Post by Sora Shiryoku on Aug 7, 2018 21:06:13 GMT -5
Preface: Sora is effectively a finished character, and thus I've posted his sheet here. However, in subversion to my original statement that I intended to play my old Quincy, Azuma, as a secondary, I've decided that I will instead be writing a new Quincy character who I'm actually proud of, as well as an Arrancar. Now without further ado, here are the sheets.
Loyalties: The First Division, and by extension most of the Gotei, despite his lack of trust in many of those in positions of power.
Snapshots: 1771 - Born blind to two unknown parents, abandoned in the Eastern 80th Rukon district.
1771 - Found and taken in by a small group of older children (a few of whom were spiritually capable) who would grow to become his “family”. 1805 - Learned what the meaning of the term “blind” was, having assumed everybody else was in the same situation as him for most of his life. 1825 - As the rest of Sora’s senses developed to compensate for his lack of eyesight, so did his spiritual abilities, leading to an upturn in his spiritual energy and by extent, his “sixth sense”. 1835 - Began consciously focusing on improving that “sixth sense”, slowly developing it into a rough type of “sight”. 1840 - “Watched” as most of his family was killed in an encounter with bandits from Eastern 79th Rukon District all over some clean water and their few personal possessions. This sowed the seeds of cynicism within Sora, having coped by justifying his family’s death through the idea that no man was able to escape greed and selfish desire, especially in the Rukongai, no matter how deeply pledged to morality they are. 1851 - Having grown tired of the constant violence and perpetual poverty of the Rukongai and wishing to overcome his disability on a higher level, Sora approached Shin’o Academy and was accepted based on his spiritual energy and (somewhat) impressive reiatsu perception, even then by only the skin of his teeth. 1857 - Graduated the Shin’o Academy, having improved his reiatsu perception, as well as having taken to the more physical disciplines splendidly, with a focus on Hakuda. Was sent to the Second Division based on these relatively low-key, precision based skills, as well as his background stealing as a child (albeit that was less publicized). 2000 - Left the Second Division after growing tired of living a life of subterfuge, disliking the intimate deception he had to produce under various circumstances. 2001 - Achieved his Shikai and transferred to the First Division, seeking a less underhanded path. 2023 - Present day, is focusing on integrating his Shikai with his Hakuda abilities. Physical Description: Sora has a lean, chiseled frame, with broad shoulders and a posture that many people note to appear as if its been trained to a level of relaxed perfection. Despite this, his demeanor and general presence aren’t particularly imposing due to his naturally calm body language. His skin tone is also a relatively pale white. His legs are relatively long in comparison to his upper body, and appear bony at first glance, but are actually quite muscular upon further inspection. His arms give off a similar visual effect, and much like the aforementioned legs, are also quite muscular. This obscure appearance, interestingly, is a consequence of Sora’s continued training in Hakuda, and specifically in a hybrid style of Kung-Fu that incorporates the bone and skin-hardening training techniques of the Shaolin.
Sora’s face is much more of a complex focal point than the rest of his body (as you’d expect from… y’know, a face). It is relatively hairless, is not particularly wide, and is just slightly lengthy. Along with this, his chin and jawline are also quite defined. His eyes are colored a stark mix between gray and blue, with the former of the two colors being a result of his blindness, and the second coloration being the result of a natural melanin deficiency. His nose, in tandem with his jawline, is quite defined and slender, starting from a higher point on his face than most. His mouth and teeth are… actually quite unremarkable and average-looking. Not much to say there. However, making up for the lack of interesting lower-face details is his dark birthmark in a shape resembling a star right above his left eye. On top of this, directly below the same eye is a scar received while fooling around with a knife as a young child, still not used to compensating for his blindness. Finally, his ears are slightly large, but are (mostly) covered by his long, Grayish-White mop of hair.
Additional Physical Notes: Sora’s voice is neither deep nor high, and falls into the Mezzo-Soprano range in technical terms. He speaks with a practiced grace, emphasizing every syllable as if it is the most important message one could possibly have to speak. This nature of speaking likely came about due to his passive reliance upon auditory stimulation. Also, if it isn’t already clear: Sora is blind. Clothing: Sora favors loose fitting jeans, long-sleeved cotton shirts, and oversized fleece sweaters while dressing for his own time, as he finds these to be the most physically stimulating. As a blind person, physical sensory stimulation is evidently important to him, something which actually extends as far as his choice in combat styles (Hakuda being his primary method of combat).
Spiritual Description: Sora’s spiritual energy takes on the appearance of green steam, and often causes a warm, but hesitant, sense of comfort within those who feel it. This is a reflection of the collision between Sora’s cynicism and difficulty trusting other people with his wishes to be able to trust and comfort them. On another brief note, his spiritual energy also elicits the scent and taste of warm Miso soup, Sora’s favorite dish. Personality:
Humble | Sora was born, raised, and still has ties to, the 80th East Rukongai district. As you might imagine, it is among the poorest places in the Soul Society, and being a spiritually capable child surrounded by other spiritually capable children in an area known for its lack of food and general resources for survival instilled a great deal of humility in Sora from an early age. He accepts any and all gifts, strongly values what he has, and is respectful when discussing himself or talking to others. Non-Confrontational/Pacifistic | Sora was raised in an environment where he was surrounded by a lack of people with morals. By extension, he was regularly an auditory witness to terrible acts of violence, often caused by disputes of a material or insignificant nature. On top of this, having only been able to survive by committing what could be called petty crime, he even has personal experience with the less moral side of the world, something which he is ashamed to admit. Thus, in the years since his days spent scavenging for food or watching others be killed over it, Sora has grown rather distasteful of violence, subterfuge, and confrontation in general, and does what he can to avoid arguments and senseless fights if only out of the fear that he will turn into one of the monsters dressed like people that he grew up around.
Collected | Sora is, by nature, calm and collected. He likes to think through every decision he makes and analyze most situations from the perspective of an observer, not a participant. While doing so, he is capable of maintaining his cool, even under the most taxing mental or physical conditions. Unfortunately, any situation that forces him to be strictly impulsive will likely be his downfall, as he often struggles to operate when he is unable to maintain this calm he is so well known for. Blunt | Sora is a relatively blunt person. While he does try to use his strong inborn sense of empathy for positive reasons, he is prone to bouts of uncharacteristic insensitivity, especially when hearing others complain about personal issues. This is likely a result of his blindness, as he sees most issues as lesser than something as debilitating as having no sight at all. Despite all of the above, he does notice this affectation, and is actively trying to fight it, since his usual nature is that of a much kinder person than these bouts let on.
