Siege of Las Noches: Inverted Images

Six wide columns of men and women all dressed in black, at the head of each a lone figure in a white robe. They stood, expectant, waiting for the inevitable, waiting for the gate to open and let loose the full military force of the Gotei 6. All eyes were on their golden-clad leader, who stood ahead of them, preparing his gateway to their destination.

Hueco Mundo.

The members of the other divisions were making last-minute preparations, some were praying, others joking and laughing. The Fifth was as raucous as ever, the Third were taking inventory of their gear, and the Fourth were poking and prodding at various bits and pieces of machinery. From the Second Division, there emanated nothing more than a deep silence. There was no laughing, no joking. No last-minute preparations. They stood there not as a rabble of disorganized fighters, but as soldiers. They were ready, prepared, waiting to be unleashed. They had their orders, they knew what they were supposed to do.

In front of them stood their captain, who partook in their silence, an impassive expression on his face. On his back, the insignia of the Second Division was emblazoned on the white, sleeveless haori, and it was a rare sight indeed to see Kyousuke Tsukimiya wearing the symbol of his rank.

The weight, he felt, was uncomfortable. It wasn’t the weight of the material that bothered him, it was the weight of his memories. Kyousuke’s memories of those who had worn it before him hung heavy on his shoulders. Memories of Satine Purpureo, of Kasumi Suzumei. Memories of those he had lost to the world, and to others. He gave the captain of the Fifth Division a sidelong look, his cold grey eyes betraying nothing, but somewhere within him, something simmered. Something that originated from him just as much as from Kannaduki or Hazuki. He buried it, fighting the feeling, and glanced back at his king.

Gilgamesh was done, and as he stepped back from his handiwork, a golden ripple propagated through the air. It widened, becoming monstrously large, and Kyousuke knew what would happen next.

‘Lieutenant,’ he said softly to the woman immediately behind him, as he reached into the folds of his uniform for his faux-Hollow mask. ‘Remember: I have not given you permission to die.’ He slipped it on and glanced back at her. ‘Understood?’ his voice was muffled behind the hard white synthetic ceramic, and the dispassionate eyes were somehow even colder than Kyousuke’s own. He already knew what her answer would be, and her voice didn’t give a reply so much as reaffirmation of what Kyousuke already knew. Kyousuke’s attention would be focused elsewhere, and as such the division would be under her command. There was nobody else he would’ve trusted it with.

A great roar from the Fifth caught his attention, and yes, they had already started running at full tilt toward the ripple, von Creg at their head very much looking the part of a barbarian warlord. Kyousuke had to give him that; at least he knew how to inspire his men. ‘Move out,’ he muttered darkly, and behind him, Kiriko bellowed his order at the division. They broke out at a controlled jog, the entire division moving as one, and Kyousuke led them through the ripple.

It tickled ever so slightly, but there was something about Gilgamesh’s portal that felt inherently wrong, as if what they were doing was an impossibility. It was a sensation entirely unlike his own gates, and it disturbed him on an almost unconscious level. He pressed on, however, and the footing very soon turned into sand. He emerged from the golden light in front of his men, and was greeted by Las Noches looming up ahead, the white dunes between the ripple and the fortress laid out like a red carpet that was waiting to be dyed.

The desert was empty for a second, two seconds, then—there. Their enemies had made their entrance, just as Kyousuke had known they would. He turned to Kiriko one last time. ‘Be safe,’ he said, and then he was gone.

Kyousuke was many things. An officer, a soldier, a brother—of sorts—but here, in the desert sands, he was only one thing: a surgical instrument of death. He had left the division in Kiriko’s capable hands so that he could spread the silence of the grave that the Second Division was so famous for, and while they won the battle, Kyousuke would win the war in the only way he knew how. He would remove all obstacles, large or small.

He zipped past the dunes, attempting to flank the majority of the Hollow host, and as his haori fluttered in the wind, he noticed that a small contingent of Arrancar had spotted him and decided to pursue. He stopped long enough to balance precariously atop a dune, as if to challenge his pursuers to catch him, then slid down the incline, briefly hiding out of sight.

