The assassination|part two[Closed, Invite Only]

"A little ditty, about Jack and Diaaaaane..." A little bit tone deaf, but no one could argue that the man didn't sing with enthusiasm, and that was something no one could take away!Leaning against the brick exterior of the hospital, Genki Ogawa stuck out like a sore thumb against the quiet, reserved backdrop of the medical facility.  While this was the ideal place for sore thumbs

Leaning against the brick exterior of the hospital, Genki Ogawa stuck out like a sore thumb against the quiet, reserved backdrop of the medical facility.  While this was the ideal place for sore thumbs, he wasn't doing his 'deep cover mission' any favors.  Genki's terminology, not the official mission declaration.  For a man as subtle as this officer typically was, wearing a gigai was about as clandestine as he was capable of pulling off.  To pass the time, as he waited in the shade several meters from the front door, a pair of white ear buds snaked down his neck, ducked between his jacket and his t-shirt, and connected to an off-white rectangle held firmly in his hand.

"Two American kids, growin' up in the heartlaaand..." And sure, his playlist was a little thin in this day and age when handheld devices could capture hundreds of songs and encompassed decades or even centuries of human musical innovation.  But considering he just bought the thing literally twelve hours earlier?  This was pretty great.  John Mellencamp went a long way, even if he wasn't still churning out hits.

Even though this man of the Fifth was a horrible spy there were a few simple tricks he had picked up along the way.  Easy ways to enhance your cover.  Classic 'moves', if you will.  Like standing directly next to the enemy; a move he was practicing right at this very moment.  This infirmary he was leaning against?  Why on Earth would either the Queen or her Knights expect someone to walk right in the door?  Sure, stand strong and bellow and cry out your challenge from the front steps, or from the throne room.  Bluster and posture as if it were some grand time of honor and chivalry in service of king and country.  Do those things and they'd see you from a mile a way--and all be ready and waiting.  But just walk right in the front door while they're all nervously pacing in outside the room their Queen was recuperating in?  People could be mighty unobservant during times of stress.  So that's what he would do.

"Sayin' OH YEAH," he placed his hand on the door and pulled it open as his eyes rushed to adjust to the dramatic shift between sunlight and carefully controlled environment inside.  "LIFE GOES ONNNN.  Long after the thrill of livin' is gone."  With a bit of a shimmy to his step he walked deliberately, foot over foot, weaving between people in the waiting room.

He could feel the Queen first and most obviously, even dampened inside of this gorgeous hunk of a body that they called a gigai.  Her nerves and her energy were frayed--raw and exposed to even the most untrained sixth sense to easily feel from hundreds of meters away.  Her strength was uneven, weak, angry, fearful.  Any and every emotion that they taught a warrior to bottle up inside and save for when he was home by himself.  She would be no threat to him before he had made his move.  But her Knights...he could feel them now, much more clearly than he could have probed from the outside of the building.  A far cry from their Queen in raw Strength, but they were all on edge.  Tense.

The infirmary had an aura about it coating every door, flowing down every hallway, and hanging like a thick cloud in every room: anticipation.

No one saw him go through the swinging door behind the charge nurse's station, or, if they did, they didn't have the spare time to stop him.  The infant's energy was infantessimal compared to their mother's but...It was there.  Two small signatures, barely coherent.  It was a testament to their heritage and to their potential that, despite everyone surrounding them, Genki could sense their life force through the haze.

Three nurses scurried about the Intensive Care Ward, all dedicated to the children.  They were stable, or at least the level of commotion suggested as much, but not well.

"Little ditty, 'bout Jack and Diane."  He spoke to the nurses through the open doorway, just loud enough to make sure that they all heard him.

With a sudden lurch, the gigai began to topple backwards as the soul of the Lieutenant of the Fifth fled the vessel and it was rendered inert.  The nurses, of course, would think the poor fella had just dropped dead.  And as they scurried out the doorway and left the babes unattended, the soft scrape of steel against linoleum was barely audible between their medical jargon.

Two German kids doing the best they can.


//834

“What should i do…….”

It wasn’t like Rick didn’t want to be at the hospital, he couldn’t be happier for the queen. When he received the invitation at the Ashia household, he didn’t attend the party. It wasn’t out of disrespect to the Queen and her kindness of inviting him, Rick only thought it was a bit too soon to show his face around there. However, he thought this assignment was much more important, maybe the most important assignment he had since joining the Quincy order. When it came to gear, Rick had his Bauen Brille goggles, along with a bit of his custom Seele Schneider. To top it all off, he was wearing Reishi Heiso for some extra padded protection. 

What to do……”

Maybe he was overreacting? Was it unnecessary for Rick to bring his things over?

“All of this waiting”

Freyleif was bringing in new life to this world, a new life for the Quincy to protect. Rick especially loved kids, seeing them run around made him feel a bit warm inside from time to time, reminiscing his old childhood before the tragic accident. They had their entire futures ahead of them, along with some dependency on the adults in their life to do their part. In a way, Rick felt that responsibility. As long as he had the power that came with being a Quincy, he could protect what he really thought that mattered in the world. However, Rick still felt a little awkward when it came to the Queen, his constant pacing was made apparent in the little corner of the waiting room. He was worried, he only hoped that Freyleif could survive the childbirth, as well as hoping that the children would be healthy and safe.

“Maybe I should make a special crib for them? I think it would be better than these balloons.”

If the pacing wasn’t enough, Rick already started to talk to himself. He had no intel about the father, but he was hoping that this man would show up.

“A celebratory champagne bottle and a cigarette? Would that be too tacky for him?”

With all this thinking, Rick didn’t initially notice that he brushed past a few people. Rick wasn’t petty, he expected hospitals to be like that, people brush past each other all the time. Most of it was his fault, and he hoped that people forgave him if he wasn’t too respondent. He only had the queen in mind, even his spiritual senses were in tuned to any sort of changes in her, or picking up on any other signature that he didn’t recognize.

“Speaking of that….”

It happened, the baby finally came! He wondered if the other Quincy noticed that Freyleif gave birth?

“Well, one down………”

They weren’t out of the woods yet, there was will another child that have yet to show themselves. You would think it would be easier after the first child came, but it Rick could tell that the whole ordeal was taking its toll on the little lady.

“Come on kid… you can do it….”

After an hour, the second baby came, leaving Rick to feel a bit relieved. Two little signatures have now joined the fray, the Quincy babies of royalty. Rick was proud, he was happy to be a witness of such a cherished moment.

“Should I check on her?”

Rick looked around as he finally moved from his small corner in the waiting room. However, that feeling of happiness he was experiencing was suddenly replaced with dread upon feeling a strong spiritual signature of a Shinigami in the building.

“What?! No….no…..”

How did they pass him? Why would they be here in the first place? Rick originally thought that the kill order on the Quincy was due to the interaction of combatting hollows. That’s how he ended up engaging with the Shinigami for the first few times. The only reason why he could think of in regards to their presence was because of the queen, along with the children. Would the Shinigami stoop that low to attack her after childbirth?

“Can’t take any chances!”

Rick took off into a wild dash towards the Shinigami ‘s spiritual signature as he activated his protective blut and pulled his goggles down. Connect, mapping! In an almost instantaneous fashion, Rick was given the blueprint of the hospital, with the information being fed to him through Reiatsu Perception. This made for a good combo, due to being able to coordinate where everyone was through the use of Reiatsu Perception and manipulate the field. If there was going to be a fight, he had to protect both Freyleif, the children, and make sure the hospital didn't crumble to pieces.

With the use of the goggles and his mastery over Reiatsu Perception, it wasn’t hard to alter the contents of the entire floor into its much more potent and stronger soul synthesized variant. It was apparent, the color of the structure around them was a little paler, and a lot more durable. A few extra layers of soul synthesized steel was placed with the structure of the rooms that contained the children and Freyleif, adding the maximum amount of protection that Rick could give them from afar. And finally, a wall of soul synthesized granite appeared in front of Genki, cutting him off from moving forward.

If anything, this would of made the battle a bit more complicated for the Shinigami, the amount of soul synthesized substances that were present in the area sealed out any traces of spiritual activity. Genki couldn’t necessarily find out with room they were in anymore if they were moved, even if vaguely tracking their signatures. Not only would they be harder to break in, but guessing wrong would end up with the Shinigami possibly being stalled. If anything, Rick bought time. As soon as he entered the corridor and saw Genki from afar, Rick would shout out to him while his shotgun materialized in his hand. Genki was already in the room with the babies, so the idea in Rick's head was to be a proper distraction so that Freyleif and her family can be safely escorted off the premises. 

“Hey! Visiting hours are closed!”

He wasn’t overreaching, Rick was exactly where he needed to be. He didn’t trust the presence of the Shinigami being here.

WC 1009

Nervous. This was not Wraith's finest moment. He found himself staring at his own reflection in the hospital bathroom for hours, or at least what felt like it. He wasn't actually sure how much time had passed, but he did remember he excused himself for a moment shortly after Freyleif was in her room. The concept of time was foreign to him as he had no clue how long the Quincy had been in labor, not to mention how long he had been staring at himself. He sighed to himself mentally, and a feeling of self loathing began to rise up from his core. He couldn't help but hate how pathetic he was being right now.

Wraith had no idea what was happening in the world around him. Too absorbed in his worries to bother sensing things, it took all that he had to finally force his feet to move. Slowly he left the bathroom and in a blur of colors found himself making his way back to the hospital room Freyleif occupied. He was sure he heard voices talking to him as he approached the door, nurses that were tending to the Quincy mostly. Voices scolding him, some trying to reassure him. Even with those sunglasses covering his eyes, the thief's nervousness was evident. No playful smile was made from his lips. No amount of effort he put forth could hide the tension in his heart. Still leaving all that aside he managed to take that final step and enter the room.

As Wraith entered he was greeted by the screams of his teenager lover. Apparently the event was no under way, and all he could do was watch. Swallowing his saliva the thief took a seat on the right side of Freyleif's bed, and held onto her right hand. He wanted to offer reassuring words, but he found himself unable to. It wasn't often that the thief wasn't able to use his words, but this was clearly one of those times. Wraith found himself sighing mentally to himself, as he once again realized he couldn't actually help Freyleif when it mattered despite all the charming words he threw her way.

The first baby came at some unknown time. Given his lack of fluency in German, Wraith could only understand that something didn't seem to be right. He couldn't leave Freyleif just yet however, since another child was on the way. More time passed and the second child entered the world. Freyleif collapsed and Wraith reached over to stroke her hair, finally finding his voice. "Yer' amazin' Frey-han. Ya' did amazin'." he said softly to her unconscious form as he sighed in relief.