Honest | In direct contrast to his bluntness, Sora is known for his unwavering honesty, especially in recent years. After his time in the Second Division, he grew distasteful of all the subterfuge and deception he was forced to engage in, and as such, made something of a vow to be honest. While some may see such militant honesty as a negative thing and perhaps even a synonym of the aforementioned bluntness, this honesty tends to manifest in a positive way. Sora sees no evil, hears no evil, and most of all, speaks no evil. In his pursuit of creating an honest, morally pure and democratic world, this comes into play often, as dealing with Soul Society’s politically charged officers and its nobles can cause all sorts of underhanded situations to come about, especially in the First Division. As such, he takes it into his own hands to deal with these situations in as honest a manner as possible, usually by reporting them to the higher ups, as direct confrontation simply isn’t his style.
Cynical/Distrusting | Sora was originally a relatively optimistic child, surrounded by a “family” of sorts who, despite their lack of blood relation to one another, were always looking out for each other and seeking to do what was best for the group as a whole. However, while still relatively young, a man whomst he regarded as his older brother betrayed the group, leading a group of bandits to their supply of food, initiating a slaughter that killed all but two members of his family, with wounds taking one of those two later on. From here on out, Sora took on a much more quietly cynical view of most people. While he didn’t make it obvious or broadcast his internal suspicion towards everybody he met, he only coped with the loss by no longer trusting anybody at first glance, as he had before. Perhaps this was a valuable lesson, but it hurt in its own right, and still does to this day, further complicating Sora’s desire to provide comfort to those close to him, as he often struggles to find anybody he could consider “close”. On top of this, as a man who values morality, Sora often tries to read too deeply into other people’s motivations for doing things, whether they be dishonest or otherwise. Worst of all, this cynicism causes him to suspect that he is truly motivated by selfish desires, creating relatively intense internal turmoil.
Empathetic | As mentioned earlier, Sora is an instinctually empathetic and caring person, something which often collides with his other, less positive personality traits. Despite this, he does do his best to provide comfort to those who need it, and makes it clear that he is there to help those in need should they desire help. Goals and Achievements: Sora seeks to overcome his blindness and prove to the Seireitei that he can be just as useful as a normal shinigami despite his disability. He intends to do this through his already well practiced reiatsu perception, which provides him with a sort of “spectral sight”, if you would. He intends to continue training this sight until he perfects it. On top of this, Sora wishes to master Hakuda, particularly the more defensive style which he has formed to suit his reliance on touch-based sensory queues. More importantly, he wishes to further integrate his unique, semi-ranged Shikai into this fighting style, allowing him better control of the battlefield.
Finally, his deepest and most personal goal is to rid the Soul Society of those who work as a Shinigami solely for their own gain, instituting a democratic system rooted in honesty and strong individual morality where every voice has an equal presence, no matter their background. Based on this, one could group him into the Fundamentalist side of the “Traditionalist VS. Fundamentalist” debate, as he detests the idea of power only belonging to those who are born into it.
As for achievements, there are very few to Sora’s name, outside of a long, successful stint as an unseated officer in the Second Division, and a recent but somewhat prolific move to the First Division that has resulted in his promotion to the status of an Unseated Officer in a short time. Zanpakuto Appearance: In its sealed form, Shinjitsu No Tachi takes on the appearance of a simple, black-guarded Wakizashi. Upon release into Shikai, the blade vanishes into two clouds of gray fog which then surround Sora’s hands before solidifying into simple, tattered black cloth hand-wraps.
Release Phrase: “Me o akete, Shinjitsu No Tachi. (Open your eyes, Touch of Truth.)” Zanpakuto Spirit And Inner World: Sora, even within his inner world, cannot see, and thus if his Zanpakuto spirit has an appearance, he is not aware of it. Its voice, however, is something he’s studied very closely. Whatever gender the spirit takes is not indicated within its voice, but what is clear is that the spirit speaks clearly, but softly and without any intense emotional inflection, not too far from Sora himself. Personality wise, Tachi also comes across as a part of Sora’s soul that takes after his more neutral qualities, specifically his honesty and his pacifism. Disliking confrontation, the spirit, already quiet as it is, often goes dead silent during fights; even those with hollows.
As for the inner world… Sora’s blind. It is a dark void to him, and may actually be a dark void in reality, as his reiatsu perception based “sight” never seems to reveal anything other than further darkness. Perhaps this is an indication that his blindness is not something he is meant to overcome; Sora pays that idea no heed though.
Power: Sora’s power is quite simple; his hand-wraps can partially unravel and extend up to a length of fifty feet, and have a very powerful grip, capable of wrapping themselves around anything they touch, and are able to support (and throw around!) seemingly endless amounts of weight, with the only real constraint being Sora’s own physicals strength. This power has a variety of defensive and offensive capabilities, ranging from the ability to be used as a powerful whip to being utilized to restrain an opponent. Finally, in a manner that Sora imagines exists to compensate for his blindness, Sora's sense of touch actually extends through the hand-wraps, providing him with a helpful sensory ally. Origin: Sora was born a pure soul in the summer of 1771 to two parents, neither whose identity is known. Unfortunately, as if having no legal parentage wasn’t bad enough, he was completely blind from the moment he left the womb, never to know more than a world of darkness. Finally, to top off the shit-cake of a situation, neither of Sora’s parents were particularly fond of the idea of having a child. Thus, he would find himself alone, crying on the corner of a street with only a blanket and a wooden basket as protection from the ravenous world around him. The 80th East was a place where resources of any kind were short in supply, especially for somebody like Sora, who was born with spiritual energy and required needed food to survive. Regardless of whether it was “right or not”, nobody here wanted to have to deal with a child. Morals simply faded from the minds of most adults once you got this far out into the Rukongai. Alas, unnoticed and ignored, he slowly began to wither away, seemingly forgotten the moment he’d appeared.
But then, a savior appeared.
