. Twisting like a willow – one of the Chinda’s trademarks typically – the long limbed woman pressed the attack. Spun around and Nagisa felt as though she could see the muscles beneath her clothes work together in a beautiful symphony that would leave the Chinda potentially with a slashed throat.

This woman was no amateur. Far from it even. In a way she felt more threatening than some of the Arrancar the Chinda had gone up against. It was time to step up her game.

Nagisa felt the flow of Reiatsu distinctly, and clearly enough to the point that her impeded eyesight was of no problem. She leaned backwards, demonstrating impeccable balance and a flexibility many envied her for, and yet it was not enough to completely escape the blow. Dodging the sharpened edge of the weapon the metal of the knuckle duster connected with the Chinda’s cheek, transmitting enough pain to make the woman clench her teeth and enough momentum to send her spinning – an offer the fighter took up gladly. Pivoting on her foot Nagisa spun around with blinding speed, bringing her heel high over her head before sending it down with enough force to resemble a guillotine.

501/50=10;68

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White Day [closed for Clara] Apr 4, 2015 21:50:51 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2015 21:50:51 GMT -5

Her blow connected, if only just- the woman could feel the soft, squishy flesh of her opponent groaning as metal collided with chin in a display of raw, overwhelming power. She hadn’t managed a clean hit, but still. Even with a Gigai to dull the pain, the Shinigami would be feeling that one for days. She’d have to fix that, once Charlie was back. Scars were nice, but the sorceress didn’t want a mangled version of the man she loved. She wanted the real thing, whole and complete. And she would have him, one way or another.

But first, she had a class to teach; “How To Kick a Shinigami’s Ass 101”.

Clara’s mouth twisted in a sly grin as her prey spun like a top in response to her blow, giving the witch the quarter second she needed to retake her stance, this time arms crossed just in front and above her head in a defensive manner. The knives on either of her hands were close now, perhaps six inches or so between the points. Just enough room for a foot to fit between them. Or, in this case, an ankle.

It helped, sometimes, to be able to read a person’s emotions so fluently. You could learn all sorts of things about them, including what their next move might be. It was difficult to figure it out instantly, but given enough time, or enough focus, anyone could do it, so long as they had the right level of skill. And while the witch’s ability to perceive Reiatsu might not have been perfect, it was enough to get the job done. Especially when she abandoned all but the most necessary of thoughts in favor of battle hardened instincts.

The raven-haired woman’s foot slammed down with the force of a guillotine, crashing into the sorceress’s defenses in a flashy, but powerful, attempt to retake the advantage. But it wasn’t enough. True, she’d have a bruise to heal later, but that was nothing compared to what was about to happen to her opponent. Moving with as much swiftness as possible, the green-haired mortal executed two moves in perfect synch, her entire body moving as one, solitary muscle; crossed arms closed in on her opponent’s outstretched leg, hands opening in order to clam around the bitch’s ankle in a vice grip that would not be easily broken. At the same time, the woman brought her back foot up and forwards in a half-circle step, snapping out the limb with a quick, powerful kick at her prey’s knee.

Irony.

There would be no dodging this time, no turning the attack into a glancing blow. Already off balance thanks to the failed kick, the Shinigami would be hard pressed to do anything but stand there and take it, as any attempted dodge would only result in the witch tightening her hold on the trapped ankle and using it to toss the ivory skinned whore around like a ragdoll. However, if she didn’t move, the sorceress’ kick would connect, possibly shattering the pale woman’s kneecap and leaving her vulnerable to be thrown into the alley wall as well, leaving her all but crippled.

It was a no win situation for the petulant death god, one of her own making, and it would take a miracle for her to escape it unscathed. Of course, the option to eject from her Gigai still remained open, but it seemed unlikely she would choose to do so without taking at least some kind of beating. How severe that beating would be was up to her, but Clara would get what she wanted, no matter what happened.

Because the lesson had begun, and Von Brandt-Sensei was about to lay down the law.

Rule One: Flashy attacks. Don’t. Fucking. Work.
___________
WC: 628
GP: 12/88
OOC: Done! Finally. :3

Nagisa Smiling Blade

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White Day [closed for Clara] Apr 9, 2015 18:40:51 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on Apr 9, 2015 18:40:51 GMT -5

There was a surprising amount of things Nagisa managed to reflect upon as her kick connected and bruised the defending arms of the vile woman. For one it was the fact that Gigais were awful and it surprised the Chinda that in all these centuries technology had not advanced enough to provide them with flesh suits that weren’t cumbersome. Secondly the fact that she was starting to seriously dislike Germans. Thirdly the issue about perhaps needing to brush up her Hakuda skills. Yes, especially the last point began to rapidly climb up her priority list as Nagisa witnessed her new not-friend snake her arms around the leg to hold on to it.

