|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Aug 13, 2021 7:35:48 GMT -8
Dropping into a roll, Lyra avoided the lashing tail by a hairsbreadth, popping up to her feet with a wobble. The Hollow was big enough that it had to twist, bending its head this way and that as it cast about for its meal. It might have been ungainly up close, but the thing could move. Lyra had learned that the hard way when she’d thought outrunning the monster was her ticket to make it into work on time.
They were long past that juncture. Not only was Lyra 17 minutes behind schedule, but her clothes were sticky with sweat, and her hair was in disarray. Blood trickled from a shallow cut on her cheek and she swiped it away angrily.
Fighting angry was wrong. Idiotic and inelegant. But Lyra had never been late to work before and this thing wouldn’t leave her alone.
It seemed to know where she was even cloaked in Shadows; which Lyra had only pulled out as a last resort.
That massive questing head and the multitude of tendrils she hoped were tails because the alternative was creepier, flicked this way and that, before slowly turning in her direction.
Lyra swallowed hard, skittering back a step. Getting up close and then holding still had seemed to confuse the beast for a while but it was learning. She couldn’t keep this up forever. Mr. Green expected that report on his desk before noon and Lyra was still trying to figure out the formatting.
The Hollow flicked another appendage her way, its thick tail crashing towards her with the force of a freight train. She jumped, kicking off thin air with a burst of reiryoku, and tumbling backward in a particularly graceless sprawl. Lyra’s foot had slipped, and it took all her control to avoid spraining something as she hit the pavement.
Asphalt tended to crumble but under enough force it could be convinced to chip. Shards flew every which way and Lyra grimaced at the stinging pain – this was her work outfit!
“Please, just go away,” she huffed. Lyra’s arm rose to protect her eyes from the flying debris, the thin blade in her hand making a wild swipe at the tail, which parted like butter at the lucky connection.
She had managed to hit the thing a few dozen times, but her knife was too small against something this massive. Whatever damage she’d done was superficial. Lyra had never thought she’d miss the easy arterial spray of fighting a mortal but this was getting ridiculous.
|
|
|
|
Post by Goro Tachibana on Aug 14, 2021 9:53:56 GMT -8
A squatting gargoyle against the bright blue sky, though not half so ugly, Goro peered down at the mortal world natives from his perch a few stories above. Like a great vulture he analyzed them with cold blue eyes: this one too big, that one too small, another too clumsy, too impatient, too weak, too soft, each and every one of them was just too much. No wonder Seireitei was having a hard time recruiting decent Shinigami if this was the stock they had to pull from. Pulling his gaze up he saw his own reflection in the glass skyscraper across the street, the wind playing with the trail of hair tied to the back of his head, and he stood to check his uniform. It was hard to see the details from the distance, but it looked like he'd done a good job of patching it up. If you looked real close you could see the stitching and the off-black of the patches, and he couldn't quite scrub the bloodstains all the way out, but it was good enough until he could requisition another set of clothes. The injuries behind the holes had healed, thanks to an emergency response team, and he was back on duty the day after. Part of him almost wished the girl and her Hollow (It satisfied him somewhat to tie the two together, though she and the beast had no connection) had roughed him up a little more, at least then he could have claimed a day off. The report for that particular encounter was still due, and Goro had only decided on how best to format it. Exactly what he was going to write he wasn't sure. How was he supposed to write 'I got beat up by a little Quincy girl and her big dog Hollow' without upsetting the higher-ups? With an annoyed sigh he leapt into the open air, then vanished, appearing again at the edge of another building, and another, zigzagging across the city. He'd gone up and down his stretch of land multiple times that day, but nothing interesting was going on. Some mortal crimes, but that was beneath him. Procuring an old flip-phone from his Shihakusho he checked the time and sighed again. "Another three hours of this shit." He cursed. As if in response the world gave him excitement. Something had entered the boundary of his spiritual sense, something big and something small. For a moment he wondered if the Quincy girl had followed him and found another Hollow to gang up on him, but it didn't feel like her. A quick pat down to make sure everything he needed