Post by Machie on Jun 21, 2018 22:31:04 GMT -5
After the disaster with Merrick, Machie returned to her disjointed yet harsh training schedule. She dragged herself from bed at about four in the morning and woke up with a cold shower before slipping into the kitchens to eat something quick (the mess hall was all but deserted at this hour). Rice was one of the few things she could keep down. Afterwards she made her way to the training center. It was relatively empty and quiet at this time of night, perfect for Machie’s isolationist preferences.
The slim woman made her way to the floating platforms used for speed practice and balance. Her strengths, it seemed, were running away and evasion. It did her little good considering how slow she was, but that wasn’t permanent, or, at least, it didn’t have to be.
Machie took a few deep breaths to center herself and attempt to banish Merrick’s harsh words from her mind.
He was an idiot when it came to anything related to being social or emotional, she concluded, but that didn’t mean the medic was wrong when he called her weak.
Irritation drew her lips into a firm line. Her brows knit and her body tensed before Machie launched herself forwards. There was no point in looking back; she didn’t want to keep reliving the mistakes she’d made so far. Pursuing her past had lead to a nasty shock and the dark skinned woman didn’t know if she could bear to revisit it.
So, despite the lingering shame, Machie continued to run. Bursts of spiritual energy fueled her leaps between platforms. She continued to sprint and jump until her lungs ached and her sides were sore. Her legs bent beneath the momentum she’d generated as she came to a stop before her knees hit the platform. Machie’s palms slapped the surface as she caught herself, upper body having pitched forward.
The thin woman used her sleeve to wipe sweat from her forehead and tried to blink away the salt from it dripping into her eyes.
“Is this all I can do?” she questioned aloud.
Her sides contracted painfully as the woman wheezed and her head pounded in time with her pulse.
With a growl, Machie forced herself to her feet and left the area. She returned to her room in the barracks for another shower, a lukewarm one this time. In fresh clothing once more, she left the Fifth’s grounds just as the sky bled red and orange with the sunrise.
For a moment, the feline woman allowed herself to bask in the warmth of the sun. She tilted her head back and let her eyes drift shut. The grim expression on her face relaxed, and tension she had forgotten knotted between her shoulders loosened a little.
Vague memories of a pale girl and a young boy with an afro at her side basking in the warmth of a fireplace made the woman wince.
The coolness of the air prickling at her skin reminded her that even this was a pale imitation of the life she once lived.
Pinched expression returned to its rightful place on her countenance, Machie hurried away to the butterfly gardens. She was tending to the Hell Butterflies again.
It was a mission below even her meager skills, but the feline woman hardly trusted herself to do anything more challenging. The dark skinned shinigami occasionally went out to perform konsou with other members of her division, but left the more combat oriented tasks she should have been pursuing to when her superiors got impatient. Getting smacked around by powerful hollows on a previous outing with Merrick only solidified the effect of his harsh words.
Why should someone so weak go out on dangerous missions to fight enemies she could never hope to overpower on her own?
The Hell Butterflies didn’t need too much care. Sugar water, flowers, and fermented fruit kept them relatively happy. The insects fluttered about the brightly colored garden like shadows. A few danced around Machie’s head while she watered plants and pulled weeds. There was something comforting about menial tasks that even she couldn’t mess up.
Once her work was done, Machie found a lilac tree and crawled beneath its expansive branches. She had to lay on her belly to scoot underneath, but there was a bit more space closer to the trunk, enough for the woman to sit up. She wasn’t terribly large, only five foot six and too thin for her modest height. Machie sat with a hunched posture to accomodate for the thin branches resting around her head and shoulders, laden with white flowers that smelled sweet.
Her eyes were half lidded, drifting about aimlessly as she observed the Hell Butterflies.
“They’re so carefree,” the feline woman mumbled to herself. A sigh followed and begrudgingly began to tune out her surroundings.
The relaxing atmosphere of the Hell Moth gardens allowed for Machie to slip into her inner world within half an hour. It was her favorite place to meditate.
The sitting room Machie found herself in once her eyes opened was familiar. She sat near the hearth and grabbed a poker so she could stoke the fire.
On the couch behind her, a small cat lay with her paws tucked beneath her body, tail wrapped tightly around her frame.
The cat didn’t speak, it barely acknowledged Machie’s presence.