You know, explained the Pale Lady with sudden calmness: It’s like I always said: you need to learn to be independent. You really on your knife a little too much, that’s why you’re getting your ass handed to you now.

Sadly enough the she was right. With her leg firmly in the arms of the other woman Nagisa had but one choice if she wanted to save her knee from the oncoming kick. Evading the attack the Chinda had a heartbeat left to wonder why she had never learned to invoke Hado without incantation before being thrown. A sigh escaped the young woman as she sailed through the air. Nagisa was thoroughly embarrassed. She had defeated Arrancar and Shinigami alike, yet was shown up by a lanky green haired girl. How shameful.

Then the Shinigami crashed into an alley, knocking over trash cans before barreling into a container. Staring at the darkening sky Nagisa’s field of vision was quickly blocked out by an orange cat that looked at her disapprovingly. “Oh, give me a break.” The cat meowed. “How was I supposed to know she was an onna?” Another quick meow.

Are you alright? inquired Taldeer.

I think she’s lost it. commented the Pale Lady.

The cat walked away.

“Fine, I am just about fed up with her anyways.” The Chinda rose, leaving her Gigai behind. Her appearance remained rather the same, safe for the fact that she would no longer be seen by anyone who did not possess a Reiatsu. Brushing away strands of hair that had fallen into her face during her unintentional dive Nagisa returned onto the field of battle with as much dignity as someone could master after being thrown and crash landing. Seemingly out of nowhere a tantou, more a large knife than small sword, had found its way into her hand. Absentmindedly she spun it through her hand whilst eyeing the mortal woman.

You know, I have almost come to like that smug smile of hers.

Do you ever shut up? inquired Nagisa.

That was a rhetorical question, I presume.

[/i][/p]

Then the Chinda vanished in thin air.

Within the blink of an eye Nagisa had traversed the distance between the two women and now stood at the mortal’s left hand side. The blue eye stared at the girl unnervingly and an eerie smile began to curl across the thin lips, yet the witch would hardly have the time to notice all that as Nagisa’s blade surged forward with blinding speed, eager to bite deep into the foe’s arm and sever her muscles.

Defanging the snake. First she would take out one of the woman’s limbs in order to reduce her to a single weapon and then she would take care of the rest. This was no different from taking out Lissandra – perhaps even easier as that Hollow had had an army of mindless followers with her. Clara would die in solitude.

601/50=12; 80

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White Day [closed for Clara] Apr 16, 2015 13:40:55 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2015 13:40:55 GMT -5

Everything was going according to plan. Her opponent had fallen for the trap, taken the bait, and now all that was left was for the woman to do was clean up the mess she would inevitably leave behind when the jaws of fate clamped down on the Shinigami’s throat.

Long, lanky limbs snaked around the other woman’s leg as she leapt over yet another blow, her agility enough to impress the green-haired witch, though not enough to dissuade her from the task at hand. Tightening her grip on the bitch’s ankle and calf, Clara pulled her entire body to the side the second her foot reconnected with the ground, using her powerful core to literally throw the raven-haired death god down the cramped alleyway. Serves you right, cocky little bitch. Come at ME with that flashy shit will yah’?

A loud crash accompanied the (rather hard) landing of the ivory-skinned woman, drawing the sorceress’ attention towards where her prey had come to a halt. She wasn’t moving much, save for the obviously rising and falling of her chest and the sideways twisting of her jaw that could only come from talking. But who could she be talking to? Certainly not back up- the whore was too stubborn for that. She would want to settle things herself, mano-a-mano, “Samurai duel to the death” style. It was a stupid ideal, one that the witch didn’t share or sympathize with, but she did understand it. At least enough to know how to abuse it.

Grimm, any ideas as to who she might be talking to? The woman was loathe to ask the book for advice, but she wasn’t about to take any chances with this one. Not when they were so close. Not when she was so close to finally getting what she wanted.

Her Zanpakuto, most likely. Or did you forget that they have those, child? Oh. Right. The talking sword thing. She had forgotten about that.

