[BSD-RP] The Valley of Screams

[Shinigami]

Nozamu watches his proctor in the midst of his chanting. He studies the Captain's actions, or rather the man's inaction. He ponders on he reasons for this lack of surprise or response. Was this display of reiatsu not enough to warrant cause for concern from the Captain? Was he calling Nozamu's bluff — or was his knowledge in kidō so lacking that the phantom genuinely was unaware of what the completion of the incantation could mean? The Red Haired Demon ponders, and contemplates, running scenario after scenario, algorithm after algorithm within his constantly working mind. He dissects what he knows and what he perceives, processes the information, connects the pieces, and finally
It clicks
Its as if time begins to drag as his arm descends. His fingers clutch and clench tighter, muscles tense and slightly expand. Reiryoku is surgically forced through the dropping extremity, focused within the limb to ward off against the glint of what he realizes is the rising blade of his opponent. Nozamu's field of vision is quickly clouded as he's forced to bear the brunt of Captain Mukuro's attack with his now reinforced flesh. Nozamu bears through the ordeal as blood is drawn, and retreats to escape the confines of the smokey veil.
That is how it should have gone. It was the picture painted by the numbers calculated within his head. He had little time to properly gauge information and less time to properly assess and process it all, but even in the worst case scenario, it shouldn't have deviated that much.
Genzōken soars free and unrestrained, the smokey veil of carmine quickly encapsulating them both. Kyomu's blade lands with a heavy thud, an inch of flesh carved out. He doesn't falter, he doesn't hesitate and presses the attack further. The veil of smoke surrounding them, the shadow of both man and blade shift, as only the shadow of the man remains. The now shadow-less blade continues its ascent, severing through flesh, muscle, bone, and reiryoku alike.
The whole process is lost to Nozamu, from the speed of the voiceless release of the Captain's sword, the curtain of smoke...and the puncturing of his contact covered crimson hues.
Nozamu from the beginning of the match watches the Captain carefully, but the change of hand going from hidden to slightly revealed is lost to him. Fingers once tucked away only to later become unfurled, visibly hanging outside the haori registers no concern from or to Nozamu. The Red Demon does not question, does not notice, he does not understand. He believes he must watch for the Captain's speed, his craftiness, his sword, and potentially his hakuda, but forgets he faces not only a Captain, but an assassin as well — one of the highest regard and a peerless master in sleight of hand.
Nozamu in his test, is forced to stand against Kyomu Mukuro, the One who wears death — the killer of killers.
The strands that go soaring, though swift in their release and are quite easily dismissed, are quickly understood to be neither strands of hair, nor fabric or fiber or anything of the sort — they are the Anken Needes of the Captain. So thin in form they are often overlooked, easily ignored and overlooked as mere strands of hair. The moment his fingers that were otherwise hidden within his haori became revealed, it meant that the Captain had already launched the two small needles. Though ambidextrous Captain Mukuro is typically shown to favor his right hand in terms of sword play, often leaving his left free and unattended. Anytime Kyomu's otherwise empty and hidden hand reveals itself, it is typically the tell that he was either up to something, or had already taken action.
Often it is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, Nozamu's windows now go obstructed, the contacts punctured and thus robbing the scientist of the data, calculations, and its many other benefits once enjoyed and relied upon. The fluttering Jigokuchō entrusted with giving Nozamu an aerial view of Kyomu from multiple angles, providing real time footage and data to him, though still unnoticed by Kyomu quickly lose their value to the very man who controlled them.
Nozamu took a gamble, standing before Kyomu with no frontal defense, no preparation for a sporadic or abrupt frontal assault from the man lauded as the fastest within the Seireitei. He remained rooted and unmoving in the face of being attacked by the Captain's blade, confident in the defense of his limb strengthened and reinforced by his powerful reiryoku, choosing to move only after the Captain's deed was done.
It was that confidence, that hesitation that kept him within the path of the needless. It was his ignorance of the ability of the Captain's blade and the man's ability to release it at a whim, void of any spoken word that allowed his opponent to rob him of his arm. Arm now severed, contacts now ruined, vision now impaired if not robbed — all within a single moment, birthed from a single choice.
Sekienton served not as a sign of Kyomu's awareness of Nozamu's covert monitoring, nor was it made to obstruct them. It served as a single contingency. As an Assassin he did his best work under the guise of shadows, darkness and obscurity, Sekienton provided him the cover he needed to retreat, attack, and move. And so he does.
Once the blade passes up, and the limb lands with a heavy THUD to the ground, Kyomu retreats into the bowels of red smoke, not pausing to assess if his needles met their mark. His form now fully hidden, his reiatsu, still insulated within his robes, the smoke still obscuring and distorting those watching for his reiatsu, and seeking to sense or detect him through it. Moments after his retreats the lingering smoke distorts in several places, a total of four vague silhouettes now tearing through the veil. Their targets appear to be the Red Demon's left jugular, the remaining wrist, and both thighs. Racing freely through the air with nothing to obstruct their path, the Red Demon's body would become their new home with the passing of a single second. All it would take was a moment, an act of hesitation, a single mistake or wrong move to secure the demon's fate.
As a man of science, constantly at work, constantly tinkering dabbling, theorizing and creating, what creation now would serve him best in protecting him from this killer? As the smoke begins to dissipate, slowly growing thinner and less dense, one can only wonder what else the Captain had in store for the Kyōraku, and what thoughts now swam through his cruel and twisted mind.

