Blood and Bone [open]

[Dracula]

Screams. Blood. Moon light. Men with swords are raiding a castle in the middle of the night. Their blades slice through flesh and scatter blood across cobblestone floors. There is panic and fear. The battle is one sided and before a counter force can be mustered, most of the humans are already dead. For the hundredth countless time, Marius swings open a large oak door. A blue light from his hand rebels against the orange fire and his bow is formed. He doesn't know the hows or whys of the situation but he sees men in black robes as his enemy and he lets arrows fly. He is few and they are many. He had let off so many arrows that his fingers were bleeding, something that they had not done in several years. It's in vain though. It always has been and always will be. No matter how many times he comes back to this night, he never saves a single soul.

---

Awake in his chair with a fire on the edge of burning out in front of him, Marius Ardeleanu came to tears. The memories that haunted him lingered in the back of his mind while he was awake and took over while he was asleep. The only time he felt escape was when he let the Bount inside him feed; an act that was becoming more and more regular. This lingering remnant he had become, was this it? Was this all he would ever be? Would justice never be served for all of those that were taken by some other foreign power? Four hundred years ago, Marius took up the fight against foreign powers on the mortal side because he never had enough information to enact vengeance on the shinigami. Perhaps now, in this day- in this lifetime, he could do something of actual significance.

Through the shadows of the castle, Marius came to a door that had, until recently, been locked to him. A Quincy Ginto spell had kept intruders from entering this armory of tools and gear. It wasn't long go that a Quincy had finally found their way to the castle. It was that person that unlocked the door but she lacked the knowledge to know what she had truly let free. Marius made his way to tiny rolls of silver disks. No bigger than the pad of his thumb, they look solid at first glance but the many is very delicate when collecting them.

"With this..."

Through the shadows once more, Marius took himself far from the castle walls. Far from the grounds and far from the lands and across the seas until he was on the other side of the world. The people of this country looked different, moved different, and sounded different. He did not see the faces of his people when he looked on them. It eased the guilt slightly. Moreover it took him away from his base of operation and hopefully alleviated suspicion on where he was operating from. Marius was about to make himself openly known to his enemies.

"How many lives have I taken? How many more lives will I take? If I am to live a life where I must kill others to live, then at the very least I can make their lives mean something." With a somber and detached look upon his face, Marius gripped three of the silver disks in his fist yet found himself unable to squeeze. There was an audible grunt and a shake in his breathing as he struggled with his moral safeguards. Many would die tonight. Beyond willful compliance he would be pulling the trigger on their deaths. Should someone come to save them, he would be deliberately trying to kill that savior. This... was genocide.

Genocide... Marius's mind fortified its self by flashing back to that night. He heard those screams as clearly now as he did back them.

"I am a monster! I am the monster they made me to be! And now I will bring my war upon them by whatever means I can!" With a quick snap of his hand, Marius shattered all three of the disks. What once looked like solid matter turned to sparkling dust on the wind. And almost immediately, there was a howl in the night sky. Atop Tokyo Tower, with a red signal light highlighting his blood shot eyes, Dracula threw his hand into the air a let the hollow bait scatter on the wind.

"Come demons. Do my work and reign carnage on this land. Draw out the prison wardens so I may riot against their cause and taste their blood!"

[Xiaobei]

Cocking her head, Xaoibei glanced up from the bit of metal she had been gnawing on, sniffing at the new scent wafting towards her. Lowering her jaw, she inhaled deeply, tongue flicking at the strange smell. She didn’t know what it was precisely, but it lay heavy against her tastebuds, warm and crunchy at the same time.

Definitely much better than the paint chips the little Hollow had found were the source of these metal sticks’ dark green coloring. (Metallic but wrong, gross and flaky whereas the soft ones gushed when Xiaobei bit into them.)

Rolling to her feet in a sinewy wave, Xiaobei dropped her find, boredom leeching the object of all earlier luster. She shook herself, the quills that covered her rustling, as Xiaobei rose up on her hind legs and stretched until her joints popped.

