[BSD-RP] The Valley of Screams


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Darkness and ice were beautiful things to those who were fond of the macabre. Both were cold and lonely. That along with vines covered in thorns whipping about to hold her examiner steady made for a beautiful picture for it would all but assure that Omoni could not function without being under the duress of extreme amounts of pain and even running the risk of losing her precious Zanpakuto. All things considered, that's how things should have played out. Naturally, the Oki woman had an affinity for long to mid range fighting and so she had arrogantly determined that permitting Omoni to get close to her would be some sort of mercy but this would only be one of the mistakes that she had made.

The Valley of Screams was no place for mercy.

Much to the Lady’s dismay the things that she wanted to see and the things that she would see were entirely different. What Honoka would actually bear witness to was going to be far more interesting! Firstly, the demonic grin of her examiner then secondly, the top of her unruly brown hair and thirdly the clear blue sky of the valley with the ground appearing to shrink further and further away. Namakizu’s tendrils had gotten ahold of Honoka and held on to her ankles with an iron grip. In the hands of its wielder, the club was an extension of Omoni’s very will. As beings, they could not be more different but their interests, their minds and souls were perfectly aligned and tempered with on another on the battlefield. The physical strength that the captain possessed was outright tremendous but it was never something that the Oni Empress couldn’t plan accordingly for. The shock from one of her well-aimed punches had not knocked Honoka off of the ground so it certainly didn’t overpower the clutches of Namakizu. Unfortunately for the Oki, she couldn’t get away from Omoni that easily. As it stood, nothing had been done to dissuade the spine's grasp or Omoni’s approach therein laid her second mistake and so unceremoniously, the examinee was flung into the air with that woman tagging along closely behind hopping along various reishi platforms. Her fantasy of magic and frost was not to be. To make matters worse, two more tendrils rose up and harnessed each of the elder’s arms in the process, crushing the babbling botanics as well. Immediately after, Hageshi stretched the tendrils from the Lady’s body so that all of her limbs were separated from one another and far away from the parasitic scarf. Together, Examiner and examinee were suspended leagues above the earth level with each other at a distance.


"Y’know, I used ta’ hang out in the land a’ the livin’ all the time way back when.”

Memories of a time when she was traversing the human world came flooding back to Omoni. One day stood out in particular at that moment. She’d been seated on top of an apartment complex eating a snack the kind of which she had forgotten. A young woman had left her flat to stand on her balcony where she proceeded to hang a pair of rugs out on a clothesline. Hageshi’s interest was piqued by such a strange custom playing out before her eyes that she could not look away. At once, the woman began to beat the carpets like it was nobody’s business with what looked like some kind of tool. Clouds of dust and debris burst free of them only to float away listlessly into the atmosphere. Something that she noticed was that when she used one of her hands, the rugs barely flinched but soon the girl must have gotten impatient because she switched her tactics and instead utilized both of her hands. This caused the rugs to flail about as if they were prisoners being tormented. That day had been a good day.

“No one else knows…feels so good to let it out cause’ aint’ nothin’ no one can do about it now!”

One hand had been holding onto the hilt of Omoni’s Zanpakuto initially but now there were two. Usually, the brutish hag maneuvered Namakizu’s obesity with astounding ease using just one of her arms as if it were as light as a feather but for anyone who was unfamiliar with crossing blades consistently with her, this would have likely been overlooked.

"Saw this girl, beatin the livin’ hell outta a rug. When she used one hand it didn’t even twitch but if she used two…”

Hageshi turned a wide, wild and crazed stare in Honoka's direction with a similarly gaping grin stretched across her blemishless face. It was a derranged gaze. The grip on her Zanpakuto visibly tightened and she brought it back so that it was positioned just above her head and her shoulder.

“I wonder what would happen to ya’…if I used two hands ta’ beat the livin’ hell outta’ you.”

