[BSD-RP] Hueco Mundo

[BSD]

characters: Fabius
Location: Forest of the Menos
People involved: anyone.
If one were to wonder around in the forest long enough they would hear hollows wondering about, some in masses, others alone, or some hiding from other larger and stronger hollows. It was to say similar to the wild forests found in the land of the sun, predator and prey. Good? Evil? Merely a concept among primal beings. Some hollow gained their consciousness, and embraced the cruel world that Hueco Mundo has put them through, others given up and allowed themselves to be consumed by other hollows. Some had been fused together to become something else entirely, Meonos grande, Considered the weakest of all Menos, they are only foot soldiers following the orders of any hollow stronger than they are. Though they are weak they are still a struggle to deal with for lower ranks of all beings. They weren’t something to trifle with; they normally traveled in packs, a heard mentality was among them. Above a group of them in the trees was a Relatively small compared both Gillians and the tree, yet he was a powerful hollow himself, having lived on for the last 1700 years was not easy, but you tend to pick up a few tricks along the way.
There he watched as the Menos Grande walked about, stopping to observe their surroundings, spotting something at their feet, they all at once launched a cero obliterating the unfortunate hollow; to which they would begin to fan out, searching for more to kill. Fabius had been watching, carefully looking around to see if anyone of them had strayed too far, to which one did, following something, it was too far for him to see. Yet he leaped from tree trunk to tree trunk, digging his claws into the crystalline bark with the help of some Reiryoku he was able to keep his footing, and his eye on the prize, each leap brought him closer and closer, to both the Menos and what ever it had followed. As he crept closer the being that had been followed by the Menos had vanished into a garganta, to which the Menos had turned around and slowly walked back to its group. That’s when Elk leaned down, acting as a spear that had been thrown, his aim was to hit the Menos directly at the mask, both his claws began to gather Reiryoku causing them to sharpen quickly before hitting it with enough force break through the mask and skull. His head had lifted up, grabbing onto what he could, before pulling it down before consuming it like it was one long noodle. Once fully consumed he had bolted off in the opposite direction of the group, not wanting to face their wraith if they had found out what he did.

 

[BSD]

His breathing was heavy. Labored, and short. It was as if something was eating him from the inside and practically sucking the life out of him. There was a searing burn on his body in several places; he could feel the heaviness, hear the bubbling, and smell the putrid scent of the slime so close on several areas of his body. However, the ever-charging Gran Rey Cero had yet to falter. It seemed as if the pain had fired him up even more, and the hunger that started this all roared in the deep pits of his belly. He then swallowed the charging blast and allowed it to rest deep within the confines of his lungs. All of that concentration focused into one point of his body, untouched, and practically draining all other areas of the inner power.
He braced himself against the tree and began to shred his skin down to the bone as if he were a reptile naturally shedding out of their old skin. The effect was almost instantaneous, rippling, and tearing away like disturbed waters. It started at first at the center of his chest and spread out like wildfire, from the epidermis, the dermis, to the subcutaneous tissue and down to the bones that lie beneath from head to toe. The sudden influx of reiryoku to every single point in his body would prove too much for his own body to handle. During these times, the expelling of his genuine embodiment could even harm him, and so long as he could destroy those who opposed him, he could allow himself to tear his own body apart. Those things that dared to feed off of him could feed off the remnants of what was left of the already dying body, and that included that tail of his, which was merely deadweight that nearly became the fall of him. A new one formed in its stead, and he climbed higher.
Alternating the stalks and avoiding the slime that stuck to the bark, he pushed forward out of range. Nicolas’s aim was for the open hole in the black sky that was nearly out of touch. He was at the tip of the once-neverending stalk, and leaped up, twisting his body and made sure that he was once again facing the remaining masses that had yet to fall to his hands alone. That inner power that sat resting within his chest slipped out and burned bright as if there was a spotlight on the battleground beneath him, and his eyes were falling on the figure of the Forest’s King. If he wanted to reside here, so be it. Blood flowed, much more substantial, and Nicolas Presagio released a roar so loud it shook all of the trees within that three-hundred-yard range before him, and let it go.
”oooooOOOOORRAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
It was small. First, a straight shot line so thin and quick it was like a laser before growing exponentially in size that then doubled and made the first Nicolas had released become minuscule in comparison. Being charged for so long the build-up before the release was sure-fire in amplified power. The range of the blast had covered a three-hundred-yard diameter, decimating the remaining army of Adjuchas and Gillians within the area, shattering the silvery-stalks, and even having the ability to part the black seas had it not been ultimately absorbed. Without a doubt there would be a chance it could, however, the complete power within the Gran Rey Cero was far too much to simply handle all at once. In turn, using the pressure from the blast, Nicolas had launched himself back into the sky and past the barrier between worlds. Looking down, he hissed. As of right now, if the fight went on any further, the Espada would succumb due to a mistake on his part. He would retreat for now, but of course, he’d leave damage in his wake. The sound of the tall stalks crashed against the floor, the pressure alone forcing the area down to ground zero.
"PEQUEÑO REY!"
Screaming at the top of his lungs, Nicolas could hardly see the figures in that much of a distance left. The dust that kicked up from the last attack made things hard to make out. Bellowing, Nicolas had called out another word of challenge in the future had the little kind of the forest survived that second blast. Nicolas would need to improve drastically. For now, he would manage to escape by a hair. Maybe he would have to turn to his former Espada back in his fraccion days, that is if he was finally out of his deep slumber. For now, it was time to go into hiding. It was what the little Espada was the best at.