The sky was all bright lights and shimmers. Too high up for Xiaobei to bite the little sparkles -- she had had to admit defeat on that point the night before after several fruitless hours. Laying low for the last while had returned most of her strength and now the little Hollow turned her eyes towards a fresh burst of wind and the delicious scent.

Wriggling in excitement, Xiaobei pounced at the nearest shadow, tumble-rolling against the dirt as she snapped and snarled until rising victorious.

Pale moonlight was weak to those soft one’s lights tonight, the garish brilliance laying like scalding puddles against the stone streets. Skirting the neon pools with a judicious superstition, Xiaobei broke out into a trot as she headed for the nice smells. Not that she was afraid – the yellows and reds were the ones to quiver, silent and unblinking, not a one of them challenging the Hollow as she rushed on by.

Racing by big and little snacks, Xiaobei headed towards her destination with a single-minded focus. She pushed herself harder, leaping longer and longer distances just to feel her muscles sing.

All that excitement bubbled forth and Xiaobei skidded to a halt in front of a really super tall building. Releasing a whine, she shook off her disappointment as she tilted her head back and back until she could peer at the tippy-top of the building.

Was that where the smell was coming from?

Xiaobei whined again. Why did all the soft things have to make stuff so big? It wasn’t very nice. They put so much effort into these fake shells and stayed hiding inside of them for half the day it was a wonder none of them got bored and ate the rest of the ones inside.

But now it was nighttime! No one should be inside right now. Didn’t they smell all the good scents and feel the wind? It was time to run around not to hide. Grumbling to herself, Xiaobei shook her head at the strange world these soft things preferred and shuffled closer to the building itself.

The last time she’d tried to sneak into one of these places the doors kept closing snicker-snack and Xiaobei almost got her quills stuck like that! It wasn’t scary or anything, but the little Hollow didn’t want to repeat the experience.

Maybe she could climb this place instead? It wasn’t as glassy smooth as some of the other fake-shells. And Xiaobei had been dozing for a while now. She had a lot of energy!

Lots and lots and lots. Xiaobei wiggled in place, excitement flooding her veins as she took off at a run and threw herself at the cold metal. Unsheathing her claws, she scrabbled and surged, making it a few feet higher before gravity took effect.

Xiaobei leapt, propelling herself towards the skinny window ledge and clinging tight. With a wild yip, she repeated the process, zigging and zagging towards the nice smells coming from the very top of the building.

[Goro Tachibana]

The claxon split the peace of Goros meditation and his pointed dicussion with Nisekunshi came to an abrupt halt as the 11th Division devolved into chaos, frantic footfalls and everything from excited woops and hollers to worried whining rose up from below. For years the 11th Division had acted ceremoniously, barely more than bodyguards for important individuals on excursions to the human world, this was the first time since joining the Seireitei, hundreds of years ago, that Goro had heard it, and he hadn't expected to hear it within his tenure as a Shinigami.

It was the bell that mobilized Seireitei's dogs of war for their intended purpose.

Immediately, Goro was on his feet. Running along the edge of the rooftop, he could see the rank and file soldiers lined up in the courtyard, like ants Shinigami from all over the Division ran in to fill gaps in the lines and Goro allowed his mind to wander while it still could. How many were there? Enough to fight off whatever they were being called to intercept? How many of those lines would remain whole when the fighting was done? Would he be aware of the missing faces? Better to get the questions out before the fighting began. 

It wasn't long before he was on the ground, the alarm allowing him to bypass the walkway rules to reach his spot in the briefing formation as quickly as possible. He could see the captain staring down her squad, unseemly excitement written obviously in her grin as she began the brief. With luck, and a little effort, Goro could turn this disaster into an opportunity, then he'd be one step closer to a transfer out of the rabid kennel the Seireitei called a Division of the 13 Court Guard Squads.