The feline woman didn’t even press Nasima for attention, seemingly content to stare into the flames.
Photographs lined the mantel above the flames, depicting the people who had once been her family. The glass over the photo of a young woman at an easel, her fingers smudged with charcoal, was broken. In a fit of uncharacteristic anger, the feline woman had thrown it some weeks ago.
“I still don’t…” Machie broke the silence, but cut herself off. What was the point of talking to the being behind her? There would be no reply.
The fire flared suddenly, nearly burning the shinigami’s fingers.
“You ignore me, why should I talk?” Machie asked sullenly, without turning to face her zanpakuto spirit.
The annoyance of her sword spirit was almost tangible.
Machie set the poker aside and twisted her torso to face Nasima.
“I couldn’t do it. You already know that. It isn’t like you weren’t there to see it. I’m weak and it feels as though I am powerless to change that. I shouldn’t want to go back and yet….”
Machie turned back to the fire.
“It’s all I can think of. I don’t know how to say goodbye,” she mumbled.
The pressure withdrew. The dark skinned woman could hear Nasima licking her paws.
“What good does it do to tell you any of this? Should I just go back? Find them? There’s nothing there for me. There can’t be.”
Machie let herself fade from the sitting room, though she was loathe to leave its warmth. Her conversations with Nasima had gone on in this fashion since her argument with the medic. Machie had sulked, ranted, and even thrown a few temper tantrums, none of which impressed Nasima. The cat more or less let Machie do as she would with little response except to make her disapproval apparent when the woman got too annoying and restless.
The shinigami woman’s placid exterior belied her internal turmoil.
The rest of the day melted into half remembered moments as Machie mechanically proceeded to train until her body refused to hold her up. The countless punches, kicks, sit ups, push ups, and failed pull ups were hardly felt. Even the ache in her back as she lay on the floor of one of the exercise rooms in the training center seemed distant.
At some point, the dark skinned woman peeled herself from the floorboards.
She woke up on her simple futon in a nest of tangled blankets perhaps three hours after laying down.
Machie deviated from her normal routine after her second shower of the day, opting to take a patrol mission instead of tending to the Hell Butterflies.
She barely noted her patrol partner’s name and face. Their spiritual signature was distinct enough for the feline shinigami to recognize him later. He was tall, broad shouldered, and appeared distinctly displeased with her vague politeness.
Kenshin (or was it Kazue?) was all too happy to let Machie wander off to patrol a different section of the area they were supposed to watch over.
When they met up to head back, Machie greeted him with an almost-smile and followed him back to report on a successful mission.
When he thought she couldn’t hear, her mission partner leaned in to tell the dark haired woman sitting behind the desk, “It’s like they say. Taking missions with that one is so awkward.”
The dark skinned woman wondered if she should feel offended as she wandered off, debating between more meditation and running herself ragged again.
The next morning, Machie simply left the Fifth and started walking. She’d tempted fate by wandering out into Rukongai, or maybe she’d simply been flirting with the desire to go and relocate Tia. Perhaps feeling unwanted in her own division was enough to drive her out, even if it was pushing her towards her fears.
Was her little sister still living with Zechariah? Did her former siblings assume she was dead?
The sunlight had begun to fade by the time Machie was back in District Forty, where she’d been two and a half weeks ago. Aimlessly, the shinigami wandered through the crowds until she saw a familiar face.
“Adele, wait!”
Machie frowned. That hadn’t been her name in a long time. Nonetheless, she let the bronze skinned man run up to her.
“Is it really you?” he asked.
“Zechariah?” the thin woman’s voice wavered.
He nodded once, the fluffy hair adorning his head bobbing with the motion.
“Supongo que sí. Ya no tengo las orejas. Ojála que me creas.*” Her ability to speak Spanish was one of the few identity markers she had left since her last life. What happened between her disappearance and her second awakening in Rukongai was a mystery, for most intents and purposes she effectively had died.
“It is!” The man engulfed the woman in a tight hug that made it hard to breathe.
Machie smiled, even as her arms were pinned to her sides, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m so happy I found you.”
Zechariah whisked Machie away to a small house atop bricks with a sloping roof. The bronze skinned youth ahead of her slid the shoji and invited Machie inside.
The feline woman stepped over the threshold and slid off her sandals.
