[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Northwest Seireitei

Shinigami

Administrator
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“ Lieutenant Ueku,Takahiro. I know you’ wanna fight but I need ya’ somewhere else. If yer’ pissed suck it up. Should be another one in a thousand years so you’ll get ya’ chance. I want ya’ to go to the human world n’ find Lieutenant Hyouzoku. Yer’ gonna go there ta' help him take care a’ some business. Somethin’ about humans with spiritual power n’ somethin’ else. He’ll explain more when ya’ get there. I dunno' which city he's in so ya' can go to each one together or split up,
it don't matter ta' me either way. ”

He gave Omoni a slight wink as they turned to leave and Nibui a nod. Organized fighting wasn't his jam; he'd prefer to face what's out in the world of the living. Turning to see Metsu look at him before turning off to 5th Division, Jinno waved him off and shouted.
" Go on ahead, I gotta go grab my shit. "
In a flash, he would be gone, off to his barracks. Loading up with his typical belongings he would fashion his massive zanpakuto to the harness on his back and wrap the chain around the length of his arm under his garb. Tying his sash tight and pulling the garb closed this would appear to be the most in uniform Jinnosuke has ever been. With a slick of his hand, his hair flapped back. He'd toss a can of Kurotsuchi hair gel into the bin.
" No more time to look pretty, got work to do. Plus Omoni likes my hair long and down. Sorry Pomp, you died. "
With that, he would head back out the door and leap onto the rooftops. Dashing off towards Tenth Divison.
" No idea why Metsu headed towards 5th.. ah well.. "
11th division ---> Traveling to 10th Division Barracks: Senkaimon

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Shinigami

Administrator
Hanabi had to take a moment when she was accosted with being berated for inadequacy in the eyes of the changed man before her. It helped her see some things clearly, even if they stung her. There was just one thing that was clear in her mind now as she took in one solid breath, catching the lump that had formed in her throat as a result.
Putting on the best smile that she could, even in the face of the shout of her superior, she gave one solid nod to his accusation -- his summation of her character here in the twelfth division.
"You are, correct, sir. I think I see what it is that I need to do."
She turned away from him, calmly, "I hereby announce that I will be retiring from the twelfth division. I believe that there is nothing good I can do here in this loop of self deprecation. It was an honor to see your work up to this point sir."
She hadn't a clue what it was that she would do from here, maybe find another squad to join, find a place in the rukongai to retire to, something...but, the twelfth was not the place for her any further.
As she was walking away from Nyaraku, and out of his office, she called back to him briefly, "Please do change back soon sir, you looked better before."
After she left the office, she went to collect her personal affects, made her way to the entrance of the twelfth division, and left the building and her lab coat behind. In her mind, she needed to find someone to talk to about what to do next.
 

Shinigami

Administrator
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Hideaki Shinoumourin, a man, a shinigami, a deserter finds himself in both one of the best and worst places he could be — behind the cold, sturdy heavy gates of the twelfth division. A century being awol has sparked a sense of accomplishment in the young shinigami, distancing himself in search of strength, strength that failed him when it was first tested upon his return. Robbed of one arm, rather reclaim what he has lost, he seeks to replace it, he takes a different path than the one he had previously traveled, yet his goal is still the same; strength. It is this path, this desire that brings him to his current environment, set off with the blessing of The Sixth Division’s de facto leader, Michi Kiyoshi.

Upon his arrival he announces himself, while presenting paperwork. He declares his business is of the utmost importance but..important for who? He requests to speak with someone in the division with authority, and is met with an incredulous look. Was the Sixth Division seeking top secret information? Or, perhaps this was a task for the Nobles, the papers were signed by a Kiyoshi after all. It couldn’t have been a task handed by the Commander or the Central 46, they had their own methods of relaying orders. No, neither one of those could be correct. While he did say the matter was of the utmost importance, he also said it was personal. This meant it had no true bearing on the nobles, or the Seireitei as a whole…this…Hideaki, was here to bother them to make something for him. If that was all he was here for, why the secrecy and feigned urgency? The cloak and dagger, and more importantly…why did he need someone with authority for such a thing?