Now free of worries Wraith slowly was regaining his faculties. He suddenly realized that his spiritual senses were reacting to something. Looking down at Freyleif and then towards the door the babies were led out of, the thief frowned as he pondered what this feeling could mean. He thought about the Quincy that this young Queen could have had accompanying her, but still felt he should at least check on things. Temporarily he left Freyleif's side and exited the room just in time to hear a man wielding a shotgun yelling a one liner at a man wearing black clothes and dragging a sword a long the ground above a downed body surrounded by nurses. His children not far from this rather strange scene, Wraith suddenly felt his heart beginning to pound.

Both of these men were more powerful than him, he could sense that much. However, that didn't matter much. Their reasons for being there did, which he hoped were good and peaceful ones. Not one to take chances though and noticing the nurses were not attending to his newborns, the thief quietly moved forward to acquire and move the twins out of harms way for now. He would scold the nurses on Freyleif's behalf later, though the fact they didn't seem capable of seeing the man with the sword caused his already erratic heart rate to further increase.

The earbuds popped out.  Delicately, one after the other as he tugged them free and huffed a sigh out through his flared nostrils.  The wall of granite climbed up the air before him, gleaming with a strange energy that resonated with the young man who had come up behind him, until it had partitioned the room in two.  It wasn't very thick--at least not yet-- but it had obscured everything on the other side from all of his senses.  It was kind of impressive how quickly it went up, but, it wouldn't be enough.

The chatter of the nurses had dulled from a chorus of concern until it was little more than background noise to the two men.  They weren't even working on a corpse!  Genki would have most certainly felt it funny, probably even worth a laugh, if there weren't a shotgun aimed at the center of his back.  "Hey!  Gun dude!  What kind of music do you like?"  The towering Shinigami's voice took on a harsher tone with the wall right there to reflect the predatory malice buried deep, lurking in the foundations within his words.

Lieutenant Ogawa turned to face a phone hanging from the wall and lifted the receiver from the base, letting it fall to the floor.  The cheap plastic housing clanked off the linoleum two or three times before sliding to halt.

"Oops, sorry."  He hadn't meant to let the damned thing fall to the ground but, well, it was easy to seem clumsy with unfamiliar technology.  

"Just a second," his voice which had bellowed just a moment ago almost seemed sheepish by comparison.  "Didn't mean to do that..."

One arm's length after the other, he yanked the cord upward until the receiver was safely in his hand and laid to rest on a table.  The device that held his playlist, some cheap cell phone, came to a rest next to the microphone.  Genki mumbled under his breath, reading the tiny little labels that presumed to explain the buttons of the wall phone.  "Intercom?  Is that what I want?"  And with a mechanical boop he pressed the 'pound' button with the word 'intercom' standing watch above it.  He shot a wayward glance towards Rick, certain that this young man had to like something on this playlist.  There was something for everyone!  Conway Twitty, Jay-Z.  Freddie Mercury, Snoop Dogg.  Robyn, and even...Yes, yes there it was.  Seal.

A click and a bleep echoed throughout their wing of the hospital as the intercom paging system came to life.  It seemed that he got at least this much right.  And with a tap of his finger, the speakers began to play the tune that would surely spell doom for all to hear its siren's call:



"I love this!"  He squeezed his opinion in before the first verse could begin.  "There was this really hot recruit back in '95 that told me I looked like a younger, Japanese, much taller, more handsome, black-haired version of Val Kilmer.  She loved to make out to this song."

His head was bobbing and his shoulders stayed to sway gently as only the musical stylings of the 90s could invoke.  "So, chief.  I'd really appreciate if you could guard the front door of the hospital for me.  Wouldn't want anyone to bother us."

With an effortless heave, he slid his dai-katana free of its scabbard and gripped it tight between both hands.

The smash came down, cleaving into the wall of soul-synthesized granite and shattering a column into dust and rubble just wide enough for him to turn sideways and slip through.  And as the explosion of dust and rubble clouded the room and billowed out into the hallway, Genki's baritone roared out over the ruckus, "Bayyybayyyy, I compare you to a kiss from a roooose on the grey!"


//642//1486

I wish I had never come back to Germany.

That thought dominated much of Lucas’ time back in the castle in Berlin. After a wildly successful venture in Japan, Lucas had been called back to Germany to be present for a momentous occasion. What he had then immediately assumed to be the announcement of the Academy and everything associated with that great transition of the Order—it’s true birth, in his opinion—was instead something else.

That their illustrious Queen, who had apparently just returned after an extended absence and entirely separate Kingship he never heard about, was pregnant. She wanted as many people as possible, primarily he most promising of Knights, to be present for the birth of what was reported to be a set of twins. Lucas had made that list and, as much as he couldn’t believe it, set out for Germany after a quick pit stop back in America to visit his father.

From the moment he got back to the castle, he regretted everything. The entire flight over from the States had him entirely preoccupied with the situation: They were called together not to do something about the Order, but because their Queen—not even an adult by most standards—was pregnant and about to give birth. Normally a wondrous occasion, of course. But now, of all times?

How terrible of a decision was this? Then, to gather all of her Knights for this, instead of a long overdue announcement about the Academy or anything else relevant to the growth and evolution of the Order? Nor did she offer a lick of explanation for why she had so quickly abandoned the throne, and then picked it back up, all seemingly on a whim?

Lucas began, very quickly, to wonder just what the Order was to Freyleif. At first, he had great hope that it was something grand in her mind’s eye, and that she could see it to its full potential. Now, Lucas sat on a chair a few hallways down from the infirmary where Freyleif was. He rested his chin on top of his fist and stared at the grey, stone wall in front of him. His thoughts were fixated entirely on the thought that, just maybe, Freyleif really was just still a child—and that the only thing she cared about was the attention this whole Order gave her.

Maybe this was a mistake, he wondered, images flashing through his mind of the countless people he had met in order to recruit to this organization. Scars from his battles with Shinigami burned against his skin, a reminder of the blood he spilled and pain he endured for this cause. Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted my gut on this one. Maybe I should just withdraw the Alliance from this and go home.

The hair on the back of Lucas’ neck stood upright a moment later. An electric jolt ran down his spine, and sent the familiar tingling sensation of fear throughout every inch of his body. He felt it before he realized it, a presence of absurd magnitude just a few corridors from the infirmary where the helpless Queen lay—the helpless child—and, soon, her newborn children.

A presence nearly as powerful as her own, and possessing an eerie familiarity. It was just a feeling, one of those same gut feelings that Lucas decried mere moments ago, but it was nearly enough to make him certain.

The man got on his feet in a flash. His unbuttoned blue jacket flowed behind him as he march, boots against polished, stone floor, straight for the source of the Spiritual Pressure that had appeared in the middle of the castle. Seconds passed, and then turned into a minute, and Lucas turned the corner to see two men in his cone of vision.

One he recognized very well: Rick Rogers, a man he had personally recruited. He saw in him, at the time, and still did, an enormous potential to expand what the Quincy Order could do.

Across from him was a bear of a man, with dark hair that stood on end and eyes that seemed to pierce the air in front of him. Around him, the entire world felt heavy, and even from a distance, Lucas felt the sweat bead on his brow. His entire body felt two, maybe three times heavier in the man’s presence, as if he tried to stand up on the surface of Jupiter.

While Rick dressed about as Lucas would expect for him, the other man—the uninvited guest—wore something completely different. Lucas recognized it nonetheless, of course.

The Shinigami’s Shihakushō.

With power that rivaled his Queen, weapon drawn and being swung at a nearby pillar, wrapped in an outfit like that, Lucas could only deduce a single thing: a Captain had arrived, and it was not a social occasion.

Rock and dust exploded outward a second later as the pillar Lucas had seen vanished under the supernatural force of the man’s swing. The entire castle shook around Lucas, and the vibrations ran up through his boots to rattle his teeth. Lucas raised an arm to cover his eyes as the brown wave of soot and finely-ground stone rushed over him. But his other hand, his right hand, reached out. The index and thumb of it came together as Lucas’ glowing, blue glove formed.

It didn’t look like the man walked away the instant after he destroyed the pillar, and Lucas could still feel that man’s presence vaguely forward from hallway in which he stood.

But it was when he called out, something about a a kiss, that Lucas could tell exactly where he was.

“Rick, stop him now!” Lucas shouted, his voice frenzied by the adrenaline that hit, just as an idea came to mind, and he hoped his newfound friend would realize that what happened next was Lucas’ signal.

His fingers snapped together and lit off a fiery, blue explosion that immediately cleared the air of the debris the Shinigami had put into it. Lucas hoped it would give Rick a clean line of sight, even if just for a moment.

Of course, Lucas aimed it in the best place he could think of: directly in the Shinigami’s face.

*****

1,042 Words

Locked in at my current Stats and Skills. Let's do this thing.

The world rushed by Aodh in a blur as the desperate Sternritter tore towards the hospital, the usually calm man's heart crashed in his chest as his thoughts were filled with dreadful scenarios. He tore Reishi from the air and formed waves of the spirit particles beneath his feet as he used Hirenkyaku to cross as much distance as possible. Sweat dripped down the man's face as he moved, he was certainly stronger than he'd ever been but the suffocating Sanrei Device affixed to his left hand and forearm was still making manipulating vast quantities of Reishi a strenuous task and Aodh needed to go fast, faster than he'd ever went before. His hands were tightened into white knuckled the right of which held his phone in a death grip, the screen still blinking the last message he’d read.

Assassination attempt made on her Majesty. Shinigami. Berlin Hospital. Both Queen and unborn children in danger. Area not safe. Come Quick.

The text had come from one of the Queen’s personal guards. There had been calls too but Aodh didn’t have time to take them. He’d been far out in the countryside hunting Hollow and had to rush as swiftly as his powers and body would allow to get back to the Capital. The Shinigami were to blame, he knew it but he didn’t know the details however a creeping suspicion was filling the man. A horrid thought. Not too long ago they had accepted Shigure into the Order, giving him sanctuary, a decision which had pleased the Sternritter considering the respect he held for the white haired Soul Reaper. However had it been a ploy? Had he betrayed them? Or perhaps this was simply retribution from the Gotei for harbouring a fugitive?

There wasn’t enough information and now was certainly not the time for questions.

Aodh was sure a call had went out to more Quincy than just himself and he could only hope as many Knights as possible were available to answer the call. At the back of his mind he knew he should call Sternritter Khen and his Lieutenant Calendrea, perhaps his cousin too. Those he trusted most and the strongest of his people but his mind was too preoccupied by all the terrible things that could be awaiting him. What if Frey hadn’t made it? What if she’d lost her children? What if they’d all died? Fear that his friend, that poor young girl, might have been murdered. That her unborn children would never see the world, live their lives. That the Order would be left leaderless.

Fury.

