Post by Acedia on Jun 18, 2017 14:57:46 GMT -5
ACEDIA
BASE HOLLOW
BASE HOLLOW
[ AT A GLANCE ]
Age: 92 (Human - 64 Years, Plus Soul - 1 Month and Base Hollow - 28 Years)
Apparent Age: Indistinguishable
Gender: Female
Height: 12 foot, 4 inches
Weight: 950 pounds
Eye Color: White
Hair Color: Charcoal Grey
Positive Traits:
- Patient:
Quite content not to exert herself too much, her hunting style is more staking out and baiting than chasing down and pouncing. It is better to conserve one’s energy allowing the little minion-scapegoats to lure dinner to her lair. This is not to say she doesn’t actively hunt, but her favorite mode is to lurk around the terminally ill, make them miserable with despair, and wait for them to die. That delectable flavor of a soul that has given up on life is worth the wait. - Observant:
Trial and error certainly has taught her to be very much aware of her surroundings. As her personality grew so did her reliance upon what she could learn from the world around her and then put to good use. - Cautious:
Running headlong into battle is really not her style, that sort of engagement require too much effort with no guarantee of reward. It is much better to consider all the angles before plunging right in. She carefully determines if something is worth the energy it takes to achieve. Having to question that too often in any given situation is just as likely to wind up with her not bothering to risk it. - Persuasive:
She seems to have a way with lesser hollow, those that are not as resilient as herself, speaking to their baser needs really isn’t that difficult a chore; feed the hungry. It is the humans that she targets where her influence is truly felt. Not so much in actual dialogue but her presence weighing upon them to join her in despair. - Stealthy:
Her most useful tactic is to not draw attention to herself. You won’t hear her calling out like some rabid beast unable to stop drooling at the merest whiff of food in the air. That is a sure way to make dinner run and too much bother to chase after.
Negative Traits:
- Apathetic:
Acedia has a definite malaise about her. There isn’t much that she gets excited about and, were it not for her hunger, she would not rouse herself from her lair at all. The notion of striving for supremacy is distasteful to her and she is not so sure she is all that keen about existence in general. Perhaps one day she will stop living, there really is no rush to decide these things. - Peevish:
Acedia had very little in her life with which she is content and she doesn’t put much effort into hiding this from those around her. Her temper is not quite childish, but quarrelsome. Her muttering includes fretful sentiments, mostly about the wisdom in pursuing a certain goal. Ill tempered on a regular basis, she will often act contrary to the wishes of others due to whim or some remembered slight. - Malicious:
Taking pleasure in the suffering of others, she enjoys the trauma to the soul much more than that done to the body. While it is true she has entertained herself with the odd skinning or two, it is despair she is after rather than physical pain. - Lethargic:
Acedia exists under the great burden of life, and exhibits this physically as well as mentally. She thinks about things for a long while and only gives an answer or a decision to someone when she is good and ready. Physically she is quite cumbersome. The turning of her head, the gestures of her hands, every plodding step lacks enthusiasm. Even her feeding habits are such that she will hold a soul prisoner in her mouth, her long teeth forming the bars of a cell, while she slowly absorbs her meal. - Morbid:
Acedia is quite obsessed with decay. It fills something within her to sit and watch dead bodies decompose. The artful stillness, disturbed by all the little carrion feeders, organisms too small to be seen by the naked eye erasing life, exemplifies all that is right with the world.
Loyalties: No one
Snapshots:
- 1925: Born in Ayacucho, Peru
- 1943 - 1950: Process of discernment, finals vows, Sister of St. Joseph
- 1950- 1989: Stationed in Korea
- 1975: Becomes Mother Superior
- 1989: Neglects health, dies of complications due to diabetes
- 1989: Hollowfication
- 1995: Gains sentience
- 1997: Produces minions
- 2013: Hunting minions draws her to Karakura Town
- 2017: Joins Pack of Karakura Town
[ ON THE SURFACE ]
Physical Description: Acedia is a bulky compact mass of darkness, the surface of her form having the texture of a hairy pelt. Standing at twelve foot four inches, she has a weight of 950 pounds. Her eyes stare out at the world unblinking appearing as no more than white stones set unmoving into place. The only visible parts of her anatomy are the skeletal hands that just out from the end of her hairy appendages. The dominating feature of her form is her constantly gaping mouth. Occupying the entire lower half of her face, large fangs crowd each other for space. Her nose is little more than an opening hidden among her pelt, almost as an afterthought.
