The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED]

« Prev
1
Next »

Takasugi Ayumi

660 Posts

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 1, 2013 5:52:53 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 1, 2013 5:52:53 GMT -5

The Maggot's Nest was always quiet at night.

Not that from within the confines of the cavernous facility it was possible to discern time, but Ayumi mapped out tentative patterns for the flow of time, deciding that when she found herself tired, it was probably night (though she could be mistaken, naturally, for she found herself tired an awful lot). That and if she craned her head back far enough, she could make out the colour of the sliver of the sky that was visible through the miniscule, barred window located close to where the ceiling and walls met and a careful tilt of her head upwards revealed that the sky was inky and dark. As of right now, exhaustion was slowly creeping upon her, weighing down on her eyelids. A small yawn escaped her lips and she clumsily moved one hand to cover her open mouth, her ears vaguely picking up the sound of scurrying somewhere near her seated position on the dirty floor. Leaning further back against the wall and slouching even further forward, Ayumi ignored it, realising after a moment's thought that it was probably the movement of rats up and down the walls; to her horror the sound was familiar, something she had known unconsciously and did not even have to verify. In a sense it reflected on how long she had spent incarcerated in this detention centre; were she still living normally then the idea of sharing living quarters with rats would have horrified her beyond explanation or expression. She cast a wry glance to the side when the sound grew louder and more noticeable--perhaps the rodents were growing restless--as if to ask them, in a less than polite manner which she condensed into that one glare, to tone their racket down. Naturally nothing happened.

"It doesn't work," the woman sprawled out opposite to her groaned. "They're always there, always just there ... " The brunette surveyed the larger woman carefully, some apprehension evident in her brown orbs. She responded with silence, deciding that conversing with her would probably lead to complication and might even be impossible after the other screeched again, this time profanities that Ayumi tuned out with practiced ease; the woman did not seem to be in nearly enough pain to warrant concern from a fellow inmate and what with the dog-eat-dog hierarchy that existed in the prison, one could only worry about themselves. In a place like this companions were challenging to find and often considered unnecessary. It was natural to ignore other inmates writhing or crying out in pain, to watch them crumble as they tried in vain to live with the horror they had seen or with the weight of their actions. Ayumi herself fell victim to these episodes of self-destruction and had grown over the years, accustomed to the sheer loneliness. Her only method of coping was to keep talking to herself--to keep reminding herself that there existed a world outside of this giant prison, to know time still passed and the world still revolved. Her own memories of this world were fading into dust in her mind, as if they were being smudged away under the hands of an eager artist rectifying a charcoal image, but they had yet to be stowed away in some dark corner or her mind or be completely forgotten. Though not particularly concerned with attaining freedom or normalcy currently (she would not mind either), she was intent on staying sane for as long as she could. A girl like her thrived on mastery, on control, on having the upper hand; without it she would question her worth and her competence.

And even then the Nest would morph into that interrogation room in the sixth division and the inmates' voices would seem menacing, booming and hollow, just like the ones she had been treated with when detained by the sixth division. Sometimes brilliant red rings would overlap her vision and she would not remember her surroundings; she would live one hundred years ago, somewhere in one of the richer districts of Rukongai, still cleaning up after her parents had closed the bar for the night. She had slowly realised that forever remaining in the past and acknowledging that a future did not exist for her--not in the same way it existed for other, normal, sane people--was her only choice. "It's not like I can do anything in the future for that matter; my future is this cell and it's walls and it will only ever be that. I'll never taste nice food again, or wear better clothes or even sleep in a more comfortable place. Should I bother looking forward? Would the optimist tell me to be happy I'm still alive? To hell with optimism," She was broken out of her musings by the sound of footsteps thundering through the corridors of the nest, coupled with reiatsu that she didn't recognise. The very feel of it indicated a vast amount of power; if she were to be honest, it was intimidating.

"A visitor?" She ventured quietly at the footsteps (whose sound was increasing in volume) as she stood up shakily and warily glanced into the long corridor.

---

862 words/17 GP/17 GP Total

SPOILER: Click to show

Sorry, had to make a tiny edit. "A woman like her thrived on ... " has been changed to "A girl like her thrived on ... ".

Knowledge The Swordbreaker

Transcendent

7,668 Posts

RankKyousuke Tsukimiya ApplicationAsk no Questions ThreadsHear no Lies

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 2, 2013 13:27:11 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 2, 2013 13:27:11 GMT -5

It hadn’t been long since Kyousuke Tsukimiya had been released from the Special Detention Facility, and in the scant few weeks that had passed since then, he had avoided his former place of residence like the plague. Captivity was not something he was built for—but then, who was?

After a shave and a haircut, though, it was difficult for the casual observer to see just what the new captain had been through. Two years in a hole with no company but the brutish guards that served him the same slop day in and day out.

Well, he thought, that isn’t quite accurate. There had been other company, but her constant attempts on Kyousuke’s life had been something Kyousuke could gladly have done without. In solitary confinement, the voices in your head were the only companions you had, and Kyousuke’s voices were a great deal more dangerous than most. Down there in the gloom, every day had been an exhausting battle for control, and every day he had beat Hazuki into submission, somehow growing ever stronger.

It was a perfect example of the mind’s influence on the body, especially evident in the souls of the deceased. Few people realized that with the right outlook, the Nest was a great opportunity for growth if you could bear the solitude and isolation.

If you couldn’t, however, it was nothing but a downward spiral into insanity. Kyousuke had beat the spiral.

But only just. He saved you, in more ways than one. On a long enough timeline, everyone loses their mind, Kyousuke. Even you.

