I do not own the Bleach or Soul Eater, nor do I intend to garner revenues from the use of their characters
Shinigami Chronicles
Act 1: Hollow Eater
Chapter 10: Breakout
The thing I miss most about her is her smile. Confident, caring, warm and firm. I should've known that it wouldn't work out. Hell, I guess I'd always known at the back of my mind. We didn't really have all that much in common. She was so staunch when it came to her values. Held to them no matter the situation, no matter the cost.
Me? Well, I can't say that I have the most reliable of moral compasses. At least it's not what tends to make me do things. What does? Dunno. Mostly, I do what feels right. It's easier that way. Sort of. Gets me in trouble sometimes. Okay, not just sometimes; most times. Guess that's what happens when you let your gut be your guide. A lot of fun messes.
Not that I didn't get into trouble when she had me at her side. No I still got into all sorts of mischief. She just always knew how to make the best of it. You see, she knew me better than anyone else. Knew what I wanted, what I needed. She understood that, because she knew who she was; And, that I wanted to be like her.
And for some reason she chose me as her partner. Her weapon of choice among so many others who would have gladly given themselves to her will. Still don't know what she saw in me. I'll probably never know. But, whatever the reason I was the one that she picked. I was the one she forged into a death scythe. I was the weapon that her hands would guide and her heart would love (for awhile at least).
That was...is, what I need. Guidance. Direction. Something to move towards. Someone to be for.
Maka is the closest thing I have to that now. Someone to protect, and teach. Someone to love and care for. My daughter, every day becoming more and more like her mother. And every bit the unflinching altruist she was. Every day making me proud of her grit and determination.
She, like her mother, is my everything. She, like her mother, finds me reprehensible. And she, like her mother, will eventually leave me behind.
So... I guess you could see why I'd go against orders for her safety. Why I'd risk expulsion from Shibusen for her. I'm not even supposed to know any of what's going on right now. And if it weren't for Tsubaki I doubt I'd have gotten any information at all about Maka's condition. She'd apparently been looking into this for Black Star, although she hadn't said anything to him about it yet when she'd given me the info about where Maka was being quarantined and the name of the man in charge of her treatment.
His name is Ichigo. Apparently he's a member of Shibusen's alumni. I'd never heard of him though. Regardless he was the man Tsubaki said I should find if I wanted any answers.
That's why I went to the facility without sanction from Shinigami-sama. Looking back, I probably should have brought this up with him, but I wasn't quite thinking straight at the time. Having your daughter held in a secret quarantine facility, her soul sick with something you've never heard of can do that to a dad.
Here's hoping I can keep it together until I get my answers from whoever this Ichigo guy is.
[[[]]]
The sun hung high in the cloudless noon day sky, casting its scorching grin upon Blair and Spirit as they made their way down into the canyon where the Death's secret facility resided. Blair, still in cat form, sauntered along at a casual pace. Spirit followed suite, hands shoved in his pockets, projecting a nonchalant air with his visage and gait.
Or at least he was trying to. And perhaps if it were with anyone else, it might have worked.
"You know, don't you?" Blair asked turning an inquisitive eye toward the red-haired demon weapon.
Spirit stopped walking. "Never could fool you, could I?"
The cat witch halted as well, turning to face him. "You're an easy read." she favored him with a knowing smirk. "Especially when you're worried."
"My little girl is sick." Spirit replied darkly. "How could I not be worried?"
"She's in good hands." Blair stated simply as she sat on her haunches.
"You mean Ichigo's hands?" Spirit asked, narrowing his eyes in skepticism "You know him?"
"We've met." Blair answered
Spirit's frown deepened "What do you think of him?"
The cat witch's ears twitched. "I find him...entertaining." She smiled coyly "And his hair is especially comfortable.
"Huh." Spirit returned with a non-plussed expression. "That doesn't help me at all."
"If it bothers you that much." Blair replied. "You should go and see him yourself."
This particular statement procured an annoyed expression from Spirit. "Why do you think I'm here?"
"I thought you just liked my company." Blair purred, "Am I not good enough for you?"