That won’t be a problem when we perform the ritual, will it? It would suck to go through all that work just to fail because of a stupid empathic weapon.

Not at all. If worst comes to worst, we can simply sever their connection and let the sword rot. It will not be difficult.

It better not be. Getting’ tired of all this crap getting in the way of my goals Grimm. Of our goals. She didn’t bother to address the slight correction she’d made in her speech. The book knew what she meant.

It really was getting annoying though, how the universe had all but conspired to keep her from security. Almost like it was trying to send her a message or something.

You are beginning to sound like that Arrancar at the shrine, girl.

Oh shut up Grimm. I’m nothing like that bastard, and you-

It happened in the blink of an eye. No, faster than that- it happened in the moment between thoughts, that tiniest of pauses present in every spoken word that stopped a sentence from blurring together into nothing but a jumble of unintelligible blabbering. In that one moment, the Shinigami had gone from lying on the ground in her Gigai, to standing outside of it, to half-crouching right next to her.

“Ward.” The word had come out reflexively, an instinct honed by years of experience activated by a danger she hadn’t seen coming until it was almost too late. Her own hubris had nearly cost the woman an arm, but, thankfully, she’d reacted just in time; light, blinding and all consuming, enveloped her body in a skintight barrier, forming an impenetrable defense just before the on-eyed bitch’s blade could dig into the witch’s flesh. Raw, “holy” Reiryoku coursed over and through her skin, hardening it to the point that the Shinigami’s blade simply bounced off, failing to break through the shield she had conjured despite its hasty erection. But it was a near thing, and before Clara could blink, the light had shattered, sacrificing its own integrity and strength in order to deflect the attack away from its caster.

That, however, was all she needed.

Bringing her (now safe) arm up elbow first while simultaneously side stepping forwards in half-circle steps, the sorceress brought the full weight and speed that her limbs could muster behind the blow, no longer holding back that bit of power she had been keeping in reserve for this occasion. Her opponent was fast, too fast if she was being honest, but that was alright. Even if she dodged the elbow to her chest, that didn’t mean she would be able to dodge the follow up blow- her reach was superior, even with the whore’s new found weapon, which meant that, if her opponent dodged or evaded the elbow, she could still catch her off guard and surprise her by bringing the rest of her outstretched limb out, attacking with the knife edge of her knuckduster by unfolding her limb like a hinge.

It was a safe attack, one meant to create some distance between the two so she could better read and predict her opponent’s movements- and they both knew that. But what the Shinigami didn’t know was that it was also a stalling tactic. Because she wasn’t about to fight this bitch seriously without some backup. Not even close. Grimm! Get out here, FAST. And bring the lizard, but holding him back; I don’t want to reveal all our cards right away.

On my way child. Try to stay alive long enough for me to save you?

Heh. Shut up Grimm.
_________
WC: 928
GP: 18/106
OOC: Annd done!

Nagisa Smiling Blade

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White Day [closed for Clara] Apr 24, 2015 11:25:36 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on Apr 24, 2015 11:25:36 GMT -5

Ah, Kido…something Nagisa detested almost as much as regenerators. Well, at least the former required some sort of skill and dedication whereas the latter was just plain annoying. Moreover, it felt as if skilled regenerators became sloppy in their moves due to the knowledge that they just could put themselves back together should they fail. Regardless of the Chinda’s likes and dislikes though the mortal finally showed some of her true talents by coating herself in what seemed like light itself. What would have resulted in a vicious wound now was completely negated by the soft glow.

With interest the Shinigami noted how little force it actually took to break the spell. Had it been because the woman had had not enough time to properly cast it? Or was this simply the limited extend of her protective spells? Having underestimated the woman already twice the Chinda decided to put it to her not having been able to recite the full incantation. It’s good to know that she needs to speak when casting. Nagisa thought yet before she could wonder if that was the case for all spells the stickly woman burst into a flurry of moves.

Clara’s moves were flawless, Nagisa could admire that, but she moved so slowly that it almost pained the Chinda. How could she hope to ever hit anyone if she danced like this? The pattern Nagisa read in the mortal was proof of the insight the green haired witch possessed, but alas, the Shinigami was not only thrice her age but also had as much combat experience. Lissadra, Nebula, Hounmaru – she had seen savants do their work, and by witnessing Kiriko she had seen the epitome of what it meant to be a martial artist. Clara could not hope to compare to that, but her ingenuity deserved credit, especially considering that she probably had had only a few years to develop her craft.