That was all he needed. He slipped into Onikakushi and waited for the unsuspecting enemy to come over the crest. Seconds passed, and then they appeared, the static of their Sonido bringing them to an abrupt halt not far from where Kyousuke had laid his trap. They seemed confused, uncertain of where their prey had disappeared to, and then Kyousuke leapt at them. He drew his sword mid-air, and fell upon them like a wrecking ball coated in razors. They barely had time to raise their own swords—fortunately for them, they had unsheathed them as soon as they had spotted Kyousuke—before Kyousuke’s storm of sharp metal hit them. The first Arrancar to raise his sword saw it shatter before him, and as a look of shock spread across his face, his arm followed suit, torn to bloody ribbons. He screamed in pain and terror, but Kyousuke had already passed and as the lone Shinigami spun out of the way of a point-blank cero, he delivered a swift kick to the side of yet another Arrancar’s face. Kyousuke’s foot caved in the helpless thing’s skull, and it fell, lifeless, to the sand, gurgling a weak stream of blood. That left two of them on their feet in more or less pristine condition, and they both came at Kyousuke at once, their swords raised and their faces contorted in fury. Kyousuke met them head on, the short blade in his hand suddenly becoming very many, and the two Arrancar halted, suddenly realizing that they were covered in holes. One dropped his sword and fell to his knees as he clutched at the torrent of blood pulsing out of his throat, barely noticing that the white fabric across his belly was slowly blossoming red, whereas the other had simply stopped short and seemed to be having great difficulty breathing. Unsurprising, given that both her lungs had been punctured. They keeled over, almost as one, and Kyousuke wondered why he was not welcomed back into the warm bosom of silence.

Oh, yes, he thought, and turned to the shrieking Arrancar whose arm was a ruined mess. The poor man was still facing away from Kyousuke, kneeling and cradling the remains of his sword arm, and Kyousuke simply grabbed his head and thrust Kannaduki through his spine at the neck. With the blade jutting out of his throat, the Arrancar fell silent instantly, the dunes around him stained red and covered in the bodies of his comrades.

Kyousuke pulled his blade free with a sickening sound of metal grating on bone and let the corpse fall, face forward, onto the sand. He surveyed his handiwork, and climbed back up to the top of the dune he had hidden behind, looking back at where the two armies had collided. He had been right. The sand is burning, and the belligerent haze of spiritual pressure thrown about like sledgehammers is filling the air, even at this distance. He couldn’t help but smile. This is what his existence boiled down to now.

His smile faded as he found himself wondering how things were going for Lessa and Mitsutaka, and then, on an entirely different level, how things were going for Tova. Would he have been properly prepared for all this?

Kyousuke would no doubt find out soon enough. At the moment, there were more important matters to attend to.


°1,403

-1 CA Release of Shikai

Time to make good on your threat, Noveno.

Kyousuke shrugged lightly, sword still in hand, and turned back to the carnage he had left behind, and was greeted by an unexpected sight.

A massive white fox was leaping straight at him. He barely had time to think, but on some strata of his mind, he was certain there had been a short Oh, as he barely had time to register the tattooed number nine on the fox's flank.

Instinctively, almost of its own accord, his Hollow mask manifested, shattering the faux-Hollow mask as it did. The shards of the fake rained down in front of him, and he heard Hazuki cackle with glee, no doubt a mixed reaction of not only destroying her facsimile, but also of being let out into the world. He instantly felt himself toughen up, Hazuki's pride hardening him, making him indestructible, eternal.

Well, not quite indestructible. The fox barreled into him feet-first and he felt his ribs and collarbones strain and crack from the impact. He had been just in time, and tried not to think of what would've happened to his bones had the mask not appeared, but the momentum of the leap heaved Kyousuke off his feet and carried them both through the air in a beautiful arc before hitting the sand, throwing up a massive spray. They tumbled, and Kyousuke did his best to avoid stabbing himself with his sword while they rolled. They came to a stop, and Kyousuke found he was on top, Kannaduki lying on the sand a few meters away. He didn't even bother reaching for his sword, but instead just punched. The static was louder, more pronounced, and somehow more sinister this time, and for a split second Kyousuke seemed to have two right arms, both whistling through the air toward the body of the fox. One was aimed at the heart. The other, for the throat.

His fists surged with blinding speed and force toward their destinations, and Kyousuke put all his weight into the punches. He hoped on some level that his hakama would withstand the acid burn of Hollow skin as he straddled his opponent, but if all went well, he wouldn't have worry about it too much. His expression was grim, unsmiling, and there was white sand in his hair. His heart was pounding, half from the strenuous activity and half from the adrenaline rush, and he thought he could hear the faint sound of Hazuki, still laughing in glee through the buzzing in his ears.

It felt like waking up after a good night's sleep.