There was truth in his inner Hollow’s words, but it wasn’t meant as a pure statement of fact; Hazuki was mocking Kyousuke in her own not-so-subtle way. Reminding him that, on a long enough timeline, even Kyousuke Tsukimiya would succumb to his baser instincts as long as nobody interfered. The thought wasn’t pleasant, but it was safely behind him. He was suddenly reminded of what he had told Mitsutaka—there’s no point in dwelling on the mistakes of our past. Kyousuke was still alive and arguably better off than he had ever been.

He had been given a second chance, of sorts.

And now he was on his way back to the Maggot’s Nest, back to the pit that he had willingly been thrown into, back to where his life had begun anew, to pay it forward. To offer someone else the same chance. Kyousuke’s predecessors had been traditionalists: use a blade or bust, but Kyousuke was convinced there were better, more efficient methods of removing inconvenient individuals. Violence was not always the answer. Sometimes, a delicate touch was needed, an unseen hand. No bloodshed, just... Death.

Poison was certainly a fascinating subject, and by chance, Kyousuke had come upon the dossier of one particularly interesting individual when he had reviewed the inmates of the Special Detention Facility. A victim of the closed-mindedness of Kyousuke’s predecessors. A genius, locked away because of the moral implications of her actions. Talent wasted because of some dull, unimaginative interpretation of what was right and wrong. Kyousuke had been convinced for as long as he had lived that there were no such things, that they were simply constructs of lesser minds, minds unable to perceive objective worth. But there was always worth to be found in the most unlikely of places, and so Kyousuke had decided to pay the Nest a small visit.

The warden had admitted him without incident, of course—Ametsuchi respected the chain of command as any good subordinate would and had recognized Kyousuke despite the latter’s refusal to wear the haori signifying his rank—and Kyousuke had left his blade topside and been given an escort in the form of a burly man eager, it seemed, to follow orders. Few members of the Second were dumb; even the Nest staff were brighter than most, but they differed in that they were mean. Vaguely, Kyousuke wondered why—the people held here had done nothing wrong, they had simply been... Inconvenient.

They descended to the cell blocks without incident, and Kyousuke caught a glimpse of the flight of stairs that led down to solitary, suppressing a slight shudder when he was reminded of that desolate hallway. The feeling of separation from Kannaduki started to settle in unbidden, and as if in response to his worry, her voice rang clear in his head.

You really think this is a good idea, Kyousuke?

It was strange, hearing his zanpakutō’s voice in the Nest. Inmates were effectively isolated from their blades during their confinement; they were broken in half and stored in an impressive array of miniature sekkiseki tombs on the surface, their voices silenced for the duration of the incarceration. The separation was absolute yet easily reversible, and there was no doubt in Kyousuke’s mind that someone, at some point, had received a promotion for thinking up such an elegant solution for creating despair. Subtle torture was what it was, and it was extremely effective. Riots didn’t happen in the Nest, the population was far too demoralized. At best, they could muster enough willpower to get in a fistfight, and even then it was a weak effort with no real force behind it.

We can use someone like her. I can use someone like her. Let the Sixth worry about the implications, I only care about the results.

Hazuki had grown oddly silent since they had entered the complex.

Kyousuke’s escort pointed at a cell. ‘That’s the one,’ he muttered. Kyousuke peered through the bars, his eyes adjusting to the dimness. There were two women within, but there was no doubt as to which one Kyousuke was after.

‘Move her out of there,’ he said, gesturing at the larger woman sprawled on the floor.
‘Where to, sir?’ came the reply.
Kyousuke remained silent, opting instead to shoot the man a glance that suggested that he didn’t care in the slightest what he did with her, just as long as she didn’t remain here.
The man took the hint.

He busied himself with unlocking the door and hurried in, whisking the woman away without much difficulty. Kyousuke paid him little mind, instead gazing at the younger of the two women, who had risen as they had approached. Brown met grey and the gaze held for what seemed like an eternity, and then they were alone, the door of the cell hanging wide open. Kyousuke entered without a word, leaving the door open, and sat down on the bunk opposite the girl.

‘Sit,’ he said, in a tone very much like the one he had used on Kiriko the first time he had met her. It was not a request, it was a command, and the unspoken threat of what would happen if she did not comply hung heavy in the air.

‘Do you know who I am?’ he asked, his eyes locking with hers once again. He didn’t expect she did.

°1,161

Takasugi Ayumi

660 Posts

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 2, 2013 22:02:22 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 2, 2013 22:02:22 GMT -5

A second chance?

What were they here for, she questioned internally instantly assuming the worst. A thorough check of her actions in the past week revealed nothing significant enough to warrant intervention from whatever authorities kept watch over the Nest, unless that incident when she screeched at the woman lying opposite to her counted. In the labyrinthine prison weren't weak protests and disputes between one another a common matter, though? Several dozens of inmates wearily quarrelled with each other, often over the most mundane of things and with about as much spirit and aggression as a kitten but there was little need for intervention as such quarrels were extinguished in moments, dying because neither party had the strength or desire to keep fighting. If it was not to reprimand her, then why were they here? She recognised the guard who had accompanied the other male; to be more specific, she was on negative terms with him but avoided making any eye-contact with him in favour of studying the much stronger male. She noted he had been called 'sir'--was he someone in a high position then? But there was no article of clothing to signify his position, no haori to show off his position as a captain, no arm band to display his pride as a vice-captain. Who is he, then? Her wide, brown eyes never wavered from their position on the man's face, her inquisitiveness and vivid confusion present. If it were only to scold me, then bringing in someone powerful would be unnecessary. What ... what does he want then? Could it really be a second chance? Could I be getting out of this hellhole? Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she weighed the possibilities; freedom, a tighter level of security or death. Ayumi was quick to rule out the last one, knowing she had done nothing--yet--to deserve a punishment that severe.