You see, in the worse Rukongai districts, children were often forced to group together and form makeshift families to protect themselves from the many dangers of the area; Sora was lucky enough to found by a member of one of these groups, who promptly took him back to his group’s home, an isolated clearing surrounding by massive trees which provided a form of natural shelter from the violent adult townsfolk. From here on out, Sora actually had a home. It wasn’t much, but it was something that allowed him to live a life that he would likely had never been able to live had he not been found on that street corner. His family was made up of four other children, two of whom were older, equatable to teenagers at the time of Sora’s introduction to the group. They were named Taka and Hiryu, respectively, and they would grow to become Sora’s “eldest brothers”, although they often had to play roles more like parents due to their ages. The other two kids were younger, albeit still older than Sora, approximately equatable to “tweens” if you would. Their names were Kaji and Aito, both of whom were also boys. They were much closer to Sora while he was growing up, to say the least. The family made do by stealing, often from old souls who were at the end of their time in this life. When they couldn’t do that, they would venture further into the Districts, sometimes going as far to ransack houses for food. None of the children felt good about it. After all, they all didn’t want to turn out like the adults around them, yet they stole from the old and infirm! What claim to being better people than the rest of them did they have? Needless to say, it was a conflicting experience, especially for the young Sora, who was one of only two spiritually capable children in the group, and thus was one of the biggest resource-sinks in the family, requiring food to simply live.
There was of course, an advantage to him being spiritually capable though. Upon discovering that viewing only darkness was not a common experience, Sora found himself often disappointed in his inability to do things others could do easily, especially since he required a lot of support. So, you could imagine his surprise when despite being born totally blind, as he grew up, Sora began to feel things around him without touching them; other people, trees, animals, things like that. As a child who had always had to navigate based on his other four senses, which were nothing to scoff at due to the compensation made in exchange for his eyesight, having a fifth, seemingly superficial sense was an odd experience indeed. However, by the time he was old enough to truly understand why he was sensing things around him, these feelings turned into even sharper, more detailed feelings, which had turned into a sense of direction, and eventually, had turned into something that Sora could proudly (albeit barely), pass off as sight. While he couldn’t make out the details of a person’s physique, he could tell when another person was around him, and could sense the presence of solids in his general area, allowing him to navigate much more efficiently, especially in the more compact “downtown” areas of the East 80th.
The world was dark through his eyes, but when he used this newfound fifth sense, it became a mess of white splotches everywhere, with the occasional color or two popping in from somebody who he imagined had the same abilities he did. Like I said, it could barely be called sight, but Sora was unbelievably proud of it. And rightfully so; as he grew older, this sense grew even more defined, especially since Sora focused on honing it so intensely. In fact, his dedication to overcoming this disability of his often scared his siblings, simply because of how serious he took this pursuit. And, for a while, things started looking up. Alongside this growing spiritual sense as he came to know it came a handful of other unique abilities, including a body that, when trained properly, seemed to have limits that defied those of the normal people around him.
So yes, things were certainly looking up considering that Sora’s first days had been spent on a street curb.
Call To Action: Of course, in a world like the East 80th, such a positive time in somebody’s life could never last. Something had to go wrong, especially back here; it was simply as the universe willed it. So, when they robbed a man who happened to be the father of a notorious local bandit, things went South. The family hid out in their wooded home for as long as they could, but with bandits searching for them, they couldn’t stay hidden forever. And they didn’t. A month into their hiding, a bandit found the group’s home, seemingly by coincidence. This of course didn’t matter though, because upon realizing what he’d found, the man alerted all of his bandit brethren of the development. They were raided in the night that followed. Sora did what he could to fend them off, as did Hiryu, but despite their best efforts, the battle was not one that could lead to victory. Even worse, the true reason for the family’s discovery was horrifying upon its reveal. As Hiryu was about to kill the leader of the group of bandits, he found himself stabbed in the back, literally by none other than Taka, a man who Sora had respected and loved, and somebody who Hiryu considered his best friend. As Sora would later learn, Taka had betrayed the family’s location in exchange for protection from the inevitable slaughter, knowing that if the group was found, they would all die. To see such an atrocity unfold simply confirmed Sora’s suspicions that even the members of his family were not excluded from the moral corruption that the world he lived in created. Nobody could be trusted, not his brothers, not other people, and perhaps not even himself. After all, he’d stolen from those in need; what made him any different from these bandits?
It was this night, this revelation, that caused Sora’s life to change dramatically. Warding off as many bandits as he could in a furious assault fueled by the death of his older brother, he managed to make an escape, but not after watching one of his other brothers, Kaji, take a blade to the chest. With him was Aito, the only other survivor of the slaughter whom he still considered family. Unfortunately, Aito soon died of an illness, and once again, Sora was alone. Where would he go? Who could he run to? How would he live? He was a man, no, a boy, living in a world where he could trust nobody but needed somebody to trust. After almost a decade of life travelling from place to place, surviving on scraps and whatever he could kill that was worth eating, Sora decided he’d had enough of his pointless life. He needed a change, and that changed needed to involve getting out of this society of endless moral corruption, deception, and theft. He would do anything to become a good person, anything to fight the believe that nobody, not even him, could think about somebody other than themselves. Not only that, but he still had that gnawing desire to overcome his blindness and prove to the world, even if nobody cared, that he could be just as useful as somebody with eyesight. So, there was only one real option.
The Shin’o Academy. He’d seen Shinigami before, albeit rarely since he’d been living out in the backwater garbage district that was the East 80th, but still, he knew of them, and knew what they did. It seemed like an honorable enough profession, and they used spiritual energy to their advantage, which gave him a decent reason to figure out how to truly master his inborn abilities. He was accepted to the academy in the summer of 1851, the year he turned 80. He got in by the skin of his teeth, only making it due to his relatively large wells of natural spiritual energy and his supposedly advanced “Reiatsu Perception”, which is what they called his spiritual sense. Contrary to expectations, Sora thrived in the academy. He did well in all of his academic classes, always got good grades in his Kido, Hoho, and Zanjutsu classes, and completely excelled in both his Reiatsu Perception classes and his Hakuda classes. Sora personally believed that his affinity for Hakuda came from his already existent reliance on the sense of touch, something his peers begrudgingly agreed with upon seeing his name at the top of their classes. This, combined with his prodigious skills in Reiatsu Perception made Sora a force to be reckoned with in battle. Eventually, this skill with Hakuda began to turn into a style of Sora’s own, one which was based on a type of “Kung-Fu”, a Chinese-Based martial art that those on Earth had invented almost two thousand years ago. Sora’s variation on the “Shaolin” style of this Kung-Fu utilized the bone and skin-hardening training techniques employed by the fighters alongside various redirective moves and counter attacks to create a defensive, controlling style of Hakuda unique to Sora. However, even upon his graduation from the academy, something was still missing from his list of Shinigami abilities.