The Shinigami couldn’t understand the man’s thoughts, and if he was wanting to discuss the matter with someone in the division with authority, only one man truly came to mind. He wasn’t looking forward to bothering the man in question with such a matter, in an act of self preservation he’d be sure to get another colleague to make the call. Hideaki is escorted towards an area where he could wait while the Shinigami goes in search of a sacrificial lamb. As Hideaki sits, he perceives those who pass by him to be looking at the state his body is in, and while this may be partially true for some, others were merely curious as to why he was here and who in the world had let him in.
The sound of sizzling distracts the transformed brainiac from his current distraction that was Hanabi. He turns and refocuses on his project, as the water bubbles in the flask, foam beginning its journey towards the top of the glass container. He lifts the flask from the flame, studying the contents, the liquid inside shifting back and forth in hue.

"You are, correct, sir. I think I see what it is that I need to do."

His ”colleague” starts off by stating the obvious. Of course he was correct, the man hardly ever erred in judgement or act. His hands continue on, he cannot stop now, quickly moving over to pour the liquid into another glass container, mixing in with its contents. His eyes strain, focusing intently on the chemical process taking place before him, a single bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, traveling down the bridge of his nose, lingering at its tip. WIth his focus elsewhere, he does not see Hanabi turn from him.

"I hereby announce that I will be retiring from the twelfth division. I believe that there is nothing good I can do here in this loop of self deprecation. It was an honor to see your work up to this point sir."
The announcement of her resignation or, rather her transfer out of Twelfth Division garners no response or reaction from the man, it was debatable if he was even paying attention at this point. Licking his lips he carefully places the emptied flask down, moving his head just as that lingering bead of sweat drops down onto the table, having missed the glass beaker by a hair’s breadth. He grabbed a stirring rod and began stirring the contents inside, the clanking of glass hitting glass and the sloshing of the liquid filled his ears as he watched the pink bleed into red, and that red soon changing into purple.

"Please do change back soon sir, you looked better before."

Hanabi’s quiet voice falls on deaf ears or rather distracted ones. Even if he had heard, he’d pay it no mind. What form he adopted was inconsequential, what mattered was he maintained his brilliance and his ability to still experiment and perform. Physical beauty or attraction was subjective, and irrelevant to those who tread the path of science. Through science anything was possible, a hideous beast could become a dazzling beauty, a cripple could be made whole, it is with and through science that they will advance and be secured for decades, centuries, millenia to come.

’Uh Nyuraku sir-’

Several minutes had passed since Hanabi had vacated his sanctuary, undoubtedly to clear out her office, workspace and barracks, unbeknownst to him of course. Another distraction, this time in the voice of another, interrupts his peace.

”WHAT NOW?”

He asked, clearly perturbed at being bothered right now. He looks up from his work table towards his computer to see the face of the latest nuisance.
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A man, eyes hidden behind thick lenses, with ears covered by headphones jolts at Kurotsuchi’s response. It appeared the shinigami who had guided twelfth’s “guest” inside had found their scapegoat.

’There’s a Hideaki person from Sixth Di-’
”And?”

Nyu impatiently interrupts the stammering man as he speaks, trying to relay the information.

’Well, he’s here, and injured -’
”And?”


Again the man is interrupted, Nyuraku’s voice rising. It seems he was insistent on interrupting the messenger just as he had been rudely interrupted while he was working. It was also clear that this was not the Fourth Division, as it should have been known. An injured shinigami was of no importance to them, if they were hurt they should go see the medics, rather wasting time bothering those in the Institution of Research and Development.

’Well he had a paper signed by Michi Kiyoshi an-’
”AND?!”


Kurotsuchi practically shouts, his voice echoing throughout his lab, easily heard by those on the other end of the screen other than the one to whom the words were directed.