That came right after the fear. The burning hatred he felt towards the Seireitei. It had been building since his encounter and battle with that last Soul Reaper but now it was an inferno. Where Aodh had always separated the individual Shinigami from the Tyrannical and Genocidal Gotei Organisation they were now collapsing into one. “I was just following orders” was never an excuse. Perhaps his Father had been right, perhaps they did consider themselves on such a higher level to mortals that no atrocity enacted against the living would give the Spiritual Samurai pause.

What had the Quincy done to deserve this? They had tried to halt any aggressions against the Soul Reapers, indeed many altercations Aodh had heard off were initiated by the Shinigami themselves. Aodh’s own unfortunate altercation with the warrior from the Soul Society had only occurred when the Shinigami forced his hand after he'd moved against other innocent Quincy whose only crime was their destroying Hollow that had been preying on powerless mortals.

Self-righteous bastards.

Perhaps the Quincy of old had been right. Perhaps there could be no peace between their two races. Once that thought had brought with it untold sadness but now resignation was beginning to take over. It seemed fate itself had aligned itself against him and his own personal beliefs, dreams and wishes were being washed away by the inevitable tide of destiny.

He forced those thoughts aside. He didn’t need to waste time or energy thinking on that. He just had to reach Freyleif.

He was in the City now and it took only minutes for him to get to the hospital, the Irish Quincy had always been fast but he was pushing his limits like never before. Yet he, for all the effort it had taken him to draw the vast amounts of Reishi for the long flash steps he was feeling amazing fresh.

Once he entered the hospital he used his prenatural speed to move quicker than the ordinary human’s eye could track. He darted in and around those men and women filling the corridors leaving only a slight breeze behind and the occasionally crashing sound as he forced aside any doors in his way. He was halfway towards the emergency surgery theaters when he slid to a halt. So distracted by what he was sensing the Quincy didn’t notice the stares he was getting, a man who’d seemingly appeared out of thin air and was dressed in a strange blue and white military uniform. Around the back of his waist hung multiple Seele Schneider and in his breast pockets there were numerous silver tubes. Upon his breast was the ornamental pin of his rank. Ignoring the stares he turned his head one way then another as he tried to pin down what he was feeling. He could sense multiple significant spiritual powers in the building.

There was Freyleif...weak but recognisable and nearby was the faintly swirling power of Wraith. Straining harder Aodh could sense….something...blurry, fuzzy...could it be the children? Were they born or simply so close to birth that he could feel them. This new and confusing sensation threatened to distract the man but he tore his attention from it to the others.

Two other powers, one nearly as great as Aodh’s and the other much weaker however close to them was a pillar of towering strength almost as powerful as the Queen herself. They were also purposely exerting their strength. That was a bad sign.

It was these three latter powers that the Sternritter Birith took off towards running down the hospital as quickly as he could however he had enough presence of mind now to mute his own Spiritual Power. He couldn’t suppress it completely but he could hide it enough that hopefully any potential attacker would fail to sense him or at least underestimate him.

He came to a stop just as a torrent of dust and rock exploded out of the doorway forcing Aodh to throw a hand across his face. In response to this unusual scene the cross on his left hand, dangling from his white archery glove, began to glow with blue light and a moment later his silver bow formed. This would be the first fight since donning the device that Aodh would be able to start a battle with Dhiaga Bogha. Through the dust he could make out the faint outline of a huge man standing with what was distinctly a long blade in one hand but what struck the Quincy the hardest was what this figure was wearing. A Shinigami’s Shihakushō.

‘It was them!’ he thought to himself furiously.

Such was his rage that he instinctively drew on the most subtle of his power’s facets. The ability to flood himself with the calming energy of Caidil Teagmháil, drawing on it more strongly than he had ever done so before. The anger was still there. It roaring like a storm within him but he stood at the centre of it in a void, unfeeling, peaceful, tranquil.

He heard someone shout from the other side of the Shinigami, an unfamiliar American voice, commanding Rick to shoot. So Rick Rogers was here? Good. He was one of the greatest and most experienced of the Order’s Knights. Aodh’s thoughts, now coldly logical, decided on his next course of action. If the unknown Yank and Rick were attacking the Soul Reaper from the other side then it would be best if Aodh fired from the rear, hopefully unseen with his physical presence masked by the dust cloud and his spiritual one being as diminished as he could make it.

Raising his bow in a single smooth motion he gently rested his fingers against the string willing a glowing arrow of pure destruction into existence. It was quite possible that he was misinterpreting the situation of course, he had only just arrived but considering the situation he decided the risk was acceptable. It was sensible.

Aiming his bow at a lower angle for the Shinigami’s legs, reasoning if the Soul Reaper dodged then at least he wouldn’t hit the other two men by accident, he drew back the string of his bow. He threw more power into the summoned Heilig Pfeil. His first strike had to be significant. Turn the tides of this battle early if possible. The dust that served to better conceal his presence however also hindered his own sight. Luckily Aodh had trained his marksmanship in all sorts of situations and using his spiritual perception he honed in on the powerful Shinigami’s exact location and position before loosing his arrow with practised ease.

-----------------------
WC: 1534
Total WC: 1534

"Excuse me?"

This man definitely had some nerve with the music fiasco. Did he think this was a game? Of course, a death god with a god complex, even ignoring the clear urgency of the surrounding area. However, it could be because this man can back it up, he was far stronger than Rick was. On the flip side, Rick has been in worse situations than this, it was almost as natural as getting dealt a terrible hand at a card game.

“Holy shit ….who the hell are you?!”

That comment was met with a slight face palm at the audacity of this man. Was this pajama man just going to casually bump to his music and not take Rick seriously? Rick was similar in a sense, but it was mostly through one liner comebacks and his occasional smoke break. But this time, the stakes were a lot higher, and this person was in front of him was on a whole other level, figuratively speaking. The power of this Shinigami was real, breaking through Rick’s construct as if it was an easy ordeal. That display of power would make any mortal man waver, but Rick wasn’t just any man. He was a Quincy, and this hospital contained the signatures of his brothers and sisters, those who swore an oath to the crown in favor of the orders interest and the protection of humanity. Everyone had their worth, their usefulness.

In addition to that, he wasn’t alone. The yelling of a superior, a voice he haven’t heard in a long time. Lucas didn’t change much, but he was trusted by the queen, and some strengths could only be seen through the quality of leadership. That much was proven with the fact that Lucas did the honor of clearing up the debris.

“I know! I’m on it!”

The grip on his weapon tightened as Rick took aim, the rippling sound of his sanrei glove over the tempered steel of his refined Quincy weapon. After taking aim, Rick fired out a barrage of rounds at the opponent, miniature blasts of energy that were more concentrated than the usual bursts of Reishi. It didn’t lack in power, and to top it all off, Rick had the capabilities of controlling the trajectory of the shots The blinding blue lights were zooming around the hall like a light show in zigzag motion, each of them under the controlling flow of the person who fired it. It was a test; the main point of the attack was to surround the Shinigami and converge. For every little way that the Shinigami dealt with the situation, that was an opportunity for Rick to think of a more effective way to combat him.

However, that wasn’t the only reason this attack was chosen. Due to the degree of Rick’s assault, the Shinigami would be inclined to commit his attention to Rick as the aggressor. There was one more Quincy that he was banking on, the participation of the second master in his student's life. Aidan was here too, Rick’s reiatsu perception picked up on him. He was a little stronger than Rick as well, which meant that if the Shinigami was to think of Rick’s barrage as child’s play and started to eat them, he would be biting off a little more than he can chew if he wasn’t paying attention. Rick was already starting to coördinate with Aidan without even communicating, a fine showing of the veterans battle sense.

This was going to be a tough battle, but the success of the Quincy was clear. They had the numbers stacked against the shingiami, and they had their teamwork.

WC 609
Total WC 1618

Of course, no one was going to watch the door for him.  It was well known that Quincy were twats, and a popular scientist in the Fourth Division scrawled out a theory onto a chalkboard in some lounge room that became infamous: 'the size of the Quincy is inversely proportional to how big of an asshole they are'.  He said he was drunk when he wrote it, but he never erased in the next morning.  Which, if anyone has ever known a quiet guy that got drunk, means they thought that all the time but just were never brave enough to say it without some 'liquid courage' to get things going.

As Genki turned his broad shoulders and took a long stride sideways, he could hear the commotion from outside of the room.  Hopefully, the medical personnel had gotten clear of everything going on here but it was impossible to tell.  And what was even more surprising was that the Quincy arraying themselves against him either didn't give a shit out about the well-being of a handful of doctors and nurses or they hated him and his presence so much that it just didn't matter.  Both prospects were disappointing for people trying to defend what was essentially their home.  That is, unless...

Unless there was resentment regarding the Queen.  Her Knights were likely reticent about their presence, simply doing their duty or answering to what was asked of them, meeting the minimum standard their teenage monarch required.  That explained the overall poor security.  That explained the vulnerability inside the hospital.  She was surrounded by sycophants!  The Quincy Order was a still-wet log sitting atop a crispy pile of tinder and if it were not carefully tended--at all times--it wouldn't take too much more than one good gust to extinguish it.  Freyleif was trying, trying real hard, to tend to it.  But boy, could Genki be a hurricane when he wanted to.

But back in the moment, the sheer force of Lieutenant's swing had rattled the room, the hallway--hell, the whole floor--all the way down to the last nail.  Even the drywall shook, even if for a brief moment, but the quick thinking and swift action had bolstered the structure of everything nearby with the thin, silvery sheen of Soul Silver.  It was enough to spare the superstructure from the brunt of leftover force that the makeshift pillar of granite had failed to stop.  And there, in a very fancy set of 'incubators' hooked up to all kinds of equipment and monitors, were the newly birthed twins.  Being 'wet behind the ears' was always just a metaphors, but, well, these things really still were.  Sweet, innocent, little AAA batteries.  Not quite all the way ripe, but hey, it wasn't like he was shopping to produce.

A snap of the fingers cut through the brilliant chorus Seal was enchanting the hospital with over the PA as a burst of blue flame radiated heat onto Genki's backside.  Nothing too troublesome--maybe some blistered skin and singed clothing--but his cover was completely gone, blown away in a light puff of dragon's breath.  The air, now free of dust and particulate, was clear to show him the righteous blue and white glow of a Heilig Pfeil from a second, crouched Quincy.  The little shit in a uniform with his hands still up, frozen in his post-finger-snap pose, made three.  Now -this- was worth the distraction.

The arrow roared towards him, making the wide hall look and feel much smaller as it drowned the corridor in its holy light.  Thankfully, Genki had been dragging his dai-katana behind him and so it had trailed back on the side still facing the Quincy.

Turning his hand over so cutting edge was ready to greet the incoming attack, the tower of a Shinigami held his blade out and swept upward.  A shower of sparks and light engulfed the doorway and the room!  If that wall of synthetic granite had not been there, the Quincy would have surely killed the babies, the doctors, the nurses, and every other human within 60 feet of the impact.  The raw force pushed Genki backward, heels trying in vain to dig into the tile and hold himself steady against the force.  He slid, slowly at first as he tried to brace, coming to a stop a good ten feet behind where he had once stood.