A Shikai. The first release of his Zanpakuto was something Sora had yet to achieve. This was… disappointing, to say the least. Having excelled in so many of his disciplines, Sora had expected communication with his Zanpakuto spirit to come easily. Alas, this wasn’t the case, and despite Sora’s most valiant attempts to even catch a glimpse of his inner world or Zanpakuto spirit, he graduated and was placed into a division without having achieved Shikai. Ironically having tried to escape subterfuge and deception, the higher-ups thought it best to place Sora in the Second Division, which happened to be the center for all espionage and covert operations in the Seireitei. This left something of a bad taste in his mouth, but Sora put up with it as frankly, he was just glad to have gotten this far. Blind shinigami were unbelievably rare so he’d be damned if he wasn’t proud of himself for at least having achieved this much! Of course, such pride didn’t equate to complacency. No, upon joining a Division, Sora began dedicating even more time to training his Reiatsu Perception and Hakuda skills. This continued over the course of almost 150 years until Sora decided once again that he’d had enough of it all; the deception and constant hiding simply didn’t fit him. In the fall of 2000, Sora requested a transfer to the first division, deciding upon it as he felt it was the best place for him to spread his ideals, seeing as it was the most politically active division. The Second could no longer be his home. He was already blind, so he couldn’t see any evil; why should he have to speak and hear it all day long instead?
It was right in that moment that everything clicked. Despite what I said about Sora’s intense training, the one thing he’d all but given up on was achieving communication with his Zanpakuto. He’d strained to see some glimmer of progress for years, all for naught, so you couldn’t blame him for putting down the sword. It was only on this day in the winter of 2001 that Sora realized what he’d been doing wrong. He’d spent years looking for something, trying to see something, when all he’d needed to do was just listen instead. His blindness was still a very real part of his existence, and this served as a reminder of just how true that was. He just needed to stop looking. And so he did. After a few months of slowly growing communication achieved through constant meditation, Sora made a breakthrough. The voice in his head finally had an identity. A name. It’s persona flourished and exploded into existence, no longer just an ever growing sound in the back of his mind. And on the day that this happened, only one phrase found itself lodged in his brain, or rather, in his soul; “Shinjitsu No Tachi”. The touch of truth. A perfectly fitting name for a Zanpakuto wielded by a man who’d come to live on his sense of touch, and his belief in infallible honesty, a belief forged from years spent living among those who didn’t even know what the word meant. Better yet was the fact that his new weapon was a pair of old leather hand wraps. It was funny; he supposed it was good not to forget where he’d come from, and figuratively wearing poverty on his hands seemed like a decent way to do that.
From then until now, 22 years later, Sora has spent his days trying to spread his ideals as best he can, all the while continuing to grow as a Shinigami. In these two decades, he’s focused almost solely on integrating his Shikai with his unique style of Hakuda, attempting to use the ensnaring properties of his Zanpakuto to manipulate the battlefield and his opponents in an even more effective manner.
Now an unseated officer in the First Division, Sora, for only the second time in his life, feels hopeful of his future.
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jul 19, 2018 0:24:48 GMT -5
A binding spell. How unusually... tame. Kazuto could only assume it was a change in protocol from the once considered tried-and-true "kill them until they die" method that the Seireitei had applied to those they had called "Vaizards". How silly, this idea of being "corrupted". Such beings were creations of their own will. While a soul could only develop an inner hollow if it acted upon an opportunity to do so, it was certainly the souls own doing. Some people just didn't have it in them; why punish those who did? Perhaps it was the constant anti-hollow attitude that radiated throughout the Seireitei's upper echelons of power that had caused the "Vaizard" to become targets. Maybe it was an amalgamation of things such as circumstance, or the often anti-Seireitei disposition held by individuals who fell into that category.
Either way, it seemed fitting that a word Kazuto had once willingly tried to distance himself from at a point in his life filled with self-loathing was now one he simply accepted as a part of his being at a point is his life where he felt completely and utterly at peace with himself. He truly had been misguided.
Now he had come to terms with his path; gone was the boy who hesitated, who refused to accept himself for who he was.
Breaking from his brief thoughts of self-introspection, Kazuto's eyes widened slightly as the rope of golden energy flew towards, and eventually, ensnared him, quickly wrapping itself around him as was intended. Shock would be an apt way to describe the expression on his face in the brief moment he appeared restrained.
That was, until the rope fell to the ground, having never really been touching Kazuto in the first place. In reality, he was standing behind one of the other, seemingly subordinate Shinigami, his rapier of a Zanpakuto protruding from the upper chest of the man in question. Withdrawing his blade from the man briskly and without any issue, he watched as the body in front of him crumpled, having sustained a penetrating blow directly through the heart. Wiping his somewhat unkempt hair out of his face to clear his vision and make himself seem at least a little bit presentable, Kazuto spoke calmly and with minimal emotion, replying to who he could only assume was the man in charge.
"Kazuto is fine. Last names are so formal, and that old alias those of the Seireitei hang onto is from long departed era of my life."
As he spoke, Kiri-Hana, whom he had continued to hold in front of him following his previous strike, began to glow a bright blue before taking her Shikāi form. The katana which now sat in his hands felt heavier than the rapier he had just seconds ago wielded, yet similar in almost every way. After all, they were really the same weapon. Kiri-Hana would remain balanced with Kazuto regardless of shape, size, or any other physical factor. His Zanpakuto was a pure extension of his soul, one which he had studied the use of for years in the hopes of the achieving the harmony with it that he now possessed.
The prospect of applying his self-introspective studies in a more practical situation excited him. Now smiling if ever so slightly, he rose his blade with his right hand, holding it parallel to his body in an invitation of an innocently violent nature, making this invitation clear through his voice at the same time.
"It's been five years since the last time we talked, so I suppose we're well overdue for another meeting. Whether you like it or not, I'm open for business; come at me, Seireitei."
Actions: -Utsusemi (Shunpo) Dodge to Evade the Sajo Sobaku (At GM and 120 Speed) -A straight thrust through the heart of one of your seven remaining companions at Dominant, causing a Lethal wound. (Master Zanjutsu, 30 Strength, plus the element of surprise due to my afterimage.) -No Cost Shikai Activation
Note: I know we reasoned the subordinates to all be within the 25-50 range as rank and file Shinigami post-plague. At 50 Rei, the highest any given stat could be would be 20, and assuming that defense was 20, and that all skills were at Journeyman (despite the likelihood that they'd be closer to Novice) there would be a 2 comparison tier difference for a Superior attack. However working in the element of surprise by comparing the Shini's Journeyman RP to my Grandmaster Utsusemi deception, I think we can agree that Dominant seems reasonable in this situation.
