Post by Barruku Ryou on Aug 25, 2010 22:29:00 GMT -5
Name: Barruku Ryou
Current Rank: 7th Espada
Desired Rank: 3rd~
Holder of desired rank: N/A?
Current Rank: 7th Espada
Desired Rank: 3rd~
Holder of desired rank: N/A?
Tap-Tap-Tap. The faint pitter-patter of steps could be heard going down the halls of Las Noches; the short strides guiding this Arrancar's walk were quick, but lacked range. Each worked hand-in-hand and compensated for the weakness presented in this walk. The result was a steady movement that allowed the user to get to where they needed in a few minutes without breaking form. It was uniform, and perfect in appearance. A little Marysue-ish, really, which wasn't the worse way to go. There was nothing wrong with striving for perfection, but who was to say it mattered? This Arrancar didn't believe in 'perfection'. It was a dream that no one could reach up to; an expectation that couldn't be grasped.
Click...Click
The Arrancar's soles met the ground for a final time. The heel of the Espada's sandal created yet another low tap, which seemed to linger before dying slowly. His right arm was extended to allow cold fingers to wrap around the handle to his room. His digits playing at the lustrous steal; the man tightened his grip on it before pulling back. His shoulder seemed to lock itself in place when he performed the movement; the sleeveless jacket allowed every toned muscle to make an appearance. The door opened slowly; a cool breeze taking the hall. His room held some horrible things, but all secrets were shrouded in darkness.
Barruku walked into the Darkness, and without a word being spoken; the black-screen accepted him. His figure faded with the endless abyss brought on by shadows. An all knowing power, for every light there was a dark. A Yin and a Yang for all aspects of life. The Espada knew this all too well; his life was plagued with the good and the bad. Sadly, it was forced downhill with each day; The good in all things was becoming hazy. He began to question if there was any Good in this world. No, of course not. Everyone is driven to Sin at one time or another. If there was any pleasure to be had it was through the pain of another, but he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it more than he probably should have.
His main sense of joy was derived from his need to inflict damage to another living being. A malicious man; he existed to make everyone beg for him. A select few were spared of his 'fun', his master, and anyone he considered a 'brother'. That was decided by a few key points, but he wouldn't reveal those, no. If they knew, they could feign interest, and act as he wanted. That of course was boring; a show of fear, and wouldn't get you far in his world. Barruku enjoyed terrorizing people; the man's optics being a hollow red, which only increased the level of fear inflicted on his victims. The soft tap of his sandals hitting the tile in his room could be heard, he was returning, but with what?
A Zanpakutou, but what was he doing with it? It wasn't his, that was obvious. The darn thing was way too small, and carried a few unique touches added to it. Which was strange seeing as Barruku kept his own Zanpakutou free of such adjustments. He didn't believe in flare; a dull case and blade did the job just fine. He strolled over to a door hidden within the darkness. The Espada knew his own room so the blind spots seemed visible, and clear to him. A vivid display, he could see it all as if it were under stadium lights. If you march around in the dark for a while, you will adapt to the darkness. The Septimo figured this out, and was on his way in no time.
The fingers that wrapped tightly around the blade's sheath were located on his left hand, which means he was carrying it in that hand, of course. His right hand was; however, being used to open the door in-front of him. A large steel door, which, in the light, resembled a miniature bank door. He placed his hand on the cold steel and let his reiatsu flood into it. The handle, and gears within turning and pulling to allow it to open up. A strong grinding was noticeable; the steel entrance sliding against cobblestone tile, which was only located on the inside of the door. A long hallway dripping with what looked like red-water was revealed. A steady stream of fog sliding from within, and pouring into his own room.
Barruku flashed from his position; a Sonido wasn't needed, really, but he decided he would clear the gap between one door and the next in one swoop. The familiar 'boom' followed before his body slinked back into the scene a second later. His fingers extended to allow a grip to be placed on the thinner, metal door. The same sliding noise resonated throughout the narrow hallway. The sound bounced back and forth between the walls, and managed to release a light echo. A mood-setter, really; it helped place all the pieces in the right place. The 'ceremony' was about to begin, and the Espada was happy about this. The time for work was over; the time for play was just about to begin~
"Bastar-"
A low hiss; it was nice, but a bit strained. The voice of someone who had been worked to exhaustion and then some. This wasn't the call of Barruku, no; he had remained emotionally distant from the world around him. His eyes glazed over as if he had checked out. It was like no one was home, and that might of been it. He didn't like zoning out, but he did at times. He didn't do it too often, which was probably a good thing on his part. In a world like his you would die if you so much as slipped up around someone of higher-power. The source of the voice was a female Arrancar, her body had been tied to a cross like board in Barruku's secret room. She was made to sit here, and freeze in the icy conditions provided by some ungodly center. Strange enough, the walls weren't frosted over, but the cold mist from earlier had returned. " Happy as always, woman. "
The woman fell silent, her brows furrowed and her stare fixed on his form. A calm hush to some, but she was furious on the inside, and a hint was being given on the inside. The Female made an attempt at him, but her time down here must of been long as she was shown that she was still strapped to such a device. Had she lost it? Possibly, time did many things. It aged, and decayed structures. As well as changing and killing living beings. She was no different; the dreaded hours, days, weeks, and months she must of spent down here had beaten her down into a sad excuse for a living being. It was a terrible sight for some, but for Barruku it was pure beauty. The brows that had been pointed earlier began to twitch a bit in anger, she wasn't exactly enjoying this visit.