The spectacular spell caster’s limbs had been stolen from her rendering her ability to aim her enchantments properly null and void. Her exceptional agility and ability to flee from Hageshi’s incoming onslaught was robbed from her as well along with any semblance of Hakuda that may come to her rescue. In addition to this, the cherished violet scarf that had devoured the reiatsu that the captain delivered to it was left without direction to hang on Honoka’s shoulders, elephantine and nothing more than an article of clothing on her person. It's weight no matter how unmanageable would not hinder Namakizu's unyielding hold on the disgraced Oki.



Without further ado, Omoni proceeded to swing her club viciously into Honoka’s stomach where her fist had previously landed and had only resulted in a minor bruise. The great Lady was second only to Hageshi in terms of durability so this wasn’t a surprise to the captain but if she survived the brutalization she’d be receiving now without so much as a scratch Omoni would certainly be amazed. These six strikes were equally as concussive as the next in rapid succession and all made their mark in the same exact spot dealing devastating damage to the elder’s midsection. Every spike drove deeply into muscle, flesh and bone. The sheer size alone threatened to cut the woman in half with every hit and all of its caliber was multiplied by Omoni utilizing both of her hands to get the job done and get it done it would…the monster had very few manners of attack that one could rightly consider a routine but there was one terrible technique born and bred by the captain of the eleventh herself and this was it.

"The Hageshi Thrashing”

Splayed out and immobilized, it’d become clear that although the captain was quite fond of the lady Honoka that testing her, cornering her and pushing her to her limit, be it the death of the Oki woman was her solemn duty. She wanted to fight Honoka more than anything in the world at this point but she wouldn’t settle for the same smoke and mirrors and speed that the lady was comfortable with. No, Captain Hageshi needed to see more and if she had to, she was going to rip Honoka to shreds to drag it out of her.







No matter how strong one claims to be, there is always methods to subdue that strength. Methods to diminish that which is deemed a threat. While Bakudo was always an option, the captain's unsightly strength could possibly break her free of such constraints. Honoka could have even stacked binding spell upon binding spell to seal the captain in place as it lay entirely in her hands.

While their fates were intertwined in this moment, the two lived vastly different lives. Where Omoni disregarded the chain of command to go and adventure out in the living world for her own pleasure, to play among humans and fight hollows, Honoka's time was spent diligently overseeing every single detail that came through her desk during her tenure as Head Lieutenant of First Division. Despite the... extended vacation from her duties as a shinigami. Honoka is ever observant, meticulous, and leaves little to chance to interfere with her carefully thought out plans.

Perhaps if Hageshi had been less reckless in her approach of the Verdant Witch, or taken the time the learn a thing or two from her elder in observation, the brawler would have noticed the events as they transpire before her own cerulean eyes.

Even as Honoka's ankles are but momentarily grasped by her junior's zanpakuto in what would possibly break any one else's ankles, the former Head Lieutenant is as stillness is such as a flowing river, but the calmness is not without it's powerful torrent of power, as Hageshi does absolutely nothing to dodge the violet fabric under Honoka's control. Failing to free herself within the miniscule sliver of time before Honoka's hand graces her rugged face with a gentle caress, Omoni Hageshi suffers the cruel and unforgiving blast of the full incantation Hyōga Seiran (氷河晴嵐, Glacier Vapor Storm) directly to her face.

As sturdy, durable, or resistant to damage as the examiner may believe herself to be, she is neither impervious nor immune to elemental damage, much less to the disfigurement of her face as she's left completely defenseless with her hands and arms wrapped and secured at her sides, thanks to the Erimaki Shisseki she so carelessly ignored, believing it to be nothing more than an adornment on Honoka's burdened shoulders. Hageshi would find that despite her durability, her strength or reitasu, none of these would do anything at all to free her from these binding constraints. A fabric the former Captain Commander once wielded to control his reiatsu from seeping from his grasp, Honoka then donned to train herself over the span of an entire century. Honoka who moves gracefully, unhindered by this tremendously weighting scarf never gave any signs to the true weight of it, easily whipping it around the air, controlling it as an extension of her body.