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jul 18, 2018 1:26:28 GMT -5
Kazuto had been out for a smoke when he'd felt the first of the spiritual pressures appear. He was in his gigai of course, as per the usual. Leaning back against the park bench upon which he sat, he took a deep breath through his mouth to clean out the taste of tobacco from his mouth, if only briefly.
Terrible habit, I should quit. Yes, you should.
You don't really want to though.
You're right. I don't. Not like it can do all that much damage to me anyway. Honestly I'm not sure if a gigai can get lung cancer. Maybe I'll ask Chie if I ever see her again.
Because that would go SO well.
...You're right. Again.
I'm always right.
He had nothing to say to that.
It had been five years since he'd last seen another Shinigami. Rather, five years since he'd talked to another Shinigami. Today, Kazuto was almost entirely sure that was going to change. Genki Ogawa, a relatively unskilled but powerful man, had been able to find him in his gigai so long ago, so it stood to reason that the fifteen spiritual pressures he could feel closing in on his location right now were capable of the same feat. Out of the five, only one posed a minute threat, but still, it was shocking that after five completely quiet years, the Seireitei appeared to be showing up in full force to catch him.
Maybe it had something to do with the plague Fionn had mentioned a few months ago. Speculation was all such claims were, but still, it didn't seem farfetched considering the general decline in the Shinigami population across the world. Regardless, facts were facts; multiple Shinigami spiritual signatures were approaching his location. Why didn't matter. Sighing, Kazuto snuffed his cigarette and tossed its remainder onto the nearby ashtray built into a garbage can. Following this, he quickly left his gigai, the false body slumping forward upon losing the soul I usually contained.
He then closed his eyes, focusing on the first of the many energy signatures. Through this procedure, Kazuto "locked on" to the being. Had it been five years ago, he'd have worried about what he was about to do; whether the target he'd just honed in on had a family, or was a genuinely nice person. Petty things like that. Life had taught him many lessons since then, the first of which was simple.
When defending yourself, and when killing in general, you had to forget about sentimentality and focus only on the job at hand.
With this in mind, Kazuto fired the first of many Bala to come with nothing more than instinct as his motive, and nothing more than a breath as his incantation. Within a split second of the initial flash of spiritual energy, he no longer felt the signature of his target. Closing his eyes once more, he repeated the process again and again, taking about approximately half of the Shinigami out of the picture. It was only then, after firing his eighth shot that he realized something. This is boring.
It was a terrifying thought in its own right, one which subverted any amount of growth he'd made as a person since his death, but still, the idea of a real fight excited him, if only mildly. One of the enemies appeared to be quite strong; as strong, if not stronger than him, in fact. Perhaps it was the last real embers of youth still burning within him, or maybe it was a flash of his old, somewhat psychopathic self making an appearance. Either way, Kazuto didn't really mind. Drawing Kiri-Hana without releasing her, he simply waited as the remainder of the shinigami closed in upon his location gradually, surely now aware of his presence following his little rampage.
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 28, 2018 23:12:35 GMT -5
So, I'm on a holiday with Emily ( Aiko Kohaku ) and my family in the wonderful land of Ottawa, Canada, to spend time with even more family as well as various hometown friends. At least for me, this means I will be replying a good bit slower due to a lack of constant internet access (time spent up at our cottage, etc.), as well as the fact that I'll generally be occupied with family events. This isn't an absence or a "going" post, really, but just a notice that posts will be slower than my machine-gun pace that existed until a few days ago. I can't say anything for Em, albeit she hasn't posted anything since she reactivated to my knowledge, but you should probably expect more of the same from her for now at least.
Of course, I could totally be wrong, in which case you are permitted to quote me.
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 21, 2018 0:21:31 GMT -5
The dad thing was relatable, to say the least. Perhaps not so much in the "he did terrible things" department, but the alcohol... yeah, that had been an issue. Kazuto had grown up largely parenting himself because of his father's reliance on alcohol, actually. It all started when his mother died, and in a sense, ended there too. There was very little development between the two remaining men of the household from then on. The elder Kirigaya kept his distance and remained a null influence on Kazuto's early years in double digits, too lost in his own grief. Kazuto, dealing with the loss in his own way, hadn't really cared that the man wasn't making an effort as a parent anymore. He'd needed space for himself as well, if he was being honest.
On top of all that, as terrible a thing as it was to say, he'd always loved his mother more than his father. She had understood him, she had guided him, she was his compass in the all too confusing world he was born into, and now she was gone. It was hard to deal with, to say the least. Hell, his dad could barely see Hollows and any real spiritual phenomena, much less do anything about them. Put simply, the man couldn't really parent Kazuto because their worlds were millions of miles apart from each other. One of them had to fend off giant beasts who hungered for his soul, and the other was, for lack a better term, nearly a "normal" human.
So yeah, he understood the dad thing. Following his brief musings, Kazuto figured it might be a good idea to make this clear to Fionn. His tone dropping to a more solemn one, the words left his mouth quickly but with impact, fitting in to the flow of the conversation perfectly.
"Yeah, I feel you on the drinking dad thing. After mom... died, he stopped really being a dad, although he'd never been the most proactive guy in the first place. I was closer to her anyway; she was the one who taught me all about being a Quin-... about being a spiritually aware person."
Okay, perhaps "perfectly" was a bit too strong of a term. After all, he had stuttered and corrected himself upon mentioning his own Quincy heritage. He wasn't sure how to describe the contrast between being a Shinigami now and having technically been a Quincy in his human life, even to himself, much less the man in front of him. Maybe it was some childish worry of being "embarrassed", or perhaps it was just a detail he wasn't comfortable sharing. Either way, he'd stopped himself clumsily, and could only hope the man didn't bring it up.
For now, the coast appeared to be clear. Fionn was still fixated on Kazuto's earlier question. It was only upon the man's final answer to the question that he found himself once again intrigued, and frankly a bit worried. At the mention of "hitching a ride" to Hueco Mundo, he had to stifle a snicker. It simply wasn't something that was done.
"So the Hollows do have a new queen. Interesting. You know, as somebody who's been to Hueco Mundo and left with a good few scars, external or otherwise, I feel like I should tell you to proceed with caution. It's incredibly dangerous, and no offense-"
He quickly scanned the orange haired man both visually and spiritually.
"-but there are plenty of things who'll be out to kill you, and will be fully capable of doing so. To put things in perspective for you, let me give you a demonstration."
Kazuto quickly slipped out of his Gigai, making sure to at least slightly suppress his full shinigami body's power so as not to knock the Quincy out cold.
