[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed]

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Mako Fujita

Second Squad, Unseated

219 Posts

Reiatsu100 Defense30 Strength10 Speed20 Spirit40 Applicationa king ruled by fear, Threadsrules only an empty castle.

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] May 31, 2017 11:27:11 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on May 31, 2017 11:27:11 GMT -5

WARNING: Mention of suicide, depression, murder, sexual and physical abuse, as well as other adult themes.
Pain.

All the young boy could feel was the pain that thrummed through his body like some twisted, sadistic electrical current, but then, that was nothing new really.

Mako was currently laying on the muddy ground off the path from the edge of town (if one could call the center of the slums really a 'town'). He wasn't sure how much damage he'd taken this time, but he was relatively certain that several bones were at least fractured- he could taste blood, but it felt like he still had all his teeth at least. Usually, his father didn't strike his face out of fear that someone that wasn't a small boy would notice and come after him in anger. However, this time he'd been stupid enough to actually say something back at the man as he kicked him .. it had been a painful mistake, and one he should have known better than do. Sadly, even with all the emotional control, he had managed to obtain, life wasn't always so kind. On one hand, having met Reiko, Yuuta, and the others- had been a .. positive thing, as far as he could tell. He didn't feel .. as, bad at the very least. He no longer wanted to kill himself constantly, he no longer stood at the edge of the cliff- staring down into the abyss and measuring how far he'd have to fall to end himself quickly.

But the other side of it was that he could tell his emotional control that he had used for so long, was slipped here and there. Talking back to his father was proof- he was certain that he felt blood trickling down the back of his legs, and his stomach felt like it was a mess of cramps from the abuse .. of both types. Thinking about it made him slowly curl into a ball, but he couldn't cry, even as his fingers dug into the flesh of his scalp .. crying would just make it worse. He should never have talked back, he knew better. He needed to at least tend to the cuts and bleeding, but he couldn't find it in himself to force himself up, his legs felt like jello. His father had just tossed him out once he was done, face first into the mud and told him to come back when he was done being a "useless rat", of course, he said it every time- and it never changed. He was weak, he was powerless, useless, unable to even fight back against his father, or anyone for that matter. His grip on his skin tightened as his eyes faltered, but still, no tears came- only him spitting blood from his mouth to the side as he struggled to try and calm his muscles enough to at least get up out of the mud.

He was in pain, but more than that .. he was tired. Emotionally, mentally, physically .. he had thought, like a fool, perhaps he was getting better. Perhaps his life was getting a bit better thanks to his new acquaintances- but it wasn't. It had just made his life worse, something that was so fitting it made him want to hurl. Happiness, hope, love, none of it really existed- and yet, no matter how much he thought that he couldn't force them to leave him alone. He was too weak to even tell them "no" or to leave him alone and let him suffer in silence until he died- or ended himself. It was frustrating. But he couldn't help it, he was weak, but even more than that .. he was a coward. He was scared. So scared he couldn't even manage to tell his "friends" what was going on out of fear his father would target them too. So scared he couldn't talk back, couldn't fight back- not against his father, nor anyone else that decided they wanted to pick on the weak and beat the hell out of him on a whim.

There was no redeeming feature about the boy, caked in mud, grease, and blood- injured in multiple locations, dressed in rags, he could only stare at the nearby roots of a tree and hold himself- waiting for the pain to fade away from him enough to at least move. Hopefully, he wouldn't get sick from this, but it would probably be his luck.

Tags: Zâbel Kohara
Post Words: 725
Total Words: 725
Total GP so Far: 14

Last Edit: Jun 14, 2017 18:34:25 GMT -5 by Mako Fujita

Zâbel Kohara

Fourth Division Research Officer

104 Posts

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] May 31, 2017 13:11:10 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on May 31, 2017 13:11:10 GMT -5

The woman passed barefooted through the dirt pathways of the warren of hovels in which the souls were housed. Her gate was leisurely as though she were simply taking a constitutional in the midday sun, and yet an air of weight was upon her soul. Long charcoal colored hair was secured at the back of her crown, save for the locks that were free from the restraining embrace of a kerchief allowing them to frame the outline of her oval face; a face that was weary with head bowed as she paced along the street. Pausing in the dusty road as he neared the edge of town, her hakuma rustling about her legs before falling still, she raised her hand to brush the hair from her face and raised her eyes to the sky. Her other hand slipped from its perch upon the utility belt hanging snug upon her hips to press into the small of her back. Zâbel Kohara, long time visitor and former resident of the Rukongai outer districts, was every bit as weary as her frail form appeared.

Distant and detached from her fellow Shinigami, now more than ever, there was still that about her that could not release these lands or its people from her mind. She had observed others over the centuries who had escaped this wretched existence and been admitted into the affluence of The Court of Pure Souls without ever looking back once. While true the duties of a Shinigami were immense, and focusing upon the so called bigger picture of preserving the balance was paramount to the existence of them all. It was only logical to prioritize one's resources toward critical ventures first. Even so, she couldn't help but feel that this phase of the cycle didn't have to be so full of suffering nor consigned to that of a sacrifice zone. It was the weight, however, of the insurmountable chore that leadened her steps and furrowed her brow.

Feeling the futility of her efforts, perhaps a bit more today than on any other, she gave a sigh letting her thin arms fall to her side as she gnawed at the corner of her lower lip in thought. She had just come from the hovel of a woman who she had tended through the night afflicted with some unidentified sickness of the soul. For all her skill in Kaido she had been unable to do anything for her but keep her company to the end and watch her fade away. Tagging the soul as usual for the purposes of her peculiar research, she had a read on the woman's unique signature. Perhaps one day she might detect her return and further advance her studies...

Her eyes caught the shape of a body lying along the road in the distance, the vision interrupting her thoughts and drawing her attention. Her hand came to her face even as she shook her head while muttering darkly, "It never stops." Yes, she could very well understand why most Shinigami wrote this place off and focused on doing something they could actually succeed upon. Moving forward, she drew upon her reserves to check out the scene as she always had, as she always would. Her thought carried her forward and pushed her to action, "This matters, can't they see? This one soul matters."

