[BSD-RP] The Valley of Screams

[Shinigami]

護廷十三隊

 

[Shinigami]

[click every time ^]

A great bellow of smoke creeps from the open door of the Senkaimon. In a steady charge, it hovers above the ground carried by the stiff air of the Valley of Screams. This place had been as silent as it usually was as of late, with very few from the soul society stepping any foot here.
Well...I guess today that changes...
Maho Kojima, The Dragon Of Kojima, Struts out into the vacant world. Each step methodical, with a rhymthic bob. His hands snug within his Haori pockets, he breaches the haze of smoke with swagger. His locs sway in perpetual motion. For a time he walks, with no steady destination in mind, until, upon some inner realization, some form of standard was met. The ground was solid enough. Or the air fresher. Which it was, none could really say. It is then that the Dragon makes his stop, his eyes scanning the vast sky. Its openness mesmerizing to those with a keen eye. Clouds fly free above him, bringing forth a feeling of envy. It climbs up his spine, throughout his nerves. This feeling is one which is seldom communicated to others. He knew what that type of talk could bring. In life, people may know of you, but only a small list should ever truly know you. His hand raises, finger tips grip the cigar between his lips. Pulling it away he exhales more clouds as if trying to add to their ranks above. More time passes. He waits. As long as it will take. In his free hand, the letter announcing a bout for Captency in his hand. The purple seal broken, the letter is turned to ash in his palm. Maho sighs outwardly clenching his fist. He lowers his hand back to his sides and keeps his eye to the sky.
"...Another day huh?"
It is not unlike Maho to find himself like this. Lacking in any true motivation. He was sure the thrill of battle would awaken him. But for how long would it last this time? Like a caged bird he felt the walls constantly closing on him. The cage he had long resided narrowing with time. Constricting his wings. Even he did not truly understand the fire conjuring deep within him. Sometimes, it took something Major for a man to find his true self. To birth it.
And so the Dragon waited. Would he birth a new Captain today? Or would things continue on as they had for some time now.

 

[Shinigami]

An hour before the Dragon trespassed the Valley of Screams another visitor had come to this serene yet eerily silent realm. A Senkaimon had punctured through sky and from the iconic sliding doors descended into this lifeless mountainous world was a man draped in the billowing shadowy garbs of a Shinigami known as Asakura Itsuki, The Smiling Reaper, a fiery haired Shinigami beckoned by a higher power to seize hold of his destiny…to wear both haori and the burden of the Soul Society as a Captain! The orders were burned to cinders after but a single read… and yet they remained clear as day; every stroke of ink on the scroll memorized by the houndish detective who came an hour earlier than his summons simply out of practice.
“Asakura Itsuki, Agent of the 10th Division of the Gotei 13, you are hereby summoned to report in official capacity to the Valley of Screams by no later than 0800 the day after receiving this written transmission. You have been deemed eligible to be promoted to the rank of Captain and therefore will undergo a series of trials to decide if you contain the multiple qualities and characteristics required & expected of a Shinigami serving in capacity of a Captain in the Gotei 13. Once you have finished reading this communication you are to destroy it.”
As he reminisced fondly of the day before he began to stroll through the stony quarry that stretched into the horizon, gazing upon mountains that rose defiantly into the cloudy Heavens and cavities that seemingly sunk deep into the belly of this mysterious dimension-- Itsuki could reason with a glance as he walked past these wounds on the realm that they likely came from previous battles that erupted within its borders.
As Itsuki studied the world around him he noticed he’d begun to fidget… his fingers nervously combing through his wild spiked hair. He could feel a maelstrom of emotions rattling through him, and so he decided he would take the half hour left before his destined encounter to meditate. He found a boulder nearby and plopped down onto it, plucking out his beloved tanto-shaped Zanpaktou and resting it beside him as he crossed his legs and stared blankly forward into the lonely valley. While his body was unmoving his mind had begun delving deeper and deeper, he could feel his own fears and anxieties rampant like the storming sea, but instead of fleeing them he focused on them... Adamant to become empowered by them… He imagined himself a stone flake atop a lake-- and he imagined sinking ever deeper into the water. This almost hypnotic mindfulness spread Itsuki's awareness, the water representing the attunement of his mind to the world around him… and when the Senkaimon of Kojima rippled the tranquil and otherwise still ‘waters’ of this dimension Itsuki knew... it was time.
Though he could have instantly rushed his opponent, Itsuki had decided he would take a moment to prepare himself after spending what felt like half an hour deeply entrenched in a zen-like trance. This was it...taking a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth... This was the moment; it was now or never that Itsuki could make reality of his desires, he could feel every bone in his body tremble with a primal insatiable excitement and as he gathered his Zanpaktou, tucking it back into its rightful place in his obi, he rose to begin his trek towards where he could feel the fluttering presence of the only other life here, his own presence neatly suppressed to feel no mightier than that of a common citizen of the Rukongai.
His eyes grew wide as he beheld his trial, a man among men, the great and powerful Dragon known as Maho Kojima-- and try as he did, the nervous excitement showed clear as day on his face. A smile as wide as the Cheshire Cats had sprawled across his face as Itsuki now towered over the legend himself. Without warning he boomed with a burly caw “OHAIO, KOJIMA-TAICHOU.” His surprisingly loud voice came from a bout of nerves, he grimaced for just a moment when he realized this empty world was a surprisingly powerful echo chamber but soon regained control of his jittering mind. He stood before the Captain and bowed-- a deep bow that showcased his deeper respect for both Kojima and the weight of the Haori that he carries-- the same weight that Itsuki hopes to someday soon carry as well. “I am Asakura Itsuki of the 10th Division, it is an absolute honor!” An earnest voice, a deep bow, and when he looked up to Kojima his big blue eyes shone with a brilliant yet almost animal excitement-- for Itsuki this was certainly to be an epic battle.