was safe and secure, and he leapt again, vanishing. When he arrived on the scene he peered over the edge of a small office and groaned. Another girl, another Hollow, this time the roles reversed. He contemplated leaving the girl to her fate while she coiled and rolled, briefly pondering if this was how the Quincy had felt watching him. No doubt she clashed with her own morality, but for Goro morality had nothing to do with it. Heirarchy influenced his decision. The mortal girl held responsibility for defeating her own enemy, but his duties held precedence, and if he stepped on her toes in the line of duty she didn't have the authority to admonish him. He watched a little longer, noting the girls reluctance to actually fight. Sure she resisted, protected herself, but every opening was wasted. Goro couldn't be sure what powers she held, but surely they had some kind of offensive capabilities. Yet she did everything she could to stay safe without utilizing them. By the time he decided to engage she'd already cut a gash into one of it's tentacles with a knife. Impressive, for such a small weapon. Stepping off the ledge Goro fell to the ground with a light pat of his sandals against pavement, mere feet from the beast hunched over it's meal. With intense focus, Goro extended his palm. "Hado Number One: Sho!" The spell loosed a great wave of force. Wind rushed into the vortex in it's wake as it slammed into the multi-headed monster and sent it reeling. Goro wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, the Hollow would fight on his terms or not at all. "Hado Number Four: Byakurai!" Electricity arced from his fingertips and engulfed the creature, and though the spell wasn't lethal, it served to paralyze the beast before it could swing back from the force of Sho and attack. His other spells were less controlled, so with a clean rasp he unsheathed his zanpkauto and leapt like he'd done a hundred times that day, vanishing and appearing above the beast, his blade falling neatly into it's head and piercing through the eye of it's mask. A moment passed, as if the monster was considering it's own death, and then it collapsed into a rapidly dissipating corpse. Kicking aside a floppy tentacle Goro stepped off the Hollow, blade sheathed with all the grace of a person who'd performed the action thousands of times, and let out a relieved sigh. It went far better than time. As an afterthought he glanced toward the human woman, and she didn't seem injured. She could definitely see him, it took a good amount of power to fight a Hollow like that without releasing some kind of power. "Now you're the kind of soul the Seireitei could use more of." [EXP: 5][Total: 5]
|
|
|
|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Aug 14, 2021 10:40:42 GMT -8
Fate had made a habit of dropping things from the sky around her of late.
Lyra didn’t have time to consider what this might mean, though she did find her gaze trailing skyward, just in case another figure wished to appear. It was important to have a finger on the momentum of a moment – already things had shifted and snapped back into place, the configuration changed, Lyra no longer in lock-step with the narrative.
The Hollow which had been menacing her for an inexcusable amount of time was brought low in mere seconds. Seconds which had been packed full of lights and wind – the practiced perfection of a form followed through to its final execution.
Were she not better trained Lyra might have stared with her mouth left hanging at this newest figure. Awe prickled in her fingertips as she lowered her arms, straightening from her preparatory bracing now that the Hollow wasn’t there to toss her around.
If there was one thing Lyra appreciated, it was style. That, more than the man’s obvious prowess, had her rocking back on her heels with visible admiration. Had he manufactured this scene it could not have been a better opening.
She flicked her blade in a move reminiscent of a samurai’s chiburi – the Darkness which had solicitously lined the very edge of her knife, providing a cutting power the inert object otherwise lacked, blinked out of being. Telegraphing the movement, Lyra then sheathed her knife at her side, solicitous in her own way.
“Thank you,” Lyra bowed deeply. Folding in her response to what seemed a compliment with her gratitude at being saved – efficiency was always appreciated.
“You saved me,” she added, unafraid of the tautological nature of this conversation. Anyone who appeared in such a fashion clearly wished to be regarded with appropriate recognition and respect.
“Though I apologize, sir – I’m sorry for the hassle I’ve caused.”
Lyra filed away the unfamiliar term for later. It would be rude to force the issue here and now. If he was using such words, then he expected her to understand and Lyra could at least be polite enough not to ruin his moment.