"With as much power as I have now, assuming that the Queen and her Espada are up to par with previous examples, I'd probably be killed by the Segunda or Primera. The Tercera woluld be a tough bet, even for me."
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 20, 2018 2:18:15 GMT -5
The man's comments about life as a Quincy and his opinion on their duty were quickly catalogued by Kazuto's brain, but they were nigh-instantaneously overshadowed by a far more important development.
Dirty Little Secret? The All-American Rejects? Oh god, this song, or hell, this band. Kazuto remembered the year the song came out all too well. It was playing on every radio station all the time throughout the summer of 2005, and for lack of a better word, he'd loved it. In fact, five years ago, when he'd started (and continued to this day) to learn the guitar, among the first songs he learned was Gives You Hell, another "classic" from the Rejects. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same things about his feelings for their earlier work nowadays. He had certainly matured, and while his music taste still had its roots in punk and its pop-influenced variants, you couldn't blame him if teenybopper 2000s' songs had largely lost their appeal to him at 29.
With the atmosphere largely having changed into to a friendlier one on both ends from what he'd observed, you could imagine that Kazuto made his opinions on the song clear alongside a smile and a quick laugh.
"The Rejects? Ugh, that's an unsavory throwback. Dig the genre; not so much this sect of it. Damn though, were you even alive when this song was big? How old are you anyway? Twenty, maybe twenty-five?"
To be fair, he didn't actually know how old Fionn was; if anything, the teasing was a decent excuse to find that out. On top of that, even though this song wasn't exactly his favorite, Kazuto admittedly did find his head slowly banging along with the rhythm of the chorus as his lips silently mimed the lyrics in an almost terrifyingly rehearsed fashion. Why he still knew them, he couldn't tell you, but it was certainly a tad funny.
After the man opened the small fridge, Kazuto's focus finally shifted from the song quite quickly. His head turning over his right shoulder to gaze over into the contents of the now open container behind him: as Fionn had said, there were a variety of drinks inside the cooled space, many of which looked very refreshing. At first, he considered replying by asking for a beer or whiskey... but then he remembered his most prominent experiences with alcohol; both had led to anal sex of some kind.
Those were fun times, weren't they?
Once again, I find myself agreeing with you.
...I think I'm going to stick to soda.
And so that's what he said, following a quick gulp thrown in for dramatic effect.
"Could I just have a can of Coke, please? I'm not a huge fan of alcohol... kind of a lightweight if I'm being honest, which is really quite odd. I'm a ghost of sorts, so you wouldn't expect physical substances like alcohol to have such a profound effect on me, but hey, the more you know I guess."
Well, it was at least part of the truth. While he waited for the Quincy's response to his request, Kazuto took some time to ask another question. Situation defused or otherwise, this Fionn character was still quite an unknown element. His tone returning to one of mild inquisition, Kazuto fired his question away with surprisingly minimal thinking on his part. He'd been preparing this one for a while.
"On the note of your interactions with all things spiritual; why do you think something is, as you say, 'brewing' behind the scenes? I know there was a plague of some sort in the Soul Society, so I would imagine nobody up there is in any shape to make major moves. Perhaps Hueco Mundo's monarchy has restored itself to it's former glory? Either way, since the invasion of the Seireitei five years ago, I haven't heard any news when it comes to the land of the Hollows. As for the Quincy, well, I suppose you'd probably know more on that front, wouldn't you? That is, of course, assuming that you are associated with the Order. They were right bastards when I was growing up, too much family drama. Pure blood this, half blood that, it was all a load of bullshit. I'm glad my mother kept me away from all of that."
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 19, 2018 21:01:25 GMT -5
"Shut the hell up, you beast!"
He was a ghost, his screams inaudible to any of the mundane humans that walked on the street below him, yet he was still wasting breath yelling at empty air. No, yelling at something inside of him. Or... no, not even that: yelling at himself, apparently, if Tokiyo Fujikagi could be trusted. No, that wasn't right. It couldn't be.
He’d just been wounded and absorbed this thing into his body; he was still different. He was still a good person with good intentions. Those who were in power had wronged him; he had done no wrong, obviously.
The thing's name was like an echo. A filthy, unbearably disgusting echo. It was an echo that had been with him since his encounter with Tokiyo only hours ago, and much like an old alarm clock, wouldn't stop making its annoying, earsplitting noise. He knew it was there, knew what it was, and even knew, for once, what it represented, but of course, could do nothing about it. Yeah, so maybe "it" was a part of him, but he wouldn't let that control his actions. He wouldn't let "it" embody him. He could still live, still control himself; he was still Kirito, right?
Yeah, sure. No, what he'd just lived through was proof of anything but that. He hadn’t even been able to give reason to his own death when given the opportunity; he was weak. A pitiful heap of garbage stuck with a monster inside of him; a foreign, evil force that had motivated him to do terrible things. Worse, his superiors had blamed HIM! How could they blame him for doing what he had done? On top of that, what was wrong with it? Surely they would see that they had made a mistake. Surely they would understand that his intentions were noble, and that this beast he had come to absorb was a wound of honor, not a consequence… right?
He was confused, broken, and unsure of where to go.
Was he just lying to himself? Was this thing simply a part of him now, or was he a different being from the Hollow? Was it separate from his psyche, or just a part of his mind that had just been waiting to be exploited?
Was this his fault?
He needed somebody, something to blame this on; he couldn’t bear the idea that this monster was a result of his failures… that it was completely his own creation.
Glaring up at the sky, hoping that the Soul Society could be found where mortals imagined Heaven to be, Kirito screamed at the top of his lungs, desperately looking for an answer to his problem, internally or otherwise.
“THIS IS YOUR FAULT! OGAWA, MINAMOTO, THE WHOLE LOT OF YOU! YOU SIMPLY DON’T UNDERSTAND! YOU HAVE NO CLUE WHAT SACRIFICES I'VE MADE FOR THE SOUL SOCIETY! I DID THE RIGHT THING; I’VE MADE NO MISTAKES! YOU ARE THE ONES WHO MADE THE MISTAKE! YOU ARE THE ONLY REASON I'M DEALING WITH THIS MONSTER!”
He refused to believe that he, Kirito, had done anything wrong. It simply wasn't possible; he was a warrior of justice! He upheld what was right! He killed only when necessary; never to satisfy his own desires. That was right, wasn't it? Yes, yes, of course it was... he should stop doubting himself. He was never wrong. There was no other option to him; only the right decision and the guts to make it. Of course, perfect or otherwise, even heroes needed to breathe.