’HE SAID HE’S GOT IMPORTANT BUSINESS AND WILL ONLY SPEAK WITH YOU SIR!’

He shakily speeds through the rest of his message, sealing his mouth shut as he awaits the scientist’s response. Nyuraku stares…dumb founded by the situation. Was he truly being bothered by something so trivial, because of someone equally irrelevant. Who was this Hideaki and what obligation did Kurotsuchi have to personally see him to indulge whatever silly little request he had?

”If you don’t just send him away and-”

He pauses mid-sentence, eyes glancing down at the various flasks and beakers spread out, some empty, others filled with vibrantly colored liquids or dark mury concoctions. Nyuraku strokes his chin, propping himself up against the table for a second.

”Very well, bring him to me. Oh, prepare the documents as well.”

While this was indeed a rather upsetting annoyance and delay, he could also look at it as an opportunity. Nyuraku Kurotsuchi was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

On the other end of the screen the video is cut off, canceled on Nyuraku’s end. The shinigami breathes a bit easier. He heads over towards a filing cabinet, as outdated as it may appear he enjoyed it for its ‘rustic’ appeal. He opens it up, leafing through various folders and pages before withdrawing a series of papers. Closing the cabinet he hurries out of his smaller office, lab coat swishing about as he stumbles and slides along the floor in his hurry to fulfill his assignment. The sound of squeaking and then skidding reaches Hideaki’s room well before the man comes wheezing and stumbling in. He takes a breath, fanning himself with the papers in hand. Many of those in Twelfth were far from warriors or athletes.
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”Hideaki right? If you would, come with me please. I’ll guide you to who you need to see.”

He shoots the one armed shinigami a smile, turning to begin leading the way, expecting the man to follow without much complaint or delay. Afterall, it was him who said it was an important matter, so he of all people should be the last to try and dally.

”Man, I honestly thought he was going to shout at me and make us kick you out ahaha. You sure lucked out.”

He laughs the matter off as he makes small talk during his escorting. One look at the man, his manner of speech and disposition and it is clear that he is not a man of authority and influence, but that didn’t matter, since it seemed he was being directed by one who was. The guide rambles on about being tired, and how everyone’s always so busy, his back problems, and how he thinks he may need a stronger prescription for his glasses, giving Hideaki little room to interject or respond to anything being said, if he wanted to speak at all. From all the ceaseless chatter it seemed they had arrived near their journey’s end sooner rather than later. Suddenly, the guide comes to a halt.

”Ah, before you enter if you want anything done by him you have to sign this waiver.”

The man turns to present the papers and a pen, holding out the papers on one hand as though his palm were a platter, and offering a pen with the other. This was common practice for the Kurotsuchi, the only exception to date being when the previous Commander had him cure or rather help the shinigami infected with hollowfication. Hideaki unfortunately was no Commander, not even close. If he wanted anything done from Nyuraku he would sign, if not…he could leave. Nyu didn’t care either way, certain that whatever it was that the man wanted to ask of him was something so simple a child could accomplish it. Near the entrance to the lab a slight shifting to the side, and a glance inside would give him a glimpse of the back of the man he wanted…needed to see. If he signed the guide would simply allow him to continue inside unimpeded, though…he could potentially force his way in to plead his case as well, though there was no telling how he would be received if he presented himself in such a manner, or…he could just leave. Three options lay before Hideaki, one assured his safety, two came with risks, and one path assured that despite the risk he could acquire what he desired. What choice did the wounded wolf intend to make?
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Shinigami