|
|
|
|
Post by Goro Tachibana on Aug 16, 2021 9:15:07 GMT -8
As if pleased by the compliment the human woman flicked her knife, sheathing it as he'd sheathed his zanpakuto. Goro watched the display with narrowed eyes, the movement was fluid and precise, though he could sense anxiety, as if she were quickly hiding it away. It was hard to decide if it were habit or mockery that brought the needless ritual to her fingertips. The bow that she gave him was the deciding factor that stalled his wrath, pleased as he was to find a mortal with some semblance of respect for the authority above them. She apologized while he took a step into her space to look her over, an invasive process that belied the respect inherent in the Shinigami code of protection and cultivation. She was a twiggy little thing. Hard to imagine she could keep a Hollow of that size and tenacity at bay with meagre muscle alone, there must have been some trick to it. He eyed the knife at her hip with a frown, hanging one hand within the fold of his Shihakusho and fiddling with the bottles sewn into the inside contemplatively. Something about her dissatisfied him, though he couldn't find the solution in her appearance. "As you should be," he told her, stepping away with a half turn. "Had I let it eat you, as I intended, it would have been focused enough on the meal to dispatch more cleanly." Cold azure eyes found the warm gold of her own for a moment before he broke eye contact and turned his back on her. No sooner had he taken his first step away than the thought occured to him that she might simply tell him if he asked. He didn't want to seem curious enough for it to be labelled fraternization, but maybe he could glean something useful enough to include in his report and please the higher ups. Stopping on the second step, Goro turned again to face her at an angle, still ready to leave if her answer displeased him. "Why didn't you fight back?" He asked plainly, his tone unintentionally accusatory. He saw her swiping at the thing with her knife, but that wasn't what he meant. [EXP: 5][Total: 10]
|
|
|
|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Aug 16, 2021 9:39:15 GMT -8
She disguised her wince with another bow, this one lower. As impressive as the man’s entrance had been the notion it could have been better had he not stepped in on her behalf poked little holes in her delight. Lyra deflated slowly, waiting for him to turn away so that he would not be further burdened by her presence.
(Though some small part of her admired that effortless pivot, the steel to his dismissal. How perfect would his scene have been if this was a step down from what he had intended?)
Holding her bow, Lyra counted down the seconds. It would take him five to reach the street crossing. Perhaps three if he jumped. She was unfamiliar with the aerial angles but that seemed a safe estimate. Ten at most before he would move beyond her line of sight.
At two he broke script and Lyra had to rise prematurely to match the shift, her trail of numbers floating off and leaving her stranded. Lyra had not felt so off-kilter for weeks and a tiny flame of irritation licked at her throat before she squelched it. This was his moment to choreograph and the fact that Lyra couldn’t adequately predict his pacing was on her.
She dropped her gaze and slipped back into her role.
In truth, he hadn’t changed much at all. He stood tall and imposing, not even wasting the effort to fully face Lyra, as if her deficiencies were an afterthought. Clearly a frustrating one. Lyra could sympathize.
Her knife was still in hand, one palm pressed to the warmth of that buttery smooth hilt. Lyra let that ground her.
“I apologize, sir. It was futile – I couldn’t harm the Hollow, and I didn’t want to create a scene.”
Lyra pressed her lips together, teeth closing over further excuses. A man like this would understand. He saw the surface of things, the staging to it all, so surely he would grasp the importance of staying within the defined lines.
"It wasn't my place."
|
|
|
|
Post by Goro Tachibana on Aug 24, 2021 9:42:36 GMT -8
A complex web of emotions, neatly pressed, became a tangled knot with the ease of just a few simple words from Lyra's mouth. Fury, pride, frustration, confusion, gratification, all bubbling on a surface of darkness that Goro's mind couldn't penetrate. It wasn't her place to dispatch Hollow, that much was true, but it was a lie to say that she was incapable of doing so, so which side won out? Fight and live in defiance of the status quo, or embrace your lot in the moment and preserve the way of things with death? The immediate answer was obvious, but Goro knew that were he in her position he'd have fought back with all his might, though he was incapable of correlating it with defiance of Seireitei law. The two realities should have clashed, Goro simply refused to connect them. Once again he turned fully to face her, slower this time, as if ruminating on every degree and inch. He had to wonder how such a meek weak-willed creature could move with such strength yet claim the preservation of their own life beyond their jurisdiction. If Goro hadn't shown up, would she have run and evaded until her strength gave out? "Then why not die?" He asked her sharply, almost childishly. The ice around his pupil was pointed and still, piercing. A furrowed brow and displeased frown gave him a frightening countenance, as if another wrong answer would start a fight. "If it isn't your place to kill a Hollow to keep yourself alive, is it your place to put others at risk because you don't have the pride to defend yourself? Should I kill you now to protect others later? Tell me, why do you value your life if it's worthless enough to throw away?" [EXP: 5][Total: 15]
|
|
|
|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Aug 25, 2021 15:21:27 GMT -8
Lyra blinked, a concession to the shock playing ping pong inside her chest cavity. It seemed such a basic question that all she could do was stare and search desperately for the trick. Why would someone ask something so straightforward? What could this man possibly want from her?