When feeding her aspect undergoes changes. Her girth is greatly reduced due to the creation of her spawn that she uses to lure in prey. This gives her an emaciated look. During the actual process of eating, she attacks with her skeletal arms which are now bare and exposed to the shoulder from beneath her pelt. This hairy covering takes on the look of a torn and tattered peasant shift. Her mouth becomes unhinged to the point that a huge cavernous maw is created to drop down over her victim and trap them within her mouth. As she feeds, welcoming the minions back into her form to feast on their kill, she slowly resumed her sedentary form.
For the most part she is quiet and withdrawn. When she does speak, her voice is flat without emotion unless she is complaining. Then it takes on a sharp quality, punctuated by heaving sighs and the occasional drawn out whine. She never makes a sound when hunting, but rather conserves her energy for the work at hand.
Spiritual Description: Oppressive in nature, those who are susceptible to its effects feel a general sense of apathy filling their minds. To the spiritually aware, it appears as a dark aura that exudes off her form in waves which gradate toward the edges to grey.
[ BEHIND THE EYES ]
Personality: Acedia interacts with the world as little as possible. As the endless days have little to no purpose, she need only do the bare minimum required to stay alive. There is also really no desire in her to end her life, and views that as a colossal undertaking. Nothing really evokes strong emotions from her, though she does engage in petty behaviors such as complaining, arguing, or fault finding.
She is fairly astute at observing the flaws and weaknesses in others and then drawing attention to them to undermine their confidence. Causing others to suffer is one of the good things life has to offer. This might involve actual physical torture, but more often than not she desires to see a corrosion of her target's soul. Despair is her favorite weapon. Exploiting weaker Hollows, she persuades her minions to lure food back to her lair under the promise of sharing a bigger kill than they are able to make upon their own.
Not the sort to take chances, she will consider her actions for a lengthy period of time before ever budging an inch. She keeps a careful eye upon her ‘servant’ hollows eating any who show signs of growing stronger. Patiently she will observe a target at length before she ever approaches. Stealthy in both mind and deed, she keeps her motivations masked and undercover at all times. The long game is her goal, letting a soul ripen to just the right degree of sorrow before she feeds, Acedia will often linger over a kill taking enjoyment in the universal truth that all things decay.
Goals & Achievements:
Developed spawning ability: If you can get someone else to do all the work, then why not? Acedia developed the ability to eject bits of her being in the form of little minions to run around and do her biding. Acting as bait, they lure lesser Hollow into her lair for dinner.
Find safety in numbers: Karakura Town is more dangerous than anywhere she has ever dwelt. As a result her old strategies put her at great risk and she has come to realize that it is time to band together with others. Hopefully there might be some Hollow in the same situation. If not, she can always just eat whoever she meets. Moving to a new lair is just too much work.
[ GUARDIAN ANGEL ]
Aspect of Death: Sloth
Acedia's aspect of death centers upon the accumulation of the Cardinal Sin of Sloth. Technically complications associated with Diabetes was the cause of death, however the disease was treatable; she simply ceased to care. Weighted down by the suffering of others through a long life of service with war orphans, she withdrew from the world, because detached from her sisters, and stopped watching her diet. Missing appointments, inconsistency with her medications, and failure to tend to minor wounds led to blindness, gangrene requiring amputation of her left foot above the ankle, and dialysis. Her inactivity resulted in an inability to leave her bed. Eventually she slipped into a diabetic coma and died in her sleep.
Power: El Esclavo ( The Slave )
Acedia can eject portions of her being as 'minions' who carry out her bidding. This involves being bait for other hollows and a lot of running home to the lair so 'mother' can feed. In addition to running, they can head butt with their ram-skull heads, and bite. Can be created as a single unit or as a pack of five at present.
Zanpakutō: As a Base Hollow she has none at this time.