 

[Shinigami]

Pain, regret, anguish, anger, even hate were the only five words capable of describing the sound that fueled the blood curdling scream that emerged from Nozamu as Genzōken’s effortlessly continued through the left arm, blood spewing out like a fountain as small bits of flesh and broken bone that broke off the detached limb now flew through the air, but the Captain made a clean, effortless cut, meaning after the battle if he survived, it’d be repairable. The body’s natural reaction to enter shock, causing his head to adjust itself slightly in the direction of the stump, by the time that happened though he was met with the Aken Needles, one weapon that Nozamu had not anticipated. Each of them indeed struck him in the face, the first simply went across the nose, piercing just enough of the skin that it was going to leave a scar, as for the other, well it hit its target for sure, stabbing directly into his right eye, taking away its vision permanently. Normally this was enough for everyday Shinigami to end their battle as it was far too much for them, but Nozamu was not just an ordinary Shinigami, he was a Kyōraku, a direct descendant of Him and right now he wore his kimono, bore his pride and was the only Kyōraku in hundreds of years to have a chance like this.
Nozamu was indeed a man of science, constantly at work, thinking, dabbling, theorizing, tinkering, creating and hypothesizing all sorts of different things, but he was not always that way. No, a man who sits in a lab all day with nothing on his mind but ways to solve the universe's mysteries, well they aren’t truly fit to be a Demon, are they? A demon was a creature with their only goals in life being to kill and destroy all that they see, their power was truly immense, far greater than anything that anyone has ever seen and when a demon is kept dormant for many years, no telling what might happen when it was released. Deep within’ Nozamu, there was a beast gnawing at him, beginning to be free, to unveil its existence to the world once again like a long forgotten plague that comes to seek vengeance once again. His right eye may have lost its sight due to it receiving an aken needle to it, but his left eye’s sight was slowly going dark as he let this feeling take over, that was until an apparition of his Zanpakutō filled his mind and spoke to him in a deep, gravely voice that if was brought into existence, would shake the foundation of the Valley of Screams itself.
”RELEASE ME!”
Almost the moment after Kyomu retreated into the mist, the arm landing with a heavy thud, Nozamu’s right hand soared through the air to grip onto the base of his Zanpakutō, as he began to unsheathe it from its scabbard, a burst of reiatsu was going to barrel forth from him as he spoke its release phrase.
”Toll, Yosamu!”
As the black blade finally revealed itself to the mist, it began to let off a crimson glow that covered its entirety, but before it was able to pierce the misty veil with its brightness, Nozamu slammed the tip into the ground and the blade began to transform. If Kyomu looked down at the ground, or was able to see it at all for that matter, he was going to notice the Valley’s foundation was going to close together and turn into a grey stone-like material, but not only that, it was going to rise into the sky, breaking past the mist in a mere second. Simultaneously to the two of them rising, two seperate pillars, nearing one hundred feet in height and.equal in size were going to emerge from the stone base, climbing a hundred feet in no time, then another one was forged in between them, this one in particular was shaped differently though as it had the look of a shaolin temple’s roof. Then from this center beam, one more item was going to be created, this one appearing to be made in the belly of hell itself, a pitch black bell made from the same steel of a Zanpakutō. On the bell was going to be a Kanji letter that stood for “fear”, unlike the rest of the Shikai though, this addition was much stranger, made purely out of the same crimson glow that covered the blade before, if Kyomu was already near Nozamu, then he was going to be in serious trouble as not only did the area around the two seem to darken, but he was going to begin experiencing hallucinations quite quickly, ones that he never dreamed imaginable, ones that only someone who has entered the door to hell itself might see, every single fear he had deep within’ him was going to manifest before his eyes and come for him. This is what happened when one just stood too close to the front of the bell and Nozamu was going to use this against the Captain for sure, but now wasn’t the time for coming up with tricks, it was the time to be fighting him without holding anything back.
During the entire time of the ascent sixty feet into the air, Nozamu had only time to do one thing, rather than do anything spectacular or stupid like try to summon a Kurohitsugi around the area, he decided it was a good idea to bring back something he had lost. If Kyomu was not too busy undergoing severe hallucinations or gazing at the construct above the two, he was going to see that where Nozamu’s arm once was, reiatsu was going to manifest, moving outwards from the stump, until it reached the same distance of his opposite hand and then refine itself, until it was able to form an artificial arm for the rest of the battle. Within the first few seconds of this fight, Nozamu had lost an eye and an arm for being too careless, even though he prepared ahead of time in several different ways, he was truly an embarrassing sight to see, but he pushed forward still.
When the entire ascent finally finished, the bell above the two of them began moving on its own, as it did so it was going to make its first toll and a small burst of air akin to a shock wave traveled across the area at such speed that it was unlike Kyomu was going to be able to outrun it, but even if it did hit him he was not going to feel any damage to him, instead it did something much worse. Now, Captain Kyomu was going to be able to use one of his senses to its utmost efficiency like Nozamu was, for the air itself was filled with a malicious, dark, almost unnerving reiatsu which had no pinpoint-able source, but it was overwhelming for the senses for sure.
”I won't disappoint you again. You can be sure on that..”