Shortly behind the first arrow, just as the light faded, were the hundreds of tiny little pellets fired by Rick's gun zigging and zagging around the hall as if they were a swarm of flies--the Quincy were nothing if not succinct against this unfamiliar opponent.

"And now that your rose is in blooooooom," he inhaled deeply as he strode forward to meet the assault, the song never leaving either his mind or his lips.  Bracing his trailing foot on the wall of rock, Genki lowered his head as a sadistic grin grew and spread to dominate his face.  A snap of energy propelled him off of the wall and down the hall and right through the incoming shot.  My turn.

He came to stop between tall, stick of a man that tried to 'snap fight' at him and the punky blond with a shotgun.  Whipping his arm forward, he grabbed at the uniform and belted out the end of the chorus into the man's face as he tossed him over his shoulder, soaring through the air towards the guy with the bow.  "The light hits the glooooom on the graayyy!"

And with a snap of the head, he leveled his gaze and brought that smile to bear on Rick Rogers.  "Tough to shoot a gun without hands, eh?"

Steel sang as it ripped through the air and cleaved in front of the man, hoping desperately to sheer through one or both forearms and feel the spray of hot blood along its blade.


//981


Defensively:
First, I'm taking Lucas's spell to the upper back and back of the head as collateral damage.  40 Spirit vs my 90 Defense means I am taking the hit and treating it as Menial.
Second, I am blocking Aidan's attack.  He has Master rank, I have Master rank, and 110 Strength vs 90 Spirit.  This block is "successful".
Third, I am going to eat Rick's attack spread over the front of my body.  I am "dodging" towards Rick, with 45 Speed Expert rank vs 75 Spirit Master rank.  A superior hit resulting in "Minor Wounds" spread out over the front of the body.  75 SPR vs 90 Defense.

Offensively:
First, my Shunpo comes down somewhere between Lucas and Rick.  I grab at Lucas by the shirt, just a raw stat check at 110 Str, not intended to inflict damage.
Second, I hip toss Lucas at Aidan, again, probably just a raw stat check at 110 STR.  I won't "ask" for any wounds to happen, so I'll leave it to you to decide.
Third, I slice at Rick with 110 Strength and Master Weapon Skill; I am aiming to do damage to his hands/forearms/arms.

And yes, Kiss From A Rose does continue to play over the PA system.

Black smoke clouded Lucas’ sight of the Shinigami’s face. The initial, blue flash illuminated only the mildly amused expression the invader wore. Moments later and the smoke passed over the man’s shoulders and face to reveal only minor blistering and the charred collar of his robes. Lucas’ eyes widened at the sight of his full-force explosion amounting to little more than a particularly nasty sunburn.

Of little comfort to the slack-jawed Quincy, Rick sprung into immediate action. Before anything else, he generated spiritual constructs to support the hallway and shield the infirmary behind him. The single swipe from the invader’s Zanpakutō rattled everything around them and put cracks in the stone walls and foundation even though they hadn’t been directly hit. With that single move, Lucas realized that Rick may have saved their lives.

Without missing a beat, Rick raised his two weapons. Bullet after bullet, each glowing, fired off from the barrel of his guns and towards the Shinigami. Each one changed trajectory abruptly, at sharp angles, as they converged on the man. Every single shot gave off an eardrum-shaking bang—and Rick fired as many as he could.

Then, as if Lucas’ prayers were answered, another Quincy appear. Lucas saw him before he felt him, another man with dark hair, much like himself, but notably shorter in appearance. When Lucas finally did get a read on him with his spiritual sense, he almost immediately had to shut it off: He felt stronger than Lucas and Rick both. While he still got dwarfed by the presence of this Shinigami, he was easily the strongest of the three.

Lucas watched as the man crouched down, opposite the hallway from Rick, and fired off an arrow in the back of the Shinigami’s legs.

For the Quincy, the good news ended there.

The singing Shinigami—literally singing, to Lucas’ bewilderment—swiped his sword forward from the lazy position he held it, just behind his feet. He spun around and twisted the cutting edge into place just in time to meet the arrow head-on in a clash of steel and spirit. The collision cast a light-show of blue and green and red throughout the whole corridor and drew long, long shadows along the floor. Once again the entire structure shook with force that was, although a league below what the Shinigami created earlier, still much more powerful than anything Lucas believed he could do.

When the light dimmed and Lucas saw clearly again, the Shinigami looked no worse for wear. Instead, he continued to sing with as much joy as a child that skipped down the street on a warm, summer day. This jovial attitude carried him, with a swift step that Lucas couldn’t quite follow, away from Aidan entirely…

…And right up into Lucas’ face.

“How the f—” Lucas tried to curse as the wind from the Shinigami’s speed washed over his face and lifted his bangs. The grinning face of the man bore down on him next as Lucas tried to step backwards, his only escape. Instead, he felt the front of his thick, blue jacket compress in the vice-like grip of the casually singing Shinigami. His right arm rose in reflex to swing a hard right into the man’s jaw, but he was several orders of magnitude too slow.

By the time Lucas clenched his fist, he felt his feet leave the polished floor. The world around him blurred and Lucas felt his whole body groan when the full force of the Shinigami hurled him down the hall and straight at the freshly-arrived Shinigami. When he left the Shinigami’s grip he felt his jacket give way like wet toilet paper and watched as scattered into the air he flew through.

Lucas screamed the entire way. The air-pressure alone paralyzed his arms and, although the sheer power of the Shinigami ensured he flew faster than Lucas ever thought possible, the micro-seconds felt like minutes. He struggled to move and felt his every muscle burn from the effort. In that moment, Lucas realized that if he crashed into the wall or the floor at this speed, after a throw like that, there would be nothing left. The image of his crashing into something, when he couldn’t even move the air, played in his mind—and it always ended with his body torn to shreds in seconds.

That’s when his vision turned blue. He felt something warm wrap around his body and divert his course just enough. A second later, he landed. The impact on his right shoulder felt much softer than he imagined. cracked floor of the castle corridor. He tumbled once across the cracked floor of the castle corridor, then twice. When he came to a stop he reached out and clutched at his shoulder while the pain arced through his nerves. The pain turned his arm numb.

Around him, the net started to evaporate and Lucas found himself laying on his back at the feet of the new Quincy. His entire jacket was gone and he felt the battle-heated air against his bare chest as he grit his teeth. Lucas sat up first and scrambled to his feet. The adrenaline kept him upright even while the world spun around him.

“Hit him again,” Lucas called out to the man beside him while his arm hung numb at his side. “Back of the skull, or the spine! He’s a Captain, we can’t let him fight Rick head-on!”

He must to be a Captain, Lucas reassured himself.

Before his savior even answered, Lucas lifted his left arm. The gloves he summoned remained intact even after the throw and bright with power. He brought his fingers together once more and snapped a second time. Just like before, an explosion ignited directly in the Shinigami’s path—and once again in his face. A blinding flash of blue announced it before the fire, heat, and shockwave followed.

With that opening, Lucas shouted one more time, “Rick, while he’s blind!”

*****

994 Words

Given the scale of this four-person fight, I'll summarize my combat-specific stuff down here!

First, Lucas is saved by Aidan taking an action to "block" Genki's throw by catching him with a 90 Spirit Reishi Net at Master. Lucas still takes a Moderate Wound on his right shoulder from the landing.

Next, I try to blow up Genki's face again! Or at least blind him!

If anything, Rick had to give the Shinigami some credit. He took those hits like they were nothing. Rick was a bit disappointed that the mystery opponent didn’t show much of a response to the previous attack, but he knew that they could at least whittle down this opponent enough to exhaust him, disregarding of the difference of strength that the current Shinigami before he had. As long as they were flexible with their attack patterns, the Quincy could figure something out. That was until the Shinigami used his spiritual energy to propel himself between Lucas and Rick.

It happened pretty fast, something that Rick wasn’t expecting. Yet, how couldn’t he? This individual in front of him just boasted the strength begin his sword swings, how could he not be a close-range fighter? The first thing that happened was the sight of Lucas rising into the air in an awkward flight, it surely didn’t seem like he did this intentionally. He was confused, and the power behind the throw made Rick grimace about the event, it caused him worry about the guard of his fellow. However, all he could do is place his faith in Lucas and his skills, as well as bet on Aidan’s interference. They weren’t fighting alone, they fought together as a unit. It didn’t truly matter to Rick why this enemy was here, the sole matter that counted was the effective ways that he could think of in order to stop him.

It didn’t truly matter to Rick why this enemy was here, the sole matter that counted was the effective ways that he could think of in order to stop him. After Lucas was tossed across the corridor in a rag doll motion, the Shinigami turned his views to Rick this time around, teasing him. If there wasn’t any killing intent made apparent before, this guy definitely made it known to Rick now. Still, maybe the Shinigami underestimated Rick a little. If he thought close quarters was Rick’s bane, he was woefully mistaken. It was a part of Rick’s reputation to contend with all of his power. The Quincy gunslinger challenged the swift moves of the Shingiami with the rapidity of his own, daringly shooting a Quincy bullet at the border of the vane as it got down. It required rather a bit of precision to execute this play under such pressure, and it wasn’t even with the determination of beating the encounter, it was performed with the sake of keeping his limbs together 

The injury was minor, giving a slightly deep cut on Rick’s left forearm. It was his shooting arm, joined to his dominate hand when it came to taking action against this worthy opponent. Shinigami might be let down at the fact he couldn’t take Rick’s arm, merely the drawing of blood in a valuable limb was enough to cause them even for the time being. Rick gritted his teeth as he registered the pain mentally, planning his next move, waiting for some kind of opening to reveal itself. It would have been unrealistic to wait for a miracle, but Lucas, the man who Rick had respect for, shouted out again while giving Rick the proper distraction.

The blinding flash was more like a descending angel of victory, each appearance opening up the Shinigami to more opportunities of having pain. Rick was planning to get even with this guy, one way or another. The goggles protected Rick from the brilliant illumination of the Lucas’s attack, leaving Rick free to change the intent of his shotgun over to Genki’s midsection. Pulling the trigger once more, Rick released a transparent blast of spiritual glass shards. The soul synthesized glass fragments on contact, so a direct attack can wound an opponent and continues to feed upon a spiritual body to grow into a crystallizing state of soul synthesized glass. Genki ate up the last attack effortlessly, but this attack was really geared towards fighting spiritual beings, as well as being crippling. It would be Genki’s mistake to underestimate Rick, he had no intention of making it comfortable for him.

Not in the slightest way..