The man ordered for her companion to be taken away, demanding that he be left alone with her. The more she thought about it, the more she wished for the man to bear good news, to tell her that she could leave this desolate place though she could not help but also reassure herself that should it not be good news, then she would live with it. The chances of departing from the Nest were not zero; it had happened to people in the past, hadn't it? Some managed to leave because they were acquitted or been offered second chances and some more unfortunate people passed away during the course of their incarceration. Sometimes Ayumi would watch longingly, wishing she had been given the opportunity to escape as well. Deep down she was aware that she had not born her incarceration well--there were some people who grew from their stay here, some lucky, resilient people who lived through the torture and moved past it. Ayumi was not one of those people; she had succumbed to insanity, though she was a good deal less fractured than a number of the inmates here. She could still function normally, unlike some who could barely move. If she were given a chance to leave then she would be a fool to decline it, to say no to tasting freedom, normalcy sanity and food with actual shape and texture. As the guard dragged the woman away, surprisingly not receiving any protest from the woman, the man turned to face Ayumi. His gaze was sharp, certain and confident, unlike her unsure and curious one. He seated himself once the guard and the larger woman had vacated the cell. I can't stop thinking about what he wants from me. There's nothing I can give to him.

She complied with his command quickly, understanding that it was best she did not disobey the order; it was not the possibility of a negative outcome or of a misunderstanding that propelled her to hold her tongue and do as he said, but rather an honest fear for what could happen should she not comply with him. Quite clearly nothing good could come out of defying him and the guard's quick response to the man's commands and his overflowing respect (or fear) for the man was proof enough of that. She seated herself opposite to him, her mind veering now towards thoughts of when she had first come here. Someone had been given the authority to determine right from wrong and said person had never looked at the grey area where they intersected, where it was hard to distinguish from morally correct and incorrect. Someone had decided she was inconvenient, not someone to be allowed to walk around freely without even trying to understand the reasons behind her actions or seeing actual potential in her. Someone had decided she was a criminal and neatly swept her crimes under the rug before wrapping her--the whole being--up into one parcel and throwing her into this dump site for people the world was better off forgetting about. And thus her life had become one terrible cycle of waking up to dripping ceilings and scurrying rats, then trying to live through the day and holding down the bland, jelly-like substance that the guards here defined as food. Once upon a time anger used to occupy her mind, anger for the life and the eternal companion--Higekihime--that had been stripped of her and over the years anger had turned into exhaustion and then resignation.

She looked up from her hands when he asked her if she knew his identity. The thought of lying, of even trying to seem vaguely knowledgeable exited her mind and she shook her head in response. "I don't know who you are," she answered and made an effort to seem as polite as possible, though with her ragged appearance and tendency to become distracted it was hard to be seen as polite. Her hands found their way around her frame, hugging her elbows and she looked up cautiously. She began to wish she seemed a little more presentable--although a majority of her scars had been hidden by her baggy clothing, Ayumi was aware her hair was a mess and her face was probably unsightly. In stark contrast to her, he was clean and well-dressed and she felt awkward in his presence. It was more than just a desire to seem beautiful or presentable to others that made Ayumi want to spruce her appearance up; normal people, or rather, people who were not inconvenient or unwanted like her did look the way the brunette did; it was a silly desire, but a neat appearance and clean clothes were symbols of the outside world Ayumi longed to be a part of. "Err ... may I ask who you are, though?" She added after a few moments of silence.

---

1122 words/21 GP/38 GP Total

Knowledge The Swordbreaker

Transcendent

7,668 Posts

RankKyousuke Tsukimiya ApplicationAsk no Questions ThreadsHear no Lies

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 4, 2013 4:25:26 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 4, 2013 4:25:26 GMT -5

Good, he thought, as the girl answered his question. That makes this easier. She seemed apprehensive enough as it was, and Kyousuke doubted telling her who he was would help. If anything, it’d probably just... Well, scare her. Even the Amai fool had been somewhat of a legend despite his incompetence; it came with the job. Normal people were unsettled by the commanding officer of the Onmitsukidō.

‘We’ll get to that,’ he replied curtly, half of him assessing—as if on autopilot—the woman sitting before him. She had not been able to escape the usual symptoms of incarceration, he noticed as his eyes adjusted to the insufficient lighting. Her skin was in poor condition—halfway between waxy and papery, Kyousuke couldn’t quite tell which word fit her best in the gloom—and her face was gaunt and haggard. Second Division hospitality at its best, a stunning example of how to break someone through negligence alone. It suddenly struck Kyousuke that they treated their prisoners like mushrooms: they fed them shit and kept them in the dark.

Kyousuke didn’t find the thought amusing in the slightest, having been a prisoner until quite recently, and he found himself hoping this girl would be cooperative, if only for her own sake. Deep down, he wasn’t sure if anyone deserved this, no matter how inconvenient they were. Death was certainly an improvement in most cases.

Are you—are you going soft on me, Kyousuke? Hazuki’s tone was derisive, incredulous.

Don’t give me that, Hazuki. You were down here just as long as I was. Don’t try to tell me you enjoyed it.

I had something to pass the time with, came the haughty reply, and Kyousuke could practically see his inner Hollow buffing her nails with a look of calculated indifference on her face.

‘I’m here to ask you some questions regarding the circumstances surrounding your internment.’ Kyousuke had practically memorized the file, but it was a touchy subject for the Sixth and he wanted to hear it from a primary source, especially given the fact that Captain Amai had quite clearly been sabotaging everything he could get his dirty little noble hands on lately. Gilgamesh had told Kyousuke at the very start that the Captains, at least, were off limits unless an order was given, and despite Kyousuke’s growing pile of evidence against Jemukatashi Amai, Gilgamesh had simply done what he always did: laughed carelessly in a shining display of arrogance.

