Post by Hazuki Tsukimiya on Jul 10, 2016 11:53:46 GMT -5
To call Hazuki unimpressed would have been an understatement.
She had known—as a result of poring over reports and analyses—that Hueco Mundo had never quite been as insignificant as it was now, but it hadn’t really dawned on her just how far the extent of their powerlessness had spread until this so-called invasion. The last time something like this had happened, the reports had indicated Hollows spilling forth from their garganta like water from a burst dam, but this was nothing more than a thin trickle of sewage eking out from a ruptured pipe. The only visitor that posed any sort of risk was the King himself, and Commander Fujikagi had met that particular problem head-on with Captain Minamoto in tow, leaving the remainder of the Hollow forces to buzz around like mosquitoes, irritating but harmless.
It spoke volumes, really, that several captains and lieutenants hadn’t even bothered making appearances—this was well beneath them, not even worthy of their attention. Chinda—with her new position as captain of the Second, a position which, quite unlike her previous billet, she had earned—hadn’t taken any noticeable action as of yet. Neither had Shinpei, or anyone of note from the Fifth. She couldn’t imagine anyone from the Third’s command was accomplishing anything of note, and it wasn’t as if the casualties were raining in. Hazuki herself had taken the liberty of strolling through Seireitei at a leisurely pace, taking in what would no doubt have been the devastation if the Hollow-breeds had been anything worth worrying about. As it stood, however, the interlopers were heavily outnumbered and heavily outgunned by the Shinigami forces in Seireitei alone.
To compound the problem, several mortals had taken the liberty of coming to Seireitei’s aid for some unfathomable reason. It was testament to their endless self-centeredness, the collective delusion that each and every one of them with their fleeting lifespans were somehow the center of the universe. There was a reason Hazuki spent as little time as possible on Earth, and it was its inhabitants; the incessant, sheeplike bleating of those unfortunate enough to perceive the spiritual set her teeth on edge. They had managed to convince themselves that they actually mattered, and it was so very exhausting. Their souls were nothing more than grains of sand in an hourglass, waiting for the inevitable moment when they went from one bulb to the other. A lifetime in the bulb of the living, a lifetime in the bulb of the dead. To and fro for all eternity. At least the people in Rukongai had the good sense to know they weren’t special.
All this was, really, was a momentary distraction, and Hazuki saw nothing wrong with treating it as such. With her sixth sense trained on the Fourth’s compound to guard against further incursion, she was simply taking in the sights. Perhaps she would interrupt one of the meaningless clashes in the city at some point, but for now she would let the gnats fight among themselves in earnest, allowing them to imagine that what they were doing was in any way significant.
She hopped from rooftop to rooftop, not even bothering to contain her spiritual pressure. It billowed outwards playfully, and for once Hazuki’s mood almost seemed to match it; there was nothing to be angry about, nobody to intimidate, nothing before her to crush. It struck her that this must have been exactly how Shinpei felt when he was on Earth: at peace but bored, subconsciously inviting the unknown to take his mind off the monotony.
Perhaps that’s what Hazuki was hoping for—
Someone to rouse her from this terribly boring lull.
°610
She had known—as a result of poring over reports and analyses—that Hueco Mundo had never quite been as insignificant as it was now, but it hadn’t really dawned on her just how far the extent of their powerlessness had spread until this so-called invasion. The last time something like this had happened, the reports had indicated Hollows spilling forth from their garganta like water from a burst dam, but this was nothing more than a thin trickle of sewage eking out from a ruptured pipe. The only visitor that posed any sort of risk was the King himself, and Commander Fujikagi had met that particular problem head-on with Captain Minamoto in tow, leaving the remainder of the Hollow forces to buzz around like mosquitoes, irritating but harmless.
It spoke volumes, really, that several captains and lieutenants hadn’t even bothered making appearances—this was well beneath them, not even worthy of their attention. Chinda—with her new position as captain of the Second, a position which, quite unlike her previous billet, she had earned—hadn’t taken any noticeable action as of yet. Neither had Shinpei, or anyone of note from the Fifth. She couldn’t imagine anyone from the Third’s command was accomplishing anything of note, and it wasn’t as if the casualties were raining in. Hazuki herself had taken the liberty of strolling through Seireitei at a leisurely pace, taking in what would no doubt have been the devastation if the Hollow-breeds had been anything worth worrying about. As it stood, however, the interlopers were heavily outnumbered and heavily outgunned by the Shinigami forces in Seireitei alone.
To compound the problem, several mortals had taken the liberty of coming to Seireitei’s aid for some unfathomable reason. It was testament to their endless self-centeredness, the collective delusion that each and every one of them with their fleeting lifespans were somehow the center of the universe. There was a reason Hazuki spent as little time as possible on Earth, and it was its inhabitants; the incessant, sheeplike bleating of those unfortunate enough to perceive the spiritual set her teeth on edge. They had managed to convince themselves that they actually mattered, and it was so very exhausting. Their souls were nothing more than grains of sand in an hourglass, waiting for the inevitable moment when they went from one bulb to the other. A lifetime in the bulb of the living, a lifetime in the bulb of the dead. To and fro for all eternity. At least the people in Rukongai had the good sense to know they weren’t special.
All this was, really, was a momentary distraction, and Hazuki saw nothing wrong with treating it as such. With her sixth sense trained on the Fourth’s compound to guard against further incursion, she was simply taking in the sights. Perhaps she would interrupt one of the meaningless clashes in the city at some point, but for now she would let the gnats fight among themselves in earnest, allowing them to imagine that what they were doing was in any way significant.
She hopped from rooftop to rooftop, not even bothering to contain her spiritual pressure. It billowed outwards playfully, and for once Hazuki’s mood almost seemed to match it; there was nothing to be angry about, nobody to intimidate, nothing before her to crush. It struck her that this must have been exactly how Shinpei felt when he was on Earth: at peace but bored, subconsciously inviting the unknown to take his mind off the monotony.
Perhaps that’s what Hazuki was hoping for—
Someone to rouse her from this terribly boring lull.
°610