WC 688
Total WC 2306

info in spoiler

The hallway hummed with power and even the reinforced walls shook from the energy being thrown around. Even as the smoke began to clear properly Aodh saw that the Soul Reaper had been practically unfazed by the combined efforts of the three Quincy.

Even Aodh’s own Heilig Pfeil seemed to do utterly nothing. It granted him little satisfaction to see that when the Shinigami parried the attack he was forced back a several feet backwards. The force of impact between arrow and sword sent a reverberating shudder down the corridor. Even through the calming effect of Caidil Teagmháil he still sighed in relief. If the synthesised material hadn’t held then the collateral damage could have been horrific. Yet even that attack hadn’t been strong enough.

Aside from the Sternritter’s attack both Lucas’s and Rick’s struck true but with little effect. The weird little explosions that the Yank did little more than tan his skin. Rick’s attack was more powerful which the Shinigami charged straight through using Hoho. The Soul Reaper stopped right in front of the American and to Aodh’s utter shock he grabbed the other Quincy and hurled him down the corridor.

Straight towards the Irishman like a professional pitcher’s fastball.

The Quincy knew that he had neither the strength to catch the other man nor could the other Quincy survive such a throw unless he was caught. Still he didn’t need to catch the man physically, there were other methods. Throwing out his right hand Aodh swiftly began weaving threads of Reishi attaching them to the walls on both sides of the corridor in front of him. The threads of spirit particles began to connect and multiple in complex patterns at an extreme rate. Within moments a net of glowing blue light. The Quincy stranger struck the Reishi construct and it absorbed the impact, parts of the energy formed fabric snapping under the extreme force causing Aodh to step backwards worrying that it would rip completely. However luckily the man was deposited safely, if not unharmed, on the ground.

Aodh cast his gaze down the hall but he couldn’t make out if Rick was alright but his attention was taken away by the man next to him shouting as he stood up.

“A Captain?” he repeated softly.

Could it be true? If so then they stood no chance surely…

Even through the void he that he was floating within, the tranquillity he was artificially inducing in himself, the man’s blood ran cold. The tranquility was shattering. This situation was so severe that even Aodh’s calming powers weren’t completely muting his emotions. After all the Shinigami had slaughtered almost the entire Quincy people centuries ago and there had been, at most, six Captains involved. Which had been enough. Could this Captain have been one of them? How many Soul Reapers had he slaughtered over the years, the decades...hell the centuries. Who knew how long this man had been alive.

It always came down to this. Could the Quincy people ever overcome the overwhelming might of the Seireitei? The military junta that ruled the Soul Society was constantly interfering with their lives. From simply getting in the way right up to mass genocide. Was it simply their fate to suffer under the black garbed murderers whims for the rest of eternity? But he had defeated a Shinigami before, not a Captain of course but then again Aidan himself had also been much weaker then too. They could win...they had to win. More importantly he knew that Rick needed help as soon as possible.

‘Attack how though? The Heilig Pfeil hadn’t worked last time though.’ he thought to himself.

His first thought was a full force Licht Regen. Filling the entire area in front of him with literally thousands of arrows would be an undodgable attack and frankly the most powerful use of Heilif Pfeil at his disposal. The walls might hold. The issue was doing so would mean he’d nail Rick too, possibly killing him.

Luckily he did have another, more powerful, projectile at his disposal than his reishi arrows.

Putting a finger through the ring at the end of one of the Seele Schneiders hanging from his waist he spun the weapon at his side causing the glowing blue blade to flicker into existence. Putting the blade-arrow to his bow the man drew back his string at the same time as the gloved Quincy tried to blind the Shinigami.

Taking a deep breath he loosed and the Seele Schneider tore through the air aimed directly at the Shinigami’s back right between his shoulder blades.

------------------------------
WC: 765
Total WC: 2299

Actions Summary

#1 - Defensive
As Lucas already said - Aodh blocked Genki’s throw with a Reishi Net:
Reishi Manipulation - Master
Spirit - 90

#2 - Offensive
Aodh attacks Genki with a Seele Schneider arrow aimed between his shoulder blades:
Spirit Weapon - Master
Spirit - 90

If it manages to actually hit then damage over time/other effects will be calculated with:
Holy Artifacts - Journeyman
((Since there’s no hard and fast rules for these things I’ll let Genki describe this and choose what it does if needed))

Were guns a good weapon in a hallway?  Strictly speaking, whether or not that actually mattered didn't have a lot of impact on one Genki Ogawa in the 'strategic' sense.  Tactically, there was little to be done about the problem of being between three 'guns' in a long hallway.  Sure, the walls could be blown out with enough effort, but unless he was willing to bring the whole damn hospital down on all of them that gesture wouldn't be good for much.  Besides, how the heck was an aspiring warrior supposed to punch a guy in the face from thirty yards away?  Trick question: you can't.  Not without some sort of...flying robo-mechanical fist.

The small-fry with the well-kept uniform survived his trip mostly intact with the help of the lad down the hall.  Reiryoku surged together in some sort of webbing and 'caught' the poor lad like a Randy Johnson fastball.  Hopefully, it was a lesson the little American wouldn't forget anytime soon!  But if it were not enough, the Lieutenant would be more than happy to clarify later.  Still, a fragment of the Shinigami couldn't help but respect the sheer tenacity this trio was representing on behalf of their Queen.  He respected it so much, in fact, that he dropped his guard long enough to shoot a nod to the little shit as he tried to reorient himself and claw his way back up.  But rather than being polite and waving back to acknowledge the gesture of sportsmanship, Lucas thought it best to scorch Mr. Ogawa's face--his precious, beautiful, handsome face--with another blast of energy.

Although he turned his head away with a sharp yelp and with all the haste he could muster, the brilliant blast of blue razzled and dazzled before him.  The searing touch of heat and energy had already caressed the Acting Captain and left a pattern of burnt skin and fried eyebrows in barely the time it took to blink.  One thing to be said about the power in this young man's hands was the sheer speed with which he could uncork its destructive potential.  Genki, despite his experience, barely had time to register the swollen bubble of energy waiting to burst directly before him.  The first time he had been hit by it, it was a blindside from the back.  But this time, it was right in front of him.  He should have been ready.  He should have seen something.  One snap of the finger and it had nearly cost him his vision.  The stinging in his eyes and the burns to his face would be the last lesson he would need.

Both thankfully and unfortunately, Genki spun around back towards the mop-headed kid with the shotgun.  The slash to the arms, while it had found flesh, had not cut very deep.  Instead of rendering the man hands-less, it really only served to knock him back and draw some blood.  Maybe the ole aiming eyes were out of alignment in this small, artificial place.  There's no way the Germans built this infirmary with comfort in combat at the forefront of their design.  Despite the problems discourteous exchange, Lieutenant Ogawa was willing to move past it and settle things in a civil manner.  That is until Mister Rick Rogers felt it necessary to let his shotgun voice its opinion for the second time.

The blast welled from deep within the barrel but the sharp, piercing blue glow on a forming attack was easily recognized even through watery, dusty eyes.  Reishi gathered outside the barrel like water being drawn up a hose in one long, powerful pull until Rick's spiritual pressure molded and changed the latent energy into something else, something more.

Two things remain unchanged.  First, Genki was still outnumbered.  Second, no one in the history of human civilization had ever, to this date, seriously recommended standing directly in front of a shotgun as the 'best course of action'.

Yet, despite what he was feeling, Genki Ogawa could also feel the unmistakable build up of energy associated with a second attack coming from his friends on the other end of the hallway.  This was different, though.  Smaller, more compact, more focused.  Not one of the fancy light arrows at all but something...artificial?  Quincy certainly liked their gimmicks and trinkets.

As if Lady Fate herself were smiling on this adventure, the chorus of the ballad on the PA had reached it crescendo just at Genki had made up his mind.  The grin had never left his face, and the soothing melodies of Seal would certainly not be taking it away anytime soon.

'BAYYYBAYYY, I compare you to a kiss from a rooose on the graaay'

He leaped to the side, dai katana outstretched in a reverse grip, and slashed towards the waiting barrel of the gun.  The specially hand-crafted cartridge of doom exploded out of the muzzle and collided with the cutting edge of his Zanpakuto, shattering and scattering as it careened down the hallway towards the other Quincy who had failed to attend their 'hunter safety' courses as children.

But even he, the unflappable Genki Ogawa, couldn't hold that smug look on his face for very long.  Almost immediately after turning the attack to his advantage, a searing pain shot through his back as the Seele Schneider tore through his shihakusho and ripped into flesh, finding home just below the left shoulder blade.  Bullseye, for the 'Sternritter' with the more conventional Quincy weapon.

"You know," he bellowed into the hallway as he inhaled sharply.  Although he would never admit it, the impact of the weapon had nearly knocked the wind right out of his lungs.  Thankfully the hit was off center, or he might have fallen into a heap on the floor if only for a moment.  "Hitting guys in the back went out of style a long time ago.  If you've got something to---ah, fuck it."

The Lieutenant turned and squared himself so he could see all three of them at the same time--Rick on his left, Aidan and Lucas on his right.  "You guys are alright.  I feel like we could really make this a regular thing if you wanted to."

Wordlessly, he held his dai katana out with his arm extended and pointed the tip towards the floor.  All the air in the hallway and in the nearby rooms seem to electrify all at once, hair standing on end as if the atmosphere itself were tense with anticipation.  Genki's aura, pulsing rapidly but a moment before, slowly quickly until it was almost perfectly still.  The man's weapon disappeared in a glut of shadows that errupted from the hilt and cascaded down towards the floor, and when they finally parted the worn weapon was replaced with a pristine--and somehow even larger--odachi.  As the smoke faded, the ears of all nearby began to fill with the crinkled sounds of static.  Fuzzy, white noise, disappointing static.  The volume grew, subtly, as if someone were slowly turning the volume up on a television, but one could only speculate how long it might it continue to grow.

The PA system faded out as the static began to rise, but it was only a momentary interruption to the much-lauded playlist.  Seal transitioned out, his soulful ballad having finally reached its conclusion.

And the sweet sounds of an acoustic guitar strumming began to echo down the hallways.

"You are...." Genki began to sing at some level resembling a tenor.  "My fiiiire."

"My one, desire..."  It was likely that, if nothing else, all of them could share a moment of universal confusion.

"Believe, when I sayyy...."

He swiveled his head in turn to each of them, waggling his eyebrows encouraging them to sing along with some sort of unspoken language that no one but the insane could possibly come to grips with.

"That I want it that wayyyy...."


//1308


-------

SPOILER: Click to show

Combat!

Incoming:
Lucas--treating this as a hit to the face, inflicting 'Menial' wounds via 40 spirit against 90 defense.  Two Menial wounds means an upgrade to Minor!
Rick--I am "blocking" your attack with 110 Strength and Master weapon.  This is a successful block resulting in no damage to me.
Aidan--As a result of choosing to block Rick, I feel like it makes sense to be hit by your attack from the back with a weak 'dodge'.  This is a hit at Superior, but your Master rank pushes this to to Dominant, which means I get no wound reduction.  90vs90 means this is a Moderate wound to the back, which will do ongoing damage.

