[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Northwest Seireitei

Shinigami

Administrator
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The central command center is abuzz with scientists. Hundreds of monitors remain the only lightsource within the crowded and dark room. Upon these screens, scene after scene of the day's events unfold on loop. At small desks, surrounded by screens and monitors of their own, scientists type and calculate, program and code. Like a hive of hornets they buzz around, one collective mind. They focus on their footage, gathered from around the various surveillance cameras planted throughout the Seireitei. Their recordings and streams are observed meticulously, making sure no minor detail is amiss, that the raw data collected here today would remain forever in the lexicon of the Research and Development Department.
“Barrier down, breached by CC.”
A monotone voice calls out to the head of the command center, observing the scene at the Kuchiki Manor as it unfolds.
“Established visual on Artifact, in possession of C10. Follow?”
“Negative, prioritize assets.”
“Assets in possession of CC.”

Suddenly, a bright red bar comes across a majority of the screen. The large black Kanji flashing amidst the red LED reads:
Proximity Alert: Main Gate
A small section of Shinigami stop their typing to turn and seek direction.
“Sir, C2 has arrived at the main gate. Should I let th-”
“Lost visual of Assets and CC!”

The room suddenly goes quiet. The suspense in the air becoming palpable. Sweat drips from the head operator's brow, as every Shinigami scientist in the room swivels in their chairs to face him. None know how to proceed, they have no way of tracking the Commander’s movements, as they just recently discovered.
“Can we follow the Asset’s energy signi-”
“There are none sir….”
“So where the hell did he-”

Suddenly, a muffled and static voice breaks through the silence, coming from one of the many monitors. It displays an enraged Captain Mukuro, standing before the Main Gate of the Twelfth Division.
“YOU IDIOTS THE COMMANDER SENT ME HERE!”
No one remains still now. The entire room has burst into a frenzy. Red alert. Red lights flood the room, as papers and documents go flying into the air. Like madmen, the shinigami Scientists rush to deliver orders, send messages down the line. The Commander sent him, so the Commander must be coming here. The entire Twelfth division suddenly bursts with activity. Every individual firing off at every cylinder, literally sprinting to their posts.
“We’ve got a Code Purple! Code Purple! Everyone to your stations Now!
“NOW FUCKING OPEN UP BEFORE I-”

BZZZZZZZZZ
The massive gate opens up, revealing a perfectly immaculate Twelfth Division. It is as though all of the hustling and bustling never occurred. A welcome party of researchers await the enraged Captain with smiles and closed eyes. Accompanying them, are three strange machines, clearly some newly fashioned suspended animation pods. Each pod has a team of thirty scientists, some tinkering with various dials, others writing strange recordings into tablets made of Reishi. The Scientists are obviously already in the know, and far too enthusiastic about the arrival of the “assets”. Their eagerness to work on these new playthings borders on aggressive, poorly hidden behind their friendly demeanor. They are so focused on presenting themselves as happy and hospitable hosts, that they forget to greet their guest.
“Cough, Cough, HACK!”
One researcher breaks the silence. He would be considered odd looking, if it weren't for the company he kept. If anything, it's a relief that the attention fell on this sickly man, as he appears to be relatively normal and down to earth. Despite the fact that he is currently tinkering with a pair of pliers deep into a prosthetic eye. Still, he pays no attention to his fidgeting, as he greets the Captain.
“Hey there Captain, you uh...you said the Commander sent you?”
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SLAM
SLAM
SLAM

Without warning, every window, every door, is suddenly sealed shut with an iron shudder. The entire institute is engulfed in darkness for a moment, as a loud voice booms over the speakers.
INTRUDER ALERT!
The backup generator kicks in, as red lights illuminate the main entrance’s courtyard. With their eerie red glow, comes a fateful shadow. The silhouette of a massive figure stands directly in the middle of the welcome party, causing many to gasp in horror and retaliate by jumping back. Hardly the Second Division, these scientists and researchers fail to draw their weapons, and some trip over their own feet and attempt to crawl away.
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“INTRUDER ALE-”
CRACK

