Post by Iko on Jul 18, 2018 19:59:28 GMT -5
Echoing chatter.
Somewhere in the depths of the Forest of Menos a figure crossed out of the trees. a door formed from ebony and gnarled wood closed behind him, these secret passageways that Hollow had long forgotten, twisting paths that Arrancar couldn’t hope to navigate they were the savage beast ways of the Forest of Menos.
Adjuchas dropped from the trees surrounding the figure who was garbed in black, the only identifiable feature was this Hollow’s damned mask and that hypnotizing smile. These Adjuchas had done it for a while - ambushing Gillian Menos who used the beast ways as a means of exiting the garganta safely, this figure however? He wasn’t a menos.
One of the Hollow stepped forward and lifted a talon in the direction of the stranger, but was stopped short, a cold feeling had brushed against it’s psyche and it pulled it’s talon back. The five of them were weary now, this wasn’t a Gillian Menos. . . this was . . .
A Vasto Lorde.
The dark shadow hanging from the figure’s shoulders leapt outwards.
They screamed.
It . . .
----
A three letter name. It meant many things to the Hollow of Hueco Mundo. It meant power, it meant longing and it meant fear. Shinigami feared Hollow, that was why they hated them so; they killed and they killed and they executed Hollow after Hollow, simply for fear of what they were. But what did Hollow fear? For a long time now a singular word had described their most primal horror - “Iko”
The monster under the bed, the shadow that lurked in the hearts of the Hollow; the Arrancar of Las Noches had simply assumed he’d been killed. They’d sent squads to dry draw him out and eventually they’d given up on searching. When the plague had happened - what a joke that was. a small subsect of Arrancar had tried again, delving into the forests of Hueco Mundo, asking where the Hollow that they associated with fear hid, to no avail.
It seemed the Hollow known as Iko was simply gone; lost like dust on the wind. A forgotten name that simply became associated with terror. So as the cycle continued, as new Hollow and Arrancar rose and replaced those who also chose to become nameless, Iko’s name became a tale that Arrancar would tell their apprentices to simply terrify them.
But this . . . ?
----
An Arrancar ran through the twisting corridors of Las Noches, his footsteps pounding against stone. He pushed his way through Arrancar that were lazily leaning against walls and tripped on outstretched legs.
A bulky glutton of an Arrancar grabbed him by his neck as he ran passed.
“Why are you running? What’s the hurry? The Shinigami are in shambles, we won for once?”
Wide-eyed and petrified the Arrancar whose pupil were as large as dinner plates gasped a few garbled words “Don’t you hear it?” the terrified man said as he escaped the grasp of his captor and continued fleeing down the corridor.
The bulky glutton turned with his friends, towards the shadowy corridor and they could hear it now, a maddened chanting, a cacophony of voices that sent shivers up their necks. The same word repeated.
“Iko”
And in the background?
A single demented sound, coming from a single source - laughter.
----
The hounds ran the Arrancar down at the entrance, they leapt from the walls and their swords simply weren’t drawn fast enough before snapping jaws hungrily devoured the savory flesh. Yes these were Adjuchas, but not the Adjuchas class Hollow that were common to Las Noches. These were savage beings, driven mad and beaten into the mud, these hounds were Iko’s harbingers, Hollow who had travelled too far into the winding secret back passages of the Forest of Menos.
Some Arrancar had already felt it, an almost maddening presence, a primal sensation that drilled it’s way into their bones. The fools who had drawn their swords were simply morsels for the hounds, but those who stopped and began to drum the relentless beat that was now permeating their sensitive minds? They were spared.
A single beat.
Over and over.
“Iko”
Arrancar in harmony, rhymically slamming the same word over and over into the stone of the old fortress. No longer a name they associated with fear, but a name they associated with something else. . . a second coming.
The hounds? Raving mad with glee at the blood they’d hunted down for their master, turned on the Arrancar they left chanting - they knew the name, it was carved into their bones - one by one they vanished deeper into the fortress.
----
A banner hung from the Primera Tower library, ancient and dusty. It depicted an old Vasto Lorde with two Hollow birds sitting on his shoulders. Dust from the banner was shaken free - somewhere in the deep recesses of Hollow memory, this tapestry had not been desecrated - just forgotten.
