[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Southeast Seireitei

[BSD]

The tray of instruments was supported by a waist-high, square shaped "toolbox", drawers of small, equal sizes lining the side. Each gleamed silver as it reflected light; the bright, sterile object extremely out of place in the dark room whose walls would never be fully cleaned of all the blood that had been spattered upon them. Kazumi's fingers thrummed in the air as she considered her options before choosing the third one down and retrieving a small black case from within. Thinking back to the man's wounds, it was fairly evident he had been through much and more. Due to his state upon her arrival, however, it was difficult to tell how to proceed. Unzipping the case she then held her hand over the contents, a flat palm moving back and forth indecisively before she spun on her heel and approached the man once again. He seemed a bit more alert now then he had before when she had inspected him. Hands on her hips she bent slightly at the waist and peered into the man's eyes. It was apparent he was in agony, yet his gaze showed no sign of them being any closer to answers than they were when he was first brought in.
"Family?"
The question was directed at the one who was already in the room. Knowing exactly who the man was didn't seem to be very important or else she would have been told. Who he was before made no difference. Kazumi had no intention of bringing any harm to the prisoner's kin, however if they lived his reaction would tell her much. If they were dead she could capture a glimpse into the man's mind. Perhaps he had none, but it seemed more likely the man was fighting so hard for a reason. Revenge and family were excellent motivators. She also wished to see the fear in his eyes if she had struck a chord, if only to get a reaction from him of some sort. Stepping back to the tray she bit at the inside of her lip as she looked at the syringes that filled the case, each one unlabeled but with a distinct color. This had been months of research and she had shared the details with no one. The contents of each was a mystery to anyone but her, and each time a dose was used the artificial colors would change around to avoid anyone being able to compile a list over time as they watched her.
Softly swaying as she shifted her weight from the tips of her toes to the backs of her heels she thought back to her human life. Her family had not been severely effected by the rebellion that raged near-by, but they had seen those who had come flooding into surrounding villages to escape the horrors there. Occasionally, if her mother were feeling kind, they would allow refugees passing through a roof over their heads for the night and a meal to fill their empty bellies. Over time they had received many visitors of all different stations and had heard so many stories. The reasons why each side continued on became very clear from their very own mouths.
However, no matter what way they explained it, it was evident the peasants of the uprising had the right of it. Oppressed by a ruthless leader who only craved riches, taxing them into bitter poverty and destroying the lands of those who crossed him... Her studies after her death had shown many more conflicts that held this same theme in some fashion or another. But those belonging to the Gotei Thirteen, as far as she had seen and was aware, was not a massive crushing force on the people. They put their lives on the line without a moment's hesitation for the sake of any soul in need. Much destruction had been caused to many homes. Many lost their lives or everything and everyone they held dear. Kazumi would wager after so much misfortune befalling them that it was only natural they look for someone, anyone, to blame. In this case the fault would obviously fall upon the Gotei Thirteen, despite their quick actions preventing any further harm.
In the end what was truly needed was perspective. They were unaware of what every shinigami faced each day and could never know or truly guess. It seemed, ultimately, this man needed to be shown. They were not the enemy, and without them their lives would fall into more chaos than they could ever imagine. If he could understand this simple fact it was likely whatever cause that held his tongue would dissipate.
With this in mind she stopped her hand and carefully picked up a syringe filled with a green fluid. Crossing once more to stand before him she smiled sweetly before injecting the concoction into the vein displayed to her on the inner crease of his right elbow.