It was not what she had provided thus far, Lyra concluded, gazing up at his stern features. The ripples of approval had all come in the wake of her comportment but not her words, which seemed to be the source of some unseen consternation.
Did he think he had not performed his duty to satisfaction if saving her as an individual was less impactful than saving an actual life?
Fingers curled in her loose hand, nails scraping against her palm with only enough pressure to hint at the sensation. She hadn’t meant to complicate his day. It was ill luck on his part to run across Lyra of all people.
“I would prefer it if you didn’t kill me, sir. I am expected at work today and there is an important report I still need to finish.”
Not that she didn’t sympathize with his situation. Surely many people found Lyra irritating enough to consider killing her – no one had ever asked her to justify her existence before, though. This was a new experience and not of the enjoyable variety such as had been piling up lately.
“I’m not sure I know the answer to your question. Whether my life has value or not is dependent on what others decide. But I can’t throw it away myself, that would be ungrateful. And I would like to live in order to try to improve myself – though not if my living requires hurting those important to me.”
Lyra glanced aside, tightening the muscles in her legs which was a much more discrete form of fidgeting.
How silly did she sound to a man like this? That was precisely why Father reminded her not to talk too much; the further off-script and the more complex the notion the less likely she was to make any sense at all.
She considered her mindless babble up until this point and found it lacking. Lyra was of the notion that digging one’s own hole deeper allowed the people around her to make easier decisions so she tried again.
“Using my abilities here would have drawn attention and caused trouble for my family. I don’t want to be a burden on them.”
Would it help him to know that Lyra hadn't made the decision of her own accord? She wasn't sure. This man was difficult to read and his disapproval had her blood thrumming.
“They would be disappointed if I died. I’m not supposed to do that – so if you do choose to kill me, I will have to fight you, sir.” Lyra looked back into the man’s eyes so that he would know she held no deception. “I still can’t use my power, though, because that can’t be easily explained away to normal humans.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Goro Tachibana on Aug 26, 2021 10:41:49 GMT -8
"So you could have killed it." He confirmed, crossing his arms in what he hoped would be a less hostile posture, but nothing Goro did was without hostility. "But you didn't, because it would have drawn attention to your folks somehow. But you also can't let yourself die because it'd be an inconvenience to them." He went over everything she said and summed it up to bolster his own understanding of the situation. The fingers that played with poison bottles slipped from inside his uniform to scratch at a head that was having a hard time wrapping itself around what the mortal girl was saying, but it was starting to get through to him, and he began to pity her. While he didn't think on it directly, on an instinctual level Goro knew he experienced something similar, being beholden as he was to Soul Society. To say that he felt empathy, however, would be an insult to his pride. She had some conviction, that much was true in the resilience of her stare, but at that point Goro felt like he'd be kicking a puppy. A puppy with only three legs. "Wouldn't be satisfying, trying to kill you if you couldn't fight back." He grunted, deliberately looking away at the throngs of passing New Yorkers. "If people want to throw themselves into harms way to save your pathetic existence then so be it. As for me, I was just doing my job." "Still," he trailed off, returning his gaze to her with a hunger. Exactly what her power was that it could be so bombastic as to need hiding, and who her family were that they'd value secrecy above even the life of their members, Goro couldn't help but wonder. Most mortals were unregulated, like the Quincy girl he'd met the other day, flinging attacks and screaming at the drop of a hat. Shinigami had laws and codes that determined what they could and couldn't do at any given moment, but none of them were foolish enough to hold them above their own lives, with Shinigami being as few as they were in the modern day it was almost law to disregard the law when it was a matter of life or death. Why did this girl require such disciplined adherence? "Sounds like a pretty pathetic family with such a self-defeating attitude as that. It's only a matter of time before something comes along to kill you and nobody is around to keep you safe. Is this foolishness your idea, or did your family impose it on you?" [EXP: 5][Total EXP: 20]
|
|
|
|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Aug 26, 2021 13:13:17 GMT -8
“Yes,” she confirmed. Unruffled by this necessary dissection. The more the man peeled back the easier it would be for him to see who she really was. Or rather, who he wanted her to be deep down. Father hadn’t told her to make connections with the Shinigami but he would be disappointed if she tossed this opportunity away.