Perhaps it was for the better—as evidenced clearly during his interrogation of Jasper Aizawa, Kyousuke’s self-restraint had suffered a blow from overexposure to Hazuki, and had the Golden King not been abundantly clear on the issue, Kyousuke would no doubt have taken matters into his own hands by this point. The Amai would be dead or crippled, and the same could probably have been said for von Creg. Second–Fifth relations were spread thin as it was, so in a way Kyousuke was grateful for the restriction.

Not that he thought he was wrong. Or that Artix didn’t deserve it.

‘You’ve spent a fair amount of time in here. Your guilt in the murder of one Third Seat Sakigawa of the Fifth Division was never officially proven, but I think we both know full well that it was your doing.’ Kyousuke’s face betrayed no emotion—he was not judging the girl in front of him, he was merely stating facts.

‘Tissue samples retrieved from his corpse closely resembled ones from your laboratory and trace elements of what could only be described as an incredibly potent poison was found in what remained of his veins. The connection, you’re no doubt aware, is circumstantial but clearly it was enough to make the Second Division spirit you away to this place. Hard evidence,’ he said, ‘has never been a deciding factor in who we condemn to this hole.’

He breathed in the dank air, trying, and ultimately succeeding, to suppress the memories he associated with it. No time for that now. ‘Records indicate that you developed the poison used in the murder, and from a purely objective standpoint, it’s a work of art. The poison, that is. Not the murder. What can you tell me about it?’

Kyousuke desperately hoped she remembered. Again, for her own sake.

°715

Takasugi Ayumi

660 Posts

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 4, 2013 16:33:46 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 4, 2013 16:33:46 GMT -5

Despite having asked if she knew him, he didn't introduce himself. Ayumi was not particularly troubled it, though a subtle itch in the back of her mind began to grow as she realised that should the occasion arise, she would not know what to refer to him as and being the socially-inept female she was, she chose to not ask him should he find it impolite. He did say he would introduce himself eventually and Ayumi was convinced by it. She could almost feel his eyes roman across her visage, every little niche of it probably being taken note of by his keen, grey orbs and the desire to seem more presentable grew within her exponentially. She lifted a hand to brush a few strands of brown hair out of her eyes as silence--thick and heavy--settled between them once again, only to be broken by the sharp voice that belonged to the man opposite to her. He wasted no time in delving into what he wished to discuss with her, not so much as the faintest trace of hesitance present in his crisp tone as he spoke about his intention. To ask a few questions about her internment. To the ordinary person, a few questions would have been a manifestation of innocent curiosity but Ayumi knew--from experience--that questions were torturous, dangerous, akin to the jaws of a starved shark. "About my internment?" She repeated quietly, her only physical response being a small cocking of her head to the side. The apprehension in her tone thickened as she began to understand what this … session held in store for her. Gruesome memories would surface, images that she had long since decided were best stowed away would swim to the forefront of her mind. She had yet to master the art of tuning out horrid things at will. Anger, however, was not present in her--being lucid allowed her to realise that the man in front of her probably had nothing to do with her incarceration, or even her current situation and she had no anger presently either; there was nobody for her to spend it on.

He was quick to begin rattling off facts, his tone sliced with a coolness that unnerved Ayumi; these were not mere facts to the brunette, once upon a time they were actual incidents that led to her incarceration and now they were memories that troubled her when sleep approached her. To listen to them being treated as nothing more than facts listed in a file was odd, to say at the very least. Ayumi could not however deny the truth in them--she had been responsible for the inexpressibly aggravating Sakigawa-sanseki's death, even if she had not physically committed the act of murder (and she was sorely tempted to point this out as well--the only beings she had killed with her own hands included a few hell butterflies and a rat or two). She chewed down on her lower lip as he continued to speak about the folly of her past. To Ayumi, Sakigawa-sanseki's death was justifiable, even though she was well aware murder was wrong. He had stolen two innocent lives whilst under the influence of alcohol and claimed to have not remembered the act afterwards. His inebriation had become an excuse for his actions--where was the justice in that? Where was the justice in the fact that her parents' deaths had never officially been investigated--a bartender and his wife, somewhere in Rukongai, who would have the time--and that their names were but strings of characters printed neatly in someone's funeral records?

--Where is the justice in anything, then? My imprisonment as well. People have done worse things but they're still confined in a normal prison. I killed one person and they threw me in here because of something I created.

"Ah … " She paused as the full weight of his words hit her. Contrasting sharply with what she had expected initially, he had praised the very reason she had been condemned to this pit and questioned her on the poison she had oh-so meticulously developed. Pleasant memories of spending days hunched over a record book, reviewing her findings, nights in a sterile laboratory, swirling the contents of a flask and of the nostalgic scent of the fragrant tea she would sip whilst taking breaks reached her and she smiled softly to herself. The smile was wiped off the instant she began to remember details of the poison itself, though unlike her previous memories, these details were choppier and in fragments, like broken pieces of a dream placed in the wrong order. "I … can tell you that it was certainly intended to kill people," she murmured, one hand rising to grasp her hair as she struggled to pull out more details. She had been certain then that she would never forget the precious cocktail she had toiled away to craft, yet there were giant, unmistakeable gaps in her memory now, possibly a result of the years on end she had spent in this cordoned off area of the Seireitei. The thought of stopping, of refusing to give details struck her as a bad idea as soon as she realised that the man in front of her would probably not be very tolerant of it; he seemed blunt and direct, unwilling to accept tentativeness or uncertainty from others. Her smile reappeared as the conversation was steered towards a topic that fascinated her immensely. "It was built to mimic cyanide--to prevent cells from breaking down oxygen--but it was more corrosive … I believe the type I developed had to be injected directly into the bloodstream,"