Had it not been for the monumental glacier that forms at the behest of the kido master's fully empowered spell which not only locks Hageshi in place, but also freezes her to the very core of her body, the younger of the two would have found herself in a crater far deeper than the one Namakizu finds itself if, many times over. Defenseless, without her zanpakuto in hand as it is left abandoned on the ground in a crater of its own making, the only two things the frozen woman can see through her singular unfrozen left eye is Honoka's hovering hand as it shuts close, causing the multitude of vines surrounding the gargantuan mountain of ice to begin tightening around the ice causing crackling sounds begin to resound through the only other thing Omoni can see, the further ominously darkening atmosphere in the entire Valley of Screams.

Slowing her heart with each passing second as the bitter cold penetrates deeper and deeper into her muscles, numbing them them, robbing her of movement, sensation, and reaction, the vines that encase the entirety of the valley begin crushing the very ice that encases the frozen victim. Giving her no reprieve from being encased in a prison of ice, the younger woman is now trapped in an entanglement of thorny vines, which constrict and crush the frozen muscles and bones in her arms, legs, and abdomen. Not only that, but they seep away at the captured woman's reiryoku; an often forgotten about passive ability kept even from it's weakened zanpakuto state, which feeds on it's victims to strengthen itself and grow stronger, resulting in the woman only strengthening her prison as she attempts to release any energy from her body. With no further use for the scarf to restrain the woman, the vines slither underneath it, prying it from the woman before expelling it from the oversized knotting vines.


Perhaps had Omoni paid a shred of attention to the mutterings of the plants on Botanical Enchantress' shoulders, she might have made out the incantation some time ago to prevent herself from being caught, alas, she chose to ignore the very thing that sealed her fate. Maybe she might have even done something to keep the woman from casting spells, but then, the disowned Oki didn't exactly need to speak the incantations of any kido in her vast arsenal of spells to cast them, but it is clear she cannot give any sort of mercy to her opponent.

So she doesn't.


The air thickens as the spellcaster's reiryoku condenses, what was once a bright, sunny sky now is devoid of light, as the darkness, moonless night, without a single ray of light shining through to the ground or the two combatants. Ever the diplomat, this is a technique she seldom uses, its sheer destructiveness often leaving a bitter aftertaste in her mouth as she dislikes resorting to such... barbaric methods. But with each exchange, it was obvious she would be forced to use such merciless tactics. Now, the crackling energy of the long ago incanted spell finally crescendos.


The woman's voice reverberates through the entirety of the Valley of Screams, causing the very ground to tremble beneath her feet. Boulders throughout the battlefield split into pieces from the sheer amount of spiritual pressure released now that she's free from her Scarf of Reprimand. While the rapidly strengthening vines of Higanbana hold Omoni in place, the woman's proverbial final nail on the coffin is finally hammered in as the gravity around her intensifies, enveloping her, preventing any of movement. Sacrificing the vines that hold Omoni in place, the spell takes hold, generating a black box of energy around the woman and her prison of vines. Trapped within it and unable to escape, she is pierced by an array of spears that penetrate her body in a multitude of locations, from every possible direction. She is pierced through the liver, her lungs, arms, legs, intestines, even her neck is not safe from the violent onslaught of these energy spears.




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The captain’s wrists fiercely snapped to her sides and had no place to go, utterly un-permitted. Their length had been ensnared by the leeching fabric and had gone to work draining the rapturous power out of its catch almost instantly. No matter how she struggled, she couldn’t seem to liberate herself from its stern hold.


Namakizu’s unhinged shriek echoed out into the recesses of Hageshi’s subconscious as the unthinkable was committed. Honoka’s slender hand had managed to touch her wielder’s precious, stunning and perfect face. It was a travesty beyond tragedy and something that the great Oni Empress would not tolerate. As the darkness set in, the captain had only just begun to register what could have been happening to her.



"Hyōga Seiran (氷河晴嵐, Glacier Vapor Storm)."

Unforgiving cold exploded into existence, freezing every microbe in it's path. It spread from the Lady’s hand onto Omoni’s vulnerable face and burned it to unseemly petrification. Her head to her shoulders to her very bare scar covered feet and core had been rendered as mobile as a statue. The amount of pain she was in had to be astronomical for if she attempted to move even a single muscle, her frozen prison would punish her.