 

[Shinigami]

[click every time ^]
(edited for proper post music)

There is a sudden change in the atmosphere. The winds seem to come to a stop, creeping across his flesh, like a secret, said in a hush. Someone’s here… He does not change his orientation yet, choosing to draw in a large cloud of smoke before kneeling over and putting his Cigar out. It was almost show time. He takes this free moment to remove his Haori, placing it haphazardly to his left, not bothering to fold it as more traditional Captains may. His opponent approaches, a certain Asakura Itsuki. Maho had read his file. A nice list of accomplishments, his most recent quelling a strange disturbance in the Rukon. He had scoped the location out for some time, until he found the grotesque abomination. He had hidden perfectly amongst them. Meaning he had skills in observation…and stealth. sigh… a loud one escaped him. He shakes his head violently to the left and right. No…No!. Itsuki rid the Soul society of not only the unsavory villagers, but also the bandits that had been terrorizing them. Needless to say, he was a capable enough Shinigami to test himself here. Maho couldn’t let his inner turmoil over come his duties. This he would always hold too, for as long as he still had some form of love for the Soul society. The title of Captain could only go to those willing to forge their own path, a path that could see the safe continuation of fate.
When the figure began to approach, he could tell from this distance that he had been keeping his soul-imprint minimal, almost out of habit rather than need. This was an empty realm, devoid of any life to be confused with, most of the time. Maho had always been tuned to his environment, finding that sweet spot on a radar. What they eyes could not see, the soul was sure to catch. Though, he figured the man wouldn't outright attack him...right? Who knew...or could say for sure.
Finally, he see’s the carrot topped Shinigami waltzing over the horizon. Had he gotten here early? He was the only dot of life here for miles. He moved at his own pace, not in any particular rush to arrive. This was fine for Maho. He allowed him the luxury of an uninterrupted approach. He needed to introduce this exam participate, all in order to flex the prestige of the Gotei Thirteen…
He needed to show him what it meant to wear the white Hoari. He needed to emphasize the responsibility that comes with it. Its weight was for no one fickle. Only those with the will to hold true to their ideals, could dawn it. Whatever he believed in, he better have believed in it wholeheartedly. There could be no room for folly.
“OHAIO, KOJIMA-TAICHOU.”
He calls out, stern and direct. A tint of admiration escapes him, prevalent in his undertone. He comes to a halt some twenty yards from where The Dragon stands. Announcing himself with the pride of an everyday Soul Reaper. Honesty…it had been the same lighthearted tone of Tenzen Oda. Who was somewhat odd in how simple and calm he was, though a bit strange and self doubtful. Maho appreciated the honest types the most. It almost maybe him smile...almost.
But he could never be too sure…
“I am Asakura Itsuki of the 10th Division, it is an absolute honor!”
Maho stood alone, his chest bare, the light reflected fresh sunlight off his copper-colored flesh. It was healthy and rich, crafted densely into a muscular human form. His face obscured by a head of untied brown tinged locs that hung low over his eyes. It made it difficult to ever truly read him. An anomoly, He was definitely a sight to see. Unlike any, but no different all the same. Just as imperfect. As unique. Flawed...yet proud. He stood just five foot eleven, from this distance he hardly looked like much of a threat. His left arm was cast in a dense black metal, fashioned into a gauntlet of sorts, with a swirled pattern. It wasn’t much to look at honestly. A simple gauntlet. Those with any level of sensory perception could feel power emnating from it however. It was clear this was his Zanpakuto. Stranger than almost any other.
"Asakura Itsuki!!!!"
And just like that…that other Maho, with his head high in the clouds, absent minded and aloof. Wanting for freedom.
Vanished.
Replaced now by another entity. The Dragon howls, His voice rocketing along the air with palpable resolve. Coupled with this verbal declaration was an unbridled rise in spiritual might. The Valley of Screams begins to shutter and tremble. Rock splitting and churning up into the air. He had release the flood gates on his spirit energy, allowing it to flow unrestrained from his body.