---
A cowardly insect curled itself up on the Las Noches throne. She who had taken the crown and ordered that all others obey her. She who was supposedly strong. But she heard it, he could smell the sweat starting to steadily pour off her.
The rampant chanting grew louder with each passing moment as the Arrancar that had once called her Queen did not come to her for protection, but rather fell into the bang and clamor of the chant. The thumping? What was that incessant thumping? He could see her block her ears now, trying to drive it off.
Shakily she stood by her throne, a hand clasping on that godforsaken handle of that blade that symbolized so much. The zankaputo the Shinigami called them and Arrancar had adopted the name, a symbol of “higher being” the Arrancar flaunted. A symbol of intelligence. Some would argue that Arrancar were stronger than Hollow, they were wrong.
Somewhere a voice in another reality spoke.
“If Aizen Sosuke had ten Vasto Lorde under him, Soul Society would fall”
Iko did not know who Aizen Sosuke was, but after his . . . . evolution. The incessant chattering of the masses had been replaced with these bouts of reflection. Whispers from other worlds. Were the threads of reality falling apart? Had something tragic happened in the universe? He did not question it.
The Queen raised her sword as an Arrancar ran into the hall and collapsed on the floor in a heap. She dropped the blade questioningly. Her name? Iko did not know.
“What are you doing here? Are you here to guard your queen?”
“Save me” the Arrancar echoed in response, tears streaming down and passed his mask fragments, sweat dripping in pools on the ground and his fingers bleeding as they scraped for purchase against the ground, his flesh being torn free of bone.
The Queen collecting herself now walked towards the Arrancar and thrust her Zankaputo into his body, the Arrancar grew still and collapsed as she sheathed her blade, she walked back to the throne. She was okay. There was no monster here. No godforsaken children’s story. No Iko.
“Save me”
She stopped, her face mortified, she turned to the Arrancar who now stood in front of her, the wound oozing a black liquid, the substance pooling onto the ground. The Queen’s instincts got the better of her, a cero so reactionary that it vaporized anything between her and the entrance to the throne room.
Shadows coiled from all corners of the room lapping towards the center, they pooled together twisting and forming into a figure. It’s skin was black, oily and reptilian. Human-sized but it’s skin seemed to shift and shimmer, forming and reforming. The white mask glowed on his face, a twisted smile but no other distinguishable features.
The Queen drew her sword and ran at Iko, her reiatsu flaring in an attempt to squash the outpouring of his.
Ah, adrenaline. . . he missed it.
Iko caught the blade in the air with an effortless flick of his arm. He extracted the weapon from her grip and pushed her toppling back into the throne. Holding the edge of the blade lightly, the fantastic smile turned in her direction, head tilting curiously.
“You thought you could kill me”
A statement. Not a question.
The stunned Queen looked at the abomination in front of her, her people had forgotten Hollow, had thought them weak. In truth they were right, it was rare that a Hollow grew that strong, that a Hollow became that terrifying.
“Hollow do not have power. . . ” she admitted.
“Ah, but I am not just a Hollow” the Hollow answered, it’s smile growing wider. Iko’s grip on the blade grew tighter. Graceful but powerful. Terrifying . . . what was he called again back in the day? A monster.
“Vasto Lorde” she echoed. Her voice seemed so distant now. Was she considering her choices up to now?
Iko threw the blade at her, pinning her to the throne.
“I’ve been waiting a while you know. Travelling the beast ways, learning the deep speech that Hollow long forgot. But Arrancar wouldn’t know anything about those” he whispered musing, taking step after unnatural step towards his victim. His shadow cast in five directions, a light burned in his very soul that distorted even shadow.
“But a voice said - a voice that I think most Hollow had forgotten, truth is I - I don’t know whom the voice belongs to. Do you know what it said?” his hand rested on the hilt of Zankaputo, the energy was already draining from the Queen from the force of the throw.
“It said Yaksha, it said Titus, it said. . . “ he tore the Zankaputo free of her body tossing the corpse the length of the hall and sent the blade flying as well.
“. . . Iko”
The Vasto Lorde sat.
His hounds feasted on her remains.
The Hollow laughed.
“King”
Is. . .
. . . That . . .
. . . Iko?