---

952 words/19 GP/57 total

SPOILER: Click to show

Poison is not scientifically accurate, I'm aware. I took a few liberties with it, hope it's alright~

Knowledge The Swordbreaker

Transcendent

7,668 Posts

RankKyousuke Tsukimiya ApplicationAsk no Questions ThreadsHear no Lies

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 5, 2013 9:20:05 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 5, 2013 9:20:05 GMT -5

Down here, thinking about the outside was dangerous. It gave you hope, and hope was something a prisoner was best left without, especially if you were a prisoner in the Maggot’s Nest.

In his own way, Kyousuke had clung to it. His stay in the facility had been a test of patience, but hope had existed in the form of knowledge that he still had friends on the outside—or so he had thought at the time.

The woman in front of him now was completely and utterly alone, and she knew it. The past was what kept her alive, because as far as she was concerned, she had no future. Only a dream of the future. Her reaction to what Kyousuke had said was plain evidence of that, and Kyousuke found something about the way she half-smiled to herself at the mention of her work reassuring. It indicated two things: that she remembered it, and that she remembered it with fondness. A feeling of longing was important at this stage—simply wanting to get out wasn’t enough, she had to want to leave this place for a very specific reason. That was precisely why Kyousuke was here: to put ideas in this poor girl’s head. Everyone in the Nest wanted to get out, but they wanted to get out for the wrong reasons.

Kyousuke was good at giving people reasons.

He thought back to how he had felt during Jasper Aizawa’s interrogation, that unnerving feeling of absolute power that Gilgamesh himself had no doubt felt when he had first come to collect Kyousuke. What Kyousuke was feeling now, however, was quite unlike that sensation. This wasn’t power or even control, this was simply having something that the other person wanted. Kyousuke held Takasugi Ayumi’s freedom in the palm of his hand, and he had come here today intent on giving it to her—as long as she gave him something in return.

The oddity of her dossier had struck him when he had first come across it—a late night in his office hard at work planning the invasion had resulted in a conversation with Kiriko, and the subject had eventually turned to poison and the practical application of it in their line of work. The two of them had spoken about it briefly before returning to their work, but the idea had festered in Kyousuke’s mind until he could bear it no longer, and the next day, he had visited Archives and pulled as much reading material he could on the subject. At first, he had assumed the woman he was reading about was dead—a member of the Third Division displaying such skill in the art of creating poison would no doubt have garnered a lot of attention, yet Kyousuke had never heard of her before. It wasn’t until he had reached the end of the file that he discovered that she was very much alive and in the worst place in Soul Society. He had appropriated the file and spent the next few days poking around both the Third and the Sixth—skillfully avoiding Lessa so as not to be discovered—and then finally come to the conclusion that a meeting would have to take place.

‘So what motivates a member of the healing division to develop poisons?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘It’s not exactly what I’d call a normal interest for someone in the Third to have. Why not the Fourth? Why not the Second?’

Get her to think about her passion. Introduce new possibilities. Lay the trap, bait it, and wait for your prey to stumble into it.

°606

That's okay, I took a few liberties of my own when I made a character who's been dead for seventy-odd years

Takasugi Ayumi

660 Posts

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 6, 2013 8:04:44 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 6, 2013 8:04:44 GMT -5

It struck her only then that something was wrong and she hastily chastised herself internally on having missed something of such significance; how did this man know so much about her and why was her knowledge regarding him … worse than limited, non-existent? Ayumi had found herself once more too lost in memories, too caught up in reminiscing to take note of details that honestly deserved her attention. It was not curiosity, not the same kind of desire she experienced to deepen her knowledge or understand the world and its oddities, but rather wariness that made her wish to want to know more about him. It was rare for her to feel at all curious as of late, the primary reason for which being that there was nothing about her life at present that she wished to understand and if there was, by some miracle, something she wished to understand it was beyond her comprehension and Ayumi was not the sort to waste her energy on what she considered unnecessary. Her head snapped upwards as she processed in a flash that she didn't even know this man's name and yet he knew of her entire past and even her achievements and though she was not curious to learn about him, at the very least it would not hurt for her to know who he was before she spilt the more private or intimate sections of her thoughts to him.

He spoke before she could voice her question, however. Yet again, like an arrow released from a tense bow that shot forwards steadily, there was no wavering, no deviation from the topic he had brought up but it was evident the words had not been blurted out either; every word was calculated, precise like the onslaught of a machine gun but concealed with a polite inquisitiveness. Motivation. She inhaled deeply to mask her flinching at his question, barely bothered by the stale, recycled air of the cell. "Well … " she murmured in answer to the cocking of his eyebrow. "I've always thought it was interesting," she settled for after terse, heavy moments of contemplation. I don't know what to say. What did motivate her? Was it success? Or rather just coming up with innovative ideas? She did like results like every other person; she adored the rush of satisfaction that flooded her as she declared a project completed, though propagation of her work or receiving admiration or praise for it was relatively insignificant to her and having been a girl who spent a good deal of her life shut off from people in general, the idea of glory and chasing after it seemed silly and awkward. Was it enjoyment and the need to keep enjoying herself that pushed her forward, then? Perhaps. Ayumi proceeded with her response, having now found a little more to contribute to her initial response. "I don't think the Second division had openings for someone who worked with poisons when I first came here and the Fourth division have always veered more towards physical and technological developments," she confessed, her gaze dropping towards the folds of her tattered shihakusho once more.