Zechariah rushed into the house after her, barely pausing to kicking off his sandals before shouting, “Tia! Come’ere!”
Quick, but light footsteps preceded the appearance of the pale young woman who she’d seen in the streets the last time she’d set foot in District Forty.
In a flash of blue robes and black hair, Tia was on Machie, arms wrapped tightly around her older sister.
Machie froze at the sudden contact, but relaxed, smiling fondly.
“I missed you!” Tia cried out happily.
The dark skinned woman’s throat tightened, but she managed to speak. “I... I missed you, too.”
The shorter woman took a step back and let her dark brown eyes trail over Machie, taking in her appearance.
“Adele, what happened to you? You’ve gotten even skinnier!”
“Come on, we can talk about it over tea. I can reheat the ramen Tia made the other night if you’ll stay for dinner.”
“Of course she’s staying,” the pale woman declared. She grasped Machie’s hand and led her to their modest dining room, urging her older sister to take a seat on a cushion at the low table in the center of the room.
Before she could process what was happening, Machie had a steaming cup of tea pushed into her hands. The rich scent of the spices and milk Tia had used to brew the tea made her mouth water. She took a sip.
“What is this?”
Tia’s smile wavered and her eyes glistened at the look of wonder on her elder sister’s face.
“It’s your favorite tea, chai,” the young woman explained.
Machie nodded and continued to sip at her drink, glancing at her younger siblings’ faces in an attempt to get a read on how they expected her to act.
“I… I don’t remember everything,” the shinigami informed them quietly. “I am not sure what happened to me, I woke up in Rukongai and my body was different. I didn’t remember anything. It took me over a year to realize who I was… who I had been…”
“Nee-chan…” Tia frowned in concern, reaching out to set a hand on Machie’s.
The dark skinned woman twitched, but managed to suppress the urge to flinch away if only just barely.
“I am not used to a lot of physical contact.”
An awkward silence settled between them as the younger woman withdrew her hand.
“Adele,” Zechariah began, “where have you been?”
“I joined the Gotei, or I suppose I should say I re-joined. I haven’t done much there except try to remember… it was all I could think of.”
That name… Machie frowned. “I have a new name now. It’s Machie.”
“Okay, Nee-san. We’ll try to remember that,” Tia replied with an encouraging smile. “We’re just so happy you’re home. We thought you were dead.”
Machie nodded and smiled, content that she had indeed found her home.
2245
The slim woman made her way to the floating platforms used for speed practice and balance. Her strengths, it seemed, were running away and evasion. It did her little good considering how slow she was, but that wasn’t permanent, or, at least, it didn’t have to be.
Machie took a few deep breaths to center herself and attempt to banish Merrick’s harsh words from her mind.
He was an idiot when it came to anything related to being social or emotional, she concluded, but that didn’t mean the medic was wrong when he called her weak.
Irritation drew her lips into a firm line. Her brows knit and her body tensed before Machie launched herself forwards. There was no point in looking back; she didn’t want to keep reliving the mistakes she’d made so far. Pursuing her past had lead to a nasty shock and the dark skinned woman didn’t know if she could bear to revisit it.
So, despite the lingering shame, Machie continued to run. Bursts of spiritual energy fueled her leaps between platforms. She continued to sprint and jump until her lungs ached and her sides were sore. Her legs bent beneath the momentum she’d generated as she came to a stop before her knees hit the platform. Machie’s palms slapped the surface as she caught herself, upper body having pitched forward.
The thin woman used her sleeve to wipe sweat from her forehead and tried to blink away the salt from it dripping into her eyes.
“Is this all I can do?” she questioned aloud.
Her sides contracted painfully as the woman wheezed and her head pounded in time with her pulse.
With a growl, Machie forced herself to her feet and left the area. She returned to her room in the barracks for another shower, a lukewarm one this time. In fresh clothing once more, she left the Fifth’s grounds just as the sky bled red and orange with the sunrise.
For a moment, the feline woman allowed herself to bask in the warmth of the sun. She tilted her head back and let her eyes drift shut. The grim expression on her face relaxed, and tension she had forgotten knotted between her shoulders loosened a little.
Vague memories of a pale girl and a young boy with an afro at her side basking in the warmth of a fireplace made the woman wince.
The coolness of the air prickling at her skin reminded her that even this was a pale imitation of the life she once lived.