Once she was near enough she could make out the shape of the impoverished youth, no surprise there, however he was not dead as she expected though from the looks of things he might well wish he were. Utter filth cloaked his form, the obvious signs of injury indicating her had probably been set upon by one of the gangs roaming the district. Stooping at his side, between he and a lone tree, she spoke softly, "You there, boy. Do not be afraid. I am here to help." Uttering those simple words, certainly not for the first time in her centuries within the Soul Society, the woman always felt them to be pointless. Of course there would be fear, suspicion, certainly once she started to use her Kaido and reveal that she was Shinigami. But it was better than asking if he was alright. Even the healthy in the outer districts were not alright. People sometimes spoke of a heaven that would be their reward after dying in the land of the living, little did they know of the hell that awaited them all.

Letting her shins plant upon the ground, sitting in seiza, she reached for a flask of water to wet a swath of cloth from her utility belt. Capping the flask once more, she set it against her thigh and moved to press the wet cloth to his mouth. “This will be cold and might sting a bit”, she cautioned her patient. He was beaten nearly to death and she didn't even know if he might not be aware of her presence at all let alone be able to speak. The world was full of monsters and not just of the Hollow origins; she would not be just another soul reaper who ignored those outside their very own gates.

Word Count: 858

=== #c0817c === | === #e65219 === | === #1995e6 ===
=== Speaking === | === Thinking ===| === Zanpakutō ===

Mako Fujita

Second Squad, Unseated

219 Posts

Reiatsu100 Defense30 Strength10 Speed20 Spirit40 Applicationa king ruled by fear, Threadsrules only an empty castle.

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] May 31, 2017 13:45:26 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on May 31, 2017 13:45:26 GMT -5

His vision was starting to blur. How damn troublesome .. had he lost more blood than usual ..? Or was the damage just that much worse? Usually his he didn't suffer head injuries, but this time his father had struck his head several times, so he supposed it was possible. These surface thoughts fluttered through his mind, his vision blurring and starting to spin into itself as he was forced to close his eyes in the hopes the spell of dizziness would begin to fade. For now, he focused entirely on breathing- just keep breathing, keep himself conscious- if he passed out here it would only be that much worse later, he knew that much already without a doubt. With that thought in mind he forced himself to focus on that single thought: stay conscious. Thanks to that, he was able to at least hold on to the dim light that was left in his eyes, holding himself to minimize the pain as much as possible as he waited for the jolts of pain coursing through his body to cease. After a few minutes, he was able to slowly open his eyes- staring once more at the tree roots, unable to move but at least capable of retaining his consciousness now.

It was then that he felt it, distantly- the only thing he was good at .. he could smell it, feel it, the shift in energy- someone was coming toward him. They felt strong, but he couldn't really tell or focus too well, everyone felt strong to him really- especially right now. He could only pray that whoever it was would simply walk by assuming he was dead- if he was unlucky .. he wasn't sure he even had it in him to try and get up and run. But he couldn't let them touch him. He didn't want to be touched. Not again. No so soon after what his father had done to him- he couldn't, not again. Not again. The words repeated in his head, over and over as his grip on his skull tightened- and then he felt the energy approach him, and he felt the panic grip his chest. Talons like cold steel dug into his chest, wrapping around his heart, around his lungs- he struggled to breathe. His pulse rose, and he knew this sensation- when his fear controlled him when he was unable to do anything in the face of something stronger than him. There was no room to fight back, no possibility to do anything: but suffer in silence.

She spoke- the fact it was a female helped, just slightly, but it didn't help too much. He heard the effeminate voice, and he felt his body lock up in terror- not again. He didn't want to do anything again. He didn't want to be touched, he didn't want to feel someone close, their body heat, the whip, the nails, the teeth. Despite himself, a weak whimper of terror filled his chest- usually, he had more time, more time to recover before it happened again- his defenses were already crumbling, however. His weakness showing even more than it normally did, he couldn't hear what she was saying- only something about helping. Help? No one helped, they only said they did, then as soon as it was more beneficial they hurt him. There was no such thing as help in this world, it wasn't so kind as to offer something like that. He heard something unclasp- at least there was going to be some form of lubrication besides his blood .. but he didn't want it. No more. He hurt, he didn't want it anymore. His brain rapidly deteriorating so far even though she was clearly female, that she clearly meant no ill will- was entirely lost on the young boy whose nails were nearly clawing into his own skin as she came closer.

She was kneeling beside him now. Sting? Cold? No, please no- not again. The thoughts wouldn't stop, the terror clutched at his chest. When he was going to be touched, he had two reactions .. aggression, or terror. He already knew which this was- she was too strong, he could feel it. There would be no aggression, only whimpering, pathetic weakness and terror as she did whatever she wished with him. Then he felt it, something wet, and cold pushed to his lips- and he felt every muscle in his body lock into place, his eyes shooting open as wide as they could, pupils shrinking. Terror etched into his eyes, despite the fact his face remained as blank as possible- his eyes staring at the hand in front of him, and he could only shiver in place, in fear. What was she doing? What did she want with him? his brain rushed to a conclusion, then another after that, more and more pouring through his mind- each one worse than the last. He didn't know what do to, how to react, there was no pain- not yet, but he knew it was coming. Should he relax, and simply let it happen? Should he try to force himself up despite how badly injured he was?

He didn't know. His head hurt. Everything hurt, why couldn't he just be left alone? A dead body on the road- just another corpse. Stiffly, his eyes flashed toward her, his fear more apparent by the moment, but he didn't resist, nor did he try to run. Fear wouldn't allow his body to move- like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, yet this wolf had no ill will- he simply couldn't accept such an abnormality in this world.