Administrator
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The Shifting Time of Science
One hundred years ago the Seireitei was threatened with destruction due to the Kōtotsu somehow breaking out of the Dangai. Many took action during this event, and many did not, including this individual. Locked away in their studies and research they cared little for the happenings outside of their barracks. Months later after the Kōtotsu event a new group of Vizards were born, dropped off at the gates of Twelfth Division even, and despite all their knowledge on biology and ability to potentially help they did not answer the call instead allowing it to fall into the hands of Nyuraku. The data on Vizard’s was not something limited, infact, enough is known about them to develop a cure for their condition, although there are few that know of this person's existence to ask for a thing like that. And so on they toiled with their data, research, and experiments until they finished recreating something only their clan has knowledge of creating, a Bakkōtō. It was around the time the Captain Commander was announced when the mollusc-like parasite opened its eye for the first time to look upon its master.
Before it was ever affixed to a weapon this person needed to get approval to use it. Looking at the current climate of the Seireitei and how they allowed multiple prisoners to join the Gotei, one in particular being from the Muken itself. Then the allowance of the Vizards to continue operating as soldiers told them all they needed to know about how the winds were shifting. Gaining an audience with the Central Forty-Six was trivial as this person is not only part of but head of the infamous Kasumiōji, a clan that is second only to the four great noble clans and currently is in prime position to replace the disgraced and fallen Kuchiki. However their leader has not an ounce of care or worry for such things and only chooses to look forward to their research. The first meeting with Central went well as they asked if they could recreate the Bakkoto, thinking the art of creating such a weapon was lost long ago. They were curious to see if they could even do it, not knowing they had already made one. On the next meeting they brought the parasite in a sealed container, understandably so they were shocked. Such a thing was at first denied and an order to destroy the creator was given then quickly rescinded.
For the next twenty years the Kasumioji head was tasked with giving weekly updates on the parasite, along with meetings on how this creature can be of safe use to the Gotei thirteen. The head began to get short with Central as at this point the parasite was nothing more than a pet, new data cannot be given until it is affixed to a weapon. One day, after returning from another pointless meeting they crossed paths with Nyuraku Kurotsuchi as they were returning to the solitude of their lab. The blue haired man questioned them about the parasite, what it was, and its purpose. Happy to divulge this info to their senior they told him and how their studies have ground to a halt considering it is a glorified pet. Without the need of convincing or asking Nyuraku volunteered himself to join them at their next meeting. As the de facto-leader of Division Twelve his word carried more weight than the Kasumioji’s not to mention his scientific knowledge was more well respected. The head of the clan was an unknown shut-in who showed up out of the blue with the parasite and given the clan's history Central was hesitant to trust them.
A verdict was eventually reached, under the watchful eye of Kurotsuchi they would be able to use the Bakkoto. The data collected would have to pass through Nyuraku before reaching Central and once proven to be a viable weapon that can be controlled without the loss of the users life then they can begin producing them in mass. This, however, put a spotlight on them for the first time since joining the Gotei Thirteen. Their freedom and life are on the line with the ever watchful eye of Central Forty-Six upon them, their name is….
The Slime Girl
Kai Kasumiōji of Twelfth Division!
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Present Day
The bright haired girl sits in her lab going over data she collected from a hollow she had defeated during her last outing to the World of the Living, which was about a week ago. The Hollow was nothing to study, just the run of the mill standard threat that even academy students could handle. No, this data involved her Bakkoto and its infection rate. While using her Gyokuji (玉璽, Sovereign's Seal) to cap the flow of her Reiryoku she purposely fed the Bakkoto, allowing it to grow in strength and increase its infection along her arm. With her device the infection rate was halted. All of this is knowledge she knows about, however it was a test as she let the infection recede only to let it take over again. The Bakkoto is a living organism and as such it holds the possibility to be trained, much like dieting in a sense. Consume smaller portions and allow one's stomach to “shrink” so they get full faster, this methodology is being applied to Hyakume, Kai’s Bakkoto. If proper training can be done then the use of external devices may not be needed. Naturally, however, it is in a parasite's nature to consume endlessly so it may be a fruitless effort, this does not mean other experiments are not being conducted alongside this one.
Kai could easily make a new one, “reprogram” the cells in its genetic make-up so when it is born it understands the concept of being “full”. So much can be fixed and changed in its genetic make-up to remove these “negative flaws” but so much could be lost in exchange. Playing with DNA, changing, adding, or removing things can have negative effects on the organism and can birth something inferior or something far worse than the original. Kai has all the means necessary to contain or destroy a project gone wrong, but the effort put into doing that can be put into trying to train the original model. The troglodytes in Central would never understand such a thing and would order her to continue down a useless path of modification and destruction until something so horrid is born the rest of the Gotei must step in with the Bakkoto project being canceled.
She has nothing but time on her hands to wait for this data to process and so she decides to leave the comfort of her lab to get Nyuraku’s opinion on her current experiment. Before she can even get up to leave a call is transferred to her lab. She stares at the monitor seeing who it was transferred from and who the caller is.
“Shizuka Hyouzoku, Lieutenant of 10th Division, inquiring about extensive info about a…..Stephania Shingetsu that resides in Naruki City. Rumored to be a spiritually aware Human. Anything would suffice.”
”Hello Lieutenant Hyouzoku! All info we have concerning the world of the living comes directly from Divisions Tenth and Thirteenth! This data is stored and cataloged for our convenience of course! However, if you are requesting information on someone out there you don’t know then there is a chance that we don’t know either! Please record any and all info on this person so it can be cataloged and try not to contact us again about something so pointless you troglodyte!”

