[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Northeast Seireitei

[BSD]

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Gates flung open, and the one stepping through them was a catch. Strolling members of the Ninth were clearing the way for a hunched Jatiri with blood shot eyes. Trudging, he was eyeing those who eyed him. He stopped for a moment, took in the colony of eyes, kept on toward a building. Having entered the former Captain's office, Jatiri, seated at a never ending table, his chin on his hand, other hand clutching his stomach, scanned through some reports. Facing such reports, his eyes shot up.
"Jatiri-san."
Blurted a Shinigami who, for several minutes, had battered the door to the room. She was approaching.
"You're still here? I thought you bailed like the others."
She sank into a chair next to him and took the report that he had been reading. He leaned back.
"Others? like who?"
"You know...Kyuuzou, Jiroshizo, Jigoku, Ijoushi. They all went poof."
He brushed through his hair. Whatever had pulled those guys away must've been dire, more dire than Maho's passing. Why else would they have left? Why else hadn't Kyuuzou avenged his late brother? Had he let the murder go? If he had, why shouldn't Jatiri? Besides, it wasn't like violence would raise Maho from the grave. Violence would only bring about more violence. And Jatiri, a new recruit, shouldn't smudge his own path just yet.
Despite those near and far, piling up corpses, he must carry on honing his skills. It was the only way that he could conjure up peace of mind. And someday, if he lived until then, he too would be performing ugly acts. His hands would be soiled like all the other hyenas. The blood of his victims would be blanketing him.
Rising from his chair, shuffling for the pond ahead, stooping over, heaps of clear liquid escaped his mouth. He peeked at his reflection. How could he face himself? If his mentor was privy to his thoughts, what would he think? Had he failed his student so miserably, or did his student fail him?
Returning to the table and gathering up the reports, he evaded his peer's face. Even a mere glance would be too much.
"Do you mind? I really feel like being alone right now."

 

[BSD]

While the duo sit in stunned silence from their sudden and unexpected promotions, the Captain’s face is stuck in an odd smile, seemingly begging for a more… verbal reaction. The two had just been given great news but they both seemed unpleased, almost unnerved as if they had received punishments. Was their praise that unwarranted? Perhaps Yū had jumped too far to a resolution, desperately seeking to fill his top ranks without more adequate examinations. Or maybe Junko and Emi didn't believe themselves to be nearly as important as their Captain viewed them, nor could they understand the potential Yū knew they carried.
Unfortunately, the only physical reaction Yū gets to his lengthy report is one from Emi’s cats, a brave feline hopping onto his shoulder before resting peacefully. It isn’t met with much reaction as the Captain does enjoy the company of cute animals… but, typically not during important meetings like this one. Despite his own slight discomfort, her pet makes itself comfortable enough, nuzzling against his face before resting. But suddenly, the door swings open revealing a monstrous figure emerging from the hallway.
“ Yo, kid. Junko, and…..who’re you?”
However, her pet’s tranquility is short-lived as the loud entrance of the division’s Lieutenant startles the boy enough that he shoots straight up to his feet, his hands gripping the desk for support. As a result, the cat is equally alarmed, leaping off Yū’s shoulder and scurrying wherever it pleased. A sudden jittery mess in the face of his intimidating subordinate, Yū beats Emi to the punch by exclaiming his own question before allowing her to introduce herself properly.
“Omoni! I-uh… Is your meeting with Lieutenant Oki finished already?”
… Yū blurts out, stammering over his words a little. While he hadn’t expected her presence, it was still comforting to see her face... despite the perpetual grimace that remained on it at all times.

 

[BSD]

The strange man's face twisted into a grin as she had begun to play. This was good, probably. Did he not see her as a threat any longer or simply felt more than prepared now to take her out when he felt the need? Both were true enough as she could see, there was little reason why the man would be incapable of the same now. The stillness that stood about them after the last note of her song had played, after his Zanpakuto appeared to recede, after he spoke his words. It was suffocating. He had looked upon her with a gaze that seemed to be gathering her worth. What would that be? No longer surrounded by his Zanpakuto she wondered if perhaps he had finished with her.
Yet his eyes were still fixated, still waiting for something from her. Hands began to lift off the koto, preparing to transform it back into her simple sword when the ground beneath her separated from the rest of the earth about her and rose into the air. Fingers once more touching the strings softly now, not with malice but with hopelessness. She had become a plaything. Perhaps she had always been one. In this life. In her previous. What about those before? It seemed likely she had been such a worthless person then as well. All of her hopes and wants amounted to nothing before those would would tread upon her for their own amusement before leaving her behind. Perhaps that was all she had been to those in Second. A toy that had been used until it was useless and discarded. Was it a mercy Kyomu had not killed her within the Maggot's Nest if he saw nothing in the woman that would prove to be of any threat no matter where she went? A shattered doll roaming the streets of the Seireitei would never be a threat to him.
The man on his own separate platform before her spoke more. Of death and pride. Of change. Was she capable? Nothing had occurred since he had begun speaking to her that was not what the man had wanted to happen. Nothing had truly changed. Her strings were simply in other hands now, moving her about for their own entertainment until he, too, deemed her too broken to bother with anymore. Her eyes would not seek his again. Simply listening in silence, she wondered if this was his finale. Would he now throw her off the raised arena? Fling her off to some distant place? Perhaps that would be mercy. His words reached her as if an echo now, so far away from her.
Strength was something those who were strong liked to speak of often. What would she know about it? He most likely knew this. Her silence was met, unexpectedly, by the lowering of the platform she sat upon. He seemed to move faster than her, though she could feel his gaze still hovering upon her form. A small shimmer and the koto was gone, fingertips softly touching her blade. No intention rose from within her to wield it against the man, simply staring at the shining blade that sat in silence to her as it usually did. Once more upon the ground she considered thanking the man. Would he allow her to leave now? It didn't matter. He had given her a short respite from herself while in the same moment reminding her of what she truly was. Head hanging low she gazed upon her Zanpakuto, the ground nestled in along with the rest. A scar in the dirt where the platform had been, showing where it had been uprooted. She supposed she was neither the castle nor the moon. She was this marred patch of ground.