 

[Shinigami]

Nozamu Kyōraku — a shinigami who has devoted his everything in the pursuit of science, in discovering the mysteries of not only the world he calls home, but those separated from his own as well. He studies, he trains, he conceptualizes not what he sees or how reality is, but rather what and how it could be. He devotes his sweat, blood and tears into his life’s work...and today, he sheds all three upon the battlefield. It is today, that the revered blood flowing through his veins
is spilled.

Blood, delayed from the speed and precision of the assassin’s cut splatters out from the severed limb and stump respectively. It pitter patters against the ground like rain, though it is a sound lost to any and all able to bear witness to the battle, as the Kyōraku’s pain filled scream fills the valley. The pain, swift and unexpected from the scientist’s negligence and confidence in his ability to defend against the Captain’s blade cause his body to involuntarily shift, head slightly jerking towards his now amputated limb. The act alone spares one of the Red Haired Demon’s crimson eyes, the other however loses its light as the needle pierces into it.
The whole process alone however is momentarily lost to Kyomu, the assassin true to his profession retreating into the comforts of obscurity the moment his blade completes its swing, his body blanketed by the carmine smoke lingering in the area. Nozamu stands, now forced to continue the battle with a single arm, and a single eye — a handicap he could not afford against the Phantom, but one he was forced to endure. He struggles now, with the pain and the humiliation handed to him by the Captain. However, despite his disadvantage, he seeks neither retreat nor surrender; The Demon seeks recompense from the phantom for all that he has lost.
His right hand, all that he can now depend on, slings over to grip the remaining sheathed sword, the other resting on the ground with his severed arm. The cloud of carmine distorts, as four silhouettes go soaring towards Nozamu appearing to target his left jugular,right wrist, and both his thighs, only to curve and arch around the man. Their diverted path appears almost instinctual as his reiatsu fueled by rage and shame comes barreling from his form with the drawing of his remaining blade.
’TING TING’
The sound of metal colliding with metal chimes softly like bells. Two silhouettes cast aside as the remaining two are sent hurtling towards the back of the Red Demon’s skull and spine, ricocheted off the others they spiral and soar with double the speed, striking before a full second could elapse.
”Toll, Yosamu!”
Their chimes drowned out by the Kyōraku’s command to his zanpakuto. An act that reveals more about the man to Kyomu, his opponent. When it comes to dual type zanpakuto, it was generally a rule of thumb for both blades to be wielded in some fashion when releasing the swords, however there were too many anomalies regarding the blades wielded by Nozamu. The most pressing one was the difference in both color and design, a fact alone which was cause for suspicion. Now, however Kyomu was certain there was something amiss. When losing his sword wielding arm, Nozamu seemed to disregard the fallen blade altogether, immediately going for the remaining sword still housed in its scabbard while making no attempts to retrieve the dropped blade. The shift and flow of his reiatsu as he utters the incantation is what further cements the Phantom’s conclusion.