Without a word she returned to the tray and set the empty syringe down. She had about two minutes according to her previous subjects. Right at that moment, the man was experiencing pure euphoria. The drug flowed through his veins, erasing his pain, filling his mind with a pleasant haze. She had been told it felt more blissful than any human drug in the entire world. Drumming her fingers on the tray with her back to him she allowed him to enjoy himself while she chewed at the inside of her lip, using this time to reconsider and memorize the new colors of her concoctions. She had two-possibly three if the man were allowed to live- witnesses to the use of the green potion.
When the time came to a close, one hundred and twenty three seconds had passed since he had received the dose. If he were to try to scream, the sounds would be muffled by the rag she had forced into his mouth. Turning to face him again she approached slowly, hands held together behind her back as she bent down slightly to peer into his eyes again. Smiling widely she gauged his reaction. By now his blood would feel like liquid fire, filling every single inch of his body as it flowed and every wound that had been inflicted upon him beforehand would cause, at a minimum, twice as much pain. The drug wouldn't kill him, though at present he didn't need to know that.
"It's a metaphor, do you understand?"
She asked this of him with a large grin, looking at him expectantly. Whether or not he tried to answer was of no matter, she would immediately turn her face into a faux pout as she straightened her body. Reaching out she pulled the rag from his mouth with two fingers and flung it away from her before stepping back and swinging her left leg out to the side, hands still behind her. Allowing her body to follow the momentum of the movement out to her left side, eyes looking to his again over her shoulder.
"I didn't cause you any suffering before I arrived here,"
Explaining this slowly, each word filled with intent as she fixed her gaze on him steadily, studying his face for each reaction. She hoped she could lead him to her ultimate conclusion, but even if it took some time she was gaining valuable data about her drug.

 

[BSD]

[Rukongai ————— travelling to ————Southeast]
The trek back to the compound was unremarkably, a quiet one. What was on the Captain's mind? His eyes though gazing ahead, seemed to be looking at something other than the path before him. The Elder remained silent, uncertain about the number of burdens taken on in the span of over two centuries, and even in these latest passing months as well. Somewhat made privy to what transpired during the Young Lord's time at the Seireitei, he imagined the young man to have no shortage of enemies, now more than ever. There weren't many who could work calmly and efficiently surrounded by those who hated and distrusted them, absent of any allies-
He pauses, staring at the girl splayed across Kyomu's back. He averted his gaze to the road ahead, the Compound creeping over the horizon.
Almost absent of any allies.
For whatever reason, and for better or worst the Captain seems to have earned the unwavering trust of the young woman accompanying him. It seems that even if in a fight against the world, he wouldn't be alone. Unlike the Mukuro, this was not loyalty born from years of mental and physical conditioning. Trust, loyalty, blind faith — pure and unconditional. It was something that the Phantom needed to tether him to sanity, to help guide him in the foggy sea of blackness that was his world — Yasu helped keep her Captain anchored, whether he knew it or not was anyone's guess.
Once reaching the compound the little imp wasted no time rushing to the bath. The wait, surprisingly short as she comes dashing out, dressed in black — if not for her personality and perhaps, her hair color one might mistake her for one of the many other ghosts that haunted the compound. She goes dashing down the eerily silent halls, no doubt in search of food or mischief, perhaps both given her penchant for trouble.
Leaving the girl to her own devices, he enters the bath himself. Once disrobed, a series of bruises and scars tell tale of the harshness of his training. He eases himself into heated waters, sinking slowly until all but everything above his waist is submerged. The room a haze from the steam, he stares blankly at the ceiling.
Had he made the right choice? He had failed in his mission, robbed of his accomplishments, and denounced by those who had forced such a burden upon him to begin with. Maybe he should have told them what really happen, the Captains at least.
—
No, even if he had revealed everything to them, would they believe him? A master of lies, secrets and deception? If it became his word against the words of the Central 46, his would fall short every time. He had no true allies among the Captains, none that he would call friend or confide in, not that he's ever known what friendship was — not since that moment forever ago. He would leave them in the dark, the die had already been cast, and it could not be undone. He'd be returning soon, returning to the judgmental stares and glares, to whispers and rumors, to both duty and distrust.
Ridding himself of grime, dirt, blood and musk he dresses himself and stands anew. He grabs each wrist, twisting them from one side to the other, fingers opening and coiling shut. He tightens his fist, then loosens his grip. Grabbing his zanpakuto he's quickly met by the already prepared Yasu. They stare at one another in tacit understanding, they find the elder to pay their respects, and set off to return to the place they belonged.
“Home...”
The lieutenant mutters upon their return, the two passing through the Southern gates. Kyomu remains silent, eyes shifting about, surveying his surroundings. He stood, silent, composed, unmoving. Was he taking in the scenery after so long, or perhaps preparing himself for all that lay ahead of him. He turns his head, gazing over his shoulder at his Lieutenant poised behind him. He sees her prepared to follow him, to tread the path he treads, so — he faces forward once more, and he walks. His gait, steady as geta quietly carry him across pristine tiles. He appeared ignorant to his surroundings, his gaze never shifting, the man's destination unquestionably clear. Ascending the steps leading up to the barracks, and passing through the gates into the open grounds both Captain and Lieutenant respectively were greeted.