Tags: Zâbel Kohara
Post Words: 936
Total Words: 1,661
Total GP so Far: 33

Last Edit: May 31, 2017 15:21:20 GMT -5 by Mako Fujita

Zâbel Kohara

Fourth Division Research Officer

104 Posts

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] May 31, 2017 15:14:23 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on May 31, 2017 15:14:23 GMT -5

Complete and utter terror, how many times had she seen this same thing in the victims she had treated? There was little she could do to assuage the psychological wounds of her patients. That particular journey of the soul had to be traveled upon their own and she had yet to meet the Kaidō Master with a spell that could undo the scars such violence left behind. Truth be told, she hadn't really looked for that could be potentially more revealing of herself than she cared to share.

Her eyes quickly scanned the youth's face noting the tension in his muscles, the fixation of the pupils, the rapid palpitations of his pulse visible at the artery in his neck. Her first concern was with the here and now, not the future quality of life he may go on to obtain, if ever he lived through today.The danger of shock was real and if that occurred his systems could start shutting down one after another. If he didn't succumb to such a state through terror alone, then surely the loss of blood would send him there.

Drawing upon her Reiryoku, she removed her hand away from his mouth and laid the wet cloth upon her thigh. Letting the energy flow through her body, the characteristic green halo bathing her hands, she reached to lay her palms over his head and begin her healing. Feeling certain that at her level of expertise the Soushuji would be more than ample to treat his wounds and save his life. This wasn't like trying to cure a mysterious disease that countered her at every turn. She could deal with injuries, having set her hands to many such cases in the Rukongai before today. The difficulty would be in that she wasn't working from a fully rested state but one in which she had already expended a considerable amount of energy.It couldn't be helped and she resolved to do what she could.

As she teased at his own Reiryoku in order to restore it to health, she immediately became aware of its weight. She blinked and cast her eyes to his face for but a second before focusing back upon his head injury. Had she not been intimately engaged with his Reiryoku she would have missed it completely. Indeed her perceptions were one of her weak points, but it was more than just her mastery at work. This youth's signature was overly discreet. "No", she internally corrected her observation, "not discreet but timid, terrified of being detected?" Her inquisitive nature was piqued as she went about trying to coax a response. Time was of the essence but if she forced her own weight upon him like a sledge hammer, rather than with a delicate and subtle nudge, she could very well cause quite the opposite effect within the lad.

With a gentle touch, therefore, she wove her energy about his. Mending its wounds and strengthening his Reiryoku to the point that she could then focus upon using it to stimulate his body toward fixing his wounds. The blood flow was minimal now, having been caked upon him and mixed with the dirt of the road into a macabre mud, she still focused upon stemming any wounds that yet may be bleeding. Her next concern would be to keep his blood flow steady throughout his body while coaxing his wounds to close. Eventually she would move her hands from his head and seeking out other injuries to heal. Her focus had been his head, as the most critical need, but now she would seek for those of a secondary nature and location. Hopefully she would find no internal injuries and not grow too fatigued before her work was done.

All the while she grew steadily frustrated by the lack of focus here in the Rukongai. How long had this boy gone unnoticed? Wasn't it only logical that if they were so short handed, the usual excuse for when she ever was forward enough to broach the topic of additional missions within the district, that a major concern would be seeking out new recruits to maximize their numbers?

Word Count: 692 + 858 = 1550

=== #c0817c === | === #e65219 === | === #1995e6 ===
=== Speaking === | === Thinking ===| === Zanpakutō ===

Mako Fujita

Second Squad, Unseated

219 Posts

Reiatsu100 Defense30 Strength10 Speed20 Spirit40 Applicationa king ruled by fear, Threadsrules only an empty castle.

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] May 31, 2017 15:46:08 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on May 31, 2017 15:46:08 GMT -5

He braced his muscles, feeling her energy increase- terror, he couldn't help it. The sensation of being preyed upon, of being turned into the plaything for another- it was all he knew. Gripping his head tighter, he braced himself as he prepared for the sensation of pain that was to come- she was beside him now, hands trailing over his face as she tried to tend to him. It didn't feel like being tended to, however, it felt like he was being examined, prepared for what he knew was to come. His reiatsu dropped even lower, like a ghost- to the point the only reason she could likely sense him was due to the fact she was making contact with him- and the fact that for all his natural talent and instinct based skill in hiding and sensing spiritual pressure: he was still formally untrained. This allowing her to sense the reiatsu inside of him, and the sensation was extended even further- when a brilliant green light enveloped her hands- his pupils shrank to mere slits within the dull, dirty grey irises of his eyes. He almost wanted to laugh- a shinigami. One of those useless, upstart, self-important fucks were actually here- and they just had to fucking find him, didn't they?

It was the most fucked up thing he'd had happen to him in quite a while. It left a bitter taste in his mouth as he braced for the pain the magic was sure to bring- however, instead, to his utter confusion- there was no pain. In fact, it brought relief, though the sensation of her energy wrapping around his own was .. different, borderline violating, really- but not as bad as actually being touched. Nevertheless- it brought with it, a sense of ease, his muscles beginning to slowly relax, his pulse calming as the damage to his head began to ease. The most severe damage being the broken ribs, concussion, and internal damage to his digestive system- thankfully, she would mend the head trauma first, and it allowed him to calm. Part of his panic being his inability to even speak or move, with that out of the way- he was at least able to slowly remove his fingernails from his scalp- having let visible claw marks on his skin, though he didn't seem to notice. It was just more scar's, more pain, he was used to it by now.

Instead, Mako's vision would slowly re-focus as he was capable of processing his current situation: for some reason, a shinigami was healing his wounds, she had not tried to strike, or violate him just yet. For now, he appeared to be safe .. but there was no such thing, the idea of being "safe" didn't exist. Especially when it came to the shinigami, who preached such honorable and great things- but in the end helped no one but themselves. So she was doing this for some selfish reason, what could he possibly offer a shinigami? Slowly, he pushed a hand down- and with visible struggle, he would haul himself to a sitting position- should she try and help him, he would immediately shy away from her touch, obviously immensely uncomfortable, if not downright hostile, at the notion of skin contact. Instead, he would sit quietly- and for his part, allow her to heal him as much as she wished, not thanking her- nor threatening her, he remained completely expressionless, eyes hollow as he stared at the ground and tried to think what she may wish from him that she'd bother saving him.