[ LEGACY CREATED ]
Origin: Born one hundred years after Peru gained its independence, Maria grew up in the shadow of the great statue to the revolutionary heroine, María Parado de Bellido. Oh the nuns at the orphanage said they had named her after the blessed Virgin, like so many other cast aside young girls, but she liked to think it was from this proud woman she was named. She had refused to betray the revolutionaries and been martyred for the cause. Walking through the of the Arc, where the 60 year old had faced the firing squad, she would pause to look up at her statue. From time to time she even daydreamed that perhaps she was descended from one of her children taken in by the holy fathers..It hardly.mattered, all those orphan Maria’s were her children now.
No doubt the good Sisters of the Abbey would have deemed it blasphemy, but half the time in church it was not the blessed mother’s face she looked upon while reciting her rosary but that of the patriot. There was little enough time for daydreaming though. Growing up in Ayacucho at the orphanage, they all worked in order to survive. Times were incredibly hard and not just for those who were wards of the church, but the entire region. The sisters put the wool from the alpacas they raised to good use, the girls learning the arts of spinning and weaving and dyeing wool all for the tourist trade that visited the area. Competition was fierce in the rural community so she had to work hard to attract the attention of the wealthy foreigners. Her enthusiasm and powers of persuasion were high, always getting left her more sales than when they left her at the Abbey, so she soon became a regular fixture within the market. Running through the crowds she promised the potential customers the best of everything as she lured them to the Abbey’s stall.
When she wasn’t working with the wool, or hawking to tourists, she was busy with her lessons both religious and secular. In a time when most girls were educated with marriage in mind, Maria began to catch the notice of the sisters for her religious fervor. It was hardly any wonder that the young girl should take to the cross for not only was she influenced by the sisters but the greater community at large. With 33 churches in the town, one for every year that Jesus was alive, it was only natural that some should sink into her impressionable young mind. All in their life was not hardship, however. They were a people who celebrated life. With numerous religious holidays, including a week long Easter Maria looked forward to the season every year. She had a particular fondness for the horse races but didn’t care for the running of the bulls, which was just,
too violent.
In her eighteenth year, to the surprise of no one she announced that she wished to start the process of discernment in order to become a Bride of Christ. She had seen the life of the orphan girls who had left the safety of their convent, helping out at the deliveries of one child after another and was certain that marriage was not for her. Drawn to a life of service, she also wished to see the world. A visiting nun from Sisters of St. Joseph spoke of a Korea in the far east and so it was that she would later become a novitiate with the SSJ and left her homeland with high expectations of the future.
She was a bit intimidated by the thought of entering a war zone, but was reassured that location was well away from the front lines. Focusing instead on working with the orphans, something for which she brought a special perspective, she boarded a military flight for Korea in 1950 and spent the rest of her life engaged in her mission.She thrived in the environment, even when having to evacuate the orphanage when the word was sent out about the advancing front lines, and took everything in stride. Ironically enough, it was after the war when she witnessed the worst of crimes.
As so often is the case during war between such diverse cultures, commingling between the indigenous and foreign people will occur. Her own culture’s history was full of the gradual inclusion of the Spanish with the native people and the injustices that went along with bigotry. It was a little different though when the initial clash of those two worlds colliding was raw and new rather than centuries old. It was always the worst, however on the children. Unwanted by either society, it was all too common for racial hatred to be the reason those infants entered into her care. It was bad enough when poverty or death brought her another mouth to feed, that couldn’t be helped and poverty could be overcome. But forever being of both worlds and welcome in neither was cold.
As the years wound on it became harder and harder to speak of rewards in the afterlife when she had to watch the bright young souls in her charge face one heartbreak after another. She became politically active, as much as the strictures of her order would permit, trying to verify the parentage of those with ;mixed blood’. Using what resources the church had to offer, she aided those who wished to be adopted into American families and the hope of a better life. Although living in the land of plenty rather than war torn Korea in an orphanage had its definite perks, she had to wonder if they would really be better off.