The Espada simply watched as she shot him the evil eye. A long stare being exchanged between the two before he finally took the first real words. " There is no other world. Nor even this one. What, then, is there? The inner smile provoked in us by the patent nonexistence of both. " he whispered just loud enough for it to register in her head. A common quote uttered by the man almost every time. She had become quite familiar with it, after all; he was visiting her whenever he could for his brand of enjoyment. Though, there time together was becoming a bit dry, and lifeless. Her value was declining; it was dwindling on the edge of little to nothing, and she might of realized it.
He placed his right hand on the shoulder to his Arrancar jacket, his clothing being slid off with one fluid motion. The torso was left to fall; a flattening of the jacket taking place as it met the stone below. Barruku's upper-body was left revealed, but this wasn't done for kicks. He didn't want to ruin the thing is all; there was no passion, and no pleasure other than the pain he inflicted. It was all apart of his game, and perhaps the funnest part was the kill. The Espada closed any distance left between the two and placed his peach lips on hers. She really did come to hate the man, but she didn't resist. The two met eachother in a kiss that seemed to last for a minute. His right hand being raised, and his left unclenched, which let the zanpakutou fall to the cobblestone flooring.
Barruku extended his index finger; the elongated nail sliding lightly over her exposed mid-section. The tip of the nail sharpened for just this. The horizontal line he was tracing was followed by a cut. Blood streamed from the opening, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she allowed her lips to move in wide circular motions, her mouth allowing him in. Her breath being taken away as they seemed to share the same oxygen at this point. The 'Kiss of Life' had nothing on such a passionate exchange. Maybe she was learning, but it was too late to stop now. The Septimo let the finger run along the same open wound; the blade from the area draining onto his finger. There was a reason for his jacket being removed, and it was being shown here.
"My little... Masochist..." he mumbled, his lips moving on-top of hers as he spoke. His warm breath being filtered into her own mouth. He placed yet another finger on her stomach, this time his middle, and performed the same action. A long red line being formed on her stomach as he dragged the rough cells across her bare flesh. The shards of skin that were peeled from his skin remained with him as she was stripped of another layer. To some, this would be an incredibly painful thing to take, but to her it was ecstasy. A feeling so strong that pleasure was too weak of a word to describe it. She moaned low into the kiss, but that was broken with the Espada's next movement. As the two fingers reached the area around her belly button they seemed to sink in, pain, lots of it.
He was forcing his fingers into her gut; he was going to deliver a killing blow, and it was going to be slow. He brought the extended joints out of her stomach, and placed them at his side. His cold eyes were left to stare blankly at her own, which seemed to slam shut every few seconds as a way to cope with the pain she was feeling. A powerful jab was sent towards the center of her chest. The sound of bone being broken resonated throughout the dimly lit room as he penetrated her body with his bare hand. The only thing following this was a scream that exploded from her mouth. It was cut short by the twist in hand-positioning he made, which pretty much totaled her lungs. A rush of blood seeped from the edging around his fist. The skin that clung to him was the result of him caving in her chest.
Blood filled her mouth, and her eyes began to dim. Her mouth opened slowly, and allowed a rush of crimson fluid to leak out and onto her breasts, and his forearm. A mess, and a gruesome scene, everything died though. Meeting her end at the hands of who she considered to be her 'master' was better than any Shinigami killing her off. The arm was jerked slightly; another slow jump in blood loss following as he removed his hand from his chest cavity. He flicked his wrist a bit and allowed some of the sticky liquid to leave him. His eyelids fell, and he ended the ceremony with a simply kiss; a peck on the lips sent her on her way. The body of the dying Arrancar seemed to disintegrate. The blood that was once packed away in her mouth was now being shared with him. A steady dab of the stuff leaving his lips, and falling to his chin.