She promptly disconnects the call and rises to her feet to make way to her Senior’s lab. Making use of her Shunpo she glides from her location to Nyuraku’s. She notices the pyrotechnic enthusiast making her way towards the gates of Twelfth Division with many things in hand, she notices it and puts no further thought behind what she has already observed. Shortly after that she hears Nyuraku inside, his voice rising in annoyance with someone.
”AND?!”
It peaks, but where most would be hesitant to enter a room where someone was just yelling Kai wastes no time opening the door, catching the tail end of what her senior was saying.
”Ah! A new volunteer sir? Wh-BLEGH…”
In the most foul display someone could put on Kai vomits onto her lab coat mid sentence from laying eyes upon her senior. Right after the disgusting act she pulls out a vile that she drips onto her coat, the liquid eats away at the organic waste expelled from her mouth, wiping out all traces of its existence and even eliminates the smell. Flesh eating bacteria, modified of course, for use in cleaning up spills and the like, dries up rather quickly when no more organic matter is consumed, however, be sure never to get any on exposed skin.
”What sort of foul abomination have you turned yourself into, sir? Is it some sort of tonic for espionage? Or is- Nevermind, irrelevant. I was here to ask you about your thoughts on training a Bakkoto to eat less, to shrink its stomach so it’ll get full faster, on its own without external aid.”
If she had physical eyes they would be rolling right now as she thinks on what to add to this statement.
”Parasites by nature eat and eat until the food source is gone… Hmm could we perhaps somehow trick it into thinking the source is gone instead?”
Now more and more questions and theories begin to pop into her empty skull bit by bit. She is not so rude or inept to prattle on without receiving a response as what she has on her mind could be incorrect or irrelevant compared to what her Senior could say.
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GhostSnake

Administrator
Staff member

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As Hideaki of Six Division contemplates the decision laid before him, hesitant on which path he should choose to walk on. It is understandable to be hesitant, striking a deal with a member of the Twelfth Division was akin to shaking hands with the devil. There's no telling what ulterior motives lay beneath the surface of their brilliant minds, especially the mind of Nyuraku Kurotsuchi. Nyuraku however is not waiting patiently or even eagerly for the Sixth Division drone to come to a decision, the longer Hideaki waits, the more he drifts from the notice and memory of the Brainiac.

