This entry wasn't as quite fail, dating back from September to Februrary 2010, this thread was my second shot into the world of Bleach RPing. First (and last) romantic installment I ever did (Ulquihime), my first fight scene, and the first time that I ever felt unsure in a character's point of view (not shown). I'm terrible at Orihime's character. Don't ever expect me to write her character on here. Ever.
If you're wondering why the timeline seems funky, it's that the pot revolved around the 'Rescue Squad' holding back a full year before going into Hueco Mundo. (And no one thought of that in canon, why?)
In other news this thread is the earliest prototype for what is now Adversus Solem ne Loquitor.
World of the Living, Karakura town, undisclosed location, Sat. 4 P.M.
He gasped loudly, his breath rushing in and out of his lungs in uneven intervals rattling his lean muscular frame to his very bones. His eyes narrowed in frustration as the sweat dripped from his forehead and into his amber-brown eyes. Damn, almost had it. . .
"Again, Kurosaki." came a mildly amused voice from the shadows the abandoned warehouse cast into its interior. "I want that mask on your face for at least ten more minutes. You've already mastered that hollow of yours. You've got no excuse to be slacking off on this." Ichigo bit back the retort that longed to slip off his ever sharp tongue of his, arguing about the subject was going to get him nowhere closer to achieving that faraway goal.
Uttering a short incoherent roar for the sake of venting hours of pent up frustration he brought his hand to the right side of his face in a clearly practiced motion, his fingers half-curled into a talon-like fist before pulling down in a sharp slashing movement. The familiar pulse of darkly tainted aura flickered around him in black-red tendrils the skeletal bone white mask forming around his fingers and onto his face, the blood red patterns mimicking the path his fingers had traced and his eyes gold on black behind the narrow eye sockets. With a swirl of black and orange he slipped into a shunpo reappearing behind his sparring partner with a bone-jarring clash as the pitch black blade of his Bankai smashed into the former Shinigami's zanpaktou.
"Nice recovery, very fast." Shinji smirked, a taunt rather than a token of congratulatory praise, "But 'cha gonna have ta be faster than tha'" He shunpoed out of the interlock of their blades giving his sword an almost lazy flick, reappearing at the opposite end of the arena. "No what 'cha gonna do? Humor me." Ichigo answered with a warbled, echoing yell at the slight.
"Getsuga Tenshou!"
Shinji smirked at the angered backlash, still too immature, still too green. The crescent-shaped red tinged wave of energy cut through air hissing slightly as it burned through the dust the mock fight had kicked up. With a small "tch" of mingling amusement and disappointment before shunpoing last moment, the wall of energy smashing into the wall that previously stood behind him. Ichigo gave a strangled cough in a vain attempt to clear the dust that had settled in the back of his throat, glaring through the gritty cloud trying to discern his sparring partner through the chaos.
"Idiot. You nearly blew a hole in the wall."
"Wha-?" He turned his head over his shoulder to see Shinji glaring at him, the tip of his blade resting between his undefended shoulder blades.
"You died. I win, I think." he said with an unnecessary gesture towards his sword. "Pulling a risky move like that, loosing your head to a small insult, not watching your back, you get a D- for today's lesson. Go home class is done for today, come back when you're ready to learn."
As if on cue the mask cracked, unnaturally loud in the still silence, pieces falling with a soft clattering to the cement floors.
"Fine. Expect to see an improvement then."
"I'll be waiting."
His Bankai dissipated with a current of unfelt wind as he made his way toward his body, still mulling over his idiotic mistakes, elementary fumbles. But he made no, word against Shinji's teachings; it was this or nothing. He slipped back into his body as naturally as he would a jacket, the idea had long since fazed him after so many forcible exits. But then again hadn't he been forced into the training by Shinji himself, terrified with the idea of being taken over body and soul by his hollow? Hadn't he been against it, declaring the he was not in fact part of the Vizored army, but a true shinigami? Then again he wasn't fully considered that either, him a human, shinigami, hollow hybrid. Different, no real classification. The only real deal he had made for this was his vow to protect, something that was now being put to the test yet again.