"FROM THIS POINT ON, YOU WILL DO WHATEVER IS IN YOUR POWER TO PROTECT.
TO FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT
TO DEFINE YOUR SOUL. TO SHOW WHY IT IS WORTHY.
YOU WILL FIGHT WITH YOUR PRIDE AS A SHINIGAMI.
WITH THE VERY WILL OF THE SOUL SOCIETY.
YOU WILL FIGHT AS A GUARDIAN OF FATE ITSELF.
THE VERY FLOW OF SOULS NOW RESTS IN THOSE HANDS…
IN THAT BLADE AT YOUR HIP.
WEILD THEM WELL,
AND LEAVE NOTHING BACK!
DIG DEEP! IITSUUUKIII!!!!"

Each passing word, hit like a mighty drum, harmonious. A grand ballad, to the guadians of the sea of souls always in motion. It hit the ears as a bombardment of brass horns, raining from the heaven to deliver rapture. The air suddenly becomes an arid rush, one that is understandibly harsh to the unprotected. It is the precursor to a great inferno. A near transparent surge of various values of whites and gray spew forth from Maho's vessel. The disturbance causes noticeable turbulence, the ground shutters, cracking and splintering at the seams. Everything within a fifteen yards radius around his position, other than the episenter where he stood suffers the most structural damage. Beyond this range, the ground still suffered, though its damage was far less so. It made finding a reliable footing a task that required some effort. The gathering fury of reiatsu created a shockwave that would carry the opposing Shinigami off his feet had he not respond with a like display of strength. Forget getting close. He would be flattened into the floor had he gone in bare of his protections. That much was obvious truth.

Now, both his arms were covered in ebony, glowing a bright hue, not unlike his spiritual energy. A small orb of black materialized spinning out into a rapid formation of black steel, coagulating into two large and boulderesk fists, roughly eight feet across from finger to finger with each finger being about two feet thick. Large enough to do some serious damage. Each takes their place on both his eleven and three o clock, give or take a few extra degrees as they hovered there, always under the influence of their master. Only a second was needed for these auxilitary fists to form in their entirety. He scrutinized his opponent, creating an imprint of him within his minds eye. He shuffles his feet, taking a solid offensive stance. His knee’s would bend, remaining rather loose and open to movement. Both legs remained roughly two and some odd feet apart, having stepped into place. His left hand extends, and the larger one follows, swivveling into position a Another yard ahead. The right arm, tucked close to his side, remained nestling just a half yard behind it. positioned with the palm facing upward.
He issues the final roar, like that of a mighty gong.
"HAAAAJJJJIMERU!!!!!!"(始める;BEGIN!!!!!!)
The battle had begun, though Maho never let his guard down. Reactive and sensitive to hostility he was known to move first, and question why later. Never one to leave himself open, he watched carefully for what type of response he was given. Would he be knocked back by the impressive display of reiatsu. Or would he respond with a vigorous display of his own? Would he quickly unleash his shikai? Or his Bankai?!?! Would he begin by casting a spell? There were numerous possibilities, each one just as viable but only one truth would remain in the end. Behind his locks, a trade mark jade glimmer of light escaped. A prominent glow flushes over his optics. This was the tangile expression of his focus. He wanted to see everything his opponent had to offer. And so here is where he remained, vigilant in his observation. He kept his options loose, his body had already been primed to precipitate a velocity shift.
Let's see what you got….

 

[Shinigami]