Somewhere in the depths of the Forest of Menos a figure crossed out of the trees. a door formed from ebony and gnarled wood closed behind him, these secret passageways that Hollow had long forgotten, twisting paths that Arrancar couldn’t hope to navigate they were the savage beast ways of the Forest of Menos.
Adjuchas dropped from the trees surrounding the figure who was garbed in black, the only identifiable feature was this Hollow’s damned mask and that hypnotizing smile. These Adjuchas had done it for a while - ambushing Gillian Menos who used the beast ways as a means of exiting the garganta safely, this figure however? He wasn’t a menos.
One of the Hollow stepped forward and lifted a talon in the direction of the stranger, but was stopped short, a cold feeling had brushed against it’s psyche and it pulled it’s talon back. The five of them were weary now, this wasn’t a Gillian Menos. . . this was . . .
A Vasto Lorde.
The dark shadow hanging from the figure’s shoulders leapt outwards.
They screamed.
It . . .
. . . Is . . .
. . . Iko
----
A three letter name. It meant many things to the Hollow of Hueco Mundo. It meant power, it meant longing and it meant fear. Shinigami feared Hollow, that was why they hated them so; they killed and they killed and they executed Hollow after Hollow, simply for fear of what they were. But what did Hollow fear? For a long time now a singular word had described their most primal horror - “Iko”
The monster under the bed, the shadow that lurked in the hearts of the Hollow; the Arrancar of Las Noches had simply assumed he’d been killed. They’d sent squads to dry draw him out and eventually they’d given up on searching. When the plague had happened - what a joke that was. a small subsect of Arrancar had tried again, delving into the forests of Hueco Mundo, asking where the Hollow that they associated with fear hid, to no avail.
It seemed the Hollow known as Iko was simply gone; lost like dust on the wind. A forgotten name that simply became associated with terror. So as the cycle continued, as new Hollow and Arrancar rose and replaced those who also chose to become nameless, Iko’s name became a tale that Arrancar would tell their apprentices to simply terrify them.
But this . . . ?
----
An Arrancar ran through the twisting corridors of Las Noches, his footsteps pounding against stone. He pushed his way through Arrancar that were lazily leaning against walls and tripped on outstretched legs.
A bulky glutton of an Arrancar grabbed him by his neck as he ran passed.
“Why are you running? What’s the hurry? The Shinigami are in shambles, we won for once?”
Wide-eyed and petrified the Arrancar whose pupil were as large as dinner plates gasped a few garbled words “Don’t you hear it?” the terrified man said as he escaped the grasp of his captor and continued fleeing down the corridor.
The bulky glutton turned with his friends, towards the shadowy corridor and they could hear it now, a maddened chanting, a cacophony of voices that sent shivers up their necks. The same word repeated.
“Iko”
And in the background?
A single demented sound, coming from a single source - laughter.
----
The hounds ran the Arrancar down at the entrance, they leapt from the walls and their swords simply weren’t drawn fast enough before snapping jaws hungrily devoured the savory flesh. Yes these were Adjuchas, but not the Adjuchas class Hollow that were common to Las Noches. These were savage beings, driven mad and beaten into the mud, these hounds were Iko’s harbingers, Hollow who had travelled too far into the winding secret back passages of the Forest of Menos.
Some Arrancar had already felt it, an almost maddening presence, a primal sensation that drilled it’s way into their bones. The fools who had drawn their swords were simply morsels for the hounds, but those who stopped and began to drum the relentless beat that was now permeating their sensitive minds? They were spared.
A single beat.
Over and over.
“Iko”
Arrancar in harmony, rhymically slamming the same word over and over into the stone of the old fortress. No longer a name they associated with fear, but a name they associated with something else. . . a second coming.
The hounds? Raving mad with glee at the blood they’d hunted down for their master, turned on the Arrancar they left chanting - they knew the name, it was carved into their bones - one by one they vanished deeper into the fortress.
----
A banner hung from the Primera Tower library, ancient and dusty. It depicted an old Vasto Lorde with two Hollow birds sitting on his shoulders. Dust from the banner was shaken free - somewhere in the deep recesses of Hollow memory, this tapestry had not been desecrated - just forgotten.
---
A cowardly insect curled itself up on the Las Noches throne. She who had taken the crown and ordered that all others obey her. She who was supposedly strong. But she heard it, he could smell the sweat starting to steadily pour off her.