Outgoing:
I block Rick's attack successfully, which shatters his glass shrapnel attack down the hall and at both Lucas and Aidan.  Mechanically, whatever you choose to do in response to this attack, I think you should treat my interference with the attack as permission to drop the resulting wound by -1 rank, should you wind up being hit.
For my second action, Genki releases his shikai.  His weapon has changed from a dai katan into an odachi and his Shikai is attached below.

“What would you do if you ran into one of their white-clad Captains?” his father once asked him. At the time, merely fifteen years old, the statement confused Lucas. Shinigami wore all-black.

He asked his father about that, and his father said, “Regular Shinigami wear black. Not the Captains. They wear white overtop of it.”

Lucas never really cared to remember things like that growing up, but the more he watched the Shinigami’s city-destroying power at work—so perfectly handled as to not have leveled the castle already—the more he remembered the conversation. The more he remembered the conversation, the more he felt a cold sweat on his palms that told him, despite this man’s power, he may not be a Captain.

If this doesn’t qualify one of them to be a Captain, what does? the bone-chilling thought wiggled into Lucas’ mind despite all his efforts to keep it out.

Fate offered him little time to question it. Before he knew it, the Shinigami stumbled out of Lucas’ smoke cloud with little more than a singed face and missing eyebrows. Just the like previous blast, it appeared to do negligible damage to that immense body of his. In fact, the Shinigami went right back at it, counter-attacking Rick even as the new Quincy next to Lucas—the strongest of them all—prepared another assault on the man, just as suggested.

That’s when Rick did it. He formed, with astonishing speed and accuracy, a wave of synthesized glass that hurled down the wide corridor they all battled in. Once again, the Shinigami obliterated the danger coming his way with a single swing of his sword that shook even the reinforced hallway they battled in. But he paid little attention to the disrupted shards of glass that shined through the dust-filled air and hurtled towards the other two Quincy behind them both.

“Rick!” Lucas shouted to remind him of the danger he created and stepped to the left, a little closer to his new friend. Then, on reflex, lifted both of his gloved fists despite the painful protestations that radiated out from his injured shoulder—he tore something, he could feel it.

In front of them both appeared a single, large opening in the air. The edges of the circular hole in space glimmered in blue much like the free particles that glowed beneath the glass dome of Lucas’ compass. Within the circle was a mostly black void, wherein swirling maelstroms of gray spiritual energy drew thick lines and pathways through the abyss. The quiet roar of these storms of spiritual energy leaked out in the hallway just as the void swallowed most of the glass Rick created.

Most.

A single jagged shard lodged itself into two of Lucas’ ribs. The Quincy grimaced, groaned, and grit his teeth as he bore the sudden pain. He glanced down at the wound and watched, eyes-wide and adrenaline thick, as red started to repaint his white skin. It leaked down his exposed side and started to stain his belt and pants the way it would have stained his destroyed jacket.

We can’t keep this up! Lucas kept his shouts of agony and frustration private. Instead, he groaned more and slowly lowered his hands. He kept his right hand from immediately going to the wound and aggravating it more. He stood as straight as possible to avoid twisting the muscle further.

If they both kept getting hurt—Rick looked worse for wear and their new friend wouldn’t last long on his own—all their efforts would be for nothing. Whatever the reasons, Lucas’ blasts didn’t pack enough punch, even to the head, to put the Shinigami down. He either needed more raw power, or a greater concentration.

The music that blared through the PA system muffled as the pain turned his hearing into static. The warm blood started to soak through to his leg and run down that as well. He hardly heard it as a Seele Schneider ripped into the Shinigami man’s flesh and straight through his shoulder. The Captain, or whoever he was, hardly looked bothered by the otherwise grievous wound. Like Lucas’ own, it bled profusely.

Unlike Lucas, the Shinigami seemed to enjoy it.

Insane, he thought. He’s not a man.

Blood reached Lucas’ boot and soaked the robes that the Shinigami wore.

Insane, he repeated. Insane, insane, insane.

Then he bore down on Rick yet again, like an unstoppable tank directed to wipe a single man off the face of the planet. Despite the damage that Lucas inflicted, he seemed to lose all interest in the shirtless Quincy he pitched down the hall like an unwanted toy.

“Cover me!” Lucas shouted at the man next to him and pointed at him, too, with his left arm.

He needed a greater concentration of power directed at a vital location, he realized just moments before. Now he figured out how to get it, and where to put it.

Lucas charged down the hall right as the Shinigami descended on Rick yet again. Each slam of his boots against the broken floor forced blood to squirt out from around the glass shard in his ribs. It sent an fiery web of agony through him each time, but he charged forward regardless.

A final stomp sounded when Lucas brought his right foot down. From there, he hurled himself into the air and thanked the ages-old designer of this castle for the lofty ceilings. The single-leg jump propelled Lucas into the air and forward, simultaneously. He twisted about despite the near-screams of pain from his body and pulled back his left leg; the only side of his body uninjured.

Around the boot formed a thick, armor-like coating of dark-blue spiritual particles. They ran half way up Lucas’ leg before they started to fall apart and form a jagged edge, like shattered metal plating.

The formation ended just in time for Lucas to snap his foot forward in a mid-air kick straight for the Shinigami’s temple.

From his angle in the air, a moment before his blow landed or missed, Lucas caught sight of something on the man’s other shoulder. Wrapped with cloth around it was a brown, wooden plate with some sort of icon carved into it.

His father never mentioned Captains wearing anything like that.

*****

1,050 Words

Well, this was a pretty bad spot. Rick wasn’t expecting the Shinigami to deflect his attack in such a fashion that caused pain for his comrades along the other side of the corridor. It was a hard struggle, Rick was trying his hardest to drive away the tones of doubt in his head. He still didn’t know why this man had come here, he just kept singing his old songs that were just as out of touch as his hairstyle. Nevertheless, Rick was out of funny remarks when it came to the ability that the Shinigami had. The only good thing that was coming out of this constant struggle was the fact that they were starting to whittle the man down. It was progress, something that Rick kept on finding himself saying in order to keep his head in the game.

Nevertheless, hearing the man make it sound like he wanted this conflict to be an ongoing thing was a bit aggravating to Rick.

“Oh yeah? Well then, how about you call it quits and set up a proper playdate with me then?”

He couldn’t let the man see him sweat, but the methodical way of the Shinigami pointing his sword to the ground and calling for a change of atmosphere with it made Rick think otherwise. The cycling of static from the sheer energy that was being expelled from the sword was equivalent to that of a small light show, following its metamorphism to become an even bigger sword.

“So, you traded your toothpick for a fancy butter knife, big deal! I’m not backing down, none of us are.”

Rick still had some fight left in him, but the sudden transformation of the Shinigami’s weapon was met with a strange feeling that Rick started to experience. Maybe it was because of the proximity of whatever it was that Genki was doing, but there was a small thought at the back of his head that he stopped thinking about a long time ago. Back when Rick was a bit younger, he was more of a philosophy nutcase. It had to do with hollows and accepting them as they are, merely allowing their existence in a more sickening way.

It didn’t make any sense, though, he had to focus on the fight ahead of him. Seeing that Genki’s giving Rick a lot of his attention, Rick aimed his weapon at the hand that was holding the newly formed blade that was in Genki’s possession, firing at the hand and wrist area with amazing precision. It was a basic shot at best, but it still held Rick’s power. Even if it was to do nothing of the sort in terms of damage, occupying the activity of that hand was the best thing that Rick could think of. If Genki was using it for blocking, he wouldn’t be using it to cleave Rick’s comrade in arms.

On top of that, Aidan was still unaccounted for in Genki’s point of view if Lucas and Rick were taking up most of his attention. Rick was only hoping that it would count, he only hoped that was the case.

WC- 522
Total WC- 2828

What the hell was this man? How could he take such hits without even flinching it was madness… inhuman! Well yes actually it was wasn’t it? The titanic strength and endurance of this Soul Reaper was further proof of the difference between such beings and mortals. He had no real skin to rend, no real blood to spill, his body of Reishi was simply a soul fashioned to look like a living man’s flesh and bone. When considering that was it really so surprising that a Soul that had grown this powerful, this vast was able to withstand so much damage while effortlessly responding in kind. Somewhere deep within his core Aodh’s own Spirit trembled in recognition of the overwhelming pressure exerted by this other being’s mere presence but it pushed it away, the Quincy’s own Soul had grown far beyond its original limits and at times he felt like it pushed the boundaries of what his mortal form could currently handle. Shinigami though? They were bound by no such limitations. They had no physical form to worry about just their sheer Spiritual Presence.

Aodh could be more though…he would be more. It was with this belief that his powers reached out and began to tear the Reishi from the air around him, drawing the strength of this place into his body to be transformed into Reiryoku. An outline of blue light began to gather around the Sternritter as the condensed Spiritual Energy began to give form. For his plan he needed more.

Then Rick attacked, forming glass from thin air he cast it towards their enemy attempting to shred the swordsman to pieces. However once more the Reaper’s almost unfathomable strength came into play as his sword flashed out with blinding speed to smash aside the attack before it could truly manifest itself. Unfortunately for Aodh and his comrade this meant that shattered pieces of that arcane glass was now hurtling towards them.

“Cac.” he cursed under his breath. He was still gathering the Reishi in the air and now he had to waste it to stop this attack, it annoyed him but maybe there was another way? Reaching into his pocket he began to withdraw a Gintō tube when the Yank burst into action. He stepped closed and raised his hands just as the piece of glass came towards them causing an… opening? Tear? Something to form and swallow up the glass whole… almost all of it anyway. A large piece struck the other man’s stomach and Aodh saw the man stagger. The Irishman grimaced but unfortunately there wasn’t time to offer his assistance.

Reishi was still gathering around Aodh, his will commanding it to come closer however he was reaching his limit. The Sanrei glove wrapped around his left forearm felt heavy, it was exhausting to try and take any more energy from his surrounds but he had no choice. He needed more. The Sanrei; was it was limiting him still? Damn Aodh had thought he had mastered it, moved beyond its limitations. He was as strong as he had been before putting it on… right?

‘No.’ the realisation seemed to crawl it’s way into his mind. ‘I’m… stronger. Much stronger even with the limitations inflicted upon me.’ And if that was the fact then he could draw more. Gather more.

He was snapped back to reality as the other Knight yelled at him to provide cover before leaping off. The other man was slow, exceptionally so although Aodh wasn’t sure if this was because of his wounds or a simple fact of the man’s powers. Either way he set off towards the damn Soul Reaper and the Sternritter knew it was folly to stop him.