The club lands with a heavy sound and lays in the last spot that it was left by the incarcerated captain who could no longer hold much less command it. The crater it created becomes it’s grave.



Hageshi watches Honoka’s hand close tightly and feels as every vine conjured in the vast obscurity of her own obliviousness creeping around her form until at once, she is freed of the horrific cold nightmare only to be entangled in another one. This time, it is by a nest of fearsome thorn addled vines that not only dig deeply and finitely into the captain’s flesh but also into her Reiryoku reserves and wrench away any ability to struggle by way of her physical strength or that of her potent reiatsu.



A precise and binding enchantment of the most threatening sort is the last thing that Captain Omoni Hageshi sees. It is a spell that she had no idea existed in the first place not unlike any of the other incantations those who were proficient in the magical arts utilized. Before the captain can speak, arrogant but justified words escape the abject elder’s lips about the lack of standards that the leaders of the Gotei Thirteen had come to expect. Then all becomes purple and then black and eventually…red. Hageshi had not only lost the fight but also her life at the hands of the teacher. After the spell was released, Omoni’s corpse fell from a significant height and hit the disheveled ground harshly. Nothing could be done but to leave the field by her lonesome leaving the eleventh captain’s body behind to be tended to by those entrusted with that grim task. Once she had stepped through the Senkaimon, she was greeted by agents who held in their hands her object of aspiration. The trophy that would earn her a place among the elite of the elite. Her hand reached out to take hold of her rightly earned stark white haori.



Her eyes started to open and the vision they took in was blurred at first but after two or three blinks, it became crystal clear. There was a pool of ruby red lifeforce on the disturbed earth. If she focused hard enough, she’d be able to tell that the ground she saw was yards away from where she was hanging by the four tendrils that her body was suspended from. All that she could have remembered were the screams. Her screams until they faded and were no more, replaced with sickening crunches of her body breaking. After a moment of reflection the thought may have crossed Honoka’s mind that perhaps this was where The Valley of Screams got its legendary brand.

Then there was pain. So much unbearable pain. So much unimaginable agony that it had forced Honoka into a state of unconsciousness after the first swing of Namakizu into her gut. It was when her mistakes like so many she had made in her lifetime had come back to bite her that reality had become a dream. When had certainty become delusion? Probably while she was being beaten to a veritable pulp such was the aftermath of Hageshi's barbaric technique. Before Honoka had been rudely awoken by misery’s familiar abuse, everything had been going so swimmingly well but all that had played out with utmost supremacy had been nothing but a hallucination, fantasy and desperate resort to escape what horrendous demolition her examinee was doing to her. However, she was not destined to feel this torture for long.

“This is gettin’ boring.”

After vocalizing her displeasure with the current turn of events, Omoni dropped to the ground and with her, Namakizu’s quarry lowered. Honoka was laid gently on the ground a few inches away from the bloodbath of her own making where she’d begin to experience the warm touch of the carnage creator but healer’s exclusive mending by way of the spines still attached to the elder. Within seconds, the Lady’s grievous injuries that had gorged her insides to the point that her spine could be witnessed barely holding the old woman together regenerated so that it appeared as if their explosive battle had not happened in the first place. She’d be left numb and with senses only just beginning to return to her.

“Oi, ya’ awake yet Oki? Ya’ lost.”