Eventually she was called to head her mission, having been named Mother Superior after the death of the prior Reverend Mother. What she thought would provide her with more freedom to direct the mission toward making real change slowly began to reveal itself as just another dead end. Things like political boundaries made little sense when you looked into the eyes of so many without a nation to call their own. The success stories were little enough to compensate for all those that passed through the halls of the Abbey and were preyed upon in the streets of the city. She could feel her faith slipping, each new failure, each life she was unable to make better tore a hole in the sanctity of her veil. Her spark began to flutter even as she went about her duties in a listless manner.
Her once observant nature, that let her see into the hearts of even the most withdrawn of her charges to draw them out of their shells began to falter as she was weighed down by the managerial aspect of the abbey and its working rather than staying in her role as direct care. Thoughts about the pointlessness of striving to make a difference plagued her nights and intruded upon her days. Where was the justice in a God who cared nothing for the welfare of his people’s lives and only for amassing souls to sing at the feet of his throne in the afterlife? The futility of it all was taking a serious toll upon her health and she was often filled with anger. Prayer ceased to provide the peace and relief from stress it once had to the point that she engaged in her private prayers less and less. She was a woman just going through the motions.
It all came to a head when she was rushed to the hospital one morning when she was unable to speak properly. Thinking she may have had a stroke, a simple blood test revealed her blood sugar levels had spiked to over 300. Being diagnosed with diabetes seemed to be the last straw for Maria. She grew despondent, withdrew from those around her, and neglected her health., A stroke behind her eyes made her go blind and she refused to leave her rooms fearing she would come to harm. She didn't eat properly, refused to exercise, and wouldn’t take her medicine properly to the point that her decline came rather rapidly. She longed for release but her indifferent God paid no heed to the prayers of the sisters; she had ceased praying long ago. A small cut on her foot turned gangrenous and even after the amputation of her left foot she failed to wake up to the seriousness of her condition. Kidney failure, dialysis, and an inability to even leave her bed resulted but she had completely given up.
Her death finally came one night when she slipped into a diabetic coma. Instead of finding release, she was filled with even more despair. Nothing was as promised. No one was there to greet her and lead her on to heaven, there was no joyful reunion with those that had died before her, only the hell hole of futility that was the orphanage. She tried to leave but that was when she discovered her soul chain linking her to the very bed within which she had died. Even more powerless in death than in life she could do little more than to watch the children at their prayers, listen to the interminable droning of the sisters chanting the Liturgy of the Hours. Pain coursed through her as the days wore into weeks. Why couldn’t they see what a lie it all was, how pointless their mumblings were, how corrupt the world was? They were all damned one way or another. They could not hear her screams to get off their knees and go out into the world and live their lives but just continued to be the ineffectual drones that she had also been while alive.
Unable to face the thought of an eternity tied to this place she clawed the soul chain out of her chest like a rabid beast chews its own leg off to escape a trap. Everything changed in that instant forever as her mind was erased and her soul consumed by the feral beast that took its place. Her form twisted becoming a mockery of itself. The mouth that had screamed unheard grew to dominate her face even as her body expanded well beyond the confines of her cell. It was the sound of chanting that drew her to the sacred space of the chapel, her clothing now hung from her body as a pelt of fur in mockery of the hair shirts penitents of old would don. Her senses rapidly expanded within the crowded space to include smells and desires she had never before experienced. So much hunger filled her that nothing else could enter her brain. She must eat, and eat she did.
Her mouth unhinged defying reality to fully encase one person after another within its depths. The rush of sustenance was fleeting and with a frenzy she consumed one hapless soul after another until there were none remaining to stave off her desire. Instinctively she knew she would never be full and a stupor began to take hold of her form. Futility seemed familiar to her for some reason, it was warm and welcoming and the only thing that made sense to her tortured mind. A new desire reemerged within the glow of this sensation to leave this empty place for even after the hateful noise of those voices had ceased to be, just looking at the walls seemed to cause her pain. She passed out of the Abbey wandering seeking some small enclosed space in which she might take refuge until at last she found a cave. There she moved in beneath the ground finally able to feel secure within the tight confines of the cave before giving in to the stupor at last.
Rise to Power: Maria had become a monster; but she no longer existed and such concepts were beyond the grasp of what was left in her place. The notion of self was barely formed in that vestigial brain leaving nothing but raw and undefined sensors in its place. Hunger was her world now and it was a harsh and unforgiving task master. It would drive her from her lair and the sanctity of her stupor to venture forth into the harsh world for food. Each step she took was an exercise in pain when what little will she possessed desired nothing more than to lie within the darkness of her hole and cease to be.