°427

−16; Stamina, Total −16 {
−1 base combat Stam;
−0 to slip on my Mask;
−12 for one Utsushidase and two +60 Strength Tsukihanase boosts;
−3 for Messatsushiro;
}

Sustained Injuries {
A few fractured ribs;
Pride;
}

I took the liberty of by chance turning around and spotting you just as you took the liberty of by chance finding me with my back turned. Hope that isn't a problem.

I guess as far as number crunching goes, 140 Defense puts your attack at Equivalent, I think.

The punches are both at 150 Strength with two HSA tiers on top of that, and I guess whatever you decide to defend with will have to take into account that I'm a Grandmaster Hakuda practitioner.

Is the base combat Stam still a thing? Haven't done this properly in a while.

KYOUSUKE HAS CALLED A PAUSE.

He wished an audience from our Mechanics Admin, Ai, about "Obliterate". And by all gods, we will respect it kindly.
Such will occur at his tech thread, not here.

Ebony tendrils whipped behind the Combat Medic Commander as she surveyed the battlefield before her. A deep ocean of blue skimmed over the countless masses; Shinigami purified Hollow. Hollow consumed Shinigami. The sights the female’s solitary eye were beholding were magnificent. A long forgotten order of things had once again become established. This was the true way of their worlds. Their King, her King, had ordered an Invasion on the wretched beasts own turf; Hueco Mundo. He, coupled with their Golden Court, ensured a victory that none before could have done.

Her white uniformed figure stood tall upon the white sand dune; monstrosity of her released Zanpakutou at her side. Her arm rested around the hilt, wrapped around its broad blue hilt, her hand resting lazily upon the golden revolving chamber upon its fuller. She’d changed in such a way that was more befitting of her true nature. She was no longer the meek, monotone Medic of the Fifth Division. Nay. She’d become something more akin to the beasts she worked alongside of. She’d become Arianna De Luca.

An explosion erupted to her right, the force of it sending a breeze strong enough to toss both hair and loose clothing to her left. Her head turned, that individually wrapped bundle of ebon hair flopping across her shoulder, before flopping upon her bosom. The two beings to blame for such an explosion weren’t far from her; in fact close enough to allow both her poor perception abilities and her solitary eye to easily notice them. The first was one she recognized. He had stood before the head of the Second Division; the darkest and likely most directly feared Division of all. Kyousuke Tsukimiya. A man she knew little about. Only that he had suddenly been made Captain of the Second, replacing the rather lazy and incompetent Noaruji Amai. The other was a Hollow of some form; she didn’t take the time to register its appearance in her memory bank. There was little point, as she would ensure the Captains Victory.

The main of her frame didn’t move. There was little need for such. Instead, her left arm extended out; palm facing a mob of lifeless Shinigami. She wrenched what Reishi remained within their beings, they didn’t need it. They’d serve a greater purpose in death than they ever had in life, for with their Reishi she formed a being of colossal proportions. Arianna couldn’t help but to grin at her creation. It stood some ten feet tall, and was some five feet wide. It oddly resembled that of a noble Centaur, loyal and obedient, as it awaited instructions. Instructions that didn’t come as words as she callously waved her hand off in the direction of the Captain.

Her hand hadn’t yet fell before the giant went into action. It moved with blinding speed, a feat one would not have assumed possible given its size, and only the trail of sky rising sand betrayed its approach. Arianna’s hand trailed across the revolving chamber of her Shikai as she called upon its benevolent powers of healing, where upon she channeled them through her fearsome construct.

As though it had a mind of its own, the giant Centaur, now by Kyousuke’s side, placed but a pad of its massive index finger upon his shoulder; a pad of which glowed with a faint green hue. True to her reputation, Arianna focused on coaxing the man’s reishi, with her own, into rapidly healing what wounds he had sustained.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word Count: 585
GP Earned: 11

Actions Spent By Arianna: 2
Actions Spent by Marionette 1: 2
Marionette Has the Following Statistics-
Reiatsu- 175
Stamina-89
Str- 20
Def-35
Spd- 100
Spirit-20
All Skills are treated as Intermediate Rank.

Actions/Technique’s Used by Arianna: Speculo. 9 Stamina/53 Remaning. Juno’s Divine Light: Major Wound Healed. Costs 5 Stamina + 2 Stamina for being used through Marionette. 7 Stamina Total for this technique. Total Stamina Remaining is 46.
Actions/Technique’s Used By Marionette: Shunpo (Intermediate Rank) +30 Speed. 4 Stamina Spent. 85 Total remaining. Last Action is taken by Juno’s Divine Light. No stamina paid on its end.