It had been a year, a full year since Orihime had been taken into the realm of hollows. A full year since the Soul Society had banned the entering of any shinigami, substitute or not to crossing into those realms. He had no choice but to accept Shinji's offer. The Vizoreds had so far been successful in helping him subdue his inner hollow and draw the mask without losing control, but. . .
He stopped, noting with vague surprise that he was now outdoors, the late afternoon air brushing the hair from his eyes, the setting sun making itself know with its vibrant colors. He sighed and continued on, hands in his pockets, he had not been able to keep his mask in a solid, whole piece for any longer than 5 minutes. As if something was holding him back. . .
Want me t' fill yeh in with the details on tha' little problem, aibou?'
Ichigo's eyes narrowed slightly at the voice that echoed unbidden, unwanted through his mind, the sound that was so close to hated in its own right. The Vizords had told him the mastering was only meant to suppress the Hollow's control over his body and mind, not its echoing voice the echoed through his head like a perverse conscience. 'That you need to deal with on your own, that's not something we can help you through,' Shinji had told him when he had asked of it. But the actual problem had never came up until now, for the past year the echoing parody of his own voice had been silent in his head since its forced submission, but its parting warning had been forever etched into the back of his mind ever since: 'If you even show the slightest sign of weakness I won't hesitate in knocking you off and crushing your skull!'
The threat had never seemed real till now.
'What do you want?'
'Tch, how rude of ya. Been gone for a year, don'cha miss me?'
'No! Go away!'
Temper, temper! Tha' hasn't changed one bit hasn't it? Idiot, I saw that blunder of yours earlier. If tha' was a real fight we'd both be dead! I told you before I won't stand for that, We won't go down on account of your obvious mistakes!'
'My mistakes are my mistakes. And it's just me not 'we'.'
The hollow gave a low maniac chuckle that slightly rattled Ichigo's thoughts. 'What a riot, 'me'? You alone? What a joke! Whose power do you think you're us'n! Mine! Have you be'n wondern' why tha' mask won' stay on tha' stupid face of yours? It's because I won' let ya! What them, Vizords have been teachn' yeh is not how to control and master me, it's to control me against my wishes! What you're doing is wresting my own power away from me, and I won' stand for that.'
'For good reason. To protect the others from you.'
The hollow laughed again, tauntingly this time, Did I ever directly say I'd hurt them? Tell me, did I EVER say that?'
'But-'
'Tell me, Ichigo. Answer me this, what is a hollow?'the hollow interrupted, cutting off his objection. The question itself puzzled him, he knew very well what a hollow was but he would never expect the question to come from that voice. His mind reeled backward to Rukia's explanation: 'A soul that has lost its heart, that feeds on the souls of the living and the dead, to fill its own empty existence.'
The hollow gave an exasperated huff, as if Ichigo had missed the whole point of the question, 'But do I ever seem to have the want to do that? No. All hollows, even me, even the hollows that live inside your vizord people, were once people. But they all see us as the lost of humanity shinigami label us as. They were all taught that from the beginning. Tell me Ichigo, who gave you the definition of what a hollow is?'
'Rukia did.'
'Rukia did. A shinigami, a shinigami that was taught by Soul Society of the lack of senseless humanity souls who become hollows receive when they lose their hearts, which she in turn passed to you, who directed it toward me for being what I am, the severed half of our soul. I was once part of you, Ichigo. And still am. I still retain your will to protect, your memories. It's no better than was goes around in the world outside, people hate each other out there because they're different; they live different lives from themselves and they can't understand that. Do hollows who were once good people while they lived have a choice to be what they are? There's no white and black Soul Society sees souls to be, Wholes and Hollows, Hollows and Shinigami, Quincy and Shimigami, Shinigami and Visoreds. We're different but does there really need to be hate for those differences?'
The Substitute badge shrieked in Ichigo's pocket rattling him to his senses, making him jump where he stood. 'I-'
'Think about it. . . Aibou.'