The stale air of the Valley of Screams was suddenly alive with excitement! The Dragon in mortal coil stood before Itsuki and howled his name with such intensity that it seemed to almost shake the very tethers of this lonely world and made Itsuki’s doggish grin only grow wider. Did Itsuki smile out of nerves or excitement? Even he wasn’t sure, but as the Captain continued to bellow he could feel the world was about to change… His world was about to change; but would it change for the better or worse? Itsuki pondered for but a moment before gnashing his teeth deep into his bottom lip, exposing a glimpse of the predatory euphoria that lay beyond his faux innocent blue eyes.
As a sensor of incredible caliber himself he could feel the ebbing force of Maho beginning to swell well before it blustered out into the realm between them, and so Itsuki braced himself accordingly. While he refused to release his own force en masse to counter Kojima’s for a blow to blow contest, Itsuki used his almost hyper analytical ability birthed from his uniquely abstract mastery of Hohō and deducted what must be done; within a second he created an almost angular streamline pressure of his own Reiryoku, a testament to his own mastery and manipulation of his force, that curtly re-directed the fast approaching shockwave to simply part at his front and reconvene as a stream behind him without showcasing a tremendous amount of power himself simply taking advantage of calculating where and at what point to apply pressure to have the likeliest outcome to what he requires. Itsuki could easily tell from the moment the Captain roared his mighty roar and pushed out his spiritual gut that he was attempting to draw him in, however Itsuki was not so easily turned into the mouse. Unless Kojima was clad in the vile energies of a Hollow, it would be nigh impossible to just outright get a clash from a man known for keeping his wit even in the heat of battle.
Regardless of tactic, he couldn’t help but wear a pensive yet impressive expression; if nothing else the force that Kojima released was by no means meager however Itsuki wondered if this was a mere skimming of the force deep within this Dragon’s well of power. As Kojima took his own stance Itsuki watched; his opponent’s Zanpaktou erupting into existence and taking the shape of two mighty & titanic arms forged from a steel black as night. As the once aloof but now battle frenzied Kojima began to bellow once more Itsuki too decided to speak; his lips parting no more than a crack as he whispered “B-ankai” the hitch in his voice could easily be mistaken as a mere accent, and the methodical detective himself wanted it to be thought of that way as he put into motion his own ploys in this this game of Cat & Mouse.
In the same moment he began to speak, the same moment that Kojima roared, a great coral tempest of energy sprung forth from him obscuring Itsuki’s large copper skinned body and fiery hair for but a moment before it spilled beyond him, like the smog of a cauldron pouring as it reached its apex. As the coral haze began to flood the surrounding twenty yards between the two venerable warriors, the same moment that Kojima's final words slipped from his lips, it would become easier to see Itsuki… or where Itsuki should have been. In the same moment he initiated the false Bankai he had silently casted a spell which he has perfected in his desire to be the ‘Perfect’ investigator. In a single instant when the spiral of energy had danced around him, he had called forth the absolute suppression technique… it was none other than Kyokko! The technique infamous for erasing his physical form, his existence down to the very foundation of senses eradicated from detection by any who lack mastery of the infamous suppressing technique. In this moment it would take a Master of the Kido arts or someone who like Itsuki has mastered this spell to see beyond the veil he now hid beneath.
Save those few close to Itsuki, the nature of his Reiatsu is not common knowledge, and so his energy that washed over the land like a London fog and sought to engulf even Kojima didn’t carry malicious intent. If anything, the embrace of his force felt almost loving-- like the heartwarming hug of a Mother holding their weary child. The reality of the situation however was far graver than what could be foretold on the surface… if Kojima tried to take in the flowing force of Itsuki it would be the same as ingesting a sedative… His reiatsu a relaxant of incredible potency and especially addictive in concentration. By no means was this an intended attack… this was merely Itsuki creating a rouse for his greater plot.
While being clad in the sense eradicating shroud of his Kyokko spell, Itsuki maintained the absolute zero of his spiritual pressure provided graciously by this technique. His voice was unheard to all but himself and his beloved Zanpaktou, Itobeni.
“Weave the Heavens and the Earth together, Itobeni”
Itsuki murmured as he both catapulted himself backwards with a mighty toe thrust of surprising gusto and drew the stout blade of his beloved Itobeni, holding it in such a way that it almost seemed like the cursor to a pendulum as it swung laxly at his side. As he finished both drawing his weapon and speaking what must be spoken, the once bold brown oak seemed to lose its color, turning a petrified pale as suddenly the blade began to grotesquely mangle itself, suddenly the plain steel hues became alive with deep shades of red and within seconds no longer even seemed like steel… the blade had become a thick and long tether of twisted rope.
Itsuki landed having distanced himself close to forty yards, creating a greater gap of sixty yards between him and Kojima. Once settled Itsuki stood with the stillness of a statue in an at ease position. His grip upon the handle of his tanto-esque Zanpaktou still oddly relaxed as he gazed coolly with both his eyes and his mind into the direction he had distanced himself from... waiting... like the owl silently watching the moves of an unaware prey Itsuki too watched... How would Kojima cope? Was his mastery of spellcasting on par with Itsuki? Did he only delay the inevitable? Would Kojima brazenly take into himself the welcoming venom of Itsuki's lofty reiatsu? He could only wait... calculate... recalculate... and retaliate; the four things he did best as an Investigator & Soldier.