"CAPTAIN! LIEUTENANT!"
A small squad appeared before the two, kneeling with fists to the ground, heads lowered able to only gaze at their feet. Their voices in greeting, came out in perfect unison, a testament to their cohesiveness as a single cell. Kyomu's cold gaze stared over his subordinates, Yasu was the first to break the silence, and respond to the greeting.
“Ah, tadaima.”
Kyomu's hand rested on the handle of his zanpakuto, catching the slight fidgeting of fingers against their knees, the subtle trembling of fists. There was something to report.
"Speak"
He freed them of the burden of deciding how to approach him with whatever news they brought, or rather when they should approach him. He had only just arrived, and they knew of their Captain's temperament. The one at the head became the de facto spokesman of the small group. She took a breath, kept her head low, and she began to report.
"Hai! Sir! In your absence Fourth Seat Kazumi has been observed continuously and repeatedly training throughout the Seireitei on top of practicing her new duties. Recently there has been some developments within the Rukongai districts and some of its inhabitants. Currently, she's with Musei in the workshop interrogating a captive."
She pauses as if to let her words register, yet Kyomu is well aware this is not the news she wishes to convey to him. He says nothing, the woman taking yet another breath as she continues.
"Recently Kosuke Shinzo has transferred from the Third Squad into Second Squad. His accomplishments are rather...unremarkable on paper, and we've yet to discern his true reasoning and motives for applying for the transfer."
This bit was curious, why would one of the 'scholars' of the Third Division willingly switch over to the Second Squad? Especially one with an unimpressive resume. Was this the work of someone else? Was this some ploy meant to monitor the Second Squad, meant to monitor Kyomu? If so, disposing of the man would be difficult. If he was planted by someone with higher authority than his own, then it was suffice to say his placement underneath Kyomu came with a silent threat to not touch the man. Interesting, still...this was clearly not what weighed heavy on the messenger's mind.
She bit her lower lip, opened her mouth — and paused. Burdened with doubt, held back by distant fear. Still, she pushes past the blockade of uncertainty, and delivers the news.
"Since your departure, Third seat Xiaolin, warden of the Maggots Nest has been....missing. His whereabouts and actions unaccounted for...thus far..."
Her voice trails off, and Kyomu's stare intensifies, his grip on his sword grows tighter. The Captain, was greatly displeased. Having delivered the news she remains silent, eyes closed as she is smothered beneath the quiet invisible storm of her Captain's furious glare. He walks past the group, heading further into the Squad grounds, his first visit would be the barracks...specifically, those of Xiaolin. If the fool truly had fled, then it begged to question why. What had he done, or...what hadn't he done, that would force him to flee in silence. He hastens his steps, and hopes that whatever damage done by his actions or inaction were easily mitigated and repaired. Swift steps finds him before Xiaolin's room, a violent swipe of the hand forces the fragile door open.
BAM!!!
His fist slams into the wall, as he stares into the vacant room. He finds the room empty, stripped bare of all personal items, and more importantly — absent of any body...specifically, Xiaolin's. The warden of the Maggot's Nest
Was gone

 

[BSD]