" Everything is nothing, including the consciousness of nothing. " Barruku added, his words registering just as she completely faded from existence. He took a crouching position, and picked up his jacket. The white clothing being slung over his shoulder. He took a slow walk back to his main room; the eyes of a murderer were held with him, but he seemed to show no sign of regret. There was no expression on his visage that noted any type of sadness. The countenance of an oblivious man, it was a great thing to have.
Click...Click
The Arrancar's soles met the ground for a final time. The heel of the Espada's sandal created yet another low tap, which seemed to linger before dying slowly. His right arm was extended to allow cold fingers to wrap around the handle to his room. His digits playing at the lustrous steal; the man tightened his grip on it before pulling back. His shoulder seemed to lock itself in place when he performed the movement; the sleeveless jacket allowed every toned muscle to make an appearance. The door opened slowly; a cool breeze taking the hall. His room held some horrible things, but all secrets were shrouded in darkness.
Barruku walked into the Darkness, and without a word being spoken; the black-screen accepted him. His figure faded with the endless abyss brought on by shadows. An all knowing power, for every light there was a dark. A Yin and a Yang for all aspects of life. The Espada knew this all too well; his life was plagued with the good and the bad. Sadly, it was forced downhill with each day; The good in all things was becoming hazy. He began to question if there was any Good in this world. No, of course not. Everyone is driven to Sin at one time or another. If there was any pleasure to be had it was through the pain of another, but he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it more than he probably should have.
His main sense of joy was derived from his need to inflict damage to another living being. A malicious man; he existed to make everyone beg for him. A select few were spared of his 'fun', his master, and anyone he considered a 'brother'. That was decided by a few key points, but he wouldn't reveal those, no. If they knew, they could feign interest, and act as he wanted. That of course was boring; a show of fear, and wouldn't get you far in his world. Barruku enjoyed terrorizing people; the man's optics being a hollow red, which only increased the level of fear inflicted on his victims. The soft tap of his sandals hitting the tile in his room could be heard, he was returning, but with what?
A Zanpakutou, but what was he doing with it? It wasn't his, that was obvious. The darn thing was way too small, and carried a few unique touches added to it. Which was strange seeing as Barruku kept his own Zanpakutou free of such adjustments. He didn't believe in flare; a dull case and blade did the job just fine. He strolled over to a door hidden within the darkness. The Espada knew his own room so the blind spots seemed visible, and clear to him. A vivid display, he could see it all as if it were under stadium lights. If you march around in the dark for a while, you will adapt to the darkness. The Septimo figured this out, and was on his way in no time.
The fingers that wrapped tightly around the blade's sheath were located on his left hand, which means he was carrying it in that hand, of course. His right hand was; however, being used to open the door in-front of him. A large steel door, which, in the light, resembled a miniature bank door. He placed his hand on the cold steel and let his reiatsu flood into it. The handle, and gears within turning and pulling to allow it to open up. A strong grinding was noticeable; the steel entrance sliding against cobblestone tile, which was only located on the inside of the door. A long hallway dripping with what looked like red-water was revealed. A steady stream of fog sliding from within, and pouring into his own room.
Barruku flashed from his position; a Sonido wasn't needed, really, but he decided he would clear the gap between one door and the next in one swoop. The familiar 'boom' followed before his body slinked back into the scene a second later. His fingers extended to allow a grip to be placed on the thinner, metal door. The same sliding noise resonated throughout the narrow hallway. The sound bounced back and forth between the walls, and managed to release a light echo. A mood-setter, really; it helped place all the pieces in the right place. The 'ceremony' was about to begin, and the Espada was happy about this. The time for work was over; the time for play was just about to begin~
"Bastar-"
A low hiss; it was nice, but a bit strained. The voice of someone who had been worked to exhaustion and then some. This wasn't the call of Barruku, no; he had remained emotionally distant from the world around him. His eyes glazed over as if he had checked out. It was like no one was home, and that might of been it. He didn't like zoning out, but he did at times. He didn't do it too often, which was probably a good thing on his part. In a world like his you would die if you so much as slipped up around someone of higher-power. The source of the voice was a female Arrancar, her body had been tied to a cross like board in Barruku's secret room. She was made to sit here, and freeze in the icy conditions provided by some ungodly center. Strange enough, the walls weren't frosted over, but the cold mist from earlier had returned. " Happy as always, woman. "
The woman fell silent, her brows furrowed and her stare fixed on his form. A calm hush to some, but she was furious on the inside, and a hint was being given on the inside. The Female made an attempt at him, but her time down here must of been long as she was shown that she was still strapped to such a device. Had she lost it? Possibly, time did many things. It aged, and decayed structures. As well as changing and killing living beings. She was no different; the dreaded hours, days, weeks, and months she must of spent down here had beaten her down into a sad excuse for a living being. It was a terrible sight for some, but for Barruku it was pure beauty. The brows that had been pointed earlier began to twitch a bit in anger, she wasn't exactly enjoying this visit.