Nagisa ducked low, evading the elbow and the obviously telegraphed follow-up of the knuckleduster. Twisting her body slightly in the motion caused the flimsy coat of hers to flare up, shrouding her figure for but the fraction of a second – and that was all the Chinda needed. Aiming her blade Nagisa released her Shikai and with blinding speed the silver blade grew into a katana so dark it seemed to swallow the light. The weapon cut through the fabric effortlessly and was set to puncture the woman’s lower abdomen.

Stomach wounds. While they typically failed to kill the victim outright they ensured a continuous stream of pain. Moreover, nobody enjoyed the thought of what was happening inside of their body as ripped intestines spilled their contents, infecting the wounds in a way much worse than a conventional weapon ever could.

Anything to wipe that arrogant smile off her face. Nagisa thought without realizing that the pot was calling the cattle black for she too was smiling.

Lyvalaea had called it unsettling. Nebula vexing. To Taldeer it was a bad habit, but to the Pale Lady…to her it looked like opportunity.

508/50=10; 90

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White Day [closed for Clara] May 4, 2015 11:32:11 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on May 4, 2015 11:32:11 GMT -5

In combat there was a kind of flow- an ebbing, throbbing pulse that coursed through the very soul of those involved, regardless of age or experience or status. In a way, the woman supposed that it was a living thing, a semi-sentient entity not unlike her Grimoire which, while not truly alive, was still close enough that it could surprise you every once in a while. Few ever grasped the meaning of this undulating give and take, and even fewer knew how to use it to their advantage, but Clara believed that she was, at least to a degree, one of those chosen few capable of such a feat, and it was this innate awareness of the fight itself that allowed her to see that she had underestimated her opponent.

Skilled though the witch was with both fist and spell, she had neglected to take into account the sheer speed of the raven-haired Shinigami, as the woman possessed a kind of nimble, flexible agility that surpassed anything she’d ever seen (save for Vaizard Boy’s damn near precognitive awareness, but he was an Espada; they didn’t count). It was… humbling, almost, to watch the one-eyes whore duck underneath her, admittedly telegraphed attack and utilize the opening created by her own body’s extension to launch a deadly counter of her own. Almost.

In the end, it was the sorceress’ own momentum that saved her from the brunt of the death god’s blow- she had over-extended herself with the elbow and follow up, that much was certain to her, but the motion of the attack had created torque within the green-haired woman’s core, torque that could only be relieved by circular motion; in this case, that motion came in the form of a quarter-spin on top of the half turn she had already performed, one that affected her entire body, which twisted into the attack. Now, this in and of itself wouldn’t have meant a thing; getting stabbing in the side or the arm was only marginally better than getting your gut punctured, but that was not all that happened.

Even as her body made that crucial quarter-turn, Clara’s arms were on the move, her outstretched elbow pulling back towards her body while her spare shot up, attempting to intercept the now black blade that was sailing towards her side. There was no smile on the witch’s face now, no glint of enjoyment in her eyes; there was only the grimace of pain at the wound in her left shoulder, the soft sparking of steel grinding against steel, and a flurry of nigh unintelligible words that poured form her lips as the exchange took place.

“Burst, ye four kings! Smite thy foe with your mighty breath as you spread your wings! Spell Craft, Destructive Art!” There was only the moment, and the swell of power within as twin streams of flame exploded forth into being before her, threatening to engulf the Shinigami with their heat. There was only her will, indomitable and unyielding, as stone wall that could not be broken, no matter how hard the blow.

“Twin Lotus Fireball!” And then there was fire, and the woman proclaimed that it was good and just and pure, righteous in its mission to melt brick, scorch metal, and ravage one blue-eyes bitch to a tender, tasty crisp.

Burn!
_______________
WC: 554
GP: 11/117
OOC: This is like, my shortest post in this thread.

Weird.

Nagisa Smiling Blade

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White Day [closed for Clara] May 5, 2015 5:28:51 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on May 5, 2015 5:28:51 GMT -5

More twisting and turning. Nagisa almost sighed as she had to admit that the witch was one of the, if not the, most skilled fighters she had faced in a long time. Perhaps the time for tricks was truly coming to an end, a thought that was only underlined by the spiritual pressure the Chinda felt dwelling up inside the mortal. Before long words were pouring out of the green woman’s mouth, prompting the Shinigami to taking a sliding step back. A black sheath materialized in Nagisa’s hand and in the second it took the mortal to recite her incantation the Chinda assumed an Iado-stance. Grim determination stood on her pale face, a professional smile curled the corners of her lips and as a burst of flame rushed towards Nagisa, threatening to engulf her, the woman was prepared.