The scent of souls was steadily becoming a source of pain in and of itself. She could not lie up in the lair forever, she must feed. And yet feeding did nothing but create the desire to consume more. A sense of dread began to cloud her eating habits, the merest whiff of food became both tormentor and the source of all pleasure to the point that the act of eating itself was an unrewarding chore. She needed more than just food, as each person she consumed only served to play into the cycle of hope and disappointment for nothing was as good as her burgeoning expectations would have it to be.
Her forays led her into the city where she would indiscriminately consume the first person she encountered before retreating back to her lair. It’s pull, her need to retreat from the world was every bit as powerful as her unending hunger. It was a constant battle between the two urges for supremacy of her will. Eating just enough to empower her ability to retreat, she began to notice that certain souls provided her just that little edge over her hunger than others would. Repeating the cycle of her new existence as she plodded to and from her cave she began to be watchful for clues that would make it possible for her to identify which souls were the best. She had little understanding of what to term this ‘preference’ but was slowly growing savvy enough to know that the souls that tasted good let her fight off her hunger a little longer each time.
One thing she noticed was that large groups of people were too hard to observe. The more souls that were gathered together the harder it was for her to tell the tasty ones from the rest. She altered her pattern to seek out those who wandered away from the pack. Rather than just pounce on her prey upon sight, she would lurk and take her time scenting the air with her mouth open as though tasting them before ever sinking her cavernous maw over their bodies to feed. If she was going to be forced to leave her lair and bother with eating, then she was going to make each and every morsel go as far as it possibly could. The reward simply had to balance out against the bother of all this effort.
Watching until she could no longer hold her attacks, she stared with her unblinking eyes and at last began to see. These creatures had odd behaviors, much of which made little sense. Why all that running around wasting energy when they could just as easily stop and give in to the inevitable? Her eyes spotted a man stumbling through the crowds that moved differently than the rest. She watched him shamble along the street away from the fast pace of the others looking quite weary. The word popped into her mind, weary. That is what she was. She moved forward as he was in danger of moving beyond her sight to observe him further. This similarity between them was just something she could see, but what could she taste? Hovering to his rear, she opened her mouth willing her gaping cavity to give her some hint of more. She could almost taste that pull inside the man so like unto her own. He too had a need to return to his lair and shut himself off from the world.
She actually moaned as the revelation was born within her mind and the man stopped and turned to look behind him when she did. This was totally new to her, no one ever looked at her or reacted in any way to her presence. Such a thing only further caused the sense of futility to grow in her, to forever be caught in a world where your presence caused literally no feedback at all was pure agony. It was fleeting however as he simply turned round and continued to drag himself forward one foot after the other along the street. She drew near again, nearly on top of him wishing to learn more but no further reaction came. At last her hunger compelled her to give up until she gave in to sink her maw down over his body. Drawing herself up again to her full height, her teeth encased about the man ripping his soul from his body which fell to the street below, she paused. It was the strangest thing she had ever experienced, this rush of flavor unlike anything she had sampled before. Usually she just devoured a soul right away so she could get back to her lair, but this time she actually paused to savor the rich flavors that exploded in her mouth.
The screams of the soul trapped within the prison cell of her mouth tickled new pleasure centers in her brain. He was aware of her now, there was no denying the facts. Validation of her existence? Perhaps that was part of it for there was too much going on within her to identify any one sensation. Was this amusement? The corner of her cheek twitched, lips drawn back in a rigor mortis from her massive fangs quite unused to such motion mustered up the remnants of a smile. Yes, this was nice. So many words began to trickle into her brain one after the other so she could realize she was actually enjoying herself. Loath to see it end, she returned to her lair carrying the soul in her mouth all the way just to prolong the experience. Little by little she fed upon the soul, its ability to react finally destroyed until all that remained was the rich flavors to enjoy. Days went by until at last she had absorbed all there was to be hand. Her last thought before being reunited with her blessed stupor was that the soul had been spiritually aware.
