Post by Shigure on Jan 24, 2017 12:13:11 GMT -5
Cradling the stump of his severed left arm and sprinting through the sandy dunes with great difficulty, it did not take much of a poor footing to send the injured Shinigami tumbling to the ground with a hoarse yell. Wincing, groaning, and muttering inaudible curses to himself, Shigure was hardly the quietly composed young man he usually was - and his appearance only made this more apparent. His silvery hair was caked in matted blood and similar patches of reddish crust adorned generous sections of his uniform. Emitting yet another grunt to cope with the pain that had bypassed his healing magic, he remained face-down to catch his breath and to allow his joints a moment’s respite; his adrenaline had since worn off and he needed some time to recuperate. Now that his pursuer had most likely given up the chase, he would remain where he was in a sort of contrived bliss and rest under the crescent moon for a little while.
At least it’s not raining.
Smiling bitterly at his current predicament, Shigure allowed himself the strained humour to enjoy what he still had - it was optimism at its finest and an attitude he was no stranger to.
He then groaned a little louder as the wetness leaking from his upper body renewed itself, staining his saturated robes further and creeping out onto the pale sand like ink on paper. His breathing became increasingly shallow as his consciousness threatened to leave him but the sting of regret kept him awake and, more importantly, alive.
While still face-down, a sudden weight compelled him to remain plastered against the loose ground just as he was about to rise. His earlier attempts at controlling and steadying his breathing were quashed entirely as Shigure felt his diaphragm collapsing from the immense pressure, squeezing out every last trickle of poisoned air from his bruised lungs. He could not even lift his head from the sand to see who or what the frightening presence was. Instead, glaring helplessly at the ground merely millimetres away from his face, he then felt as his bloodshot eyes shrank into the back of his skull, leaving a wake of hollow ringing throughout his eye-sockets and temples.
The arrival was surely another Arrancar but it was a presence unlike any other. A trail of saliva meandered from the side of an otherwise parched mouth as the malevolent aura enveloped him - along with an acrid stench that may simply have been himself only made worse by the shimmering heat that now suffocated him from all sides.
Shigure’s surroundings became akin to that of a mirage — transient and insubstantial as the dunes’ very appearance traversed the fine line between reality and the imaginary. Hueco Mundo had thus far been a cold, sterile, and god-forsaken place, a fact which rendered the sensation of flux foreign and uncharacteristic of this dead expanse. It was seemingly relentless, almost condescending as if to remind Shigure of how insignificant he was as he now lay incapacitated in the sand; he was already subservient to the being rapidly approaching him and all he could do was await his bloody sentence.
But, where ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise and, before long, Shigure had fallen unconscious.
540 | 540
Octavia
-ABANDONED-
At least it’s not raining.
Smiling bitterly at his current predicament, Shigure allowed himself the strained humour to enjoy what he still had - it was optimism at its finest and an attitude he was no stranger to.
He then groaned a little louder as the wetness leaking from his upper body renewed itself, staining his saturated robes further and creeping out onto the pale sand like ink on paper. His breathing became increasingly shallow as his consciousness threatened to leave him but the sting of regret kept him awake and, more importantly, alive.
While still face-down, a sudden weight compelled him to remain plastered against the loose ground just as he was about to rise. His earlier attempts at controlling and steadying his breathing were quashed entirely as Shigure felt his diaphragm collapsing from the immense pressure, squeezing out every last trickle of poisoned air from his bruised lungs. He could not even lift his head from the sand to see who or what the frightening presence was. Instead, glaring helplessly at the ground merely millimetres away from his face, he then felt as his bloodshot eyes shrank into the back of his skull, leaving a wake of hollow ringing throughout his eye-sockets and temples.
The arrival was surely another Arrancar but it was a presence unlike any other. A trail of saliva meandered from the side of an otherwise parched mouth as the malevolent aura enveloped him - along with an acrid stench that may simply have been himself only made worse by the shimmering heat that now suffocated him from all sides.
Shigure’s surroundings became akin to that of a mirage — transient and insubstantial as the dunes’ very appearance traversed the fine line between reality and the imaginary. Hueco Mundo had thus far been a cold, sterile, and god-forsaken place, a fact which rendered the sensation of flux foreign and uncharacteristic of this dead expanse. It was seemingly relentless, almost condescending as if to remind Shigure of how insignificant he was as he now lay incapacitated in the sand; he was already subservient to the being rapidly approaching him and all he could do was await his bloody sentence.
But, where ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise and, before long, Shigure had fallen unconscious.
540 | 540
Octavia
-ABANDONED-