Two swords with two different designs, the swift abandonment of one sword in favor of the other, the need to only wield one blade when releasing his zanpakuto, and finally...the absence of reiatsu flowing from the remaining blade when releasing his sword. That other sword was not Nozamu Kyōraku’s zanpakuto, which meant that despite toting around two blades, his zanpakuto was not a dual type.
Kyomu extrapolates detail after detail, as the blade shines a deep crimson, only to have its light snuffed out as the blade is forcefully stabbed into the ground. The Captain, uncertain of what will transpire, what form his opponent’s sword will take, and what abilities it holds chooses not to wade into unknown waters — he chooses now, to act.
Running concurrent with the transformation of the valley’s grounds color and composition, a draft drifts harmlessly and soundlessly just past the Kyōraku’s left side, two massive pillars erecting themselves from this new ground. The cloud of carmine begins to weaken, as the rumbling and transforming ground elevates itself towards the sky, breaching past the crimson cloud that only continues to dissipate. Another strange base gives rise, a metallic ring chiming faintly by the ear of the orchestrator of the current chaos.
The red cloud finally fully dissolved, unveils the phantoms image, fixed before the large bell like construct, eclipsing his form — sword apparently rehoused within its sheath, with right hand gripping its handle. The bell, an eerie obsidian, oppresses the valley in its ominous presence. The face of the bell emblazoned with a single image, the almost burning character for “FEAR” casts a cruel glow across all before it. The immediate area surrounding the bell’s master grows noticeably darker, rather from the size of the construct or some effect remains to be determined.
Though prepared to act and move again, the man finds himself paused. For a brief moment he sees it, a sight that he himself would rather not see. The Phantom has been demonized throughout his tenure, and especially ostracized as of recent times. He has committed an unspeakable number of atrocities, though all for greater good. The number of lives both taken and ruined by his hand, innumerable — yet what he perceives in this moment are not his victims come to haunt him from beyond the grave, it is not the leers and jeers of his peers, those protected by his cruelty. He sees neither demon nor goblins, or things that go bump in the night; before the Captain lies the body of his Lieutenant...lifeless.
It causes several cracks within his currently, imperceptible stoic mask. Though his Lieutenant’s lifeless eyes, still open gaze not at him accusingly, the sight alone is enough to pierce and sting his otherwise still heart.
The bell swings slowly, heavily to release a single bellowing toll. A heavy burst of wind bursts and ripples outwards. Nozamu, free and unburdened by his zanpakuto’s ability takes this time to speak, his psuedo-limb forged from his reiatsu hangs at his side.
”I won't disappoint you again. You can be sure on that..”
He speaks to the image of the man before him, words seemingly lost to the phantom. With sword now released, the nightmare begins, the question remains however -
For whom does the bell toll?