The Speaker suddenly concaves within itself, crushed by some unseen hand. Red lights flickering on then off. There is a moment, a silence. Appearing with no warning or indication, as he had before, the Commander allows those present to regain themselves, before finally speaking.
“Nyūraku Kurotsuchi”
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The Commander calls out a specific name. The name of a scientist some may consider forgettable amidst the plethora of specialists found within the Twelfth Division. Nyūraku stands with the welcoming party, his arms folded, a genuine and welcoming smile across his closed-eyed face. He does not appear shocked at all, rather he appears as though he’s simply happy to be included. Not even a high seated shinigami, it is a miracle the Captain even knows the man’s name, let alone picked him out of the line up, and chose him specifically. Then again, it’s rumored that the Commander is familiar with the names of every Shinigami that serves beneath him.
The Commander, not acknowledging Captain Mukuro, drops the limp bodies of Captain Oda, Lieutenant Yugure, and Arashi Suta. They fall like dead weight with a heavy thud onto the floor. There they lay limp in a pile, as though a series of discarded rags, their blood staining the sanitized white tiles of the Institution. However, Shobatsu seems to pay them no mind. He does not turn his head to face anyone, but rather looks forward into the horizon as he speaks.
“You have two months to save the lives of these Shinigami. If their affliction has not been stabilized by then, I will return to execute them myself. Failure is not an option for your Division. I leave this task in your hands.”
The shudder slides open, bathing the courtyard once more in natural moonlight and fresh air. Having realized who their guest is, the security division of the RnD institute are quick to correct their error, and return the Twelfth Division into a more hospitalic atmosphere.
“During this time you will prepare living arrangements for Captain Mukuro and one Katsuo Oda. You are also granted exclusive access to any assets that remain within the Kuchiki Compound, this includes the corpses of those who have fallen.”
TAP

The Commander’s cane gently taps against the white tiles, and he turns to face the entrance. He takes a step, then another, walking casually, appropriately slow for his age.
“That is all.”
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Without needing to hear a word of response, the Commander calmly walks towards the entrance. The main gate begins to slide open once more, as the Captain patiently strolls outside. His stride takes him past Captain Mukuro, and the moment their bodies are parallel, time seems to slow down. The Commander speaks directly to Captain Mukuro, his tone unfamiliar to the assassin. It is no different than the emotionless and authoritative tone he always speaks in, and yet there is a nuance to it only discernible by the most intuitive perceptors.
“She will live. She is Safe. You are dismissed.”
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With his final words spoken, and the day's events having reached their end, Captain Commander Shobatsu Murasaki takes his leave, and embarks on a peaceful stroll back to Central Seireitei.
It is a calm and quiet night.
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Shinigami