The rampant chanting grew louder with each passing moment as the Arrancar that had once called her Queen did not come to her for protection, but rather fell into the bang and clamor of the chant. The thumping? What was that incessant thumping? He could see her block her ears now, trying to drive it off.
Shakily she stood by her throne, a hand clasping on that godforsaken handle of that blade that symbolized so much. The zankaputo the Shinigami called them and Arrancar had adopted the name, a symbol of “higher being” the Arrancar flaunted. A symbol of intelligence. Some would argue that Arrancar were stronger than Hollow, they were wrong.
Somewhere a voice in another reality spoke.
“If Aizen Sosuke had ten Vasto Lorde under him, Soul Society would fall”
Iko did not know who Aizen Sosuke was, but after his . . . . evolution. The incessant chattering of the masses had been replaced with these bouts of reflection. Whispers from other worlds. Were the threads of reality falling apart? Had something tragic happened in the universe? He did not question it.
The Queen raised her sword as an Arrancar ran into the hall and collapsed on the floor in a heap. She dropped the blade questioningly. Her name? Iko did not know.
“What are you doing here? Are you here to guard your queen?”
“Save me” the Arrancar echoed in response, tears streaming down and passed his mask fragments, sweat dripping in pools on the ground and his fingers bleeding as they scraped for purchase against the ground, his flesh being torn free of bone.
The Queen collecting herself now walked towards the Arrancar and thrust her Zankaputo into his body, the Arrancar grew still and collapsed as she sheathed her blade, she walked back to the throne. She was okay. There was no monster here. No godforsaken children’s story. No Iko.
“Save me”
She stopped, her face mortified, she turned to the Arrancar who now stood in front of her, the wound oozing a black liquid, the substance pooling onto the ground. The Queen’s instincts got the better of her, a cero so reactionary that it vaporized anything between her and the entrance to the throne room.
At last.
Peace.
Even the banging had died down.
Even the chanting had vanished.
The laughter?
It was silent.
“See?” She said out loud. Her voice echoing in the throne room.
“Iko is an old wives tale”
. . . .
. . . .
. . . .
“Am I?”
Shadows coiled from all corners of the room lapping towards the center, they pooled together twisting and forming into a figure. It’s skin was black, oily and reptilian. Human-sized but it’s skin seemed to shift and shimmer, forming and reforming. The white mask glowed on his face, a twisted smile but no other distinguishable features.
The Queen drew her sword and ran at Iko, her reiatsu flaring in an attempt to squash the outpouring of his.
Ah, adrenaline. . . he missed it.
Iko caught the blade in the air with an effortless flick of his arm. He extracted the weapon from her grip and pushed her toppling back into the throne. Holding the edge of the blade lightly, the fantastic smile turned in her direction, head tilting curiously.
“You thought you could kill me”
A statement. Not a question.
The stunned Queen looked at the abomination in front of her, her people had forgotten Hollow, had thought them weak. In truth they were right, it was rare that a Hollow grew that strong, that a Hollow became that terrifying.
“Hollow do not have power. . . ” she admitted.
“Ah, but I am not just a Hollow” the Hollow answered, it’s smile growing wider. Iko’s grip on the blade grew tighter. Graceful but powerful. Terrifying . . . what was he called again back in the day? A monster.
“Vasto Lorde” she echoed. Her voice seemed so distant now. Was she considering her choices up to now?
Iko threw the blade at her, pinning her to the throne.
“I’ve been waiting a while you know. Travelling the beast ways, learning the deep speech that Hollow long forgot. But Arrancar wouldn’t know anything about those” he whispered musing, taking step after unnatural step towards his victim. His shadow cast in five directions, a light burned in his very soul that distorted even shadow.
“But a voice said - a voice that I think most Hollow had forgotten, truth is I - I don’t know whom the voice belongs to. Do you know what it said?” his hand rested on the hilt of Zankaputo, the energy was already draining from the Queen from the force of the throw.
“It said Yaksha, it said Titus, it said. . . “ he tore the Zankaputo free of her body tossing the corpse the length of the hall and sent the blade flying as well.
“. . . Iko”
The Vasto Lorde sat.
His hounds feasted on her remains.
The Hollow laughed.
“King”