 

[Shinigami]

護廷十三隊

 

[Shinigami]

A few weeks had gone by since the Kasumioji plot to kill the Lady Tama Kasumioji in a coup to usurp the clan leadership role. Kurogane Kasumioji failed miserably at the hands of Shusuke Kiyoshi, who received acclaimed praise and honors for uncovering and single handedly thwarting their plan to eventually overthrow the balance that the Gotei 13 solemnly upholds. He could be found in the Sixth Divisions Barracks performing the Jinzen ("Sword Zen"), to build further harmony between himself and En'enra. He has been glad that he hasn’t had to resort to using her in quite some time which means things have been calm of late. But little did he know that the day that he had been waiting on, was finally upon him.
Jingle...Jingle...Jingle
Went the sounds of the small black creature floating in from the calm breeze, leaving behind a dust trail of small sparkling reiryoku and a noise resembling that of wind chimes. Without opening his eyes or adjusting his physical position, he waited for the message to reach him. The small black butterfly gently landed itself upon Shusuke' shoulder and relayed the message from the First Division's leader and Captain-Commander, Shobatsu Murasaki. But the news it beared wasn't what Shusuke had come to expect, or at least not something he had expected until a much later time. "Shusuke Kiyoshi, you are to report to the 6th Divisions Senkaimon to enter the Valley of Screams to perform the combat portion of your captaincy exam. You will be met by Captain Yu Nakamoto of the Fourth Division who will oversee your combat and assess ultimately on whether or not you will go on to become the Captain of the Sixth Division. You have one hour to prepare." the message spoke. Shusuke thought the man was directly in front of him with his authoritative tone, he never failed to exert his will upon his subordinates. Shusuke respected that about him and wished for the opportunity to learn from him one day. Without a second thought, he sprang up to his feet in a kip-up fashion and tucked his blades away on the right side of his hip. He began to walk toward the Senkaimon which should've already been set to his destination, he walked with nervousness. He wasn’t sure about how well this would turn out. He could very well be wrong about where his state of power is. He always felt that there was something he could do to improve upon his already impressive skill set, but this was a good test to see how far he had truly come and no matter the outcome he'd have no regrets. He intended to do everything in his ability to showcase his ability and a Shinigami and his potential to become a Captain.
As there wasn’t anything he needed to bring with him and there wasn’t a way for him to improve any greater within the hour alluded to him he decided to make haste and not dilly dally on taking his test. He was greeted by the Shinigami who cares for the 6th Division' Senkaimon and he simply nodded to Shusuke without a word as a sign of goodluck on his testing, he nodded back in respect without a word but stopped short of the portal to eliminate any faltering confidence in his skills, because he truly did believe he could pass this test. After thirty seconds of getting into his mind and eliminating all forms of doubt, he walked through the Senkaimon and stepped into the Valley of Screams. Now in the Dangai (断界, Parsing World), the precipice world between the Soul Society and all other planes of existence, he then quickly found the exit in which would lead him to the valley. Upon exiting he was greeted by a blue sky, and plain terrain with pale rocky ground beneath his black tabi. The area was war torn, desolate and had definitely seen more than 1,000 battles. Cracks, fissures and craters riddled the battlefield along with hills, boulders and small mountains all caused by the great might of all Captain candidates from over the course of history. The stage was set indeed. He could feel the difference in atmosphere as well, it was hot, a little heavy as if you were meant to be pressed down, but this was no issue for Shusuke, he’d merely adjust in a matter of moments giving some time to acclimate. A smile could be seen creeping across the young Kiyoshi’ face, hands shaking with anticipation and a thirst for battle. Excitement washed over his body like a tsunami over a city, and he was ready to make a big wave. All that remained now was to wait for Captain Yu Nakamoto who had yet to arrive. He would patiently wait in this deadlock zone for probably the biggest battle of his career which would ultimately decide if he had the right to bear the title: Captain.