The words that Honoka never wanted to hear were assaulting her ears. Once again, the disgraced Lady was handed another degradation and there was nothing that she could do about it. Why? Why?! Why did this happen again?! Why did this keep happening to her?! The first mistake was something that could have been managed had anything been done to discourage it but that along with the second blunder of failing to stop Hageshi’s Zanpakuto from seizing both of Honoka’s wrists just as she had managed to begin to wrap the sponge-like cloth around Omoni's. It gingerly touched her flesh just before being torn away by Namakizu thrusting Honoka’s body into the air and away from the examiner she meant to capture and dominate. The very aspect that Honoka and her plants could withstand the massive weight of the scarf regardless of the amount of reiatsu it was enriched with before and after the encounter with the captain meant that Omoni and Namakizu’s physical efforts combined were able to not only endure it but also wrench it away before it could get a solid grip. In actuality, enough of a lasting opportunity to debilitate Omoni to an unmanageable extent had not been given to Honoka so there had not been near enough of her reiatsu absorbed to hinder her. In fact, one of the few who could do claim such a thing had to be her adversary, the one and only Captain Omoni Hageshi. Truthfully, in light of the circumstances, Omoni should have been at a severe disadvantage against Honoka since she was unable to cast spells and the both of them could execute similarly tentacle-like appendages that could sprout at will and besides the Oki there was nigh another who could undergo total ruination and stay standing. Additionally, Hageshi was a cesspool of everlasting energy but Honoka undoubtedly had the means to siphon Omoni to the point of exhaustion. Her plan had gone so well and should have resulted in flawless victory.

“I was seriously rootin’ for ya’ too. Oh, well…”

No, sadly…it had been the smallest aberrations that led the Lady Honoka Oki to her defeat.

Omoni’s club became engulfed in flurries of sky blue flame before shrinking and returning to her knuckles having been sealed once more. Looking at the decrepit elder caused Omoni to scowl. Seeing her friend like this gave that woman no pleasure but if it could have been, it had to be done. Short of killing Honoka, what she had done was the extent of what she was willing to do. The message had been sent that the Oki had failed her endeavor. For a minute there, she made Omoni wonder what would have happened if it hadn't been for the missteps that she had. With a soft sigh, Hageshi grumbled.

“It’s over. Let’s go back.”

The titan turned on her heel and started to trudge away but then she stopped and turned to look back at Honoka. The ferociousness of the monster the examinee clashed with from earlier had gone completely. In it's place, the blank expression and unmarked face of someone who was very very dull.

“I'm gonna follow ya' cause' I dunno’ where I'm goin'.”



Nao Murakami

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Listen While You Read

Goodness what a long day it had been! As a ranked officer of the Seventh Division, there was never a dull shift, always a fire needing to be put out both literally and figuratively in the far reaches of the beautiful Rukongai. Though she loved what she did, there was no denying that it sometimes left her with a lingering tiredness that only a deep pipe, equally as deep barrel of alcoholic beverage, and a nicely crisp barbecued eel would fix.


Booze was absolutely in the plans as she weaved through the barracks, elevated Geta resounding with immaculate precision as she hummed the upbeat tunes of some new hit remix from one of the Ninethers. Things had picked up with the Ninth since Captain Yūgure took the reins, injecting the Gotei 13 with an uplifting positivity that Nao resonated with. After all that had happened over the centuries, it was a necessary deviation from the gloom and doom, the mere thought forcing out an audible yuck. But only for a split second and then she was back to the happy-go-lucky Nao, humming aloud with gusto as she rounded the final corner that led to the officer’s wing and her dormitory. The white paper door swung open and then closed within a single breath, Nao seated at her desk by the time it shut with a thud. She melted into the comfortable, leathered cushions.

“Ohhhh yeaaaa…” she let out quietly, eye closing, her breaths slowing as she drifted…




She nearly rolled her eye underneath its lid.

“Yes, dear?"

The whisper came with gentle resolve, surely heard by her colleague across the hall. The sound of Misaki’s dormitory door sliding was followed by footsteps, followed again by the swift opening of Nao’s door. The young officer’s elation had spoken to Nao even beyond the white walls of the Seventh’s compound, chalked up to some monumentally positive occurrence on her behalf. The first guess, a promotion! To where, to where, to where were the two words that had intermittently plagued her mind on the trek home.

“I’ve gottttttttttttttttttt something for you!”

Nao’s brows rose with curiosity, single-eye closed…but then it opened abruptly as the thoughts of her compatriot were made ever so clear. IT had finally come?!