He was weak and worthless- so it wasn't any ability he may have. All he was good for was hiding and knowing when to run .. and even then, it only worked when he had the guts to even do that much. So what would it be? Information? He didn't have much of that- the more he cut through the reasons the more he realized he had nothing truly to offer the woman, so what was she doing this for?

Then a grim realization came to his mind, and a sick, twisted smirk formed on his lips. His dad liked little boys apparently, he supposed it shouldn't be such a surprise that others did as well- with a sinking feeling in his stomach, thinking he had come to the "reason" she was healing him, he would simply silently stare at the ground in front of him as he waited for her to finish. Once she was done, he would simply raise a hand to the rags he called clothing and would speak in the same monotone, dead voice, "At least make it quick please .. I can take off the clothing first .. or bathe, or it can be as I am now .. I don't care," his tone beyond defeated, it was neutral- as if this was just normal. It was all he had to offer anyone anyway after all- if he ever had something nice done to him, its because they wanted something else from him. More likely people just wanted to make him suffer anyway and took what they wanted without even doing something "nice" first. He supposed he should count himself lucky she at least healed him before she wanted to drag him to a bedroom- then again a bedroom would be lucky too.

Usually, it was an alley or even just the ground. He felt the lump in his throat grow .. he was so tired of this .. but then, this was his lot in life- it wasn't like he was good for anything else.

Tags: Zâbel Kohara
Post Words: 928
Total Words: 2589
Total GP so Far: 51

Zâbel Kohara

Fourth Division Research Officer

104 Posts

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] May 31, 2017 20:04:52 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on May 31, 2017 20:04:52 GMT -5

Oh but she was so tired of healing these same wounds over and over again. Bruises received from pummeling hands. Broken ribs acquired through numerous attacks. She had healed kicks and bludgeonings, stabbings, burns, strangulations, impalements, bite marks and infections, set bones and mended puncture wounds just as often watching as the failed healing came too little and too late ended in death. The abuse and depredations not being individual attacks but tending the same patients over and over again until they eventually came round no more, death by life in the Rukongai. There was no growth in that sort of existence, these scars always accumulated and were revealed again after resurrection hindering this new iteration within the cycle. The balance, she had to scoff. Where was the balance in that? There must be a better way than simply maintaining numbers in some data column.

Her current patient's wound told the story of his horrific life all too well to the practiced medic in her. Although she had been spared such an existence before Kenji adopted her, it was all too common and could just as easily have been her fate. Fortunately her skills had been to valuable to the gang leader and she was never used as an object to sate the rage and lusts of those in the warrens. To her the way the souls fed upon each other in the outer districts was just as devastating as the way Hollows in Hueco Mundo fed upon each other.

Pleased, however that she was able to alleviate his suffering, if even only for a moment, she focused her energies toward the repair of his ribs and those internal injuries that made her wish she knew who was to blame. Releasing her hold upon her Reiryoku at last, she lowered her hands to the tops of her thighs and stayed still as he pushed himself up to a seated posture. Her first inclination was to reach out and steady him, but at just the merest twitch of her hands rising he seemed to flinch and shy away. It was criminal that anyone was reduced to such an animalistic existence to the point they could not distinguish between aid and an attack any longer.

Despite her compassionate nature she was also very much a realist. She knew that with the billions of souls in existence there was just no way to ensure each and everyone of them had a peaceful and prosperous phase within any portion of the cycle, let alone here this one. Utopia was a myth, beautiful but impossible to achieve. However, the inability to completely eradicate a disease didn't mean you stopped treating the patients. Were not all those souls that didn't live long enough through the 'afterlife' to be spun out once again into a living body also contributing to the balance? Certainly it was not thrown out of kilter at only one point of the wheel. Why then did the Gotei deploy enmass to kill off the Quincy during the culling and yet give no mind to this portion of the equation?

The intel, that from time-to-time harvesting of souls here had occurred to keep things in check, was far above her security clearance. Though if she had focused upon those old nightmare tales that sprang up about disappearances it was doubtful she would have put two and two together. For while she could see that there were some aspects where the Gotei were single minded in their approach to their duties, in no way had she ever entertained the notion that there were factions behind those great white walls that were corrupt and running their own manipulations for their own twisted goals. Despite her ancient existence and awareness of the horrors in the world, there were many ways in which the woman was still quite naive.

When at last the youth spoke to her, she sighed resigned to the damage that had been done to this poor soul being beyond her abilities to heal. Gathering what energy yet remained to her after this exhausting and endless day, she nodded her head and smiled a bit sorrowfully. "Child, I want nothing from you. You should leave this land though and those who bring you harm", her words were resigned and she felt he would not take her advice. Rising to her feet she backed away from him and pointed toward where Seireitei lay out of view. "Head inwards and away from this lawless land. Never look back."

Word Count: 751 + 1550 = 2301

=== #c0817c === | === #e65219 === | === #1995e6 ===
=== Speaking === | === Thinking ===| === Zanpakutō ===

Mako Fujita

Second Squad, Unseated

219 Posts

Reiatsu100 Defense30 Strength10 Speed20 Spirit40 Applicationa king ruled by fear, Threadsrules only an empty castle.

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 1, 2017 11:02:13 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 1, 2017 11:02:13 GMT -5

Mako stared quietly in confusion as the woman waved off his offering, obviously having not been prepared for such an answer- and instead, letting his body slowly slump down a bit as his brow furrowed. What on earth did she want from him then? That line of thought was quickly answered, and her words made his lips curl downward in downright distaste. He would have preferred to be beaten, really. She wanted him to become one of them? A shinigami? The idea was laughable- the Shinigami were strong, organized, willful- even if he hated them, he knew that much. All things he was not. He hated them because he knew he could not be like them, they preached that they were the protectors oft he "balance" and that the Rukongai was "Their Jurisdiction", but Mako wasn't so foolish as to think that the bastards actually gave two fucks about them. All they were to the shinigami, were cattle- cattle that eventually gave birth to a calf that could become a minotaur instead of another cow or bull. They were the flock, tot he shinigami's shepherds, they only cared about them in raw numerical value- not as people, or individuals. Mako realized this- but unlike others, he did not hate the Shinigami for it: on the contrary, it made logical sense to him.