 

[BSD]

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Many things had changed in the last hundred years. Several centuries ago, something rippled throughout the dimensions, some unknown force capable of splitting everything at the seems. The very structure of the soul society had been crippled. This caused the soul society to act, unleashing upon Hueco Mundo an unnecessary blow to what little structure it had. With the disappearance of half its hollow population, including that of its leadership, all that remained fell into chaos and ruin. What untold anomaly had wrought such devastating change upon the numerous realms of the living and dead? it would seem that in the last three hundred years, not a single soul was capable of unraveling such a mystery.
In the distance, high above the Forest of Menos on the surface, a voice called out. It was faint, nearly silent at first. Slowly but surely it grew louder, closer, yet still somehow far away. Before long, space and time began to ripple and tear at a central point. The very fabric of reality began to shutter and bend, as a pair of fingers formed out of thin air. They scratched at the space as if pulling 'something' apart. Before long, a one-inch hole formed in the very fabric of reality allowing the voice behind it to cry out into the expansive desert that was Hueco Mundo. It was strenuous, thundering outward, shaking even the most battle-hardened warrior to his core. There was a sense of agony in it, pain even, stunting any in their tracks in order to take their focus. These fingers would peel back the dimensional space, reaching through was a pair of brown hands, pulling with all of its might in order to escape. They would grip the dimensional opening and with a mighty pull extend it about afoot.
"Graaa! RAAAAH! GRWAAAAAH!!!!"
Behind the veil was darkness. This was different than that of a standard Garganta. It was as if it weren't meant to be opened in the first place. In many ways, it resembled the dimension shattering event that had taken place long ago. An arm, caste in dense bone stretched out from the space, as the voice continued to roar outward. All of Hueco Mundo began to shake, rattled by the force of this Vagido (Lit. Childs Wail) along with the spiritual pressure. The louder this entity roared, the more the dimension began to split until its entire body dislodged itself from the dimensional hole. The being dropped to the ground, the hole closing up behind it. What remained was an Arrancar, left on its hands and knees. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of labored breathing. He was sweating profusely. He hadn't lifted his face from the floor, however, it was clear that he was male. He stared down at the white sand below, his jet black pupils recognizing the look and feel. He grabbed a handful of sand and allowed it to sift through his fingers. A sense of ease began to wash over him at this realization. Wherever he had been all this time had finally been escaped.
Slowly, this mysterious Arrancar rose to his feet, having to use his knees as support in order to make it the rest of the way. The trip had weakened him temporarily. He wasn't very large, only about Five-foot-six. His body was coated in bone from head to toe, however, he wore purple pants which covered his legs. Hold lined his collar and the guards on his feet, and behind him, his black cape waved in the subtle winds. He peered up at the infinite moon, its light reflecting off the darkness of his own eyes. His bronze flesh was pristine, appearing as though it had been finely crafted in a forage. His mind flashed back through all of his memories. The freshest were of the last three hundred years. All he saw was his torment in hell, not just his own, but of the millions and millions of souls housed in his being. He had lived all of their lives twice over, felt their happiness and their pain. The further he reached back into his mind, the more he was met with static. What had happened before he was trapped there. Who was He?
He diverted his eyes from the moon to his hands, they had been trembling. He was confused. Daresay afraid. What was he? Why was he here? His eyes focused forward, the towering structure that was Las Noches caught his eye. His face lit up, his eyes widened at its stature. It had been split in two. For a moment, there was the halved fortress of Las Noches, Then his face, Than Las Noches, then his face, until he came to a realization. A single memory, of him sitting in a stone throne. A number of Arrancar standing beside him. He looked around the sands beside him, a haze of faint purple reiatsu remained, staining the grass. He could see it and smell it. Whatever had once stood in this very spot, had significant strength. He would burn this presence into his very spirit as well as the spirits within him. He was intelligent enough to put two and two together. The faint trail of spiritual energy ran along the length of the desert sands, in the direction of Las Noches. The small Arrancar lowered its face, draped in shadow, for a single moment allow its spiritual pressure to escape from its body. His arms thrust outward, His voice activating the Vagido again.