With a swiftness that surpassed even the speed of her Shunpo the Chinda unleashed her sword in a vertical strike. Like a comet it surged forth, trailing black flames. Sword and fire clashed, the former cleaved through the latter, parting the walls of flames like one might do with a heavy curtain. Nagisa could still feel the insufferable heat as the sorceress’s spell scorched the earth; stray hairs here and there were singed, a part of her coat was burned to crisp yet the Chinda’s spiritual pressure kept her safe from greater harm – and now the ball was in her court again.

Dropping into a partial crouch, both knees bent, right arm drawn back and left extended forward she grasped the hilt of her sword while resting the tips of her fingers of her left hand on the blade near the tip. Almost immediately the Chinda as a whole seemed to surge forward, the outline of her very body blurring for a moment as the woman infused her sword with the speed of her Shunpo before propelling it forward in a strike as fast as lightning that was aimed at the mortal’s heart.

Nagisa’s sword had far more reach than the witch’s weapons and the moment the woman sought to employ her spellcraft the incantation would open up a window of opportunity, one the Chinda was fast enough to exploit. Still, Nagisa could not shake the feeling that this was far from the last sleeve that the deceiving bitch had up her sleeve.

391/50=7;

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White Day [closed for Clara] May 13, 2015 13:11:12 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on May 13, 2015 13:11:12 GMT -5

Another failure. Damn. I was fucking sure that one would’ve caught her off guard. At least the bitch hadn’t dodged this time- she’d actually been forced to block it instead of just twisting beneath and around the spell like every other blow she’d thrown at her. The width of the flames might have had something to do with that, though it didn’t matter much, given how they’d been blocked. A half second faster with that incantation and I would have had her. There had to be some way around that damnable speed of hers- if not incanting faster, then perhaps another option, something more… subtle.

Child! That was all the Grimoire could get through their bond before the Shinigami made her move; less than a quarter second of warning, barely even enough time for a normal person to process a thought, let alone react to what it might mean. But then again, Clara wasn’t exactly normal; what amounted to less than a blink of an eye for a normal person was than enough time for her to react, particularly when defending herself.

Which was exactly why she wasn’t moving to protect herself. Rather than attempt to block the raven-haired swordswoman’s attack, the woman used the time allotted to her to do two things: the first was retake her stance while simultaneously channeling her Reiryoku through her body and into the skin of her left side, compressing it so that it formed a tightly compressed, yet unstable, sheath of energy. That was all she did to defend herself as the death god’s blade screamed towards her chest, and yet still the witch’s face twisted in a coy, confident smile. The fact that the raven-haired warrior’s attack wasn’t aimed at her left side didn’t seem to matter all that much.

The second thing she did was go on the offensive, extending her left arm in a smooth, downward cross just as her shield of Reiryoku was being formed, seemingly unconcerned with the black steel weapon that was inches away from puncturing her chest.

There was a reason for that though.

The concentrated globule of hyper condensed, spiritually enhanced plasma that was hurtling towards her opponent’s weapon might have been it.

The fact that said globule had enough force behind it to knock the thrust off course and send it careening into her protected left side definitely had something to do with it.

Plasma crashed against steel as the three blows moved in near perfect synch- the sorceress’ punch screamed towards the rapidly approaching Shinigami’s face, her own momentum being used against her while the stab, blown to the side by the bolt, crashed into the witch’s upper torso, puncturing the second skin of spiritual energy she had formed over it. What momentum remained in the blow was summarily robbed from it in that moment, as the unstable sheath of Reiryoku rapidly expanded outwards, pushing back against the strike until all it could do was gently kiss her side, leaving nothing more than a scratch. It wasn’t a perfect defense, but still. Better than the alternative.

Thanks for the warning Grimm- I’d have gotten caught up in that too if you hadn’t said anything.

You are most welcome child. I would advise not relying on my assistance in the future however; I do not believe that will work a second time.

Noted. Now pay attention. I have an idea…
______________
WC: 566
GP: 11/128
OOC: Annnd done!