After all, it had been beaten into him- time and time again: the strong controlled everything. No, what he hated them for was the fact that they didn't admit these things, that they pretended to actually care- like this woman, she hadn't wanted to heal him out of some twisted kindness. She wanted to heal him because he was a potential recruit for the Shinigami. But he knew better- he knew full well, that he had no talent for anything that could bring him out of the slums .. and even if he did, his mentality was too broken, too fragile. He couldn't run .. because his father would find him- there was no running from him, he'd tried it in the past. He was trapped here, for the rest of his life- it was why he had attempted to end it, had Reiko not forced him to promise to do no such thing. Now he was trapped, locked in a never-ending cycle of suffering trying to find a reason to live so that he didn't break his promise to that foolish, bright girl that thought she could save everyone around her.

With these thoughts, his eyes would raise toward her- eyes of a dead fish meeting her own tired, sorrowful gaze. ".. I can't leave," he stated simply, bluntly, and it was nothing but a truth the boy obviously believed to his very core. There was nowhere for him to go- no beautiful place on the horizon for him to run to in hopes of becoming more. He was scum, trash, a curse, a blight on the face of this world- he had no right to even exist. His very existence had killed his own mother, brought on the fall of his family and its fortune, it's standing. No one had ever tried to believe in him: and there was a reason for that. He wasn't worth believing in, anyone that knew him for long understood that simple fact- worthless, weak, the only thing he was good at was being afraid. It was a sick, twisted never ending cycle he couldn't break free of- he was sure Reiko would try to break it for him, likely so would Yuuta- but he couldn't let them close. He couldn't let anyone close, or his father would ..

The idea of either of his new "friends" (as they insisted they be called) being found by his father made his stomach churn as he slowly shifted his gaze to the side, breaking focus with the woman, unable to hold eye contact on his own as it was- with an upset stomach it would only be worse. Slowly his placed both hands into his muddy lap, not having risen from his seat on the slick ground. "I can't owe you .. I can't owe you anything, so what do you want ..?" he murmured simply, the idea of being in a debt to anyone- was horrifying. It was a fate worse than death. Being bound by a contract, by a deal, by a debt- it was like someone held a weight over your head, a leash that you had no control over. He suffered enough without such a thing, and there was no way he could believe that stupid line: "You owe me nothing" bullshit- he knew it was a lie. If they ever met again, and she needed something- she would remember this favor. Even if she didn't directly say the words "You owe me" the silent assumption that he would go along with her, would be there. Because the reality was he was indebted.

He couldn't do that. He had to break that debt in some way- that thought made his fingers dig into his opposing forearm, his eyes staring at her knee's as he waited for an answer, a reason, anything that he could grip on to in order to escape that crushing sense of owing another being anything.

Tags: Zâbel Kohara
Post Words: 874
Total Words: 3,463
Total GP so Far: 69 (hue)

Zâbel Kohara

Fourth Division Research Officer

104 Posts

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 1, 2017 18:42:23 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on Jun 1, 2017 18:42:23 GMT -5

"Karma is such an exacting whore", the words poured into her head, the voice that of her father one night after an evening of binge drinking. Spoken in disgust over something he refused to explain, he had gone out with a mission that next day with her grandfather and both had been slain. It was true, she just didn't know why, only that the reality was there. You paid up one way or another and there was no welching on the debt. Perhaps if she had known that Kenji had actually been forced to slay his traitorous father, had been locked away as a traitor himself with the truth covered beneath lies upon lies, her outlook would have been entirely different. One can only suppose.

As it was, she roamed these districts trying to find the resurrected soul of her father and pay back a bit of the karmic debt she owe for saving her from the life this young one led. Why the lad couldn't just accept her compassion was so obvious. People feared the unknown, looked deep for clues and explanation to understand the unfathomable, and often found answers that were far beyond the truth. Her actions were so foreign to him it was obvious why he could not see it for what it was. So what was she to do? Just turn and walk away? The Shinigami had given up that right the moment she walked in his direction and interfered with his life. Now she was trapped and duty bound.

Sighing heavily she said, "Look at me boy. Pay attention if you can. Belief, of course, will be optional but I will speak to you my truth." WIthout waiting to see if he raised his head to indeed gaze upon her face, she squatted in the road, her head bowed toward the ground, and propped her arms akimbo upon either knee. Delicate hands that did not reveal the labors of their mistress dangled toward the ground as the fingertips of her right drew nonsensical circles in the dust. When She spoke she spoke to the ground, much in the manner of one who knew better than to be confrontational by making eye contact; like a citizen of the outer districts.

"I woke up in this world not within Seireitei or the plush inner districts, but within the 61rst; Kusajishi. I don't need to tell you a sob story of what that is like. But one day a Shinigami came and adopted me into his home and my life changed forever. I cannot pay to him my debt forhe is dead now. It will hang over my head forever. But I can walk through the warrens and bring healing to those who need. Maybe one day my debt will be paid. Who knows?", her voice at last fell silent.

Dusting her hands off, she raised her head and gave him a penetrating stare. "You do not owe me. It is I who owe you." Slowly so as not to provoke his fear to any higher level than it already was, she rose to her feet and took another pace away from him. "You can continue as you are boy. Will any even be there to watch your body fade or hold a memorial once your soul moves on from here to..." she shook her head and laughed at the absurdity of the words that came to mind, "...someplace better? Just like this was supposed to be better than the world we all once inhabited?"