Spirit shook his head bemusedly, "Blair." he replied simply "You're a cat."
To this Blair gave an amused mew before murmuring a quick incantation under her breath.
"Cat-witch." Blair replied as a floating pumpkin, just larger than herself, manifested in the air beside her. "Personally, I think that sweetens the deal a little." She smiled as she hopped onto the pumpkin "But what do I know about the human libido?" With this she uttered another incantation under her breath causing her orange charabanc to blaze off in the direction of the facility, "Try to keep up." she called back to her red-haired friend.
"Hey, wait up!" Spirit called after Blair as he stumbled into a run.
[[[]]]
Soul frowned as he tightened his grip on his meister's hand, the lids of his eyes echoing the fervent clutch of his fingers as they remained closed in deep concentration. Something was wrong. Throughout the entirety of the meditation session, the vibrancy of Maka's soul had been slowly waning. With the energy from the resuscitation machine draining out of her, the lessening of her soul presence was expected, and something he was prepared for. As long as he could get a fix on her wavelength, and keep himself in sync with it, he could use his own energy to help stabilize Maka's soul and assist her in maintaining the meditative state. According to Ichigo, as long as he kept this up, Maka wouldn't fall under the control of the hollow inside her. Just so long as he was able to stay in contact.
Keeping in contact with his partner when she was in a strained and weakened state was something he was quite familiar with, having done so in more than a few combat situations. Moreover he'd received training for such things in the form of "stress tests" he'd gone through in Nygus' classes. As Sid's demon weapon of choice, Nygus was more than just passingly familiar with all the different forms of interference that could be introduced into the equation of meister and weapon, and had found ways to reproduce most of them in an academic setting. Even with such training, it was only a matter of time before Maka's soul didn't have the energy left to register a wavelength with strength enough for Soul to grasp at and match. This fact, however unfortunate in its inevitable nature, was not the current issue that had him worried.
No, what had Soul worried was the fact that after waning at a constant rate for quite some time, the nature of Maka's wavelength had changed. Admittedly, the alteration was small, manifesting in the form of a few errant extra peaks in the patterns of his partner's soul that he'd never encountered before. It didn't change her soul enough to cause him to be unable to match the wavelength with his own, however, something in him knew that he had reason to worry.
Suddenly, a far more intense spike in Maka's soul pattern flared up, the frequency of her soul becoming an intense chaotic mess as the wavelengths began fluctuating wildly. Surprise and consternation colored the young demon weapon's attempts at matching Maka's frequencies as the young meister's soul ceased all pretenses of cooperation with her partner. Tinges of frustration filtered into Soul's efforts as he struggled ardently to find a pattern, any pattern, to match. Yet every frequency and wavelength composition that appeared to have any semblance of an orderly structure suddenly became nonsensical as soon as he turned his attention to it. It was as though they were explicitly avoiding his scrutiny.
As if to confirm his suppositions, the multitude of patterns unified into one pulsating singularity, which thereafter turned its attention upon Soul. The young demon weapon was overwhelmed by this sudden unification, his senses, currently at their peak awareness, being flooded by its concerted presence.
In his surprise, Soul lost track of his own state for a brief moment, and did not realize that the singularity was attempting to match his own soul's wavelength and frequency composition. By the time he had, the singularity had already incurred a soul resonance, taking control of Soul for the briefest of moments and pulling him deeper into the meditative state than was safe for him to go.
The young demon weapon mouthed an unspoken curse to himself as he found that he was leaving the realm of dark nothingness that lay behind his eyelids, for a familiar, if still unsettling, twisted realm of crimson and black elegance that he knew all too well.
[[[]]]
Framed by the mouth of the cavern that led to Death's facility, Spirit sighed to himself. After all the time he'd spent with her, he should've known better than to expect Blair to "wait up" when he asked her to.
"Guess I'm on my own." He muttered as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Can't be too much further from here." Slumping his shoulders a bit, the red-haired death scythe started on his way into the cavern, only to stop himself three steps in. He hadn't recognized it at first, thinking it was some ambient energy left over from Blair's magic pumpkin, but now he was certain of it. Someone else was nearby. Even knowing this, the red-head deathscythe was still caught off guard by the gregarious "Hello there!" that came from behind him.