"May … may I ask who you are?" She asked demurely, innocently--qualities that clashed horribly with the scepticism within her mind. Despite it not being one of her strongest suits, when it suited her faux-enthusiasm or feigned-interest were easy to pull off and now was one of those times. It's not like I'm obliged to tell you these things after all--I'd be absolutely alright with expressing the innermost workings of my mind to a complete stranger. Oh yes. She blinked, fidgeting slightly with her robes now, both concerned with what the answer could be and if she would receive an answer at all; maybe he intended to introduce himself at a later point as he specified or maybe he had intended to keep his identity a secret from the very beginning. She could not help her desire to know, to be cautious (especially after that display of negligence). It was beyond her control to keep the need to know buried safe under indifference, though if he persisted in not giving her a response she would drop it eventually. "I only ask because I'd like to know who I'm telling these details to; it's not often that I'm asked these kinds of questions," And it was true; the only record of her existence was in some obscure file locked away in one of the Second Division's cabinets. How could he know about her?

---

760 words/15 GP/72 GP Total

SPOILER: Click to show

I got to it early xP.

I blame it on my inability to understand chemistry.

[/spoiler][/p]

Knowledge The Swordbreaker

Transcendent

7,668 Posts

RankKyousuke Tsukimiya ApplicationAsk no Questions ThreadsHear no Lies

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 14, 2013 12:39:04 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 14, 2013 12:39:04 GMT -5

No openings in the Second, he thought to himself. Sounds like the usual excuses my predecessors used to give. He wasn’t quite sure if Hurley or Satine had been captain back when Takasugi had been developing her poisons, but it could have been either of them. Hurley had been unimaginative and Satine too proud to resort to something like poison, but Kyousuke was willing to utilize any means necessary to achieve the desired results. Poison was definitely on the table, and Takasugi was going to be the one to give him something to work with.

He was leaning back against the wall with both his arms and his legs crossed, but he unfurled them as Takasugi voiced her question yet again. Kyousuke was unsure if her meekness was genuine or a tactical choice—some part of him hoped it was tactical. There was no place for hesitancy in Seireitei these days, but well-crafted, strategically deployed deception was rapidly rising to the top of solid traits to exhibit. He supposed there was no point in hiding it any longer, so he stood up and offered her a hand.

‘Come with me. I’d like to show you something.’

He left the cell with the prisoner in tow, and made his way through the musty air of the second level block of cells. One level above, the inmates were allowed to mill about freely, but down here, they were confined most of the time. They had their cell-mates for company and that was it. This was where people were put if their jailers were feeling particularly cruel—there was little rhyme or reason to how prisoners were sorted in the Nest. Nobody ever escaped anyway, so the idea of having multiple levels of security was really just a form of indirect, long-term psychological torture. The threat of being confined even more loomed above the prisoners of each level, keeping them in check. Only the last level, level three, had no such threat, and that was because it was difficult imagining a hell worse than the solitary confinement cells.

That’s where they were headed now, and Kyousuke went at a leisurely pace in order to make sure Takasugi could keep up. They passed a multitude of spacious cells, some empty but most of them populated by a pair of prisoners. Kyousuke walked in silence, paying them no mind, intent on the destination more than the route there. He didn’t even bother looking back to see if Takasugi was following him; down here she had nowhere to run, nowhere to escape to.

They reached the main staircase and descended to the lower levels, and Kyousuke stopped at the heavy metal door at the base of the stairs. Ages ago, someone had seen fit to scrawl the word hell on it, and Kyousuke couldn’t disagree. Down here was just about as close as you could get.

He pushed it open and stepped into the dim corridor, striding past the cells marked with names the outside world had long forgotten. Above, there were records kept of prisoners. They would move from level one to level two on the warden’s whim, and as such the anonymity of the cells were required. Down here, however, it was a different matter. Once you were confined to one of these cells, it was extremely unlikely you would ever leave. At this level, the Nest’s inhabitants were a permanent fixture and as such, they were given little name tags on their cell doors. Soon enough, they reached one cell with the bars seemingly blown inwards by some explosion—they were warped and twisted, half of them missing entirely, and the cell was empty.

Kyousuke pointed at the nametag. The name was faded but legible. Kyousuke Tsukimiya.

‘This was mine not very long ago,’ he said, stepping inside and touching the far wall where Gilgamesh’s swords had embedded themselves and threatened to skewer Kyousuke. On the floor, the manacles Kyousuke had worn for almost two years were split in two, and he turned to nudge them lightly with one of his sandals. ‘Back then, I wore white, just like you. Gilgamesh set me free because I had a purpose to fulfill. Ironic, that he gave me command of the same division that had kept me locked away for so long.’ He sighed, and sat down on the narrow bunk, motioning for Takasugi to come sit next to him.

‘I’m here because I want to give you the same offer I was given. I’ll release you if you develop a poison for me. You’ll be reinstated at your former rank, all records of your previous mishap will be destroyed, and you’ll be given a fresh start. You’ll have your pick of which division you want to join, and as long as you don’t try to run, nobody will ever bother you again.’ He shot her a sidelong glance, his expression indecipherable. ‘It’s a good deal. You should take it.’

°827

Sorry for the delay!