”Ah! A new volunteer sir? Wh-BLEGH…”

The "Princess's" voice chimes in as annoyingly joyful as always, only to b obstructed by her certain, and overdramatic retching, spewing out the disgusting bile on her once pristine lab coat. Such an act might be considered incredibly rude and offensive to another, striking at the core of their self esteem yet Nyuraku continued to work unperturbed. The clacking of glass against glass fills the silence as if acting as a surrogate for the man's voice, responding to the disrespectful woman. A vile is retrieved from the confines of her coat, its contents spilled onto the bile that stained the white of her attire restoring it to its pristine state.

”What sort of foul abomination have you turned yourself into, sir? Is it some sort of tonic for espionage? Or is- Nevermind, irrelevant."

Good, it seems the woman understood she was making a trifle over nothing. Her words were, just as she had stated herself; irrelevant. Kurotsuchi continues working diligently, not offering the woman a response, not even bothering to shift his eyes from the task before him to gaze at the intrusive woman.

"I was here to ask you about your thoughts on training a Bakkoto to eat less, to shrink its stomach so it’ll get full faster, on its own without external aid.”

As he was stirring, mixing, observing and studying he came to a halt at the mention of a single word; 'Bakkōtō'. Although the woman could be rather draining and infuriatingly disruptive at times, she was impressive in her own right. Subpar and vastly inferior in comparison to himself of course, but impressive all the same. When she approached him a century ago regarding her work on the forbidden tool of her clan, his interest was admittedly piqued. A living thing that was neither human, nor hollow, nor was it a Quincy or Soul. It was not a blank, nor was it a bount, and though a weapon it was vastly different from the Zanpakuto of either Shinigami or Arrancar. Yes, it was a parasite, a creature often considered vile by others due to its need to feed off of a living host in one manner or another. They had managed to succeed in allowing the continued development and experimentation of the parasitic weapon, largely thanks to Kurotsuchi's success in successfully aiding the hollowfied Shinigami during the Kuchiki incident.

Nyu's hands came to a halt, the sound of liquid bubbling bridging the silence between the two. He glanced over his shoulder at his peer, only to turn back towards the work at hand.

"And just why would you go through the bother of training it to eat less?"


He asked, genuinely confused by the notion. A single hand moved back, pointing a finger towards Kai without Nyuraku himself ever turning to face her.

"You are the Master, that thing is but a tool, a slave to your whims. Rather training or teaching it anything, why not go the simpler route. Reprogram the cells composing that mere parasite, so that it is convinced that it's feeding even when its not. This way, any amount of spiritual power fed to it will be seen as a bountiful dessert to it, filling it faster than what would normally be required. This should also allow you to pull more work from the wretched thing with less effort."

Nyuraku's hand moved from pointing at her. Prior to returning to work it came to another stop. His limb seemed to stiffen, his back and arm twitching and spasming. His hands came slamming down atop the table before him, fingers clutching fiercely to the edge as his spiritual pressure began to rise, then lower, fluctuating and spiking here and there. The madman clenched his teeth, the sound of bones cracking and joints popping became audible, his back growing more and more hunched, the pony tail coming undone as his hair became disheveled. This transpired for but a few seconds, yet for him...it felt as if minutes had gone by. His breathing was notable labored before coming under the man's control once more. He released a heavy breath, a shaky hand moving to push his hair from his face, combing through the deep blue locks slicking it back.

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"Hmm, I suppose time is up then."

The bugeyed hunchback had returned, stroking his chin in thought before moving over to reclaim his clipboard and pen, transcribing the current results onto paper. He'd be sure to transfer the information to his computer at a later time. He turned around staring at his colleague, now appearing noticeably shorter in stature due to returning to his slouching nature.

"Were there any other trifles you needed to consult me on? How is your brain doing these days by the way? Are you properly tending to it, if need be I could also assist in ensure it is properly safe and secured. We shouldn't leave these things to chance no?"

As always, he seamlessly blends in the matter regarding her brain. Unknown to many, Kia's brain is actually not located in her skull. While he is privy to this information he is not fortunate enough to be privy to the location of this organ, something he repeatedly attempts to remedy. Today would be no different.
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