Pinched expression returned to its rightful place on her countenance, Machie hurried away to the butterfly gardens. She was tending to the Hell Butterflies again.
It was a mission below even her meager skills, but the feline woman hardly trusted herself to do anything more challenging. The dark skinned shinigami occasionally went out to perform konsou with other members of her division, but left the more combat oriented tasks she should have been pursuing to when her superiors got impatient. Getting smacked around by powerful hollows on a previous outing with Merrick only solidified the effect of his harsh words.
Why should someone so weak go out on dangerous missions to fight enemies she could never hope to overpower on her own?
The Hell Butterflies didn’t need too much care. Sugar water, flowers, and fermented fruit kept them relatively happy. The insects fluttered about the brightly colored garden like shadows. A few danced around Machie’s head while she watered plants and pulled weeds. There was something comforting about menial tasks that even she couldn’t mess up.
Once her work was done, Machie found a lilac tree and crawled beneath its expansive branches. She had to lay on her belly to scoot underneath, but there was a bit more space closer to the trunk, enough for the woman to sit up. She wasn’t terribly large, only five foot six and too thin for her modest height. Machie sat with a hunched posture to accomodate for the thin branches resting around her head and shoulders, laden with white flowers that smelled sweet.
Her eyes were half lidded, drifting about aimlessly as she observed the Hell Butterflies.
“They’re so carefree,” the feline woman mumbled to herself. A sigh followed and begrudgingly began to tune out her surroundings.
The relaxing atmosphere of the Hell Moth gardens allowed for Machie to slip into her inner world within half an hour. It was her favorite place to meditate.
The sitting room Machie found herself in once her eyes opened was familiar. She sat near the hearth and grabbed a poker so she could stoke the fire.
On the couch behind her, a small cat lay with her paws tucked beneath her body, tail wrapped tightly around her frame.
The cat didn’t speak, it barely acknowledged Machie’s presence.
The feline woman didn’t even press Nasima for attention, seemingly content to stare into the flames.
Photographs lined the mantel above the flames, depicting the people who had once been her family. The glass over the photo of a young woman at an easel, her fingers smudged with charcoal, was broken. In a fit of uncharacteristic anger, the feline woman had thrown it some weeks ago.
“I still don’t…” Machie broke the silence, but cut herself off. What was the point of talking to the being behind her? There would be no reply.
The fire flared suddenly, nearly burning the shinigami’s fingers.
“You ignore me, why should I talk?” Machie asked sullenly, without turning to face her zanpakuto spirit.
The annoyance of her sword spirit was almost tangible.
Machie set the poker aside and twisted her torso to face Nasima.
“I couldn’t do it. You already know that. It isn’t like you weren’t there to see it. I’m weak and it feels as though I am powerless to change that. I shouldn’t want to go back and yet….”
Machie turned back to the fire.
“It’s all I can think of. I don’t know how to say goodbye,” she mumbled.
The pressure withdrew. The dark skinned woman could hear Nasima licking her paws.
“What good does it do to tell you any of this? Should I just go back? Find them? There’s nothing there for me. There can’t be.”
Machie let herself fade from the sitting room, though she was loathe to leave its warmth. Her conversations with Nasima had gone on in this fashion since her argument with the medic. Machie had sulked, ranted, and even thrown a few temper tantrums, none of which impressed Nasima. The cat more or less let Machie do as she would with little response except to make her disapproval apparent when the woman got too annoying and restless.
The shinigami woman’s placid exterior belied her internal turmoil.
The rest of the day melted into half remembered moments as Machie mechanically proceeded to train until her body refused to hold her up. The countless punches, kicks, sit ups, push ups, and failed pull ups were hardly felt. Even the ache in her back as she lay on the floor of one of the exercise rooms in the training center seemed distant.
At some point, the dark skinned woman peeled herself from the floorboards.
She woke up on her simple futon in a nest of tangled blankets perhaps three hours after laying down.
Machie deviated from her normal routine after her second shower of the day, opting to take a patrol mission instead of tending to the Hell Butterflies.
She barely noted her patrol partner’s name and face. Their spiritual signature was distinct enough for the feline shinigami to recognize him later. He was tall, broad shouldered, and appeared distinctly displeased with her vague politeness.
Kenshin (or was it Kazue?) was all too happy to let Machie wander off to patrol a different section of the area they were supposed to watch over.