Takasugi Ayumi

660 Posts

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 16, 2013 5:56:03 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 16, 2013 5:56:03 GMT -5

She was met with more evasiveness despite her polite questioning, yet she was not actually offended by it; simply set on edge even further but it simultaneously made her wonder why he was hiding his name; it was but a name. Ayumi decided to reign her tongue and remain silent--she doubted questioning him further would yield better results and the intimidating air he held had yet to dissipate. The brunette was, however, surprised when the man opposite her suddenly unfolded his crossed arms before standing up and extending a hand towards her. Something to show me? Her apprehension was rapidly replaced by curiosity to know what he meant. She accepted the proffered hand without a word and stood up as well before following him out of the cell, her mind reeling with questions that she could not voice yet. With every footstep they moved further and further away from the dull cell she had been confined in for a good majority of her life, down twisted, dimly lit corridors that reeked of staleness.

On either side were prisoners, some leering openly at the two of them. As they reached a thick metal door with the word hell unceremoniously scribbled on it and ambled down a flight of dark, unending stairs, Ayumi became distinctly aware of what the man had intended to show her; the third level of confinement. She had only ever heard rumours and threats about it, only ever been able to form an opinion of it based on what had been through a dozen other mouths. It's absolute torture. It was where the warden told prisoners in her level they could go to if they didn't remain civil or avoid fistfights and even though nobody had ever lived through the ordeal to tell them about it, it served as a good enough warning to keep people in check. The third level of imprisonment was simply one of those things that was accepted without question and one of those things placed on her list of things to strictly avoid. Despite her fear of it she followed him; if she were to choose the alternative, then her life would once more disintegrate into a tedious existence in that cell. At the very least now there was some possibility of change, some hope for perhaps freedom.

Her eyes darted to the sides, noting that the cells here were smaller and actually had name tags beside the cells unlike the ones from her level--the idea was chilling; to know that this cell could be yours forever, that you might never get out or see other life again. How many people who experienced this form of torture were alive and well enough to speak of it? Or alive at all? Were they all dolls, sucked dry of all life? Probably, she noted grimly to herself as they stopped at one cell that differed from its peers vastly. The cell was severely damaged with half of its bars entirely missing and a section of the remaining half bent awkwardly inwards, as if they had been subjected to an explosion of sorts. The cell was empty, naturally; with that kind of an opening in the bars it only made sense for the prisoner kept in the cell to run when given the opportunity. The man pointed at the name tag which read Kyousuke Tsukimiya. Before she could ask about the relevance of some solitary-confinement inmate's cell to their conversation, the man pointed it out to her. It used to be his not long ago before he was set free. Her mouth fell open in a small circular shape as she took in her details--it seemed so odd that this perfectly healthy-looking man was in her shoes not long ago, no, in a condition worse than hers but was presently the captain of the second division. No overgrown hair or skeletal limbs or even visible scars to signify his torturous stay in the Nest. The outside world is that amazing, I suppose. Tsukimiya-san mentioned a Gilgamesh that made Ayumi blink momentarily, but she focused on the more important parts of his conversation. Taking a seat beside him, she listened with rapt attention to what he had to say.

To leave this miserable prison, to have all existence of her former blunders destroyed and be given a job? She cast him a wary glance as she digested it, awed at how ... convenient the proposition was, but it seemed genuine at the same time. It did not appear as if he was being dishonest--though he could have been an extremely skilled actor and liar. You should take it. She could no agree more and in an instant, her mind was made up; opportunities like did not come to many condemned to the Nest and she was well aware that this was something she would forever regret if she turned it down--despite her usual trouble with making decisions, this was quite possibly the easiest decision she had ever had to make. "I'll take it," She nodded in response, unhesitating, eager, earnest. A smile danced across her chapped lips. "I'll develop a poison for you," She repeated slowly, already making decisions and envisioning the life that lay ahead of her in her mind. Second Division. Sweets. An actual bed. A chance to start anew--is there a catch? Is it too good to be true?

"Ah ... is it too premature for me to decide which division I'd like to join, Tsukimiya-san?"

---

914 words/18 GP/90 GP Total

OOC: No worries! Also, sorry about the terrible post. Sleep deprivation D:

Knowledge The Swordbreaker

Transcendent

7,668 Posts

RankKyousuke Tsukimiya ApplicationAsk no Questions ThreadsHear no Lies

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 20, 2013 5:53:31 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 20, 2013 5:53:31 GMT -5

He had her.

Not that it was surprising, Kyousuke had jumped at the same opportunity a few weeks ago, and his situation had been self-imposed. There was something about the Golden Rule that was somehow polarizing: it either appealed or appalled. It had appealed to Kyousuke for the same reasons it had appalled Jasper Aizawa, and although Takasugi probably had no idea who Gilgamesh even was—Kyousuke hadn’t when he had come for him, after all—she seemed very eager indeed to accept Kyousuke’s offer. He was a king’s man now,

Which king?

and somehow he felt as though he could make no mistakes. Each step he took raised him higher and higher, brought him closer and closer, and though it brought him no joy, the satisfaction alone was worth pursuing. For Kyousuke, that is what the entire ordeal boiled down to: the satisfaction of a job well done, another checkmark in his long list of accomplishments. Never mind if he had switched sides, Kyousuke’s own perspective never changed. He was the outside observer, the objective frame of reference. His own stringent requirements were easily met, and this time he had achieved precisely what he had set out to do once again: he now had a poisoner. And despite how loose the collar was, despite how far the chain would stretch, Kyousuke had this woman on a leash. She was bound in servitude, and that, if anything, would guarantee results. Loyalty would perhaps come in time, but for now that was secondary.

‘You can pick whichever you like—and I assure you there’s no rush—but you’ll be given a private lab in the Second’s compound regardless. I’d like to stay involved with your work, and the more people who know you’re under my protection, the better. I won’t tolerate interference,’ he said, letting the from the Sixth go unspoken.