Whirling about, the red-haired deathscythe found himself face to chest with a sand ridden shirt of a deep blue hue. Non-plussed confusion registered in the scythe's expression as he backed away, casting his gaze upward to see just what he'd run into.
"Oh I'm sorry," The giant apologized. He was at least a head and a half taller than Spirit, looking a bit scruffy in the face, due in no small part to the many sand granules that covered his unshaven cheeks and chin. What looked like a faded white denim duster was tied about his waist with a white flap hat and a bulky black walkie-talkie stuffed in its hanging pockets. Good natured mirth registered in the giant's hazel eyes as he chuckled. "I forget people have a hard time seeing me."
"Huh." Spirit replied as he gathered his composure. To be honest, he'd heard people say much stranger things about themselves. Most of those people were his shibusen peers. And considering how often those strange things were true (or were hiding something stranger than the original lie) Spirit decided not to worry about how a six and a half foot tall man could be "hard to see".
"Who are you?" Spirit asked bluntly
The giant grinned "Most people call me Vlad" He grasped the tied arms of his duster like a belt "They tell me it's easier to pronounce." Vlad proffered a querying palm. "And you are?"
"Spirit" The deathscythe replied "At least, that's what most people call me."
"Spirit isn't the name of a 'most people' person" Vlad said with a shake of the head. "If you are not one, you should probably call me Vladimir."
"Vlad isn't really a 'most people person's' sort of name either." Spirit said with a raised eyebrow. "But, I don't have another name for you to call me, so…." He shrugged "I hope you don't mind if I just call you Vlad."
"I don't mind." Vlad replied "You seem to prefer being a 'most people' person yourself, so it is no slight to me."
Spirit smiled amusedly "Alright." He gave Vlad a sidelong look of appraisal "So, is there a reason a 'most people' person like you would be out here in Death Valley?"
"I am looking for someone" Vlad answered
Spirit's expression dampened "In the middle of the desert?"
"It is strange yes?" Vlad replied with a nod. "Then again, I am told the one I'm looking for is not what most call normal."
Spirit managed to hide signs of the warning flag that went up in his mind as soon as Vlad made that statement. Whoever this man was looking for couldn't lead be anything good if the search brought him to one of Shinigami's quarantine facilities. It would probably be a good idea to find out just who it was and why. Suffice it to say, if the who happened to be Maka, more than just words would be had between the red haired scythe and the wayward giant. Spirit kept a cool casual expression as Vlad continued.
"Maybe you can help me" Vlad said as he fumbled about the pockets of his waist tied duster for something. "Though no one has so far." He grinned triumphantly as he found what he'd been searching for: a worn out old photo that had clearly been folded and stuffed into pockets and bags many, many times over.
Even with the folds and wrinkles, Spirit could just make out the image of a stern faced orange haired man, who, from the looks of the photo, didn't like having his picture taken.
"His name is Ichigo" Vlad stated as he handed the photo to Spirit. "Have you seen him?"
Spirit managed to keep his expression from darkening as he examined the photo. He was relieved that it wasn't his daughter in the picture, but having her teacher be the target of a probable criminal didn't exactly comfort the red-haired scythe.
"So?" Vlad asked with a curious expression.
"No, I haven't seen him" Spirit answered. He paused, focusing on the picture for a moment before handing it back to the giant. "Why do you need to find this guy?" he let his expression register a form of interested curiosity, careful not to allow any of his worry seep through. "Something special about him?"
"He is not normal." Vlad answered simply. "At least as far as I can tell." He smiled "The one who asked me to find him does not keep the company of 'most people' persons you see." Vlad crossed his arms, nodding in self-affirmation "Her friends are strange if they are not dead, and stranger if they are."
Spirit managed to hide the frown that was tugging at the edge of his lips. That pretty much described everyone he knew both friend and foe, although the smart money would be on Arachne. Question was, why would she be after this Ichigo character?