Nagisa Smiling Blade

727 Posts

RankCaptain of the Second Reiatsu313 Defense60 Strength100 Speed120 Spirit33 ApplicationLink

White Day [closed for Clara] May 15, 2015 8:37:27 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on May 15, 2015 8:37:27 GMT -5

Her execution was perfect. Flawless. Her body moved beautifully, flowed like water and yet Nagisa found herself unable to enjoy the moment. Something was wrong and she was able to discern that from the minute changes in the woman’s Reiatsu that preceded her actual shift in body stance. Despite her senses being that sharp the Shinigami found herself caught in her own motion, propelled by a force that could easily spear a Menos. It was like a movie that played out before her mind’s eyes. A second signature, layered and hidden under the witch’s own, stirred and just as the tip of Nagisa’s blade was mere inches away from its target a gleaming bolt of energy seemed to meet the black steel. It discharged in a small explosion, one that left the Chinda locked and yet enlightened.

This mortal was not fighting alone. Not only had this spell been cased without any sort of incantation, it had also felt differently. This had to be the explanation as to why she was capable of keeping up with Nagisa. The Chinda would have smiled smugly in that moment if her situation weren’t growing dire and direr as time inched on. Protected by her guardian angel the girl had had the time to focus entirely on her offensive. Finding her own blade directed to a glowing piece of energy that had concentrated over the green one’s left side. What should have been an unstoppable force hit an unmovable object and energies discharged in a small explosion – meanwhile though a right fist surged at Nagisa’s face.

A victim of her own momentum the Chinda could do little to evade the hit. Pressing her left heel into the ground she tried to angle her body enough to evade the bladed fist but it wasn’t enough. Not this time.

It all happened quickly, too fast in fact to feel pain, and yet as the two opponents passed each other by Nagisa couldn’t help but feel that she had lost this round. A gush that started an inch below her eye and went on until the edge of her face opened her skin and blood began to seep out of the wound. It was a shallow cut, and already green Reiatsu began to flare up around the marred skin as the Chinda invoked a healing Kaido. Still, to think that she had been wounded in such a flashy way…that had been the first time in a long time. Perhaps the witch deserved more credit than Nagisa was giving her.

Regardless of that though, the Deceiver would not be allowed to walk away from this.

Pivoting on her front foot Nagisa brought her body around so that she was facing the same way as her enemy. Using that momentum she dragged her black blade over the other woman’s back in a vicious strike that returned the sword to its scabbard in one smooth motion.

That ought to have been the end for mere mortals.

Unfortunately there seemed to be little mere about this mortal.

The end?

She didn’t bet on it.

513/50=10; 107

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White Day [closed for Clara] May 18, 2015 13:12:03 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on May 18, 2015 13:12:03 GMT -5

Finally.

It had taken a lot of work, and more than a little luck, but the witch had done it- she’d landed a hit on the eye patched bitch. It wasn’t much of one, just a cut really, but it was enough. Because if she could hit her enemy, she could beat her enemy. Even if she was faster, the Shinigami couldn’t dodge everything she threw at her. And that little tidbit of information was all the sorceress needed to win.

This has to be done perfectly Grimm- we won’t get more than one shot at it, got it?

Of course child. Your pet and I will do our parts; you worry about your own.

C;ara didn’t need to be told what that meant- she could already see the black blade screaming for her exposed back, even though the death god had yet to actually launch her attack. The benefits of being able to read another person’s emotions were numerous and varied, but for her they most often manifested in the form of an almost pre-cognitive awareness of not only the environment and everything in it, but also of her opponents intended movements in it as well. And right now, with her mind so focused on such a singular task, the raven-haired woman was as easy to read as a picture book. Grimm?

“Ward.” The word cut through the air like a knife, spilling from the Grimoire’s metal mouth with enough raw power behind it to shatter steel and disintegrate brick. Only, this time, the light that shrouded the witch was not made in haste. This time it was a proper casting, and that made all the difference.

Allowing the slash to slide harmlessly over her light protected skin before telling Grimm to drop the ward, the sorceress turned to face her adversary, the momentary lull in the action enough of an opening for her to speak. “Is that all you’ve got, Shinigami? The threads of fate must have brought us together if that is the peak of your strength.”

“Indeed,” Grimm said, his false voice echoing from above their heads. “If this is your full measure of power, it shall be easy to make you languish in the despair of defeat.”

This had better work child.

It will work Grimm.

“Well?” The woman asked, body loosening as she prepared for another round. “Come on. We’re waiting.”

It has to.
__________
WC: 400
GP: 8/136
OOC: Yay! Moar GP!