Cooperation was a pretty excuse. The sort of word Lyra used in her reports to explain her actions, an instinctive desire, emotional but not histrionic. In reality, Lyra didn’t care whether the man saw her soft underbelly. She had nothing to hide and no reason not to be transparent.
Hiding meant you were exciting enough that there was some value in the pursuit. That you had something worthwhile to take or discover. It was one of her least favorite games.
Even though it was tricky to find the balance between docility and resistance; enough to hold his attention and draw out his curiosity, but gently – yielding before he thought to make her.
She knew by the way he kept looking at her, putting off his departure for another question, that she had succeeded. The only catch being a performance Lyra didn’t mind slipping into – his attempts to upset her and thus gain more information were easy enough to comply with.
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. For once she didn’t lower her gaze at the first sign of conflict and instead held his steadily.
“My family is anything but pathetic. Would you rather I had been so prideful that I caused a scene leaving you to deal with mortals aware this wasn’t some gas line explosion?”
They weren’t in a crowded area but New York City was never empty. Even tucked away from the main thoroughfare where Lyra had led the Hollow once she realized it was on her tail, there was still a stream of passersby, and the perpetual presence of cameras.
“That would have benefited neither your people nor mine.”
“Besides, you misunderstand me. There are regulations I follow when out in public to keep the peace. Not everyone is beholden to the same rules. If I could use my ability without broadcasting to all and sundry that the spiritual world existed then it would be fine.”
He seemed to place an awful lot of importance on the struggle to survive. Father had brought up the topic of Shinigami only sparingly, drawing broad strokes of their supposed militaristic society, so she was surprised to find one who didn't understand the notion of a bottom line.
What did it matter if she died today or tomorrow? If it was an easy or a hard death? The details were inconsequential compared to following the instructions she'd been given. Lyra didn't know why secrecy mattered so much but if Father said so then that was that.
Her own priorities had bought her this life -- Lyra would happily die and be forgotten if it meant she was doing something useful for once.
|
|
|
|
Post by Goro Tachibana on Aug 30, 2021 9:12:20 GMT -8
She leered at him when he insulted her family, and Goro realized he'd struck a nerve as he leaned back, arms still folded, and grinned smugly. He may not have been savvy to the inner workings of the mortals organizations, but the girl chewing him out seemed equally oblivious of the way Shinigami worked in the modern day. Sure, perhaps a few decades ago the Shinigami would be sticklers for order and secrecy, but even Goro could see that the age of hiding was swiftly coming to a close. Now though? The Seireitei didn't have enough manpower to worry about those kinds of things, so even if Goro managed to reveal the hidden world to even a hundred mortals all he'd get for it would be a slap on the wrist. Hell, they didn't even care that he'd killed Rukongai souls. Not just any souls--a voice in the back of his head soured his mood--family. The grin dropped. For a moment his hand rose up to his shoulder and he held his fingers to his shoulderblade, painfully aware of the flower that inked his skin, then both hands found his hips in similar fashion to a lizard fanning its frills to look bigger to potential combatants. "And who told you that?" He asked, stepping back into her personal space. "Your family? I've got news for you, kid: your family's telling you lies. Here's the truth: Keeping mortals safe? Hiding the spiritual world? That's not my jurisdiction, and even if it were the only punishment I'd see for failing that duty is a stern talking to, no matter how many mortals open their eyes or die as a result of my actions. Now, I'm not exactly a free agent, but while I'm filling in I basically have free reign." It wasn't the whole truth, but technically nothing he told her was false. Certain things were required to be kept secret, he couldn't outright tell her that Seireitei was short staffed. "Our only bottom line is making sure the worlds population of mortals is controlled, so with the rate mortalkind is growing? They might even thank me. So what's more important?" His hand found the hilt of his blade, an unsheathed threat. "Your regulations? Or the lives of every mortal within a ten mile distance?" [EXP: 5][Total EXP: 25]
|
|
|
|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Aug 31, 2021 13:24:59 GMT -8
That was new information. And judging by the Shinigami’s increased aggression it was true – at least in so much as any one thing could be taken at face value. He had grown agitated, sinking back into the comfort of denigrating Lyra and Father’s knowledge. In order to make her feel small, he had to correct her assumptions, providing details Father was sure to be interested in even if he cared nothing for Shinigami in general.