The Espada simply watched as she shot him the evil eye. A long stare being exchanged between the two before he finally took the first real words. " There is no other world. Nor even this one. What, then, is there? The inner smile provoked in us by the patent nonexistence of both. " he whispered just loud enough for it to register in her head. A common quote uttered by the man almost every time. She had become quite familiar with it, after all; he was visiting her whenever he could for his brand of enjoyment. Though, there time together was becoming a bit dry, and lifeless. Her value was declining; it was dwindling on the edge of little to nothing, and she might of realized it.
He placed his right hand on the shoulder to his Arrancar jacket, his clothing being slid off with one fluid motion. The torso was left to fall; a flattening of the jacket taking place as it met the stone below. Barruku's upper-body was left revealed, but this wasn't done for kicks. He didn't want to ruin the thing is all; there was no passion, and no pleasure other than the pain he inflicted. It was all apart of his game, and perhaps the funnest part was the kill. The Espada closed any distance left between the two and placed his peach lips on hers. She really did come to hate the man, but she didn't resist. The two met eachother in a kiss that seemed to last for a minute. His right hand being raised, and his left unclenched, which let the zanpakutou fall to the cobblestone flooring.
Barruku extended his index finger; the elongated nail sliding lightly over her exposed mid-section. The tip of the nail sharpened for just this. The horizontal line he was tracing was followed by a cut. Blood streamed from the opening, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she allowed her lips to move in wide circular motions, her mouth allowing him in. Her breath being taken away as they seemed to share the same oxygen at this point. The 'Kiss of Life' had nothing on such a passionate exchange. Maybe she was learning, but it was too late to stop now. The Septimo let the finger run along the same open wound; the blade from the area draining onto his finger. There was a reason for his jacket being removed, and it was being shown here.
"My little... Masochist..." he mumbled, his lips moving on-top of hers as he spoke. His warm breath being filtered into her own mouth. He placed yet another finger on her stomach, this time his middle, and performed the same action. A long red line being formed on her stomach as he dragged the rough cells across her bare flesh. The shards of skin that were peeled from his skin remained with him as she was stripped of another layer. To some, this would be an incredibly painful thing to take, but to her it was ecstasy. A feeling so strong that pleasure was too weak of a word to describe it. She moaned low into the kiss, but that was broken with the Espada's next movement. As the two fingers reached the area around her belly button they seemed to sink in, pain, lots of it.
He was forcing his fingers into her gut; he was going to deliver a killing blow, and it was going to be slow. He brought the extended joints out of her stomach, and placed them at his side. His cold eyes were left to stare blankly at her own, which seemed to slam shut every few seconds as a way to cope with the pain she was feeling. A powerful jab was sent towards the center of her chest. The sound of bone being broken resonated throughout the dimly lit room as he penetrated her body with his bare hand. The only thing following this was a scream that exploded from her mouth. It was cut short by the twist in hand-positioning he made, which pretty much totaled her lungs. A rush of blood seeped from the edging around his fist. The skin that clung to him was the result of him caving in her chest.
Blood filled her mouth, and her eyes began to dim. Her mouth opened slowly, and allowed a rush of crimson fluid to leak out and onto her breasts, and his forearm. A mess, and a gruesome scene, everything died though. Meeting her end at the hands of who she considered to be her 'master' was better than any Shinigami killing her off. The arm was jerked slightly; another slow jump in blood loss following as he removed his hand from his chest cavity. He flicked his wrist a bit and allowed some of the sticky liquid to leave him. His eyelids fell, and he ended the ceremony with a simply kiss; a peck on the lips sent her on her way. The body of the dying Arrancar seemed to disintegrate. The blood that was once packed away in her mouth was now being shared with him. A steady dab of the stuff leaving his lips, and falling to his chin.
" Everything is nothing, including the consciousness of nothing. " Barruku added, his words registering just as she completely faded from existence. He took a crouching position, and picked up his jacket. The white clothing being slung over his shoulder. He took a slow walk back to his main room; the eyes of a murderer were held with him, but he seemed to show no sign of regret. There was no expression on his visage that noted any type of sadness. The countenance of an oblivious man, it was a great thing to have.