“Gan chiall” the man muttered as he dropped to one knee. Whatever he planned to do Aodh would have to wait for the right moment to strike. However that strike would need strength, as much strength as he could manage. The Sanrei device seemed to grow hot for a moment and Aodh ground his teeth with the effort before it simply ceased, the slow drag of spirit particles became a flood. A beat crashed through Aodh’s body as if heart had give an impossible thump. Then nothing. Everything was normal except the Reishi was… easier? More pliable? Whatever it was it the terrible heavy sensation that he’d come to associate with the archery glove was gone. Over Aodh’s right shoulder burned a bright blue ball and his entire arm was alight as energy poured along it.

“Right…first thing’s first.” he thought to himself. Pulling out the silver tube he had almost used earlier he uncapped the container, blue liquid sloshing inside and hurled it on the ground allowing some of the Reishi he’d gathered flow down towards the small pool.

“Bathe in the light and accept his protection - Schützen” he hissed. The blue light of the liquid Reiryoku, empowered by the Reishi, began to glow before the light spread along the floor, up the walls and down the roof. For a moment the corridor was covered in a shimmering aqua glow before it faded however a faint shine could be seen along the structure they stood in. Aodh just hoped the warding spell was enough to reinforce the corridor from the continued battle. They couldn’t afford to let up on the Shinigami but nor could they destroy the corridor in the attempt.

Glancing up from his kneeling position Aodh saw the American launch his attack as he threw a kick at the Soul Reaper’s head. He couldn’t imagine a human, even a Quincy, harming such a being with a physical attack but he prayed for it’s success all the same.

Levelling his bow Aodh remained calm and waited to see how Rick would act next. The power he’d gathered felt alive, like it wanted to be used. Like it needed to be spent but he waited. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long. Rick’s gun fired aimed straight at the Soul Reaper’s hand. He seemed to be trying to stop the Reaper from using his weapon.

Smart.

Aodh decided to attack as best he could with the two men in such close melee. Finally letting the Reishi flow into his silver longbow the man breathed deeply as the power was flowing smoothly around him, through him and into the weapon. Drawing back the bow he fired and arrow aimed straight at Genki’s rear leg in an attempt to blow the limb right off and, no matter how the other two men moved, they wouldn’t be endangered by the crossfire from this angle. He loosed one arrow, then another and another and another. It was like Licht Regen but so much narrower in it’s scope, a barrage of arrow’s fired in a narrow stream at a single point. His bow began to glow red hot but the short barrage ended after only moments. Some of the gathered Reishi remained flowing over Aodh’s body but a lot had been put into those numerous Heilig Pfeils but not everything.


-----------------------
WC: 1177
Total WC: 3476

Actions Summary

#1 - Support
Aodh tries to strengthen the corridor by sticking a barrier over the already reinforced walls and roof with Gintō: Kirchengebet:
Gintō - Kirchengebet: Journeyman (200)
Spirit: 90

#2 - Offensive
Aodh attacks Genki with a barrage of arrows, fired along a very narrow beam it's basically a focused lesser Licht Regen although the individual arrows are a little stronger than usual. All aimed at Genki's rear leg at around the knee, gonna try and remove it! :
Spirit Weapon - Master
Spirit - 90

Note
Aodh is now finding it easier to draw Reishi from the air!

"Tell me WHY," He closed his eyes and let his gruff tenor ring up into the rafters.  He wasn't about to win any one of those 'next big thing' competitions all those Simon Cowels were hosting, but what he lacked in talent he made up for in enthusiasm.  Something to be said for that in this day and age.  But regardless of Lieutenant Ogawa's singing lessons, he was feeling like he might finally have enough meat on his plate to really start chowing down on these little Quincy shits.

Their teamwork was finally starting to gel; barking commands to each other, shouting out moments of opportunity and clamoring off of one another's plays for that one shot that could fell this foreign invader.  It was admirable!  They were almost, if you squinted hard enough, functioning like a team or a unit.  But alas, they were still three individuals all competing for the same kill.  Competing for the same favor from a bed-ridden child-queen in some hospital suite upstairs.  Like this, they stood no chance.  At least not a real one.  But in Genki's own estimation, there was no finer substitute than truly earning your objective.  So with the doctors and nurses of the Neonatal unit laying face down and strewn up and down the hallway (as well as probably dead), and the walls and ceiling substantially reinforced by the beefier of the two Quincy, there were really no other souls at risk here.  Just the four of them.

"Ain't nothing but a heeeeeartache," his eyes shot open as he heard the reishi collect in the barrel of the punk kid's shotgun.  No one could deny the little shit was able to pack a punch, but as much as he had that 'youthful vigor' he was devoid of that nasty streak that a man needed to be truly dangerous.  He seemed like a nice guy, and his offer for a playdate seemed, well, genuine if nothing else.  But at what cost?  'Failing' to back down simply would not be enough.

"Tell me WHY," The energy collecting behind him and under his feet and shunting him forward a few short feet; close enough to cause the incoming projectile shaped like Lucas to miss a couple feet below his intended target, and close enough to pivot on his lead foot and slice through the blob of scintillating energy coming out of that shotgun.

"Ain't nothing but a missssstake," the PA system continued to blast the track as the crackle of static gradually climbed towards a crescendo.  Was it coming from the PA?  Was it coming from Genki?  Was it coming from the walls?  And perhaps more importantly, did any of that even matter?  The first time he had heard the amelodic blast deep within his inner world--he could recall it as clearly as if it were yesterday--he was brought to his knees by the grating menace.  He wanted to rip at his own ears after not much more than five minutes, although it might as well have been five hours.  Hell, for all he knew it could have been five hours.  But now it was so much more to him.

It was soothing.  It was reassuring.  The 'noise' had stopped being a noise; tiny little patterns and eddies in the seemingly random jumble of whatever it is that made up static took on their own tone and timbre until it was something more to him.  It was purity, it was focus, it was...

Well, at the risk of sounding cliche...

It was beautiful.

Maddeningly beautiful.

The spiritual shrapnel from sword colliding with slug shot filled the hallway with sparks and sparkles and all other sorts of light effects, but rather than follow through back to the source of the shot, Lieutenant Ogawa swung around, pivoted on his foot, and drug his sword through the chest cavity of the American Quincy.

With hardly a moment to admire his handiwork and heart the satisfying squash as blood splattered onto the reinforced floor and wall, he caught a barrage of arrows in quick succession, so tightly fired and concentrated that they seemed like a near-contiguous beam of holy wrath, directly on his knee and thigh!


//698

Combat!
Incoming:  [1] Kick from Lucas at 40 Strength/Expert, [2] Shot from Lucas at 75 Spirit/Master, [3] Licht Regen from Aodh at 90 Spirit/Master [4] Passive damage from the Seele lodged in Genki's back.
[1] I'm only "kind of" dodging this, in the sense that I am moving away from where I was targetted, but still being hit.  So I am calling this an Equiv-hit with a partial dodge, which is a Minor wound--probably a bruise to the back/shoulder
[2] This is blocked by 110 Strenght and Master Weapon Skill
[3] This hits me at Equivalent, inflicting a Moderate Wound, needling Genki's thigh and knee with arrows and likely hampering his movement
[4] The ongoing damage to my back bumps this up to Major wound as back muscles are further ripped by the embedded Seele.  These suckers are piling up!

Outgoing: [1] Cutting Lucas, [2] Round two of Shikai
[1] Lucas suffers the full fury of a slash across his chest.  110 Strength with Master weapon skill.  This should uh, take care of my Lucas problem.
[2] Round two of my Shikai, the effects "ramp up", as does the compulsion/distraction.  See my above post for description of the power.  Up to you to interpret the effect.

I never had a chance.

When he saw the Shinigami move too far from where he aimed, he realized. When he slammed the bottom of his boot into the back of the man’s shoulder anyway, and felt the muscle barely give way at all, he confirmed it. Whoever this man, Captain or no Captain, he towered so far above Lucas at present that there was nothing he could accomplish directly. Even if his blow landed on the Shinigami’s temple, he would still be standing.

At this rate, he would outlast even all three Quincy at once.

Matters managed to get even worse in the fraction of a second that followed. Yet again, the Shinigami obliterated every blow that Rick sent his way. The shots from his weapon exploded like harmless little fire crackers at a Fourth of July show back home. Meanwhile, the Shinigami’s infernal Zanpakutō looked none the worse for wear despite everything it endured so far.

In that moment while Lucas floated there, he expected the man to charge at Rick and try to finish off the bigger threat first. He expected that he would take this moment to drop to the floor and retreat from the man before he regretted this charge even more than he already had.

Instead, with speed and ease that Lucas failed to fully comprehend, the Shinigami pivoted about. With him followed the flash of steel from his sword and Lucas instinctively raised both of his arms in a cross over his chest to protect himself when the single, silver fang rose to meet him.

Maybe Dad was right all along.

Lucas barely felt anything, when it happened. Like a hot knife through butter, the sword cut right through the cross of his bare arms. He watched his arms flip through the air in front of him, in slow-motion. The first inch of the blade still found purchase in Lucas’ chest, as intended by its unstoppable owner, and carved a canyon through his pectorals. A moment later and Lucas’ vision looked like nothing but triplet, crimson fountains. His fair skin quickly got painted in that very same red, as if the blade had been a brush instead.

The moment the sword exited through the other side of Lucas’ chest, he felt the force hit him. The sheer power behind the swing, however insignificantly blunted as it was by Lucas’ arms, hurled him backwards. He whistled through the air and in less than a second crashed through the spiritual reinforcement of the walls. He listened to the particles and plates of magical matter shatter like glass, and felt his back impact the already cracked stone of the castle.

Another cloud of grey dust exploded from the wall and shook the entire structure they were in. At first, it swallowed Lucas whole before it cleared out to reveal him. He remained stuck in the wall, just below the ceiling, planted like a sapling and helpless to move from his new home. Blood poured down his chest and soaked his stomach and the front of his blue pants. His arms squirted and spewed even more that ran done the wall and started to form a wide, thick puddle beneath him. The impact even drew cuts all over his scalp, which matted his hair and covered half of his face in even more. Some dripped from the tip of his nose and his hung head onto the floor.

Beneath Lucas, cowering in a corner, were the two—maybe three, Lucas failed to remember—nurses that the Shinigami initially frightened. Through the thin slits of vision he still had, he caught sight of their bloodied bodies and coats; crushed by the rock he broke free when he smashed through the reinforcements his new allies created.

---

White overtook Lucas’ vision. He blinked three times before he realized that he stood on his feet now. When he looked down his body, he saw his jacket and arms in one piece. It took another minute for the other half of that realization to sink in: He lost his arms just a minute ago. He remembered that, along with the numbness that followed.

Those were gone forever. Unlike a Hollow, his body would never regenerate his limbs no matter how much time passed.