I...AM...KIIIIING!!!!!!!!
His voice and spiritual pressure carried into the very depths of Hueco Mundo. No Hollow was spared of the words. His spiritual pressure stretched into the distance, weighing down heavily on the desert sands. The dunes were flatted out nearly a mile in all directions, the ground cracked and any hollow incapable of withstanding it was simply destroyed, its spiritual energy feeding directly into his body at a distance. This act of destruction fed this newfound Arrancar, combining the elements of several hollow techniques. Only a particularly powerful Adjuchas or the likes of an Arrancar could survive. The only memory he had been allowed to keep was the reality of his kingship. He had known who...but not how or why. None of that even mattered. For roughly thirty seconds this mild tantrum persisted, shaking Hueco Mundo to its core. Thousands of Hollows were destroyed and subsequently devoured by way of the Gonzui.
Eventually, he ceased his rampage. His spiritual pressure calmed itself. His eyes closed now recalling even his own name. He was Vincent Bautista the true King of Las Noches and Hueco Mundo. He had ripped himself from the clutches of hell, from the effects of the shattered dimensions event. He was home. He would bend his knee's suddenly, concentrating a large portion of his physical strength in his legs.

Pushing off the sands, his body rocketed into the sky, causing the ground beneath his feet to explode under the pressure of his immense weight. Large columns of stone broke apart and catapulted into the air behind him, followed by a tower of dust. In a single leap, he would travel miles of distance, landing with an equally powerful crash at Las Noches Front gate. It had been cleaved in two. Purple reiatsu festered at the severed doorway. He waltzed through, and wondered in, traveling to where the slash had ceased itself. What he found was that same stone throne, the only part of Las Noches which hadn't been severed for some reason. It was as if it had been awaiting its true masters' return. His eyes focused in on its shape, the framing around its edge. He would turn and sit, slowly. His eyes closed, trying to remember any names or faces. He couldn't. There was nothing but black and gray. He knew now that nothing had been the same since back then. The entirety of the fortress felt empty. There were no faces, let alone any familiar ones. There was nothing but silence and the light of the moon, shining down directly upon him. In order to attain his goal, he needed major players. Someone strong enough. In order to draw out Hueco Mundo's strongest, he would allow just enough, that he became a beacon. Only those with sufficient souls could evoches was now occupied by a strong presence. Las Noches True King had returned.

 

[BSD]