Wheezing, he floating down and collapsed upon the roof of a high rise building. Maybe yelling wasn't the best idea, point proving or otherwise. After catching his breath, the voice returned, repeating its name over and over again until Kirito interrupted its little broadcast with his own little inner pep talk.
Stay in control, stay in control, stay in control!
This is my body; it is foreign.
And then silence.
A minute passed.
Then, finally, upon the third minute's passing, a voice called out, responding to Kirito's own mental statement.
Until the day that I die, you foul creature.
Kirito meant those words more than anything. He would never live to see a day where this monster was a part of him; a day where he acknowledged it as an extension of himself. No, that day would never come. As for Kazuto Kirigaya... well, that was a different story.
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 19, 2018 18:44:48 GMT -5
Kazuto could only manage a polite smile in response to the man's reference to his time with the Yakuza. He hadn't enjoyed it, but he supposed it had led to him meeting some people, and perhaps did effect his overall view on his place in the world, if only slightly. No, it was really the people who he'd met in his work that had done that.
You two agreeing on something for once? That's new.
Yes, the blonde haired Arrancar had been quite the source of confusion and, admittedly, growth for his mind, to say the least.
"When word gets around of the spiritual miracle healer in town, the once friendly religious folk are oh so quick to grab their pitchforks. Witch hunts and all that."
Kazuto laughed after hearing Fionn's jab at religious fanatics, his smile remaining steadfast upon his face. Yes, he supposed that self-proclaimed prophets and their followers could get a bit irritated upon seeing anything outside their limited range of acceptance. Trying to manage a quick remark before Fionn continued, Kazuto hoped that the lighter take on the situation was a bit less intimidating for the Quincy.
"And I thought you said we were on the wrong side of the Pacific for lynchings."
Continuing to listen to what Fionn had to say following his earlier remark, he found himself ever more interested in the man's story. A missing father? A suspicion that something large was brewing between the various realms of the spiritual world? While he couldn't confirm the man's suspicions himself, Kazuto was certainly intrigued by the possibility of a major spiritual phenomenon. On top of that, this boy's quest for his father seemed a tad too noble for somebody motivated by money, so long as it was what it appeared to be.
Then he caught it; the little spark in the Quincy's eyes. Kazuto had possessed that spark once, and still hoped he did, albeit not with the ferocity he once had: that spark was ambition. It was the most powerful force in the world if left unchecked, and beyond that, among the most dangerous.
After briefly letting his mind wander off to ponder upon the various implications this could have, Kazuto found himself brought back to reality upon hearing Fionn's next question, this one a tad less personal, but ironically more interesting, at least to him. Carrying on using his upbeat tone from before in an attempt to match the Quincy's newfound verbal vigor, he replied with as much detail as he could without dumping info as he had when answering the last question.
"As nice as a trip to the Bahamas sounds, I'm in my element here. Lots of spiritualists around here to keep me interested, and still plenty of Hollows to kill. I may be currently unemployed, but I don't ever intend to retreat from the natural purpose of a Shinigami: cleansing Hollows is what we do. I spent my living years in Karakura too, so I suppose that's another aspect of it. It's funny actually, I just realized that I've been fighting Hollows my whole life. Growing up I spent time defending myself from them, and then when I died, I got a job that required that I fight them even more; an odd line of work, really."
Kazuto gave the man a knowing glance before finishing.
"But you know that, don't you; Quincies live to destroy Hollows. It is as much your role as it is that of a Shinigami."
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 19, 2018 4:26:41 GMT -5
You shouldn't trust him. He could be leading you into a trap, or distracting you so he can make an escape.
As little as I agree upon with this...being, the man did try to run; perhaps a bit more caution is warranted.
I'm in control of this situation, there's no need to be worried; especially on your end, Hana. You have helped me achieve victory for years; there is no reason to believe that you would fail me today, against this man if need be, although I sincerely hope this situation can be defused.
Those were the first thoughts (albeit from various parts of his mind) that ran through Kazuto's head as soon as he witnessed the man in front of him raise his arms in the air as a sign of surrender. People didn't usually give up that easily, but then, this man was quite intriguing, so it wasn't an unreasonable assumption to think that he would be a bit... different. That, and perhaps this person did not wish for a violent conflict, much like Kazuto; there was indeed no reason for bloodshed between these two men. Only conversation fueled by a steep, possibly unhealthy interest in the false priest's psyche.
So, after a brief moment of reflection on the situation, Kazuto's posture relaxed, his shoulders easing; he would follow this man and listen to what he had to say at face value. He nodded in response to the man's pointing at the doors to the left, acknowledging his statement surrounding comfort. Speaking briefly to clarify the meanings of his gesture, his tone was clear and straightforward in nature.
"To the back rooms it is. Lead the way."
And so the man did. Kazuto followed just behind the man, if only based on the slight chance he might make a run for it again. Frankly, he wasn't even sure what interested him so much about the guy. There were thousands of spiritualists living mundane lives in extraordinary ways for the sake of monetary gain, so why did this one grab him so tightly?
As you've said; he's much like you once were.
He supposed the spirit was correct in its assumption. This man was very similar to Kazuto's younger self, and such a person was interesting to him, it was as simple as that. After their brief journey together came to an end, Kazuto found himself sitting directly across from the man on a couch as the false priest instantly began to answer all of the questions he had been asked just a few moments earlier, albeit with an almost frightened haste.
I hope I didn't come across as too imposing; I do sometimes regret having gotten as quiet as I am now. It makes me seem far less social.
Please, noise never suited you; you're at your best when you are in control of everything inside yourself, including that which is unnatural.
She certainly wasn't wrong. On another note, the man had said some interesting things already, including his name: Fionn MacGallagher. European, likely Irish or Scottish based on Kazuto's (admittedly limited) knowledge of European naming conventions. He was also a Quincy. Things were getting even more interesting. Waiting out Fionn's short speech, his eyes widened a tad when he heard the man's question. He supposed it was only fair that the Quincy was inquisitive, but still, Usotsuki was something of a private matter. Nonetheless, he would oblige. With a sigh, Kazuto's tone left its usually dry nature behind as he began to speak, this time sounding both intrigued and, for lack of a better term, friendly. Hopefully the tone shift didn't scare the man too much.