“You should have listened to me, Lucas,” the voice of his father interrupted his confusion and grief. He looked back up to see the man standing there wearing a white shirt, and grey slacks with old blood stains on them. Around them both was nothing but white.

Normally, Lucas would raise his voice in passionate defiance to his father’s latest brand of pessimism. He couldn’t manage it right now, like an outside force laid an anvil on his chest. It crushed every bit of air from his lungs and all the strength from his heart.

“You should have stayed home,” his father’s voice got less gruff. “Now look at you. Your arms are gone. All for what? A little girl who plays Queen but seems like she would rather be a stay at home mother?”
Lucas never even raised his head.
“You could be safe. You could still have your house,” his father pressed the issue and his voice wavered.
Lucas still did nothing.
“You could have had your own family,” his voice finally broke. “You were so excited to do that, growing up. You said you would buy a home of your own in Philadelphia with me, settle down with some pretty woman, and have children of your own. They could have been the Quincy for you to unite—but you chose strangers.”
Tears ran down either side of his father’s rough, somewhat wrinkled cheeks.
“Now you can’t raise that family. I told you this would happen. It can’t be done and the Shinigami can’t be beaten—it was a fantasy, and look what believing in it did to me and your grandfather.”
Lucas finally looked at his father again.
“Please. Stop this and come home before I lose you like that, too.”

Lucas moved both of his hands. He clenched them into tight fists until his knuckles turned white, then released them. He repeated that three times while he looked at his father. He still felt them, for some strange reason.

“You thanked me,” Lucas finally answered. He pointed right at his father. “At the airport, when I was leaving. You thanked me for doing this, for insisting, for defying you and doing what I thought was right.”
Edward stayed silent this time.
“Why?” Lucas insisted on an answer.
“It was a mistake, one that cost me my son.”
“I’m still here.”
“You’re a cripple.”
“Better a cripple than a coward. Even Grandpa knew that.”
Edward’s eyes widened, darkened. He clenched his fists and kept them that way.
“You lost Grandpa and let that fear eat you alive, Dad. And when you saw that I wasn’t going down with you, you finally looked like the man you were before you got that fucking phone call.”
They both remembered that day, and Edward’s eyes got darker and angrier yet.
“But I did fall for it.”
That stopped Edward in his tracks. He furrowed his brow at his son in confusion.
“I still listened to you. I didn’t kill a single Shinigami, not Amou, not that woman, not Shigure. I beat them all and let them live, precisely so this didn’t happen—and it did anyway.”
Lucas marched forward, right up to his father, and pushed his index finger into his chest.
“I listened to your fear, not you. You aren’t my Dad. My Dad is a superhero. You…you’re the thing that took him away that day. You took my Dad away.”

Suddenly, Lucas’ hands reached out and grabbed his father around his neck. His fingers bit into it like the teeth of a snake and squirts of blood shot from the broken skin. He lifted the broader, bulkier man off of his feet with nothing but sheer strength.

“Now I’m taking him back,” Lucas growled at the man in his grip. He watched Edward reach up and grab him by the wrists, try to pry his grip away, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t make Lucas budge, so Lucas growled again through grit teeth, “Fuck. You.”
Edward grunted in effort, tried to pry at the elbows; none of it worked.
“I’m going to kill them,” Lucas explained to the trapped thing in his grip—it certainly was not his father. “Let come hell or high water, just like you always said. I’ll die like Grandpa before I ever let you put me on my knees next to my father.”
Edward croaked and groaned something in response. Spit flew from his mouth and drool oozed out over his lower lip.
“And I’m going to pick him up,” Lucas went on. His hand dug in deeper, broke through even more skin. He felt his fingers get wet with blood. “And I’m going to drag him, kicking and screaming, away from you. Forever.”

Lucas’ hands vanished in front of him. Now he looked at the clean-cut stubs that the Shinigami man reduced him to. His jacket was gone too, replaced by the bare and blood-covered chest he actually had.

“You can’t do it,” the fake gurgled out words, like he was still getting choked even though Lucas’ hands were gone. Somehow, Lucas still felt them.

“You can’t do it,” Lucas growled right back. Just as he did, gauntlets began to appear. Bright and blue, they formed like old, medieval, European-style armor. They crawled in less than a second all the way up his arms, complete and strong. Then, the light started to fade away. The blue vanished, replaced by silver; and instead of gauntlets of raw spiritual particles, Lucas wore steel.

“You couldn’t do this, either; but I can. That’s the job of the son.

“To live better than his father.”

One more time Lucas tightened his grip. The hard and unyielding spiritual gauntlets split the skin open with ease and blood spurted out in all directions. The forgery in his hands tried to scream, and it kicked and trashed about, but Lucas never so much as swayed.

“And I swear, on the pride of the Quincy…”

Slowly, the body in his hands started to go limp. His large, heavy arms fell to his sides and his bearded head lolled forward while his eyes rolled back into his head. Then, like paper peeled away by fire, the skin on Edward’s head started to flutter upwards into the white void.

Now, in his grip, was Lucas himself.

“I will…!”

---

“…I will kill you!!”

His voice roared out from the crater he put in the stone wall. Chunks of rock and dust bust forward and outward. They created concentric circles against the wall, with Lucas in the center of the third and smallest.

Metal screeched against stone as a metal gauntlet grabbed the edge of the crater. The fingertips bit into it and cracked the stone further. Around Lucas, countless little strings started to form and layered themselves invisible over his body and the steel gauntlets that ran all the way up to his shoulders and replaced his lost arms.

Ransōtengai.

The gash across his chest stopped bleeding. Within his gauntlets, so had the ends of his arms. Lucas pushed himself up and forced the bottoms of his boots into the crater he laid in just a moment ago. His grip on the wall held him steady and his brown eyes, now burning blue, glared straight down at the Shinigami on the other end of the hall.

Stone cracked further when Lucas vanished from his place. He kicked off from the wall with all the power he had and left glittering, blue particles in his wake. When he reappeared, he hovered just behind and above the Shinigami man, both of his gauntlet arms drawn back. His bloodied mouth showed equally stained, grit teeth.

The first punched launched with the sound of a cannon. The entire gauntlet fired forward like a missile; but in its place was already another, one that looked as solid and metallic as the last. Then Lucas fired off another ranged punch with his left. Then his right. Then his left again.

That first one turned into a flurry that could rival a machine gun. Each one aimed at or around the Shinigami. Those that hit the floor or a wall left a fist’s imprint in the stone. The force of the repeated blows that echoed through the hall and the castle alike slowed Lucas’ fall back to the marble floor to a crawl. The entire time, Lucas screamed at the top of his lungs.

Lucas’ boots finally hit the floor again anyway. His chest screamed in silent protest. In front of him hung a thick cloud of gray dust, but he had a general idea where the man stood. He felt him more clearly now than anything spiritual ever in his life before.

What was it that Dad told me about Shinigami? Lucas remembered as that single second got dragged into an eternity. That Shinigami share their names for their opponents?

He smiled.

“My name’s Lucas Lightner, and my family taught me this.”

He brought back both of his hands and took two steps forward. Just as he did, he brought both of his gauntlet fists forward at once in a single punch, side-by-side, aimed straight for the Shinigami’s chest. The force of the punch alone cleared every bit of dust and smoke from the air, save the sound of Lucas’ final shout:

“Hand of God.”

*****

2,269 Words
5,355 Total Words

Teamwork was one thing, but watching that sense of teamwork slowly fail was even more infuriating that Rick could possibly imagine. He recognized that the Shinigami was strong, he also recognized that their united efforts were going to whittle him down. However, Rick was still free from answers. He didn’t know what the Shinigami’s objective was, or even why he was here. It was just a matter of time before someone on his side got seriously hurt, and Rick didn’t know how to deal with that. He could worry less about himself, but as great of a leader and motivator that Lucas was, he was even weaker than the rest of them. Rick knew that Lucas was a tough guy, but he still worried about him.

The static continued, hindering Rick’s ability to hold his mouth shut about important matters. Well, maybe it wasn’t important to others, but it was important to him at least. Though, before he could even say anything, the Shinigami went ahead and used his pointy stick to skewer Rick’s friend. “Lucas, no!” And just like that, Lucas was within the contents of the damn wall, along with considerable damage being done to him. Rick wanted to go help his friend, but that wasn’t important right now. For some reason, he felt like he needed to get this off his chest.

“I desired to show that I was right, that hollows were beyond salvation. I was even willing to let one grow up a bit and cause a little trouble, just to say that I was right all along and kill it myself. When I picked up the rumors around the former king’s possible relationship regarding a hollow in any kind of positive way, I felt pity. Which is why I refuse any hollow that thinks it’s good, and I’m more willing to accept an existing evil, just for the sake of keeping the ball rolling. “

That’s was Rick’s true feelings. Of course, he would be the first one to kill a hollow if he had the chance to. Though, would he be above letting it live and cause a rampage in order to continue instilling fear and distrust against hollow breeds? No, if there was a way to use that to manipulate the public opinion of sympathizers and other spiritually aware humans that thought they could be reasoned with, Rick would take it in a heartbeat.

Nevertheless, that was something that could be frowned upon, willing to go that far to keep things the way that they were for the sake of not allowing that shame that Weylin carried over with his actions to bear upon the rest of the Quincy. He was a natural Zealot for his kind, but was this too much? Either direction, Rick had to find his room over to Frey’s room, taking off into a mad dash as soon as he noted the increased spike in Lucas’s energy. Rick was a bit envious that these two Quincy were blessed with such talents and endowments, but thankful nevertheless that they were on his side. While putting his trust in Lucas, Rick tended to the Queen.

"Frey! We've got to go. Preferably right now! "

That was the first thing that Rick said as soon as he walked in, but Frey was out cold apparently. There was no way that she was in a fighting condition, let alone in operating shape. After quickly giving way through her clothes on the side, Rick realized that Frey didn’t have her vigilance device on her. This makes things a bit more complicated. There was a look of desperation on his face, as well as worry. This was the way out, and he couldn’t risk making a trip to the babies and leaving Frey defenseless while the fight took this turn. Rick sensed another individual earlier, hopefully, he took the kids and left. Only if that didn’t happen, Rick would have to figure something out.  Bringing out his own Vigilance device, Rick decided to place it in Frey's care to keep her safe. 


“Team Two Leader, Rick Rogers. “ After bringing it over to his eye, Rick did a small retina scan in order to continue with his request. After laying out the coordinates for another hospital in Berlin, Rick would toss the device in the infirmary bed, watching it disappear along with Frey in a gray light.

Alright, Uncle Rick’s coming for you, sit tight kiddos. “

After exiting the room, the assault Lucas was just about over, leaving Rick with the hopes that he did a number on the shinigami captain.

“Did he win?!”

WC- 767
Total WC - 3595