"Friend to the dead and the abnormal eh?" Spirit started "Is Ichigo a friend of hers?" He added an interested smirk for good measure. "Or is he dead?"
"I suppose we will be finding out when we meet him yes?" Vlad replied with a shrug "You want to help?"
Spirit blinked. That wasn't quite the offer he was expecting. Luckily, his wariness didn't come through in his expression, as the red-haired scythe put forth a good natured smile that was at least in part genuine. After all, if Vlad did in fact turn out to be a threat, the wayward giant would have nowhere to run to if the time came for Spirit to deal with him.
"Sure" Spirit answered simply.
[[[]]]
Tiles of red and black sprawled before Soul, stretching far beyond the ill defined ramparts of his soulscape. These walls of deep black were only defined by the polished marble stairwells that encircled the dark mezzanine in which the demon weapon stood. They housed innumerable images of friends, foes, family members, and many, many memories, arranged in no specific order. The mezzanine itself was sparsely furnished containing two posh crimson seats of the cushioned sort, set opposite each other within the shadow of the stairwell that framed the room. A coffee table sat between them, upon whose center sat an old fashioned gramophone record player, filling the lonely shadow mansion with smooth, nostalgic jazz on strings and piano. A variant of one of Mancini's themes if Soul recognized it correctly.
Towards the center of the black crimson mezzanine, standing between four pearl white pillars of Grecian architectural appearance, stood a well polished matte black baby grand piano, upon whose stool sat a little red goblin to whom Soul was quite well acquainted. He was well dressed, sporting a pinstripe black and red tuxedo, identical to the one that Soul himself was wearing at the moment.
"Now's really not the time for this Red" Soul muttered as he made his way towards the little goblin, a disenchanted frown belaying his annoyance. "Maka needs me right now. We can do this some other time."
The little goblin shook his head chidingly "No, I don't think we can." he crossed his arms with a small knowing chuckle "But, if you'd like for her soul to fall apart completely, then please, don't mind me." Red grinned derisively "Go back to doing whatever it was you were trying to do. I'm sure it was working wonders."
Soul's frown deepened as he stopped just in front of the stool upon which Red was perched. The young demon weapon's eyes narrowed incredulously. "What are you after, Red?"
"Same thing you are." the little goblin replied simply as he patted the empty space beside him on the piano stool. "I am born of you after all."
The background music from the gramophone stopped as the young demon weapon ponderously slid his hands into his pockets, disdain very apparent in his expression as he stalked his way over to Red's side.
"All right Red." Guarded vigilance colored his words as Soul let his eyes rest on the piano's ivory keys. "What do you want me to do?"
"Look inside" Red answered
The edge of Soul's lips curled in annoyance as he turned to glare at Red, only to find that there was no Red to look upon. No he was standing beside the piano now, imitating Soul's slouching pocketed stance. The little goblin smiled, having already propped open the baby grand's lid.
Uncertain of what he could expect to find within the instrument's elegantly polished frame, Soul was less than thrilled at the idea of following the crimson imp's instructions. He leaned forward with a great deal of cautious hesitation, steeling himself for whatever surprises lay in wait.
Nothing jumped out at him as immediately odd as he peered at the piano's wheat colored inner housing. He swept his inspecting gaze across arrays of hammers that rested quietly upon taut strings of steel. There was nary a scratch to be found on the soundboard that lay beneath those strings. Indeed, it seemed that everything inside of the baby grand's hard maple veneers were in pristine condition.
No, nothing looked out of place when Soul searched with his eyes. Then he listened.
There. Faintly lilting from strings of steel to reach his ears, a familiar sound, aloft in the otherwise noiseless ether, fought weakly for its own existence. A sound he knew he would never forget from the first time he'd heard it.
"Maka" he murmured as he pulled back from the piano.
"The strings are special today." Red said, now standing beside the young demon weapon, a devious smile occupying a lion's share of his face. "After all it's a rare chance for a musician to get to use someone else's soul as their instrument." Red's smile broadened. "And certainly not one that he knows this well."