Her hand rose, the back brushing the long strands of hair from her eyes before planting itself into the small of her back. "Or you can train to make the spark inside you grow. Gain power to do something about the lives around you, to stop being the victim. Is there no one you wish to protect?" She pivoted to move toward the Seireitei, letting her weight shift toward her forward placed leg. "This one choice I owe to you", she stated in her matter of a fact tone of voice. "But the day has been long and I tired quickly. I will wait while you decide, but know I must leave you soon." She laughed suddenly at the absurdity of it all and shook her head. She, mentoring a child? What the hell was she thinking? "I don't fancy sleeping out in the fields tonight when I could be warm by a fire with a hot bowl of rice and tea.”, her stomach chose to voice its assent as soon as her words ceased to be. She had used a great deal of Reiryoku today but that was nothing a good meal and some sleep could not fix. Surely the boy hungered too.

Word Count: 790 + 2301= 3091

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=== Speaking === | === Thinking ===| === Zanpakutō ===

Mako Fujita

Second Squad, Unseated

219 Posts

Reiatsu100 Defense30 Strength10 Speed20 Spirit40 Applicationa king ruled by fear, Threadsrules only an empty castle.

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 2, 2017 4:27:22 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 2, 2017 4:27:22 GMT -5

He heard her words as she commanded him to look at her, and he felt a chill travel up his spine- how many times had he been commanded in that same way in the past? But yet, the tone was different- even though it was firm, there was something deeper in her tone .. at first, he was unable to detect it. No. He detected it right away, he simply didn't believe what he was feeling from the woman- kindness. Understanding. An attempt to help him- an earnest one at that, something he simply couldn't understand in the slightest. but he was able to register that she was being honest, and so his eyes slowly lifted- focusing on the woman's own gaze as she sank down in front of him and spoke to him in a way that he had never anticipated from a shinigami. Circles, traced in the dirt like a child as she told her story .. and he felt a slow degree of understanding grow. How harsh, fate could be- this is why he didn't care for anyone, not even himself. This woman was chained to a debt she could never pay because she cared too much about this shinigami, this "father" of her's.

There was no point in showing the differential in what that word meant between them. There was no debt for him here, she was enslaved to her own debt, a fate worse than death in his own eyes. How could she even bare to live? To be forced to do something she didn't even enjoy, helping others in some vain attempt to settle a debt that she was unable to fulfill. For that matter, she was going about it entirely wrong- what she was doing to give herself peace of mind was different from what her father had done. She was healing random strangers, when he had taken a single person and completely "saved" them- if you could call this fate of her's being saved with a clear conscious, he certainly couldn't. However, his train of thought was halted when she continued to talk- speaking that he could continue as he was, speaking of some unknown "better place" and slowly his hands lowered- he'd never even considered some better place, really. He wasn't that naive- no matter where his soul went, he was too weak. He would always be this way, no matter what world he may have found himself in.

However, he knew the answer to her first question: he doubted anyone would have any memorial for him, even his so-called "friends" he was sure would forget him in a few years. The idea of them remembering him when he finally died and passed into nothingness was a laughable idea at the best. However, as she continued to speak- he still listened: why? He knew what she was going to say, after all, this was the most logical way for her to amend her "debt"- by doing exactly what her own "father" had done for her. Taking in a lost soul, nurturing it, making it strong. He knew it was impossible, he was pointless, useless, even if some shinigami randomly decided he may be worth something that didn't make it true. Yet he still sat, and he still listened to the pointless talk, knowing where it was leading- she asked if he had anyone he wanted to protect? .. No, that wasn't a reason for him to have strength, he had no one, wanted no one. But .. he could feel .. something. The idea of power- the idea that he could, with time, escape his father .. no, more than that. Kill his father. Crush him into the earth, make him cry, and beg, as he slowly ripped him apart, piece by piece.

His gaze slid downward slowly, staring at the ground as the woman turned and she laughed to herself- likely at the idea of teaching him. He had to agree, the idea was impossible, idiotic, and yet- the idea of making that man suffer, with his own hands, made his pulse quicken, and his pupils slowly shrink. His mouth felt .. odd, what was this?

Slowly, a hand raised- placing itself on his lips as his eyes slowly widened, he was smiling. It was unnatural, something he had never once done in his life .. his first smile, and it was not due to happiness, but eagerness. An eagerness to do harm, to kill, to take revenge, to become strong. He had nothing else, no friends, no love, nothing- but that one, core, sadistic desire. But even more amusing to him, it was enough. It was enough to smash through that wall of self-doubt and open the possibility, because for once- someone believed in him. This shinigami thought he could achieve strength if he truly tried. He had a way to achieve power if he only tagged along with this woman .. but he knew he had to make something clear. The smile had long disappeared from his face, and instead, he pushed himself, weakly to his feet- focusing on her. ".. I can't go to the Academy .. not yet .. but, if you .. can make me strong; then once I feel strong enough to try .. I will go," it was a deal, in a way. He was offering a contract himself- but it was an easy one to follow, one that he fully desired to follow through with.

Becoming a shinigami, growing strong, escaping this darkness .. it had been impossible. But .. with this woman's help, with a source of power, of knowledge, effort- it could become possible, even for him to become something more than a slum rat on the side of the street.

Tags: @tags
Post Words: 945
Total Words: 4,408
Total GP so Far: 88

Zâbel Kohara

Fourth Division Research Officer

104 Posts

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 4, 2017 15:39:46 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on Jun 4, 2017 15:39:46 GMT -5

Zâbel nodded her head. His response was at least showing he had somehow managed to think about the future as something that could be molded and need not run to only one deadly conclusion. "That is fine. Join, do not join; that is totally up to you. There are many paths in life, we need not all be on the same one toward growth", she replied.

Turning toward home, she would travel along with the lad seeing the evidence of her words played out by the lives of those in the various districts. So many souls, each one living their lives and struggling through this existence. Even though within the inner distracts were not without hardship and pain. No one despite their social or economic status led a charmed life. These things were hard to measure. there were just too many variables at play.

A thought occurred to her as she paused outside the gates to Seireitei, the trek largely taken in silence other than the odd comment from time to time. She was well aware that the task was going to be full of stumbling blocks, no easy chore to entangle yourself in the life of another. Even so, it might just be beneficial to them both. Looking at the youth she wondered if her own father had felt this way when he had brought her to these very same gates all those years ago. It was doubtful at best, Kenji had been a complicated man and his daughter was more than aware that she was not seeking to replace that lost family with a new one. This boy...