Her stupor lasted nearly a week, though the passage of time was not yet a fixed concept she could measure in numbers, her hunger inevitably rousing her from oblivion to face the world yet again. This time, however, she was aware of new concepts. Language was forming in her mind, pulled from the recesses of her barely functioning brain. A slow chain reaction of awakenings would overtake her in the long expanse of time to come. Able to now give terms to the sensations of her form, she began to awaken old concepts and even to form new ones of her own. Each journey into the city was filled with dread and yet her growing awareness gave rise to her tendency to wait and observe those upon whom she fed. She began to discriminate with better accuracy between souls and fed with greater efficiency.
The ability to discern between what was a good meal and what made a bad one was not the only thing she noticed. There were subtle changes within herself she saw as she continued to seek out those to eat that were more like herself. She was learning, acquiring language to help her define not only the surrounding world but herself as well. There was growing inside her more than just these two warring factors of eating and sleeping, she was developing desires and expectation and experiencing new sensations she now could call emotion. She could actually experience a more evolved sense of expectation and an even deeper sense of disappointment than before. Such things caused her to take the details she observed and try to increase the times between feedings.
There was much to be learned from her prey alone. What first seemed like senseless activity soon began to bring understanding. She noticed that there were rewards for their activities, especially when they worked together. That caused her to endless days of consideration on how she too might have more rewards for though the food source was suitable to her needs, at the same time she began to need to feed more often again.
The eternal search for souls that were more like herself, and thus would be better to eat, lead her to her first encounter with another Hollow. She saw it, a snake like creature stealing from her food supply and at first was quite peevish about the whole thing. Of course she couldn’t just continue to leisurely stroll around and see to her own needs. No way life was going to ever show her that kindness. She was going to have to double back and search through another part of town suffering through her hunger the whole time before she could find anything descent upon which to feed. That is when what she was seeing began to sink into her awakening brain. This thing fed on others, just like her.
Catching a light snack on some totally bland soul, she moved out to trail this creature and see what she might learn. The first thing she noticed was that it couldn’t seem to tell the difference between good prey and those that were useless. It was like she used to be. New concepts built upon those already awakened began to form as she realized there was something called the past that was very real and memorable. She looked at the snake thing again making sure that she understood properly. It was like she used to be, just some low level bottom feeder. Had her eye possessed lids they would have widened. She was progressed further, she had changed while it had not, she was better at feeding. So much was rolling around in her brain as she put the bits together and formed her first hypothesis on the basis of observed behavior. If it was like her and yet not as advanced, the new word sparking a wealth of meaning in itself, then that was the same thing as the differences in her food source. Those like her tasted better, this was like her even more. Hunger hit her with a power she had not felt before, no she barely was able to identify the sensation, this was a craving.
Moving forward, she made not a sound for her focus was upon its sinuous path. The beast suddenly spied her, a connection she had not yet made that if she could sense it and crave what it might taste like then the reverse was also true. It charged her, lacking her reserve and cautious nature and attacked. Never before has she to defend herself in this existence for nothing could touch her in any way till now. Her hands flew for its head squeezing tightly about its girth and she bit down hard upon its flailing coil. It body exploded into numerous smaller snake-like creatures swarming over her form and delving beneath her fury pelt.
Furiously she raked her fingers through her hair cramming the squiggling worms into her mouth swallowing them whole as they bit and nipped away at her body. The sensation of feasting consumed her and she redoubled her efforts to capture the invaders to rid herself of the dangerous vermin. While defense was certainly real, the need to taste these savory bits was the greater force until at last she had devoured the entire swarm. Retreating to her lair she fell into the deepest stupor of her life. The sense of reprieve filled her upon waking for this time she was not immediately compelled to go out hunting. The incident played over and over again in her mind and she began to question and experiment within herself. If it had been able to divide itself the so too should she for they were alike.
It would be quite a long time before she actually was able to use all the things she had observed both from her food source and the creature like herself. The desire to eat again from the Hollow was something hard to take. Her world was growing and her ability to imagine improved. Certainly there were more out there like them both and she must find another and another to consume. It occurred to her, just like the humans, she needed others to work together and just like the Hollow maybe she could make her own.