Soul sat still for a brief moment, his expression unreadable as he let the implications of Red's statement sink in. "If I play her song, will it normalize her frequency?" he asked without turning to face the little goblin at his side. "Will it give her the cohesion to survive this?"
"Who knows? It might do that." Red replied with a shrug. "Or it might do something else entirely." The goblin shook his head. "The question is, do you have the time to worry about that?"
To this, Soul heaved a great sigh, letting his eyes once more rest on the keys of his baby grand. He sat silently for only a moment before raising his hands to the darkness above. He closed his eyes, reaching inward for his memories of Maka, preparing to evoke her essence in song.
So came the first chord and measure.
He started with her smile, innocent and bright, a two note chord in the key of G. He added two more notes to the chord, finding her eyes, confident and sincere. Then shifting into a purposeful tempo, he began laying out the foundation of Maka's studious resolve. Straight forward and simple, it played on underneath the equally straight-forward melody of her hopes, both pushing each other along, up and down the musical scales. As the melody continued, it grew in complexity, the chords forming a harmony that filled the overall body of the song.
During this metamorphosis the tempo of the song began to wander. Studious arpeggios slid down the scale into a more playful, yet mildly dissonant blues progression. The core rhythm of the song began to dance, ebbing and flowing with the whims of its performer.
Soul couldn't help but smile to himself as he led Maka's melody into a blues waltz. This was a part of the song that Maka had never heard. He'd refrained from playing it for her, since she wasn't much of a fan of jazz and he wasn't sure what she'd think of it being mixed with blues. Her soul didn't seem to have any complaints about it now though. Far from it, she felt like she was actually swaying to the music. His smile broadened.
Perhaps he should give her something to really make her move.
The tempo of the song rose, as Soul slid into more of a big band style. The rhythms became even more complex and energetic, as Soul let himself cut loose on the ivories, pounding out the original melody with a ravenous fervor he rarely ever showed to anyone, even his own meister. His chord progressions came alive, jumping from note to note as he described the Maka that he knew in harmonic chords and rhythms.
And as he bobbed and swayed with the music, he found, to his delight, that his audience was as enthralled as he was, moving and dancing as he did.
So enthralled was he, that he did not notice when he had left the key of G. Or that he hadn't settled into any other key for that matter. He didn't notice when his flowing harmonies had become choppy and terse. Nor did he notice when the frenzied dissonance had filtered its way into the song, turning his playful rhythms into something frantic and untamed. He didn't notice when he had stopped evoking the Maka he was trying to save, or when he had started invoking something else entirely.
He did not notice when he had lost control.
[[[]]]
Ichigo stood in front of the only exit to the cell in which Maka and Soul's joint meditation was taking place. He wore a glowering expression as he watched the two Shibusen students, arms crossed, awaiting the ultimate outcome of their struggle. He wasn't quite sure how much time had passed since the young meister and demon weapon had fully entered their trances. An hour? Maybe longer?
His frown deepened as he allowed his back to fall to the door behind him. So this was what it felt like to be on the other side, watching, waiting. Hoping for the best. Preparing for the worst. Knowing which of these was the more probable of the two. The fact that all he could do was look on as someone else faced the same inner demons that he had ground heavily on him.
No doubt this was how Isshin had felt when he had presided over Ichigo's joint sessions with Rukia, during the War of Masks. It was probably worse for Isshin. Especially since he was forced to consider the possibility of killing his eldest son. Loving father that he was, Isshin had reviled the option. Even in spite of countless warnings from Urahara, and, at times, requests from Ichigo himself, he would not slay his own son.
Perhaps that was his greatest mistake...
As the ex-shinigami allowed his head to lay upon the cold steel of the door, his train of thought was interrupted as he noticed something strange. Something lilting in the air. A quiet tune on the edge of his ability to hear.
This was the only warning Ichigo got before the first attack.
It came swiftly, in the form of a sonic blast that erupted from Soul's approximate location. This was enough to cause the ex-shinigami to fall forward from the door as cacophonous music tore into his gigai's skull.