 

[BSD]

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Unseated Ninth Shinigami were exiting the captain's quarters, Jatiri behind them. Discussions had transpired within the quarters, and decisions that had been reached by Jatiri were being talked about by each of the departing attendees. Jatiri faded from view, almost a ghost. Too much talk sickened him, and the fifty ton barbell now in front of him was quite the looker. Elevating the barbell in one hand and rotating it all around himself as his posture varied was like a circus stunt. His handling speedy, he, without sweating, without labored breathing, sat the barbell down. Food. Where can I find some? In search, Jatiri…went in circles. The barracks were still too foreign to him, and having locked himself away in select rooms on prior days didn't help. He kept going around, skipping past the kitchen, but finally, something clicked. He made it. Licking his fingers, he scooted off with a bowl of cookie dough ice cream and would probably return for seconds. In his quarters, wrapped in blankets, his nourishing ice cream beside him, he kicked back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, off into space until his eyes emulated the fifty ton barbell. Carrying them high, suddenly, he hollered into his pillow. There was a tightness, a tightness lounging in his chest.
He wasn't allowed to make peace. Suffering was all he found, all he could fathom. Suffering had been hammered into him as "the way of life" since his early Rukongai days. His circumstances had never been satisfactory, his expectations never met. In this instance, unlike many others, was the tightness a thumping pain of his own making? Would this pain be present had he not resisted the idea of avenging his late captain? Crickets. Any desire to move on without settling accounts was artificial. His ambition, strength, in the driver's seat, it wouldn't stop growing. With such strength, maybe, just maybe, he could secure a desirable outcome, one that would put a big fat smile on his face, one that would bloody his knuckles. He hopped toward Kyuuzou's private dojo, digging through his belongings. There they are. Kyuu's heaviest set of wrist and ankle weights collected dust in a sizable cabinet. A cabinet that can support forty tons? Slipping on the weights, he was that much heavier. His movements natural, sharp, rapid, he swung his arms and legs. How can I make this more worthwhile? Then, it hit him. It started off as an idea, but as his spiritual pressure outlined his frame, his muscles flexed, he strained.
Exceeding his expectations, the resistance was thorough. His huffing and puffing, which adopted a rhythm, became more and more pronounced. He wouldn't stop now. His muscles aching, he hadn't felt this good in a while and the more repetition the better the results. Flailing around the dojo like an acrobat meant reaching new heights despite how ridiculous he looked. While sweat trickled down his neck like a narrow river, his muscles remained flexed. A warrior at heart, battling and pushing himself to his limits was common. Such ends were extreme and always came at a price. The price he'd likely pay would be laying up in bed with a handy tub of ice cream.

 

[BSD]

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Emi was frozen in a smile, as her felines were out of her hands. Well, Kooda had been scooped into her arms but was protesting it fiercely. She let him down and upon Saahasik’s startle she immediately scooped up the kitten and coo’d him. Calming both her pets, she retained a smile as best as she could while looking up at the barbarian-sized woman that entered. Before she could even answer, however, the Captian interjected his own questioning. What a shame, but nevertheless she was patient. In the meantime she returned to coddling her littlest kitten, he seemed a little frightened by the sudden appearances of loud sounds. Kooda could care less as he used the opportunity to slink out the door that Omoni had opened. He had enough of the nonsense that Emi was around at the moment, probably would tell another cat to check in on her later. The lass returned the gaze Omoni had while this all transpired, a smile staining her features ever still.

Whilst she waited to answer the woman’s question, or for it to be answered for her, she contemplated this promotion. She had been tinkering away in miscellaneous labs while toying with healing prototypes. While she had attended the required clinic times, she felt that such a promotion was unnecessary. Not that she would decline it but more so she felt unworthy of it. Her files were sorted for her, and she was on top of what she needed yet still nothing added up to raise her status. She didn’t try to dwell on it too long, as there were other pressing matters at hand. Even still, she was saddened to hear she probably wouldn’t be one of those allowed to venture out to the other regions. Not that she minded being cooped up in the ward, but Emi did want to have mini-adventures. Perhaps to test her prototypes, or to gather more cats. Who knows what would happen, she could only speculate. Lost in thought, Saahasik murred to rouse her from it. Her pupils refocused and she had let the train of thought run only for a few seconds.