As if in response to his thoughts he felt the hilt of his blade swell beneath his palm and he wrenched his fingers away from it. After his blunder in France they'd talked of their connection to one another, "two sides of the same soul" as Nisekunshi had put it, but Goro still wasn't sure. Logically it made sense, it was what he had been taught in the academy, but that didn't mean it was easy to accept. 

When the briefing ended and the lines of Shinigami began marching toward the Senkaimon Goro inventoried his belongings, patting himself down to make sure everything he needed was present. 

And then his line advanced.

Far above the mortal world dozens of white circular gates opened and from them flooded hundreds of black robed soul reapers, all brandishing the signature Zanpakuto and screaming bloody war as they descended. When it was Goros turn to make the jump the sight froze him. There were hundreds of them, perhaps a thousand. Bone white masks, with teeth cracked, sharp, and gleaming, some with fresh blood stained stark crimson against the ivory. Crawling through streets, up buildings, thrashing around on rooftops.

Fear took him. He'd killed two in his entire career, and here, in Tokyo, the spiritual neutral zone of the worlds, there were hundreds of them. A shove from behind forced him forward and he half tumbled, half glided down into the chaos. His feet hadn't even touched the warzone before he was accosted by a monster, bloody orbs in black sockets and teeth within teeth opened in a hungry maw. He did the first thing that came to mind and unleashed a spell into the beasts mouth, knocking it from the sky where it fell, smoke billowing from it's throat. Once he fell to the height of the rooftops a Hollow leaped from the corner of a skyscraper, lashing with it's long whip-like limbs. Wrenching his blade from its scabbard Goro cut at the flailing appendages, barely remembering proper zanjutsu form as he hacked and sliced at whichever came nearest. One slipped through, gripping his ankle and hurled him down to the ground just as another Shinigami ran their blade through it's head.

Landing with a heavy thud and bouncing off a wall Goro hit the ground in an alleyway. Winded, he fought to catch the breath that escaped his lungs, forcing his limbs to drag him behind a dumpster. He would not be a casualty so soon in the fight. He refused. Even if it meant hiding so he could recuperate he'd live through the hell that had been unleashed. 

All thought of achievement had vanished, and in its place was survival.

[EXP: 5][Total EXP: 5]

[Dracula]

Screams, blood, moonlight. Men with swords are dying in the streets while they fight white masked creatures born from the short comings of man. Using one bait pellet was rare enough in his time. He had never even heard of using three before. It was initially shocking to see so many hollow in one location. In the moments it took the shinigami to mobilize and confront the beasts, the former Quincy had to resist the urge to save people. Normal people. People that were being torn apart and slapped around by forces beyond their perception. It was fortunate, for him, that the shinigami arrived so quickly and with such ferocity. It allowed him to stay focused on his goal.

An injured shinigami had just fell a hollow beast. His primary arm hung limp and lifeles. His off hand shook uncontrollably with sword in hand. His body was giving out but his mind remained sharp. Taking refuge around a corner, a mantra escaped his lips that he would survive this night. Instinct has him swing at the shadows before he can really register the threat coming for him. Though sharp, the attack lacked strength, the blade was halted in the air by the grasp of Marius's clawed finger tips. From the shadows followed the rest of the black caped figure. Teeth bared and eyes bloodied. Its face twisted in anger. It wasn't a hollow, there was no mask, yet still it threatened this shinigami's life. He's ready to scream but the full figure of that monster loomed over him now. Its right arm reached, covered the man's mouth, and lifted him into the air. He took his hand off the sword and tried to pry himself free. His legs flailed wildly but there wasn't the strength left his body.

"Hush." He's long, quiet, and drawn out when he speaks. If it wasn't a matter of life and death, you might not even hear him over the carnage of the battle. "I know what it's like to be helpless. I wont have you suffer it for too long." Marius dropped the sword and plunged his free hand into the shinigami's chest. The violent scream muffled by the hand and now the blood that he choked on. As a Bount, Marius could not feed on this Shinigami soul. He just held the victim there; letting the young man flail in resistance to the shock and cough in resistance to the drowning. With a casual toss, he threw the corpse away like it was less than nothing.