Suddenly she grinned as she realized one serious oversight, "I can't very well go on calling you 'boy' all the time. My name is Zâbel Kohara, and you are?"

Word Count: 299 + 3091 = 3390

=== #c0817c === | === #e65219 === | === #1995e6 ===
=== Speaking === | === Thinking ===| === Zanpakutō ===

Mako Fujita

Second Squad, Unseated

219 Posts

Reiatsu100 Defense30 Strength10 Speed20 Spirit40 Applicationa king ruled by fear, Threadsrules only an empty castle.

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 5, 2017 4:22:56 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 5, 2017 4:22:56 GMT -5

The woman commented he didn't even have to join- so he scratched the deal, seeing as she didn't agree to the "contract". Instead, he filed the entire situation mentally under the simple idea that the woman wanted to make peace with her own debt, and it meant he was in no way obligated to do anything she said he didn't like. Wandering behind the woman he was able to quietly focus on those surrounding him- his eyes varying from building to building, noting the way the environment around him began to shift. This wasn't the slums anymore, far from it, he could feel the distance- the distant surface emotions of those around them. It was like a soft rain, compared to the downpour of blood and suffering that the slums feelings were bathed in. The walk continued, with only the occasional minor comment tossed toward him- and he generally didn't respond, if he did it was a single word response that ended the small talk as quickly as possible. Mako hated talking about meaningless things- he hated talking in general, but especially about pointless subjects. Instead, he kept his senses raised- even as he stuck close to the side of the woman he made sure his energy was compressed as possible.

Like a ghost, he disappeared to any and all but those with the highest level of reiatsu sensory- his hands twitching at his sides, waiting for something, anything to go wrong the entire trip- the people here didn't make sense to him. For the most part, they were happy- no, perhaps content was a more accurate term. They moved about their day and simply let things continue clicking along, it reminded him of something- and it took a few moments for him to make the connection. Like cattle. Sheep. They were the true livestock, not the slums- tricked into thinking their lives now were fine, they were safe behind their "Shepherds" fence- within reach of the Gotei's protection, they likely even got to see the patrols of the squads themselves and thought themselves safe. Mako couldn't help but wonder if the fools even stopped to contemplate the fact that they were still under just as much threat- did they even know how to survive, depend on themselves in order not to die? How to hide, run, feel the threats around them?

No. They were just sheep protected by a false sense of duty that they assumed the Gotei actually cared about. Foolish cattle.

Blinking, his line of thought was interrupted as the woman lifted her head and grinned, glancing down at him as she asked for his name, and gave her own in return. He would frown slightly- no one ever really cared about his name .. and he hadn't either, as it was a simple, and accurate estimate to his being. Still, after a brief moment, he would avert his eyes and look at the path they were traveling instead- obviously not able to hold eye contact for long.

"Fujita. Fujita .. Mako," the last word was a mumble- and the reason obvious, the boy's name was effeminate to start, but to make it even worse the meaning itself was something only a cruel parent could come up with. The name meaning quite simply "Cursed Child", he was the cursed child of his family- as his name would have others believe. It was clear he was unused to introductions- as he didn't give any further words, no "pleasure to meet you" or "Sensei", it was simply an answer to her question, not an introduction in the slightest. It was apparent that Mako's attention was focused on their surroundings more than the conversation- if the woman wanted to avoid him due to a name than she was just like everyone else and it made it that much easier to categorize her and abandon her before he got in too deep for comfort. As it was he was already pushing his comfort zone after all- as they continued walking, he would simply tuck his hands under his chest as he kept his focus on their surroundings.

He had no idea how long the walk was going to be- but the rest of it slipped into the background, keeping his focus on possible threats the entire time until they arrived at their destination, to which he would glance around whenever Zabel stopped, obviously looking for the specific building that he had been led to- and what the new area itself entailed that he would be, he assumed, "training" in.

Tags: @tags
Post Words: 756
Total Words: 5,164
Total GP so Far: 103

Zâbel Kohara

Fourth Division Research Officer

104 Posts

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 5, 2017 14:11:58 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on Jun 5, 2017 14:11:58 GMT -5

Zâbel nodded her head upon hearing his name and how appropriately it described existence on the whole. "Very well Mako, I see that your names speak truth, and yet it does not speak the entire tale", her voice was full of weariness and it was all too easy to let herself go to a dark place. That would have just been the allure of despair speaking, however, and that was just not a dominating factor in her life. Before heading through the gates she commented, "Just remember that everything in existence has an opposing force that creates balance in the universe. Life is a series of checks and balances: light and dark, fast and famine, joy and sorrow, that we all experience. So too it is with curses and blessings. No one's life is ever only one thing", she concluded.

Passing through the streets of Seireitei, the Shinigami going about their individual pursuits, the passage of the youth and his companion didn’t elicit the need for anyone to deviate from their course and intervene in their own. She really wasn’t the sort to stand out in such a way as to necessitate social encounters from those they passed along the way to the residential sector wherein lay the Kohara compound.

Isolated from the active military bases of the individual divisions the grounds were enclosed behind stone walls, unlike those of Seireitei itself, of a benign and mundane nature. This is to say that though they were of the spiritual realm, they were not empowered as the stone, Sekkiseki, with any Reishi reducing effects. She let her Reiatsu flare, her palm upon the gate, and pushed it open once the seal acknowledged her identity.

Inside there were a collection of buildings that comprised the residences and other necessary features of the Kohara family, a large open courtyard with ornamental gardens and koi pond dominated the open space round which the buildings were placed. So large, much larger than the one remaining member would ever need.

She led him across the paving stones past the vacant buildings, all standing empty and locked from the outside with similar seals as the one placed on the gates, to a smaller ‘house’ in which she did reside. A set of steps, with but three risers, led up to the porch that was covered with a shed roof over the front door. Slipping her Zori off at the door, she opened the dwelling and invited the youth inside, “Here is where I live. Tomorrow, if you decide to stay, I will open up one of the other houses so you may have some privacy. Come, it has been a wearisome day. Food, a bath in the bath house, sleep. It is enough for one day, yes?” Stepping inside she would hold the sliding door panel open and await his entry.