Lyra took a shallow step back when the Shinigami advanced into her space. The heel of her boots crackled against the pavement as she planted her feet; holding ground now that she had displayed an instinctive fear.
“Filing in?” The mortal worried at her bottom lip, eyes dropping and then latching back onto his face. Shoulders slowly locking as if mimicking strength meant he would fall for the poor catch.
This was Lyra’s territory again. The scene evolving in a direction she finally understood. So it was stupid to speak up like that, to highlight her curiosity on his specific wording rather than the bulk of the Shinigami’s explanation.
She widened her eyes, fingers curling tight at her sides. Panic was an interesting thing. Sometimes the mind skipped over the obvious to fixate on anything other than the threat. She could work with that.
“Then whose jurisdiction is it?” Lyra lifted her chin, an uneven voice a counterbalance to the confrontation.
All traces of plucky courage melted when he went for his sword. It was an effective gesture. (Approval lurked somewhere behind all her calculations.) Such an interestingly phrased threat.
Lyra swallowed, looking around as if to check how many people were nearby. Too many no matter how you counted. Her expression slipped away, blankness setting in like a snowdrift, only her eyes glittered with some painful emotion.
“It doesn’t matter.” She spoke firmly, regret neatly tucked away. “If you hadn’t intervened and that Hollow murdered everyone, it still would have been right to follow my regulations. If Shinigami aren’t going to protect all of humanity that doesn’t change the rules I operate under.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Goro Tachibana on Sept 3, 2021 15:30:59 GMT -8
A step back was all the ground she gave him before she decided to dig in her heels, but Goro was starting to get a feel for her now. Just a puppet following the commands of others, but where did those strings lead, and how much tension would it take to snap them? She asked who'd have to clean up if Goro got messy, but the answer was so painfully dull he left it unsaid. He knew exactly what would happen; some cronies from the 13th Division would show up to make sure the damage didn't harm relations between mortals and Shinigami, then they'd cart him back to Seireitei where the 6th Division would charge him, dock his pay, perhaps give him a nice week of unpaid leave, and he'd be back to work like nothing ever happened. "Is that so?" He assked her when she stuck to her guns. The slow rasping hiss of his blade being slid from it's sheathe punctuated a turning point in the conversation, he was close enough that if he drew it at just the right angle he could slide it across her neck, but instead the glimmering edge of death kept its distance. He could feel the disapproval of his zanpakuto spirit in the way the tsuba needed a little more push from his thumb before the blade could be drawn, but Goro already held a disdain for his own Zanpakuto, approval from a sword wasn't what he desired. Like an extension of his arm he held it out to his side, shoulder leading to elbow, leading to wrist, to hand, and to weapon, all in a straight connected line. That way, across the road, an office building sat blissfully unaware of the danger, its contents typing and chattering away like any other day on the job. "I wonder," he began, still looking into Lyras golden eyes for any hint of rebellion. "Did your family ever tell you that once the incantation of a Shinigami's kido begins the spell can't be stopped?" It was a lie, but he was sure she wasn't confident enough to call his bluff. The fuller of his sword began to glow a faint crimson, like a beasts eye slowly opening. "Ye lord. Mask of blood and flesh," he began the chant, not bothering to look at his victims, but instead at the only person in the world that could stop him in time as he'd stopped the Hollow from killing her. He was serious, eyes wide and pointed, like a panther waiting to strike. "All creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man. Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south." Every word of the spell grew the luminence of the crimson fuller, until a ball of rippling energy formed at the tip of the zanpakuto, small at first, but growing into an unstable mass of power as big as a persons head. "Hado Number 31: Shakkaho!" [EXP: 5][Total EXP: 30]
|
|
|
|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Sept 3, 2021 16:00:56 GMT -8
Lyra stood still, held in place by a tight control over her own reactions. Neither her curls ruffling in a gust of wind nor the sunlight scattering off the Shinigami’s blade made her blink. She stood still and watched him. Watched the arc of metal and the motes of energy coalescing like a red sunset.