Administrator
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It had been Two months since that day. Katsuo had passed out for two days since the occurrence, and two days afterward had locked himself in a depressed state. He found it hard to do almost anything. Though, Oyama. He saw how much she worked and trained to keep Division 13 afloat, and he smiled at her. It inspired him to do the same. If it wasn't for friends and family, Division thirteen, and Division five members Katsuo would be stuck in a rut.
However between training, and Division 13 duties, Katsuo took some of the work load from Oya by taking paperwork to the living quarters Division 12 set up for himself and Captain Murkuro, who barely said a word. Sometimes Katsuo barely missed he was there, silent as the grave. He figured the pink haired lass was whom the man was there for. Katsuo wished he could contact Oya to inform her of Arashi's steady recovery... He would be at Division 13 Barracks for several hours training with his Zanpakuto for the next two months, going from there, to a shift on duty in the world of the living, and back to the living quarters at Division 12 every day. He'd tell Kyoki and Ten'yuu how his brother was doing too and keep their family informed.. not that any could visit… but it would be nice if they were let known whether or not their loved ones were okay.
The first days were difficult to stomach. Seeing Arashi and Tenzen in comas really tore Katsuo's spirit. He could only think about two things, their wellbeing… and how grateful he was to the Head Captain, that he didn't kill them. Perhaps he wasn't that bad afterall.. not that Katsuo thought he was bad. It was too much protocol, not enough care, he thought was bad. Though the Oda may differ in opinion, seeing as though they were a litteral family of warlords, despite showing love off the battlefield. Some enter trances and change completely while in battle, Tenzen being one, or at least Katsuo thought so. He wished he had that mentality. So solid, true to the situation. He felt it may be what he needed to stomach situations like this. Death happens, and there's nothing he can do to change that. He can only prepare others to prevent their own deaths.
Katsuo was determined to show Tenzen what he was truly made of when he awoke, a small gift, brother to brother. He truly missed it when they spared. He felt Tenzen missed it too. They could be themselves for a while, with nobody looking at or judging them. He loved how they could talk about anything, but Tenzen usually didn't do much talking. It was just… peaceful.
Today though, had just begun, Katsuo returned by morning in the Seireitei from the world of the living, and was sitting in the living quarters today at Division 12, yet again awaiting news on Arashi and Tenzen. Something about his music kept his mind at peace, he hoped having it blaring in his headphones wasn't bothering anyone. The music helped him focus and keep calm, much like Tenzen's Meditation helped him. Katsuo used it as a tool to help him remember all he's worked on in the last two months. In his mind the music nullifies and he hears a voice.
"Oohh! As soon as Light man wakes up, I can't wait!
Katsuo shook his head, and smirked. He and Eikōgitsune were working the last 2 months day in and out thinking of ways to counter Arashi's lightning speed and Attacks.. with a little help of what the head captain had done to counter it, Katsuo spent a bit of time learning more about Eikōgitsune, which was a good thing. Both the blades and the sheaths had reflective surfaces, he learned ways he could reflect Arashi's lights back at him, as well as protect himself from not having his Shikai locked anymore. Truth was he couldn't wait either, but he was more subtle about his feelings, unlike before.
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Shinigami

Administrator
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CLICK CLACK CLICK CLACK
The sound of various keys being struck repeatedly echoes and fills the sterile air of the dark laboratory. The work space, unlike many others, is sparse of many personnel.
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A violet glow hauntingly illuminates the expansive lab, tables lined along the walls. All manner of instruments cover the entirety of each table; scalpels, pliers, incubators, microscopes, tongs, petri dishes — to name a few.
The opposite wall, equally lined with tables, however less pristine and sterile than their counterparts. Slabs of meat lay sprawled out, pins holding them open and in place. Their original form, whatever they may be...were hardly recognizable — human, hollows….shinigami?
”Ohoho, yes…YES, simply amazing!”
A harsh voice speaks from behind the translucent screen. This...scientist — more monster than man, stands with hunched back as he stares into the nearly blinding screen. Endless data cascades across the screen at impossible speeds and unrecognizable intervals and patterns.
Three Dimensional diagrams of three bodies slowly began to form, composed entirely of the strips of data that trickle down the holographic interface.
34%
The bodies partially formed from the feet up, slowly continuing to build.
55%
The waist finally formed, more and more of the body forming as the data continues to fall. A pale hand and bony fingers reach out towards the screen. A casual swipe of his hand sends the bodies floating off the screen stopping at his left side. It is there, where they spiral slowly in place, suspended in the air.
”These readings….hmm, I see...I see…”
He mumbles to himself, those strange bony fingers running across his hair, blue nails scratching at the back of his head. Eyes that appear to be constantly bulging from weak sockets shift and roll from one side of the screen to another.
”The plebeians seem to be stabilized. I suppose I won’t have the opportunity to dissect one. Disappointing.”
Nyūraku quietly laments, cocking his head to the right, further...further...further still before finally...it stops — just shy of being twisted completely upside down. It was their good fortune that they still maintained some of the genetic material from the war that plagued the Seireitei centuries ago.
He turns away from his computer, his head springing back to its proper place. He shuffles across the lab, passing the line of walls, nearing and then passing the hooked bodies dangling from the ceiling like macabre chandeliers. He approaches a room, partially lit — sterile with what appeared to be see through glass.
”Well then simpletons...how are we feeling? Excellent I imagine?”
He asks with the warmest smile a man of his….nature could muster, fingertips tapping against one another as he looked from one individual to another.
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Shinigami