‘Well,’ he said, clapping his hands together lightly and standing up with a broad smile, ‘I can imagine you’re as keen on getting out of here as I am, so let’s get to it. I’d like to introduce you to my lieutenant, I’m certain the two of you would get along splendidly. Shall we?’

He stepped gingerly over the mangled bars once again, faint traces of feeling trapped dispersing, and he set off with his prize in tow, leaving the bleakness of Solitary Confinement behind him. Kyousuke thought back to the day he had been released, and the things he had wanted to do with his newfound freedom.

A proper meal.

A bath.

To see the moon—the real moon—again, to feel sunlight kiss his toes.

All of that and more was waiting back at the Annex, where his lieutenant would no doubt be waiting for his return. Kiriko would help Takasugi wash off the years of imprisonment, and then they would eat together and talk of the future.

Kyousuke stopped short. He had forgotten something.

‘One more thing.’ All this time had purposefully neglected one critical element. ‘I want you to tell me your name.’ Down here, it was easy to lose track of your identity, and refusal to acknowledge someone’s individuality was to hold power over them. Kyousuke needed to set her mind free just as much as her body, and since he had arrived he had intentionally treated her as an object, never referring to her by name. Now, that needed to change, and the best way to achieve that was to let her introduce herself properly in order to reaffirm her own value.

That, and there was something about reading someone’s name in a dossier that made them feel anonymous. Kyousuke couldn’t have such anonymity in a direct subordinate.

°615

ALMOST THERE

Takasugi Ayumi

660 Posts

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED] Mar 22, 2013 4:30:45 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 22, 2013 4:30:45 GMT -5

It was as if suddenly, years’ worth of pent-up frustration and cynicism had suddenly been peeled off her; gone was her original skepticism, her intense cautiousness of Tsukimiya-san and in its place had come gratefulness. It was a far cry from loyalty as she was aware this move on his part hardly was out of pity or his charitable or philanthropic nature and that there had to be benefits from it but despite that fact, she was and she would forever remain indebted to him for having released her from the hellish depths she had reluctantly called home for years. So much so that in sharp contrast to her earlier wariness, she was not even aware of how much control Tsukimiya-san had over her; a pull, an insinuation, a command and she knew she would run to his bidding if only to keep her freedom intact, if only the ensure the set of scales their barter system resembled was not thrown out of balance. The boundaries had been set up so far away from where she innocently stood that they seemed invisible to her eyes, but as long as they were not as restrictive as the walls of her cell were, as long as there were no imaginary shackles pinning her down, then it did not matter.

Her meekness dispersed as she followed Tsukimiya-san towards the warped bars of the cell. Captain--maybe even saviour, she reminded herself of his position, not stranger nor adversary. A flood of warmth rushed through her at the thought; the idea of belonging, of having companions and even a family of sorts, of at the very least being of use to another person was foreign to her after her dreary stay in the prison but like the ordinary person, she wished for them as well. As the miserable years dragged on, her view of herself crumbled--inconvenient, insignificant, tiresome. And now--strangely--someone had seen potential in her and the idea made her so very pleased. Over the years she had spent down here, she had given up on ever meaning more than dust to people, finding that it was a waste of her energy to hope but at present, the notion ignited a spark that had been extinguished long ago; the desire to live and to try had never been stronger. She nodded her thanks as the tall man assured her a private lab (oh the joy!) in the Second's compound and also his protection, presumably from the Sixth division. The thought of them made her shudder though her fear paled in comparison to her happiness. "Yes, let's," She agreed easily, the please in her voice obvious. She did not to spend a moment more than necessary in this dreadful place. Vaguely she wondered what his lieutenant was like.

What did she want after she left? An actual bed to sleep in, with an actual blanket. Food that was not watery or tasteless. I'd like to feel the wind again. I'd like to take a bath ... and Higekihime. I want to hear her voice again ... the list was endless. There was so much that she had been deprived of, so much that she had once taken for granted. She could not even comprehend the number of thing she wished to experience upon her departure, but to experience them at least once again would be enough. Through the sting of tears, she looked up as she was asked another question. A dash of salt touched her mouth as she began to answer, for the first time since her internment feeling alive. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that he knew her name, he had to have known if he had committed the details of her file to memory and the reason behind the question was not to gather information about her. There was something kinder, something less clinical about the question.

"Ta ... " she began. The sounds felt heavy and foreign in her mouth, the meaning of the name fading and fraying in her mind—she had only been another prisoner (or worse, a string of less than appropriate words), or maybe vermin to her peers and the wardens. There was nothing that distinguished her, nothing that honestly made her Takasugi Ayumi. Outside, identity was valued--it could not be taken from you, nor could you lose it in other forms. It defined you and separated you from other people, yet it endeared you to your companions as well. There had never been a sense of that in the Nest, never that distinction from your neighbours. Everyone was condemned equally. "Takasugi Ayumi," she murmured, her head dipping in a formal bow. And magically, mysteriously, she felt real; she felt like more than a few strokes placed together to form a name.

She could not wait for her freedom and for all the things it included.

---

818 words/16 GP/106 GP total

COMPLETED! ;D

Bleach Gotei

The Outside World [Closed/PG/Kyousuke][COMPLETED]

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 1, 2013 5:52:53 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 2, 2013 13:27:11 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 2, 2013 22:02:22 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 4, 2013 4:25:26 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 4, 2013 16:33:46 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 5, 2013 9:20:05 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 6, 2013 8:04:44 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 14, 2013 12:39:04 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 16, 2013 5:56:03 GMT -5

Post by Knowledge on Mar 20, 2013 5:53:31 GMT -5

Post by Takasugi Ayumi on Mar 22, 2013 4:30:45 GMT -5

Welcome!