When they met up to head back, Machie greeted him with an almost-smile and followed him back to report on a successful mission.
When he thought she couldn’t hear, her mission partner leaned in to tell the dark haired woman sitting behind the desk, “It’s like they say. Taking missions with that one is so awkward.”
The dark skinned woman wondered if she should feel offended as she wandered off, debating between more meditation and running herself ragged again.
The next morning, Machie simply left the Fifth and started walking. She’d tempted fate by wandering out into Rukongai, or maybe she’d simply been flirting with the desire to go and relocate Tia. Perhaps feeling unwanted in her own division was enough to drive her out, even if it was pushing her towards her fears.
Was her little sister still living with Zechariah? Did her former siblings assume she was dead?
The sunlight had begun to fade by the time Machie was back in District Forty, where she’d been two and a half weeks ago. Aimlessly, the shinigami wandered through the crowds until she saw a familiar face.
“Adele, wait!”
Machie frowned. That hadn’t been her name in a long time. Nonetheless, she let the bronze skinned man run up to her.
“Is it really you?” he asked.
“Zechariah?” the thin woman’s voice wavered.
He nodded once, the fluffy hair adorning his head bobbing with the motion.
“Supongo que sí. Ya no tengo las orejas. Ojála que me creas.*” Her ability to speak Spanish was one of the few identity markers she had left since her last life. What happened between her disappearance and her second awakening in Rukongai was a mystery, for most intents and purposes she effectively had died.
“It is!” The man engulfed the woman in a tight hug that made it hard to breathe.
Machie smiled, even as her arms were pinned to her sides, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m so happy I found you.”
Zechariah whisked Machie away to a small house atop bricks with a sloping roof. The bronze skinned youth ahead of her slid the shoji and invited Machie inside.
The feline woman stepped over the threshold and slid off her sandals.
Zechariah rushed into the house after her, barely pausing to kicking off his sandals before shouting, “Tia! Come’ere!”
Quick, but light footsteps preceded the appearance of the pale young woman who she’d seen in the streets the last time she’d set foot in District Forty.
In a flash of blue robes and black hair, Tia was on Machie, arms wrapped tightly around her older sister.
Machie froze at the sudden contact, but relaxed, smiling fondly.
“I missed you!” Tia cried out happily.
The dark skinned woman’s throat tightened, but she managed to speak. “I... I missed you, too.”
The shorter woman took a step back and let her dark brown eyes trail over Machie, taking in her appearance.
“Adele, what happened to you? You’ve gotten even skinnier!”
“Come on, we can talk about it over tea. I can reheat the ramen Tia made the other night if you’ll stay for dinner.”
“Of course she’s staying,” the pale woman declared. She grasped Machie’s hand and led her to their modest dining room, urging her older sister to take a seat on a cushion at the low table in the center of the room.
Before she could process what was happening, Machie had a steaming cup of tea pushed into her hands. The rich scent of the spices and milk Tia had used to brew the tea made her mouth water. She took a sip.
“What is this?”
Tia’s smile wavered and her eyes glistened at the look of wonder on her elder sister’s face.
“It’s your favorite tea, chai,” the young woman explained.
Machie nodded and continued to sip at her drink, glancing at her younger siblings’ faces in an attempt to get a read on how they expected her to act.
“I… I don’t remember everything,” the shinigami informed them quietly. “I am not sure what happened to me, I woke up in Rukongai and my body was different. I didn’t remember anything. It took me over a year to realize who I was… who I had been…”
“Nee-chan…” Tia frowned in concern, reaching out to set a hand on Machie’s.
The dark skinned woman twitched, but managed to suppress the urge to flinch away if only just barely.
“I am not used to a lot of physical contact.”
An awkward silence settled between them as the younger woman withdrew her hand.
“Adele,” Zechariah began, “where have you been?”
“I joined the Gotei, or I suppose I should say I re-joined. I haven’t done much there except try to remember… it was all I could think of.”
That name… Machie frowned. “I have a new name now. It’s Machie.”
“Okay, Nee-san. We’ll try to remember that,” Tia replied with an encouraging smile. “We’re just so happy you’re home. We thought you were dead.”
Machie nodded and smiled, content that she had indeed found her home.
2245
I suppose so. I don't have the ears anymore. I hope you can believe me