Yasu looked around the sea of individuals, not finding any of her immediate colleagues. Figuring that they were on the move somewhere, she turned her attention back to the kneeling group before her and her captain. Though while welcoming, there was an air of uneasiness, and almost immediately, Kyomu had addressed it.
It was a simple command, and a single part closer than the rest had done as ordered. Just as they’d done time and time again, she stood off to Kyomu's side, her arms resting behind her back and listened carefully. Compared to the Yasu of three months ago, there was a certain air around her. At times she wondered if Yogen would have tried going against her if they crossed paths once more.
"Hai! Sir! In your absence, Fourth Seat Kazumi has been observed continuously and repeatedly training throughout the Seireitei on top of practicing her new duties. Recently there have been some developments within the Rukongai districts and some of its inhabitants. Currently, she's with Musei in the workshop interrogating a captive."
She internally cheered. Kazumi was doing well in their absence. Making a mental note to treat her later, the lieutenant turned her attention back to the girl as she started to speak once more. The breath she took was understandable; Kyomu was unimaginably suffocating to the dwellers of the Division. The only reason Yasu could stand him was due to practice.
"Recently, Kosuke Shinzo has transferred from the Third Squad into Second Squad. His accomplishments are rather...unremarkable on paper, and we've yet to discern his true reasoning and motives for applying for the transfer."
A transfer? Yasu’s attention was piqued. A new transferee, and from Third Division no less. It was an anomaly, and she fought back to remember her academy teachers. Though it was little help, she shrugged it off. If push came to shove, she would come to meet him sooner or later had he decided to approach either her or their captain. If he was as dull as they were saying, then there was something wrong with the picture here. Taking a glance out of the corner of her eye, she gauged her captain’s reaction, though he never broke his stoic nature until--
"Since your departure, Third seat Xiaolin, warden of the Maggots Nest has been....missing. His whereabouts and actions unaccounted for...thus far..."
Her purple orbs widened at her Captain’s reaction. “Taichou.”
She watched as he headed deeper within the barrack grounds and immediately waved her hand for the gates to close, and they shut with a loud boom. As he pushed past the informant, Yasu pressed a soft hand against her shoulder and instructed her to rise. There’d be hell to pay, and her workload would increase indefinitely had it been true. Kyomu’s rage only intensified, and she could feel it from where she stood back at the courtyard. And from that intensity, she flinched when she heard his fist crash into the adjacent wall of the open room.
It was clear that Xiaolin was truly gone.
“What's the damage?”
“What?”
"What... Did I stutter?”

This side of Yasu was new to them. They knew of her underlying pride and rage for the Second Division, but for that hatred to be directed towards them, it was frightening. That same informant was cowering beneath the glowing gaze of her lieutenant’s stare, but knew of her wrongs and bowed her head against the ground. For one whose name means “peaceful,” in this current standing, she was anything but. And that glare felt as if she’d just fallen into a sea of ice.
“I was wrong. My apologies, Lieutenant Yūgure, I’ll-”
Yasu bent a knee, leveling with her subordinate and lifted her head to face her directly using her gloved fingers as if to prevent germs from touching upon her flesh. Any doubts as to why this bubbly idiot was their lieutenant had flown out of the window. The blank and icy stare drove fear into her veins and spread it. Being so up close and personal, she couldn’t see the profound, plum-toned aura that exudes around Yasu’s body. That crippling sensation was unbearable, and the surrounding area was all silent, save for the choking of the intended.
“Ah, ah, ah… I don’t want excuses. Just answer my question. Nod if you understand.”
It was a difficulty to a minor piece, but she’d managed.
“What damage was left behind?”