//Thread Exit

Word Count: 474 + 3390 = 3864

=== #c0817c === | === #e65219 === | === #1995e6 ===
=== Speaking === | === Thinking ===| === Zanpakutō ===

Mako Fujita

Second Squad, Unseated

219 Posts

Reiatsu100 Defense30 Strength10 Speed20 Spirit40 Applicationa king ruled by fear, Threadsrules only an empty castle.

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 5, 2017 14:39:40 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 5, 2017 14:39:40 GMT -5

Mako's senses tingled, he had never felt so many presences around him around him, it was like he was surrounded by waves of energy- each stronger than the last. Even the most common Shinigami that wandered near felt too strong for him to even comprehend- it was a terrifying experience, to say the least. having been surrounded by those without real energy, only a few sparse individuals holding it and most were comparable to him- it was an overwhelming sensation to be surrounded by so much energy in comparison. He moved a step closer to Zabel as they walked, then mentally scoffed at himself: what? Was he instinctively hoping she would magically protect him if one of them lashed out at him? The thought seemed unlikely .. then again who knew how deep the roots to this debt of her's really went. She had promised him power .. to train him, and if she was dedicated enough to offer that, then perhaps she would offer him protection as well. If he could get strong .. strong enough to come back and no longer have to fear his father .. it would be worth it. Moriko and Yuuta would be fine without him for a while, though they'd be upset that he seemed to just disappear into thin air he was sure.

Perhaps he should return in a few days to let them know where he was at least. If he was making this decision, he could not return home until he gained the strength he was promised .. this was a huge gamble- if he returned prematurely and his father located him, he may not survive the encounter of him "abandoning" his father. He had to be strong enough to ..

For a brief moment, Mako hesitated, and his stomach clenched. Could he even do that? Stand up to his father? Even if he had obtained power ..

The image of his father's demented smile as the white hot metal seared into his flesh, of the sound of his own bones breaking under the beatings, of his flesh being cut, and clawed, of biting his tongue till it bled to try and ignore the feeling of his rags being ripped away to expose his flesh for his father's use. He could feel his heartbeat increasing in tempo, feel the sensations of pain rushing through his chest as his footing stumbled, a hand raising slowly to clutch at his torso as the images circled his mind like a pack of hungry wolves around a bloodied calf. His grip on his chest continued to tighten- until he blinked, and Zabels words filled his mind: it was not kindness that she spoke of. It was a balance .. a way of the natural order of the world; just as the rays of light had purified the darkness every morning. Just as he was abused due to being weak .. everything was a balance, and that thought- eased him. He feared his father because he was weak .. if he became strong, he could defeat that fear- that was the thought he desperately clung too.

This was the first time he had this sort of thought, this feeling. The idea that if he did something, his life could be better- and it was a terrifying thought. The idea of working for something .. it was scary- but there was a single thought that passed through his mind, one that came to him suddenly in a moment of clarity, Hard work betrays none, but dreams betray many. This ideal, this answer that he found- calmed his shaking, he had no need to dream .. but hard work, hard work with the assistance of this woman- a source of knowledge, skill, and power- could prove fruitful. It was a terrifying thing, to take that first step- so much so that as he stared upward at the great stone walls, so different from what he was used to in the slums- that he almost couldn't do it. Even as the gate opened, as she entered and invited him in: he knew if he took this step there was no turning back. He would be trapped on this line of thought, he would be forced to continue working toward this goal .. his first goal in his life beyond "Survival" for him to ever take.

It was harrowing, terrifying, overwhelming. Yet .. he felt a burning within his chest, something distant that he always suppressed that had risen to the surface earlier, just briefly. Hunger for power .. for revenge. Wrath, in its purest form, so hot it felt as thought his chest was burning. His empty eyes slowly hardened- and with a single movement, he took the step.

His journey was only just beginning- but the first step really was always the hardest.

As she offered a bath and sleep, he simply nodded his head- content to let her tug him along toward wherever he needed to go to bath and wear something that wasn't the dirty rags that clung to his body. As she commented that he was welcome to stay- he would slowly blink, he'd heard rumors of such things fo course- people that had entire small homes on their properties for servants and others to say in. But he never thought he'd see one, let alone had a room to himself, let alone a separate house. The very idea was alien to him- however, he did manage a slow nod of understanding, before a brief thought entered his mind. Slowly blinking he would let his gaze lift toward the woman after a few moments- before he decided he didn't have the right to ask any more of her. He would then be indebted to her. No, he would have to send a message to Yuuta and Reiko himself somehow, perhaps a letter, he wasn't sure if they could read .. but he was fairly sure their parents could, that should be enough.

With that same blank expression, he stepped forward and began heading toward the bath house behind the woman- despite his blank expression, there was the dimmest of light shining in his eyes. Eyes that had once appeared to be that of a dead man, began to show just the slightest hints of life- how far it would develop, only time could tell.

//Thread Exit.

Tags: @tags
Post Words: 1,044
Total Words: 6,208
Total GP so Far: 124

Last Edit: Jun 11, 2017 9:08:19 GMT -5 by Mako Fujita

Bleach Gotei

[C] A Specter's Offer [AO | TBTP | Closed]

Post by Mako Fujita on May 31, 2017 11:27:11 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on May 31, 2017 13:11:10 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on May 31, 2017 13:45:26 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on May 31, 2017 15:14:23 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on May 31, 2017 15:46:08 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on May 31, 2017 20:04:52 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 1, 2017 11:02:13 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on Jun 1, 2017 18:42:23 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 2, 2017 4:27:22 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on Jun 4, 2017 15:39:46 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 5, 2017 4:22:56 GMT -5

Post by Zâbel Kohara on Jun 5, 2017 14:11:58 GMT -5

Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 5, 2017 14:39:40 GMT -5

Welcome!