What resulted, through long periods of trial and error, were miniature hairless versions of herself. Quite imperfect, their horns lay back over their naked skulls while her own stood erect and surrounded by her glorious mane. Arms and legs that were barely functional, they seemed to move with much greater functionality than her own. She could take them out hunting, staying quite close as she watched them seeking out more of their kind. Practice, another concept she was steadily employing, resulted in a style of hunting that left her able to eventually stay within her lair while her spawn went out hunting and lured her prey into the confines of her lair. In that finite space the Hollows could not flee or race about as that snake had out in the open. Sensing them coming she could literally just lie in her cave with her mouth opened wide while her spawn ran inside leading her meal in close behind. It was just too perfect, home delivery at its finest.
Call to Action: Keeping up with her new craving kept pushing her to refine her new ability with the spawn, expanding upon their hunting grounds and increasing the number she could manifest and control at the same time. She even went so far as persuade one of her potential morsels to join her pack and serve her as part of the bait that would lure in hollows upon which to feed. Employing her usual practice of savoring a meal within her mouth while she slowly absorbed it into her body, she was surprised to actually hear and understand the creature speaking words she had become quite familiar with. Her mind was full of words for the things in the world, concepts endured in existence, even her own needs and desires, she just never had bothered to make them vocal before. Who was there to converse with, after all?
She knew she could make sounds, though she saw no reason to go to the bother preferring to be stealthy and not reveal herself, but here she was conversing with her dinner and seeking to win it over to her service. Actually it was pleading its case to be of use for the notion would never have occurred to her until it planted it in her brain. Weary of a trick, she weighed the pros and cons carefully deciding in the end that she could eat it later if it did not deliver.
Sufficiently cowed into obedience, the Hollow served her well even helping her to win over other low level kin to enter into her service. Her terms were simple, if you want food work for me, if not I will eat you. Mistakes will also get you eaten, the only option is to serve me and do a good job. Naturally from time to time she did have to terminate their service but this was completely in alignment with their agreement. Now and then one of the pack would begin to show signs of growing strength and earn its swift reward for being such an overachiever. It was rather like farming, now that she thought of it, or like the humans did with raising cattle. Even so the hunting grounds about her lair were producing less and less sustenance and the nagging thought began to enter her mind that she would have to move.
She put it off as long as she possibly could, even after consuming the last of her ‘cattle’, but it was just something she could no longer deny. The cursed hunger forced her to wedge her bulk out of her lair and send out her minions before her seeking for better lands. She found a new lair eventually, the cycle doomed to just repeat itself, and as the years passed she migrated south-eastward to the coast. In long stillness she pondered the watery wasteland before her giving way to despair. Her minions swarmed around her inert form as she imagined her glorious demise here at the edge of the world. Teetering on the edge, she fell into the sea, her minions swarming round about her. The five of them formed a raft beneath her as she refused to take them back into her body no matter how much they squirmed against her form. Waiting for a death that never came, the currents took her to the coast of a new land; Japan.
It was with utter disgust and a sense of futility she climbed from the water onto that rocky shore. She couldn’t even muster up a good death. It was just too much work. Resigned to her pointless fate, she was lured by her minions toward yet another promising location that she would no doubt deplete of all viable food sources before having to relocate herself again. Still, the new cavern was nicely located upon the outskirts of the bustling town and she could always throw herself into the sea again if she could muster up the energy for the walk. Though perhaps if there ever was a next time she should absorb her minions first.
Thus the creature came to Karakura Town and set up her new lair. Only things were different, or maybe she was what was different she was unsure of the cause, but there was a noticeable vitality in the region of a strength she had never experienced before. It was both alarming and rewarding for while the reliable availability of food in the area was nice, she discovered that just as she was more evolved than others, so too there were those that were greater than she. She would have to be even more circumspect than before.
Worst of all was the visions she viewed through the eyes of her spawn of robed figures These new predators were odd and dangerous in ways she had never imagined. They did not kill to live, never eating their prey, they just killed to destroy. Slowly the thought began to form in her mind that she might need to gather more hollow about herself, not to eat upon but to live beside in case the reapers came in the night to destroy her miserable existence.