Nagisa Smiling Blade

727 Posts

RankCaptain of the Second Reiatsu313 Defense60 Strength100 Speed120 Spirit33 ApplicationLink

White Day [closed for Clara] May 21, 2015 6:01:19 GMT -5

Post by Nagisa on May 21, 2015 6:01:19 GMT -5

Wards and spells and magics –why did she always have to get the odd cases? Nagisa could hardly suppress a sigh. This was fight wasn’t enjoyable at all. If anything it was tedious – o how she wished for an Arrancar or two; at least those fought honestly. As before a gleaming light streamed over the witch’s body, this time however it was a spell spoken by the book, something Nagisa noted closely, and hence it had enough strength to swallow her blow seemingly entirely.

When there was a moment of pause in which the girl and book tried to goad her back into the fray the Chinda almost debated to simple take her leave. She was much faster than the witch, that much had been long established, and since there was little joy in this battle, why should she stay? Nagisa tilted her head softly from one side to the other. There was no real reason to fight a human, and risking life and soul on her terms seemed petty…and still the Chinda could not bring herself to leaving. There was something else at stake for her entirely: pride.

Throughout her recent history, ever since she had entered the Fifth really, Nagisa had seen combat countless of times and while it had been trialing, grueling, hard and unfair, in her core she had always known that, one way or another, this would be satisfying. Sobek, Notch, Nebula, Lissandra, those were all names she remembered as close to fondly as could get when it was about someone who had tried to rip your heart out. This however…

Maybe it’s time for the gloves to come off, Nagisa thought to herself. Time to try some new things.

Rolling her right shoulder Nagisa gathered her Reiatsu around not unlike her sister when she released Shunko. Instead of igniting it though Nagi kept it swirling about until it felt more like water than fire. She dulled her Reiatsu that way until it became indiscernible; nothing could be read from it, instead it felt as if one was staring into the reflective surface of a pond. Next she increased the tension in her body, just as she had done before, in order to intertwine her Shunpo and swordplay. Then, slowly, Nagisa took her first step, then second and third, beginning to circle Clara with about six meter of distance between them.

For a second or two nothing seemed to happen, and yet something was off. The sound of her footsteps did not match with what could be seen and then even died down completely. To make matters worse after having only about three or four meters the Chinda’s silhouette began to flicker before it dissolved from her body completely. Through a varying cadence of her steps, as well as the total absence of noise during her movements, multiple images of Nagisa began to appear. Clara and her book were completely surrounded by neigh a dozen Nagisas, and for the first time in a while the Chinda found her lips curling up into a slight smile.

Then, as one, the lot turned on their heels and burst towards Clara at neck breaking speeds. In beautiful synchrony they all drew their swords, black fire trailing from the even darker blade, and the witch was about to be showered with blows – the real Nagisa though, the only one capable of inflicting physical harm, had hidden in the blind spot of the side where the girl kept the accursed book that had faulted the Chinda’s plans once too often.

A lightning fast strike, coated in the flame of decay, ought to ensure that this book would finally burn.

609/50=12; 119

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White Day [closed for Clara] May 28, 2015 17:14:17 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on May 28, 2015 17:14:17 GMT -5

If there was ever something that a Shinigami would be counted on to have, it would have had to have been an over inflated sense of pride. Clara could see it in the way the one-eyed wench stood ramrod straight even in the middle of combat, could feel it in the thrum and pulse of her Reiatsu as it washed over the semi-wrecked alleyway. It was in the very air she breathed, saturating the atmosphere with as much as her Spiritual Pressure could contain. The witch has rankled this woman’s ego, had deceived her, had tricked her, and (most importantly) had humiliated and embarrassed her in hand to hand combat in a way no other person had done in a long, long time. That was why she stayed- that was why they always stayed. Pride, mixed with a lack of good sense.

Still, the sorceress has to admit, the death god was skilled. And fast. Blindingly so. She didn’t even bother trying to track her flash step with her eyes; it was an exercise in futility, no matter how hard she focused. The bitch was just too damn fast to follow normally. The only reason she’d been able to keep up in this fight was because of her perceptive nature, her inherent feel for the fight’s pulse, and her ability to track the female’s Reiatsu with her sixth sense. It wasn’t the same as being able to follow every little twitch of movement like her opponent probably could, but it got the job done well enough.