"Well Fionn, you'll find I'm actually quite aware of how much money rich families pay for good spiritualist services. I worked with the Yakuza for a short while; many of the men I dealt with were superstitious and rightfully so. Beyond that, I'm only 30, and my human life wasn't quite... 'mundane' either. I'm Kazuto Kirigaya, a Shinigami who lives on Earth." He extended his hand with one of his ever-rarer smiles. Kazuto then continued.
"To answer your question; Usotsuki, my Inner Hollow, is a result of a wound I received in Hueco Mundo from a very powerful Arrancar. I most nearly died from it, although I managed to duel the Hollow to a draw. As for my presence on Earth? While the Hollow is a factor, it is mostly my own mistakes that brought me here. For years I tried to rectify said mistakes by impressing my superiors in the Soul Society in the hopes of feeling fulfilled. Now, I do not hope to change my past, but only to lead a brighter future."
He paused, taking a breath and cracking a smile.
"Sorry, that was a lot. Anyway, what brought you to Karakura, Quincy? We're a long way from Ireland, you know."
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 18, 2018 2:33:39 GMT -5
Kazuto's eyes raised as soon as he heard the man's defensive tone. Had he been too aggressive with his previous words? He hadn't meant to come off that way; this man certainly did have some valid points, and he was thankful for that. It simply saddened him to see such excellent advice coming from somebody who was driven by such poor morals. Money? With a gift as powerful as spiritually endowed healing? There was so much good he could do, so much potential to not make the same mistakes Kazuto had five years ago.
Frankly, he was certain he would've been able to avoid killing anybody if he'd possessed an ability like this man's, as petty as it sounded.
Please, you enjoyed every scream and every curse spat in your direction. It fed your ego, and denying it only led you to confusion, to commit more acts of the like in the hopes of proving that you weren't as terrible people said you wer-
Another word and I'll start trying to purge you, I swear to God. You're a part of me; that doesn't mean I'll tolerate my worse side rearing up as if it's been given free reign. Never again; not like five years ago.
Well, hadn't he gotten off track? Letting out a quick breath as he took a moment to recompose himself after his little inner interaction, Kazuto brought his mental focus to the confrontation at hand once more. Observing the man's body language, he found himself noticing his eyes; specifically the fact that they were darting from place to place, looking for something.
Looking for an escape route, perhaps? Why does he think he needs to run?
Kazuto's prediction came true quite quickly. The man finished his earlier sentence and began to make a straight rush for an open back door, appearing to use some kind of Shunpo-esque technique. He was quite fast, to say the least. For a fraction of a fraction of a second, Kazuto even considered just letting him go based on the virtue of not really having any reason to pursue him other than to feed his hunger for knowledge about this strikingly wise albeit misguided man. That thought was dispelled quickly, and replaced with action. The man may have been moving quickly but Kazuto was faster. A burst of Shunpo from his feet insured that, as he appeared directly in front of the exit to the door, his foot kicking backwards upon landing and swiftly slamming it shut before the man could find a way to slip through and escape.
It's not wise to try and run from me; let's teach this man that.
Once again staring the ginger-haired man down, Kazuto began to speak, calmly once again, albeit with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"Why do you run? I don't want to hurt you; I'm not with the Shinigami you probably know of. In fact, I live in the mortal realm full-time, as per my own... 'decision'. So, once again I'll ask you, who are you?"
Post by Sora Shiryoku on Jun 17, 2018 18:54:58 GMT -5
Kazuto instantly sensed this "priest's" spiritual energy penetrate him, slapping himself internally for not having noticed that he was spiritually aware earlier in their meeting. His breath hitched as the man's tendrils entered him, becoming erratic. The sensation was foreign and somewhat terrifying, almost as if a swarm of insects was crawling through his mind. It was an invasion of his soul on the most personal level, and he immediately wanted it to stop. Yet, despite the less than excellent nature of what he was feeling, Kazuto couldn't bring himself to jerk back and yell, "No!". At least not yet.
He hadn't touched Hana, who had remained quiet and undisturbed by this man's intrusion. The man was at least trying to do something positive, or maybe just confirming some of his own suspicions towards Kazuto with his ability. Whatever it was exactly that he was doing, he couldn't be sure, but Kazuto knew it wasn't dangerous. At least to him, anyway.
As for this priest's safety? Well, he couldn't make any guarantees. Suddenly, Kazuto bore witness to the man's face reeling in fear of something; the man had come across Usotsuki. The hollow's reaction to the intruder was less than savory, as expected.
Ahh, I haven't seen a new face in quite some time. His energy looks simply delicious; especially since it belongs to a man who has already lied to you so much. He's only inviting me to feed on him as I fed on you for years; he's more like you than you can imagine.
He didn't lie about all of it. Everything this man has said was far from wrong, priest or otherwise. Leave him be. You have no control here, and no right to attack this man; not so long as you are a part of me.
Well aren't you no fun. Liars always taste the best, too.
Usotsuki wasn't entirely wrong. Kazuto now doubted this man was a priest, considering he hadn't met a Christian priest who believed in ghosts quite yet. Suddenly he found himself a bit less sure of the man's positive intentions. Deciding he'd had enough of this man's intrusions, Kazuto pulled his hand away just as the man did, both men having obviously noticed the flaws within each other. Kazuto's breath finally steadied, once again in sync with the man. Despite this, the supposed priest had begun to talk before he could muster words of his own.
"My son... you have some very serious wounds. Almost like some part of you is... Hollow."
Any suspicion of this man being a spiritualist had now been confirmed; it was clear what the man was referencing, and it certainly hit close to home. Taking a deep breath Kazuto began his own reply as he stood up, closing his eyes to help steady his voice, which was caught somewhere between contempt directed at the man's intrusion and relief that the man understood his struggle on some level.
"I should've known I wouldn't end up with a normal guy talking to me about my problems. You're not wrong. I tried to reject that part of me for a long time, but that just made it worse; since then, I've come to accept that there are things I've done with consequences that won't ever be changed. That personified emptiness is a result of those mistakes."
Kazuto sighed, then opened the door to the confessional and walked around to the other side of the booth, also opening the door there. He stared at the orange-haired man who sat where a priest should have been, and took another breath before speaking, this time more seriously, albeit a tad quickly.
"Regardless of my problems though, lets talk about you a little? Who are you and what did you try to do while inside me? Are you even a priest, or are you just trying to get your fix helping people? I'm not angry, just confused; I've never met another man who was trying so hard to blame his actions, good or bad, on some false persona."
See, he's not so unlike you after all.
Maybe that was so, but either way, Kazuto wanted answers, and he wanted them right this instant.
Welcome to Bleach Gotei, an alternate universe Bleach RP!