Administrator
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Even through the span of two months…
Excruciating pain.
Heat and unwavering pressure.
Exhilarating power!
But… even through all these things, he remembers but one. That power… Both evil, vile, and untamed. It felt disgusting, but at the same time, it felt so damn good. Yes, he wanted that to feel that same feeling again. Over and over, so much so, that even in his sleep, he searched for it. Through the mental maze that is his brain. Through every corner, through every crevice, through every crack both created and already existing. He found residuals evidence of that power. His brain is hard at work, and to the outside world, his body at rest, but he himself would be oblivious to the work done on him. The days, and weeks spent to stabilize him, Lieutenant Yugure, and Captain oda. All three had been victims to their own power and to the might of their infamous Commander, Shobatsu Murasaki. Spared? Why? Answers he would never receive, only theories, guesses, opinions. Fine… he would be content with that. Once he woke up of course.
Two months spent training, but his work and efforts only resided in the plain of his inner world. Still, the stars remained, illuminating even the vast darkness of his world. Before him, every now and then, Hosizora or even his Hollow counterpart. Still he threatened for control. Still, he loses to Arashi, his efforts becoming monotonous, but amusing at best. At times, it almost felt like training. To better understand him, or rather, himself… With Hoshizora, it had always been control, control, control. Master one's spiritual power. Become the very blade he wields so well. No issues here, no complaints from him, but even after two months of this mental roller coaster…
How much has he truly learned…
”Well, I hope. We have been at this for quite a while. I will tell you though, dealing with the other you has been quite annoying. He is so rude! And and and, so nasty. I can not stand him at all! Is that how you feel about me, after all we have been through?!”
”Not at all, Hoshizora.”
”Teehee! Weak ass fairy...”

His voice alone, stirred the stars. Most begin to vanish as the chill of his breath reaches Arashi. Growing use to his interruptions, he stands unfazed. A smile is retained, as he turned his head slightly, looking back over his shoulder. HIs eyes opened just a smidge, enough to fully acknowledge his presence. At this point, Hoshizora was gone.
”Yet, we wield her as a mighty dragon… Your insults have become empty.”
”Shut the hell up… Time for round… What round is this, 23?”
”20. It seems your intelligence is waying as well. How unfortunate.”
”Shut the hell up!”

A frail hand, felt upon his shoulder, grabbing his attention quickly. Hoshizora had returned, as his counterpart faded away into the darkness. His presence is still felt, in every direction.
”See?! Rude! His by far, the worst roommate ever!”
”I had no idea, that I had become simply a roommate…”

He laughed, while Hoshizora could only scoff and turn away.
”Time for you to wake up it seems…”
”Oh?”
”Well then simpletons...how are we feeling? Excellent I imagine?”

His eyes opening, what little light that may have been in the room, it was enough to make him close his eyes once again. Finally awakened. How much time had passed? Where is he at? How did he get here? A single hand moved to grasp the top of his head, soon trailing his own hair and coming to find that it had grown to a length that touched even his shoulders. It is proof enough, it has been a while. However, images of, or rather fragments of the fight two months ago brought forth feelings as if it had transpired just yesterday. All he could truly remember is Shirogane and that mask he wore. Commander Murasaki, surrounded by a wall of purple flames, and then finally darkness…
He sat up, though slow in this action. The man who spoke, his eyes would find him, before his very eye-lids lowered to a point where it would seem as though they were completely closed. His smile returned immediately.
”I am, alive…”
Sounding almost questionable. His hand traveled to his face, touching one side. Yes, he remembered that he wore the same mask. His hand fell to his side, swinging his legs over and allowing them to hang off the side of the bed. His hands fell between them as he seemed to hunch quite a bit, before stretching his arm while straightening his posture. Numerous cracks, his joints popping one after the other in rapid succession.
”I would hold off on saying I feel excellent, but I do feel good. Stiff, but good. More or less.”
The appearance, the structure, the overall demeanor of the male or possibly thing before him did not bother him at all. Seen through his eyes as a regular person despite being deformed. For now, he turned his head, looking towards both Lieutenant Yugure, and Captain Oda. Had then been awake or did they still sleep?
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