characters: Fabius
Location: Forest of the Menos
People involved: anyone.
Something felt strange, it was like the air of Hueco Mundo itself was changing. It was coming from above the forest. Something was coming, No someone, someone who did an impossible task, the feeling was familiar to him as he saw a Shinigami cleanse a hollow, only for it be sent to hell. What he smelled and felt were of a similar, he would never forget it either, it haunted him, greatly and he wondered if it was his fate to be sent to hell as well? That was a question he wished never to be answered. Though not long after a roaring voice would echo through out the forest, proclaiming that this being was king. Spirtual pressure pushed down on everyone within the forest. His eye lit up as he was forced to the ground the pressure was intense, each step he took was straining his muscles, his own Reiatsu was helping him but it was still like a he was pulling a large stone. All the while his eye shifted around looking for anyone that could be coming at him, though from the looks of it, he wasn’t the only one suffering from the effects of this reatisu, suppressing them.
The sight of a smaller hollow was caught in his peripheral vision, to which it would crumble into dust, making his eye as its essence was pulled up into the sand. What ever this being was, it was strong, and had the ability to drag essence away. Finally after sometime the reaitsu supressing stopped, there Fabius would breath, his eye shifting about, to look around for any movement, yet there was none, no being he could sense, no thing in sight, and worst of all no sound only silence. The forest already a disturbing place, filled with hollows ready to kill you if you just glanced at them. Now it was eerily quiet, Nothing around, no crunching of the sand, no hollows screaming in the distance, no large thuds from Menos Grande. He was about to wonder off back into the forest, but something again caught his attention, the sound of debris falling, where a pocket of light would flood into The Dark forests of Hueco mundo, it wasn’t often you would see light down here; this had caused his head to twist away, from the moons “bright” light as he was not used of it. His head shook as he blinked to adjust his eye sight, his thoughts running through his head, Well he might as well see what was the being that caused such destruction. Hopefully not become its meal…
There his head shifted up and his body lunged towards one of the many trees, digging his claws as deep as he could into the bark before climbing high. It was his preferred method of transportation, as it helped him avoid being spotted. There he leapt from tree to tree, not losing speed nor his high ground advantage; it felt like forever but he had finally made his way through the forest and to the large hole in the forest ceiling. Debris still fell, large chunks of rock continued to pour down with the sand, his eye shifting and watching before leaping towards one, each step he took allowed him hit a rock and use it as a platform to get to the next large chunk of rock, before finally leaning out from the sand. There he would breath with exhaustion, before sprinting out from the sinking hole; stopping a few hundred meters away from it and collapsing for a moment. Fabius shook his head once more, as he took a look at his surroundings. The land was flat, but there was a clear line on where the being was headed to… Las Noches, his head shook. That was the last place he wanted to be, but there he went, stepping forward, walking at a brisk pace, as he was catching his breath; before finally picking up his pace and running towards the fallen fortress, he wasn’t the fastest, but there he ran, kicking sand behind, in what seemed like hours he finally made it to the gates. There his head looked around, no sign of the being, but still he proceeded to walk in, though with his claws sliding out just incase something was to attack him.

 

[BSD]

His pond had become a lake, his lake, an ocean. All that fell to its depths were to be consumed by him, Nicolas was no exception. The small taste of Reiryoku sampled from the Ararrancar was pristine, and perhaps the best meal he’d ever have. The sky had been littered with the fodder under his reign still, the fragments of their tattered bodies encroached by the liquid’s dark embrace as they fell. As each protrusion pierced through the surface of his prey, he’d begin to celebrate mentally. Webbed fingers twiddled amongst themselves in anticipation. Anxiously he waited for the boy’s fall, as he would continue to. His resilience was not admirable, but rather frustrating. There was no price he wouldn’t pay to see him swallowed whole by the sludge.
He was King, after all. Some resistance is fine, even entertaining to an extent. But this? This was complete and utter defiance. It was unacceptable. Anger consumed him, wrath soon to follow. He looked upward at the skittering bug, soon to be crushed under his foot. There was a force quelling inside the Espada, seemingly causing him to almost rip at the seams or burst into pieces. There was no doubt that this was his final show of strength, but it too would fail. Some Gillians still surrounded the trees of white, while insignificant foot soldiers climbed at the base of the one Nicolas had chosen for his escape route. He would not get away, the king couldn’t allow it.
Just as the idea to chase Nicolas back down came into his frame of thought, he could not ignore the bellowing, blood-curdling roar that forced ripples onto his sludge. It stopped all movement, all thought. It was as if he was declaring himself, challenging the king directly. There was no chance to subdue this rebellion, however. A line of red crossed the entire space in a distant flash, before expanding to consume the bulk of the space. The sound of crashing thunder would not hold a candle to the devastating concussive force that came from the cero. It filled the void with rays of crimson indefinitely, and caused each figure remaining to fade from view and vanish in a sea of white and red. It tore through every inch of the putrid cesspool, jaws of ruby fire gnawing at the very core of the terrain cratering the sandy bedrock. It split the sea, which the King was powerless without, exposing the truth of his fragility, his very existence fading into the dust of his incineration.
Any of his subjects, had there even been any left, would return to the holes they crawled out of to fight amongst themselves for a crownless throne. In a week, or even less, there’d be a new “king”, or perhaps there already was?