Post by Mirabelle Bonnet on Feb 13, 2018 12:39:10 GMT -5
A swath of flame erupted from a slender outstretched hand, the flames burning away the garden's overgrowth with a vengeance. It'd been some months since she was last able to tend to the garden properly. The space had once been so well kept that Kasumi had even commented about how lucky she was to have it as part of her division. Taking a few steps further into the pace, she couldn't keep herself from thinking about what had happened since. It had begun not unlike the weeds that now overran the garden. Someone, she wasn't sure who, had been infected with some sort of illness. They'd slowly, and she could only imagine painfully, lost their sense of self before their soul was eaten away and they died. That one person was easily missed. As easily missed as one weed in an entire garden.
But weeds spread. One infected person turned into two. Two into four. Four into fourteen. Fourteen into two hundred and so on. It never stopped. Never slept. It had begun with lapses in memory easily chalked up to one's normal behavior. It progressed as the illness took root until the whole of the host was consumed by the illness, even extending to the zanpakuto. Countless shinigami had come into the hospital with their eyes wide with fear as they, with a shaky voice, confirmed that they too had the rust on their blade. Some that came in were nothing more but recruits. Every single one she'd heard of being infected had died. The bodies were still piling up now and she could only hope that the illness was nearing its end. Mirabelle knew she couldn't be sure though. After all, those who were left were still trying to carry on with at least some of their duties. No one was left to do a census. In the thick of it all, she'd asked those in the hospital who were willing to to work on a cure. Some had stayed. Others fled. In the end she wasn't sure it had mattered because most of those who'd been a part of her division at the beginning had wound up dead.
Ash broke its form underfoot until it was but a smudge as she walked the uneven ground of the courtyard. She couldn't help but draw an eerie parallel between her current surroundings and the view of her inner world. Cracked walls, collapsed buildings, dead bodies aplenty, it was certainly something her spirit could have designed. Shaking the feeling off, she moved forward. Always forward. The redhead knew that in the end this too would pass, even if it did shake her to her core.
Some change in the air, be it pressure or flow, threw her senses into overdrive for a few moments. Her train of thought was entirely derailed as she cast her attention in the direction of the perceived disturbance. The building before her was now a decrepit thing. An office building that was good for little more than storage to those that were left in the division proper. The place was a mess from what she remembered. It had seemed almost ransacked the last time she'd gone through it, those who's offices that had been there evacuated in a hurry and those that were left didn't care enough about it to make sure the place was kept up well.
As she made her way over to it something struck her. The presence that she felt inside of the building was familiar and the spells she could sense were something she understood well. She prayed she wasn't too late as she pressed on into the building. All manner of sigils and spells lined the walls, most of them protective in nature to prevent any stray magic from leaking out. At least the practitioner was being cautious, which was more than she could say she expected from most.
She breathed deeply just behind the only closed door she'd seen in the entire building. She hoped she was wrong. The magic she'd felt was dangerous and could easily tear apart someone who didn't know what they were doing. With a slight shove, she pushed the door open half way and slid in.
"Reyla?" her tone was low, hopefully enough to not scare the girl into making a mistake. "What are you doing?"
[WC: 723][TWC: 723]
But weeds spread. One infected person turned into two. Two into four. Four into fourteen. Fourteen into two hundred and so on. It never stopped. Never slept. It had begun with lapses in memory easily chalked up to one's normal behavior. It progressed as the illness took root until the whole of the host was consumed by the illness, even extending to the zanpakuto. Countless shinigami had come into the hospital with their eyes wide with fear as they, with a shaky voice, confirmed that they too had the rust on their blade. Some that came in were nothing more but recruits. Every single one she'd heard of being infected had died. The bodies were still piling up now and she could only hope that the illness was nearing its end. Mirabelle knew she couldn't be sure though. After all, those who were left were still trying to carry on with at least some of their duties. No one was left to do a census. In the thick of it all, she'd asked those in the hospital who were willing to to work on a cure. Some had stayed. Others fled. In the end she wasn't sure it had mattered because most of those who'd been a part of her division at the beginning had wound up dead.
Ash broke its form underfoot until it was but a smudge as she walked the uneven ground of the courtyard. She couldn't help but draw an eerie parallel between her current surroundings and the view of her inner world. Cracked walls, collapsed buildings, dead bodies aplenty, it was certainly something her spirit could have designed. Shaking the feeling off, she moved forward. Always forward. The redhead knew that in the end this too would pass, even if it did shake her to her core.
Some change in the air, be it pressure or flow, threw her senses into overdrive for a few moments. Her train of thought was entirely derailed as she cast her attention in the direction of the perceived disturbance. The building before her was now a decrepit thing. An office building that was good for little more than storage to those that were left in the division proper. The place was a mess from what she remembered. It had seemed almost ransacked the last time she'd gone through it, those who's offices that had been there evacuated in a hurry and those that were left didn't care enough about it to make sure the place was kept up well.
As she made her way over to it something struck her. The presence that she felt inside of the building was familiar and the spells she could sense were something she understood well. She prayed she wasn't too late as she pressed on into the building. All manner of sigils and spells lined the walls, most of them protective in nature to prevent any stray magic from leaking out. At least the practitioner was being cautious, which was more than she could say she expected from most.
She breathed deeply just behind the only closed door she'd seen in the entire building. She hoped she was wrong. The magic she'd felt was dangerous and could easily tear apart someone who didn't know what they were doing. With a slight shove, she pushed the door open half way and slid in.
"Reyla?" her tone was low, hopefully enough to not scare the girl into making a mistake. "What are you doing?"
[WC: 723][TWC: 723]