The sealed missive was snatched, opened, and read right out of Misaki’s hands before the poor girl could even register WHAT the hell had happened. Nao looked up, her chair still spinning in the backdrop, a surprised and breathtaking joy rung across her gentle features. Took Misaki a little while to catch up to speed.

“What’s it say, Nao? NAO, WHAT’S IT SAY?!”

She fell back onto clouds of elation, the excitement rushing up to clog her ears, muffling all external noise, oblivious to her friend's bombardment of questions. What brought her to her senses was the familiar shaking of the wall, brought on by Goro from upstairs flushing his toilet, which was supposedly due to a piping issue that for SOME damn reason hadn’t been fixed yet.

“My request for the Captain’s Examination has…been accepted!”

The two locked eyes, mouths agape, the understanding of what this meant shared telepathically. They jumped into each other's embrace, giggling and laughing like silly girls, hopping up and down. The paper slipped from her fingers as she turned to grab her Denreishinki.

“Hey Nao, did you read…?

She typed up a storm on her Soul Pager, smiled, laughed, stopped in between daydreams that lasted milliseconds. “Read? Read what, my love?”

“Your proctor? Who you’ll be facing in the test?”

Confusion struck as she attempted to remember who. She gazed upon Misaki with complete ignorance, eye wincing as she prepared to be struck by the revelation; she must have skipped over that one little detail.

“Uhm…hehe…Captain…Yasu Yūgure.”

Nao closed her eye, looking like she’d been hit in the guts.

“...Oh my…”


Listen While You Read

Captain Yūgure, historically known amongst the Seventh as the Kenka-ya, the brawler, the in-your face, no punches held demon…


A title, whether or not Nao believed appropriate, had been assigned to the Captain of the Ninth. Rumors spread throughout the Rukongai of the White-Masked Demons and their viles, feared for their uncontrollable chaos and indiscriminate destruction; vilified, made to seem the epitome of evil. Such beliefs nailed deeper into the minds of the people after the horrors displayed by the two corrupted Captains during the Kenpachi Games. Even so, Nao didn’t look upon them with any disdain, seeing them simply for the Shinigami they once were. They’d shown remarkable control over their Inner Hollows, garnering a respect from her for in truth, she couldn’t see herself doing the same if she were faced with such an obstacle. An unsavory control, and to some folks, frighteningly grotesque; a test of their will, and furthermore, of their resolve as Captains.

Tests came and went like whispered words in the wind, fleeting moments of forked roads paved with irreversible consequences. The winds of the Soul Society were especially cruel, bringing with them all manner of difficulty that when mended, marred the world with unpleasantries; some affecting the internal, the soul, while others the external. A hard and inescapable truth for those pledged to the cause of the Gotei 13, a never ending series of life-altering phenomena. This Captain’s Test was merely the latest, in some ways the realest and inconsequential in others. Success or failure, fate would see to it all the same.

Such was the reason why the Captain-hopeful strolled through the Senkaimon with a full blown smile, no semblance of nervousness, following the guidance of the Hell Butterflies that she loved so dearly, until the doors parted giving way to the brightness that preceded her arrival into the Valley of Screams. The torrid air struck first, desolation incarnate only coming to view after her vision adjusted to the new realm. The whiteness from behind slowly receded as the doors of the passageway closed shut, leaving her in a world awaiting to witness calamity. She took in the sight of the red dunes and dirt with purpose, combing the barren lands as far as she could. No life, no Captain Yūgure, nothing.

Though her senses were sharp, discerning, and usually accurate, she knew better than to dismiss the shenanigans of those raised, beaten, and molded by the Phantom himself. It wasn’t a mystery, at least to her, that the Onmitsukidō were capable of extraordinary feats when their desire was to be left unseen and undetected, as if they didn’t exist at all. Nevermind that Captain Yūgure was one of the foremost practitioners of Shunpo, the ferocious girl being one of the quickest in the Gotei 13, confirmed from what had been on display during the games.

Senses alert and Umōmaru at her side, arms folded across her waist in wait for what was surely going to be a remarkable experience and a once-in-a-lifetime story worth telling…

…over drinks.​
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