A second stretched, slow in the same way marmalade dripped from a spoon. Lyra felt removed from this scene. She had become the spectator to a play that took a sharp turn towards tragedy. Even if Lyra had the ability to prevent what was to occur, she knew she wouldn’t have stepped forward – this had all the rolling momentum of futility.
Those who fought against the plot of a tragic play would only thrust the entire cast deeper into despair. She couldn’t break genre.
Lyra stood still as the Shinigami prepared to slaughter innocents and she didn’t pause to wonder why any of this was necessary. It was his performance after all.
“I told you,” she murmured in a voice stripped clean of the disappointment that rose up in the face of his misunderstanding. Perhaps it was Lyra’s fault. For not explaining herself properly such that he felt the need to draw his point out in stark irrevocable lines.
“If you won’t protect humans it doesn’t change what I must do. That doesn't fall under my jurisdiction either.”
The air grew heavy with spiritual energy. Lyra felt the heat washing off of the Shinigami’s spell, a refracted light that spangled across a perfectly outstretched arm, shadows drawn long.
Lyra stood still and did nothing.
|
|
|
|
Post by Goro Tachibana on Sept 3, 2021 16:37:14 GMT -8
Nothing happened. The swirling vortex of spiritual power whipped itself into a crescendo of destruction and then petered out, slowly shrinking and spinning less violently, until eventually it was gone. Goro's hair settled at his back, the winds created by his spell no longer tugging at his shihakusho, and in the stillness his eyes softened and glistened with disappointment. On some instinctual level he'd thought himself the lowest creature in the worlds, with nothing left to take away and everything to gain, but now, seeing inaction wrought of... What was it? Dependence that atrophied the soul? Cowardice? Complacence? Despite all his bluster and shows of power Goro still hadn't learned what was at the core of his curiosity. Whatever it was Goro didn't have it, and though he was happy to have found hope for himself, he was filled with sorrow for the one person he'd found that had fallen further than him. He may not know how to reach his own emancipation, but he had a better idea of where he stood on the ladder to freedom. But empathy was weakness, and so sorrow turned into anger. "How pathetic." He said flatly. Unceremoniously, he slammed his zanpakuto back into its scabbard and returned to his cross-armed scowl. Expectantly he waited like that, silence passing between them for an uncomfortable length of time. "Didn't you have somewhere to be?" His voice was cruel and jagged. He had hoped it would be different, but it turned out that she wasn't worth saving, and Goro didn't have the tools nor the patience to fix that for her, so since it was something she had to do herself it wasn't worth killing her either. Despite the irony of his newfound dislike for a girl who's name he didn't know, who's entire existence was to please others with no true reason to live, Goro had found the resolve to never be like her. Though, at the time, he was unaware of just how close he was to being in her shoes, he now had a weapon to defend himself when the time came for him to make a certain choice. [EXP: 5][Total EXP: 35]
|
|
|
|
Post by Lyra d'Aiglemort on Sept 3, 2021 17:01:33 GMT -8
“Oh.” And like that time flowed in reverse. A threat made and unmade, laying ravelled like yarn losing its integrity.
She blinked once, coming back to life with a tilt of the head. Peering at the Shinigami, she saw nothing to latch onto, no prompt waiting in the wings. Only the buffeting sting of his dissatisfaction that burned hot-cold against her skin.
Lyra’s heartbeat ticked higher; fingers pressed smooth against her sides as if she could contain the maelstrom of emotions inside her by force alone. Her calm was the illusion of a sunny day before the storm clouds swept through. It wasn’t built to last.
Opening her mouth, she swallowed back the desire to explain – to twist this moment until the Shinigami could look at her without such potent anger – and bowed instead. Fluid and precise. “Thank you for saving me, sir.”
Repeating a line from earlier seemed necessary. No doubt it would further disgust the Shinigami, but Lyra would remain polite. There was a utility to derision. A softer blanketing opinion that hid as much as it illuminated. She would take derision over hatred any day. Pathetic people weren't worth paying attention to.
Rising slowly, Lyra dipped her head, eyes averted as she moved to step past him. “I will go to work now.”
|
|
|