Careful child- she is doing something with her Reiatsu, and I cannot get a read on it. She could see it, sort of; it was as if the woman’s Spiritual Pressure was diluted, swirling about her form and mixing with the air until it disappear-

Oh fuck me. There wasn’t time to think of a plan, wasn’t time to do anything but marshal her Reiryoku and turn towards Grimm before the death god lunged, instinct telling her the truth that her senses had failed to see. In combat against multiple enemies, the best (and only) strategy one could adopt was to take down the one you thought weakest in the group as fast and as hard as possible, removing what could have been a troublesome meddler while simultaneously instilling fear and doubt in your opponents hearts. And, despite the hand of cuts, bruises, and nicks she had collected during their earlier exchanges, the green-haired woman know for a fact that she wasn’t going to be the one targeted- after all, what’s more fragile than a book?

Power, raw and unfiltered, surged into her palms as she brought them up to bear at the tome’s position, their bond telling it all it needed to know about why. Grimm was far faster than her and, while their opponent’s attacks were fast, they weren’t near as quick as she was (usually)- all the book had to do was use the Swift Winds to propel itself up and out of the way in order to be safe. Mostly. The black blade would, in all likelihood, do little more than nick the rapidly ascending summon, if that. The flames that were connected to, and trailed behind, it, however, would do a lot worse. Paper was very flammable after all, especially when it was several thousand years old.

Clara didn’t vocalize the spell- didn’t have to with the level of skill she had in her mage craft. Speaking the words out loud was mostly for affect (though it was necessary to perform any of her incanted spells), and also for the rare occasion where she faced an enemy where she didn’t have time to speak the name of the spell out loud. Because once you cast a spell with words, everyone not versed in magic thought you had to use your voice to make the magic happen. But not her version. No, she had labored ten long years to create a system of spell casting that required no words, no symbols, no artifacts or other spirits. All she needed was power, and the will to mold it in the way she wanted.

Spiritual energy surged from her outstretched limbs in a flash of energy, the hyper-dense projectile flattening out and elongating into a two-meter long, razor sharp arc of Reiryoku encased wind that promised to cleave anything it touch clear in two. The Gale Cutter. A spell meant to accomplish one task, and one task alone; bifurcate whatever she threw it at as quickly as possible. If that one eyed bitch wanted to get serious, then she’d get serious.

The attack did its job well, soaring through the air and into the half melted brick face of the building Grimm had been floating on with enough speed to rival even the Shinigami’s fastest Shunpo, cutting into the roof of the building and continuing on to the ones behind it, for at least two hundred meters beter it finally petered out. Whether or not it actually hit her enemy wasn’t a concern for the witch- she just wanted the whore to move, to dodge it using that damnable speed technique so Grimm could get a read on how she maneuvered while in it. For later.

Grimm, status report!

My lower left corner is on fire, but I have it contained. The flames have a strange feel to them, but if I am given a moment to focus, I should be able to absorb them without harming myself in the process.

How long do you need?

Ten seconds.

…I’ll do my best. She could not lost Grimm, not now. His physical form could be remade in a matter of seconds through their bond, but against someone this fast, she wouldn’t get that kind of time without a distractions. Just don’t forget the plan!

I never forget anything child.

“Funny, I didn’t know you Shinigami hated books so much. Wouldn’t that be a nice headline? I can see it now ‘Death God Lieutenant Book Hater: How can we trust them to twist and shape our future now?’” She was smiling now, a near mirror of her opponents Cheshire-like grin. “You should try it some time. Reading, that is. I know you must dislike it, what with the one eye and all, but it’s really fun, I promise!”

Sarcasm dripped through the sorceress’ tone, her playful banter flying at the eye-patch wearing whore as fast as she could throw it out. “I even have one for you to start with. It’s called ‘Reality: As the Gods Intended.’” Her smile widened at that, but she didn’t stop. “It’s a good read, honest. All about how a stupid little Shinigami lieutenant gets tricked by a mortal girl into running into without thinking about the consequences, and then summarily gets her ass kicked. You’d like it.”

Take it. Come on and take it you bitch.

Take it and find out just how fucked you really are.
___________
WC: 1160
GP: 23/159
OOC: Sorreh this took so long! T_T Work has been killing me.

Bleach Gotei

White Day [closed for Clara]

Post by Nagisa on Mar 14, 2015 23:22:21 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2015 13:51:12 GMT -5

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Post by Nagisa on May 21, 2015 6:01:19 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on May 28, 2015 17:14:17 GMT -5

Welcome!