 

[BSD]

He continues to dangle in the air, bound, strapped...a prisoner to whatever devices his enemy's would use against him. He watches as the blue haired woman rummages through the tray of prepared items. He can't see clearly, but is convinced they're all tools meant to deal him some manner of harm. Is she too be his new torturer? Did they believe he would relent should they bring a woman before him now?
His eyes follow her movements, up to the point she stands before him, hands on her hips as she stares into his eyes, now focused. Beads of sweat trickled from his brow, though certainly not out of fear. He breathed, best he could with the cloth forced into his mouth.
"Family?"
The question posed was, short, simple, basic. A single word, meant to extrapolate a well of knowledge from the man. He bites down a bit harder, clenches his fist a bit tighter — the woman had gained her response. He fumed inside, taking the question as a passive threat to him and any he cared for, if such people truly existed. It seems that the shinigami, were indeed the type of monsters they believed them to be. That they would use their positions and powers to lord over the people of Rukongai, to get whatever they wanted, the suffering people be damned. That single word stoked the flames burning in his heart, and reaffirmed his belief that what they were doing was right.
For the first time, and though ashamed to admit it even to himself — he was glad he had no family left to be used against him. Lost in the attack three months ago.
His eyes sharpen into the fiercest stare that he could muster, despite his unfavorable position and the immeasurable gap of strength between the two.
Do your worst
Though unable to form words at the moment, his torturer would no doubt pick up on what he wished to convey with his eyes. The woman returns to her instruments of torture and death, rummaging and exploring once more. It was like watching a child sifting through their toy box, it showed how little his life meant to her...at least, in his eyes. The woman teeters about, the man unable to do anything but watch, until finally she finds the object of her temporary desire. She turns to face him, a pleasant smile on her lips. His eyes catch a hint of the syringe in her hand during her approach.
"What the hell is th-"
His thoughts cut off as the needle pierces his flesh. He winces, but is unable to move very far, or very much. He feels the alien liquid pumping through his veins. Once the syringe is emptied of the strange contents, the woman returns to her prepared tray. She seemed to be ignoring the man, and surprisingly enough...he felt no pain. Not from whatever she had forced into him, or from his previously obtained wounds. His body felt warm, and the man began to ease into comfort.
"N-no..fight it...FIGHT IT!...F-feels good...the enemy...Stay.In.CONTROL!"
He tried to will himself, warring within his own body, not wanting to give into the pleasure, uncertain to what manner of sorcery she was performing on him. Was this a means to brainwash him, to force him to comply through this wave of comfort? He feared the worst, feared for his own possible weakness, and after one hundred and twenty seconds had elapsed — he was freed from the terrors and comforts of pleasure
And was reacquainted with pain
His body tensed, fingernails digging into his palms, piercing flesh and drawing blood. Veins became apparent on his arms, chest and forearm, eyes widened as he jerked and writhed about in agony. If not for the rag in his mouth, there was high risk he'd have bitten his tongue off from his violent screaming. The wounds and blisters upon his body felt reopened and more aggravated than before. He felt every lash of the whip, every pierce of the blade, every heavy blow clearer than before — it was like being thrust back in time, and forced to relive every moment once again, his body far more sensitive to their crude tactics this go around.
"It's a metaphor, do you understand?"
She asks with a gentle and innocent grin, the grin soon replaced by a small pout of her lips. She reaches out, taking hold of the rag still jammed in his mouth, and removes the one thing obstructing his voice. The wet rag is tossed precariously aside as she steps to the side, with arms poised behind her. Her back to the prisoner she addresses him once more, glancing at him over her shoulder.
"I didn't cause you any suffering before I arrived here."
He wheezed and coughed out, taking his time to draw breath into strained and sensitive lungs. His lips move, as if stammering, he weakly lifts his head and
PTOOH!
He spits blood onto the ground, missing her feet by mere inches. He stares up at her with eyes glazed by both pain and silent resolve.
"S-sorry...d-din't notice you there hehe."
He manages to choke out his words.
"Were you talking to me?"
He maintains his strong facade as he provokes his blue haired torturer, even in the face of adversity, in the heart of enemy territory he remains steadfast. He just needed to hold on. He could do this, for the people, for change...for a better future.