"One."

Not far off, Marius watched a shinigami fall from the sky. He bounced off walls and hit the ground indelicately. He was breathing heavy, favored one leg, and off balance. Marius snarled before he made his way for the ambush. Into the shadows of his location and out of the shadows of the long haired shinigami. A clawed hand reached out of the wall in an attempt to skewer the man's right bicept. He attempted to recreate the exact conditions that lead to his previous quick victory.

[Goro Tachibana]

While the symphony of war raged around him Goro sat in in the filth and fought to regain control of his lungs, tears welling in his eyes as he suffocated. He just needed time, all they had to do was fight without him for a minute and he'd be ready to go, he wouldn't abandon them. He tried to calm himself, tried to keep his chest from caving inward with the lack of oxygen so that he could draw it in manually, but his body was in panic mode and frantically trying to suck in air it couldn't get. Slapping his free hand up onto the garbage bin beside him Goro yanked himself into a standing position and forced his stomach out and in, imposing his own breathing pattern over his bodies frantic mess of gasps. Eventually a coughing fit heralded his recovery, as if he'd just broke the surface of the water after a deep equipmentless dive and he doubled over, a light coating of sweat covering his brow.

What happened next filled only an instant in time, Goro's instincts saving him from a lifeless sword-arm. A presence, or lack thereof, created a blank spot in his senses; like a hole in a piece of paper. His body reacted to the danger before he saw it, a wordless spell crackling electricity through his fingertips. Slamming his palm down onto his own wrist the disgraced Shinigami shot himself with a Byakurai spell and with a grunt of pain wrenched away from what he could then see was a bony hand extending from the brick wall, claws stretched flat like a blade ready to pierce. Had it touched him whatever it was attached to would have recieved a nasty shock along with him.

It wasn't unheard of for Hollow to have human hands, but it was a little odd.

"Stop!" Was all Goro could splutter out between coughs, swinging his sword up to defend himself. He kept the spot on the wall that the hand had come from within his sight at all times, doing his best to stay aware of everything else around him. If it could come through walls it could come through anything.

"You're in violation..." he coughed again. "... Violation of the Karakura-Tokyo Spiritual-" Another bout of coughs cut him short, followed by a frustrated growl from deep in his throat.

"Fuck it, just come out and fight, coward!"

[EXP: 5][Total EXP: 10]

[Dracula]

Well, that was a shame. The shinigami possessed stronger instincts than his fragile composure let on. At the hint of danger from Marius's sneak attack, the prey used a tricky spell to accelerate himself away from the danger. He followed with a verbal spat at the reaching claw from the darkness. At the man's command, Dracula emerged from the shadows in full form. The twist of confusion was clearly evident on Goro's face. The shinigami had naturally expected a Hollow to be his adversary. Certainly not... what ever this man was. This thing before Goro was nine feet tall and proportionally completely human. Its eyes were bloodshot, ears knife like, and his hands had talons for nails. Very evident and poignant fangs were shown as made a long exhale. Everyone made the same assumption upon seeing this form. A monster from superstitious myth. It looked, walked, and spoke like a man but was not one among them. Vampire. One could hardly blame them for the mistake but those among the truly supernatural persuasion could do a bit better to make the correct guess.

"Such vulgarity. Have some class, reaper."

The sword held in defense did nothing to dissuade the predator's approach. He walked calmly and carefully in approach to the shinigami. An audible popping and crackling came from his hands as he flexed and worked them between rake and spear positions.

"Do you plan to run, boy? Sniveling in your sweat soaked pajamas. Lungs burning. Heart pumping. Cowards live longer, they say." Though only a handful of steps in total, it might've felt like he walked the length of the alley to get within reach of the sword. Goro need only push his shoulders forward to get the weapon plunged into the man's chest.

"Or do you have the stomach to face death like a man."