 

[BSD]

Kosuke felt his body slowly drifting away from his dreams hearing the false voices of his panicked students during the Kototsu event slowly fading away as he was brought groggily back to his reality. Pushing the memory of the Kototsu attack from his mind it troubled him how thoroughly the memory of the day stuck with him. It was the terror of losing his students and being entirely unable to stop it, that fear had influenced so many of his recent actions these past few months. Heavy eyelids pulled apart pressed against the papers below him he had fallen asleep over leaning back to inspect that he had not drooled on them as his senses returned in full. Kosuke sighed deeply in relief as he found the papers still in pristine condition scattered on the wooden porch around him sitting in a loose fitting kimono robe with his sandals off to the side. The weather lacked a breeze and was pleasantly warm Kosuke hoped to alleviate the dullness of his task by taking it outside to enjoy the weather though the pleasantness only served to lull him to sleep faster then normal.
”How foolish of me.”
Kosuke’s sleeping pattern had been made an irreparable mess these past three months. Upon his transfer he found himself thrown directly into the middle of a teachers worst nightmare, a class left unattended. The disappearance of the third seat coupled with the scarcity of the captain and Lieutenant lately had thrown the barracks into sheer chaos in his eyes. In reality this was probably very much the the ordinary for squads outside of squad three but this level of disorganization was unacceptable to Kosuke.
Choosing to help in the way that suited him most while also not overstepping the bounds of his seniors. Kosuke found the nearest stack of paper work and buried his head in it spending the last three months organizing filing and labeling every form of paperwork he could find. He had to admit there was a level of pride and undeniable quality of work at hand he doubted things had been organized so well even before the chaos. And to his benefit in the midst of all his searching he had stumbled across more then a few irregularities that had gone unnoticed or perhaps even intentionally buried from the sight of the now missing warden.
Taking note of his recently acquired comrades passing by on the porches across from him giving a multitude of disapproving glances and disinterested half stares veiling suspicions. Kosuke couldn’t blame them his transfers timing must make him seem highly suspect appearing suddenly in the wake of the coup and coming from a squad of “scholars” as they were perceived no less, And those who lacked the caution to suspect him as a spy merely assumed from the frequency he had been caught napping over the paperwork that he was merely a laze and was using the papers he had helped himself to as little more then something to prop his head on.
There was a concern that the frequency at which he had been found napping may make it back to the captain of the squad Captain Mukuro. A short insincere laugh came to his lips escaping them before he took notice as he considered how meeting his captain would go. He wondered if the failure of the coup would perhaps change his temperament or the temperament Kosuke had heard about. Upon further thought Kosuke realized how truly little he knew about his new captain nearly all of it rumor and hear say. The only thing he truly knew for certain was Captain Mukuro’s quote given to the Communication. The first time he read it it had inspired Kosuke greatly he wasn’t sure how much of it was meant in earnest but he decided there was only one way for him to truly understand there truth’s.
He smiled to the passerby’s as he collected his papers once more running the numbers through his head. Even accounting for the new prisoners in the months leading up to the escape there was a number of inconsistencies unaccounted drops and rises in the population of the maggots nest, Though it was little more then a hunch at the moment his worry had only served to grow and gnaw at his instincts as all attempts to find and report the data to the warden of the prison had failed unable to find the Shinigami in question anywhere. ”Damn what luck I transfer into a crisis only to be stuck cleaning up.” He lamented outwardly at the state of things taking a moment to recall his reasoning and conviction to step onto the frontlines of protecting his students.
Letting out a lengthy sigh as he gathered the relevant documents reluctantly rising from the comfort of the wooden porch. The rumor had been that the Captain and his Lieutenant would be arriving soon and judging by the thick tension in the air as he opened the sliding door stepping into the barracks of his new division he assumed the rumor to be fact. Following a quick and dull trip to his quarters Kosuke dressed himself properly taking his Zanpakuto holding it outward with a slight smile of pride before sliding it into the sash that held his Kosode tight, pulling his long gloves up his arms till the elastic snapped snugly along his bicep ”I suppose I should make an effort to look the part especially if I’m going to meet the captain”.
He steadied himself feeling slightly anxious at the idea of approaching his Superior so brazenly while still so new to the division. “Well with any luck he can appreciate the pragmatism of it.” He hoped to himself as he folded the papers tucking it into his sash opening his door and setting out to search the Barracks for his captain.