Ichigo instinctively brought his hands to his ears, gritting his teeth in pain as he lead himself through the mental process of turning off his gigai's hearing capabilities. A useful trick he'd learned from Kon and had subsequently used to block out the mod soul whenever he got to be a bit too annoying to deal with. It had proven useful in the past, although he hadn't expected to need it here.
Ichigo regained his composure just long enough to catch sight of Maka as she stood with a large red and black scythe in her left hand and a small hatchet in her right. She cast a sidelong glance at the old swordsman, a self-satisfied smirk forming on her lips as she hucked the hatchet up towards the holding cell's window, its blade burying itself into the stone framing. Ichigo's eyes lingered on the weapon for a half-second before he turned his gaze back to the possessed meister, only to find that she was no longer there.
"What the hell?" Ichigo murmured as he rushed to where Maka had only just been standing, undoing the latch on his right armband in the process. He looked up to the cell window just in time to see the possessed meister grinning at him from the other side of its bars as she reached in and plucked her weapon from the window's stone framing.
"You're not getting away that easily" Ichigo growled as he manifested his blade and grasped it in both hands forcing energy out from his soul into it. He could feel the weapon grow warmer in his hands as he wreathed it in black crimson energy. This was no time for subtlety. If he was going to catch Maka before she got too far for him to track, he needed to catch her now. This was what the old swordsman thought as he stepped into a turning slash with his weapon, throwing all of his weight behind the swing as he leapt towards his target.
His weapon easily destroyed the cell windows' stone framing, its momentum quickly carrying Ichigo into the newly opened throughway. The old swordsman had only a scant few moments to notice that he had burst out of the side of the canyon wall in which the facility resided and was about to start a hundred meter plummet into the river that lay in the shadows of the canyon's depths. Scowling in disgruntled surprise, Ichigo followed the turn of his swing with his body, letting go of the blade with his left hand just in time to reach back and grab what remained of the holding cell wall.
Casting his eyes upwards, Ichigo caught sight of Maka as she vaulted her way up the canyon wall. Her hatchet dug its way into sandstone and shale as she used it to leap from outcropping to outcropping. She alternated between it and the red and black scythe with an impish sort of confidence.
"How'd you get up there so fast?" Ichigo growled as he pulled himself back into the holding cell. At the rate Maka was going, Ichigo would be hard pressed to keep up in a vertical climb. Drastic measures would have to be taken if he wanted to catch up to her. There was no telling how long it would take for him to find the possessed meister again if he lost her now. Or how much havoc she could wreak in that interim time. This was enough impetus for him to take a risk.
"I just hope no one important notices." Ichigo muttered as he unlatched the limiter band on his right arm. He could feel his soul expanding significantly as its energies began to flow more freely. Taking a centered meditative stance, the ex-reaper inhaled, convening that flow of energy into a semi-cohesive form to contain his consciousness. He then breathed out the energy on a long, full exhalation.
Now outside of his body in a state constrained only by the tether to the remainder of his soul, Ichigo willed his partial soul probe back out into the canyon, rising up above its walls to scour its plateaus. It took only a moment for him to catch sight of Maka, who was in the midst of hacking at the lock on Soul's beloved motorcycle with her hatchet. She didn't appear to be having too much luck with it. That is, until she spun into a slice with the red and black scythe, cleaving the lock in twain.
As the possessed meister hopped on the bike and revved its engines, Ichigo quickly reeled the probe back into his gigai, fishing his cell out of his pocket and speed dialing as soon as he was able.
"Sid." Ichigo started, as he rushed for the cell door "we've got a problem."
[[[]]]
"Hm?" Spirit murmured as the sound of rock being torn asunder reverberated into the cavern from the canyon outside. Turning his gaze towards the cavern's entrance, Spirit felt something familiar in that direction.
"Maka" he murmured as he focused his senses to try and get a bead on her location. Soul tracking wasn't his specialty, but as her fathering soul, he had an increased ability to notice when she was around. Although, something felt odd…
Vlad cocked his head at the sound of stone tumbling down the side of the canyon walls. "Interesting"
The giant turned a querying eye to Spirit. "What do you suppose that was?"
Spirit gave no answer, beginning to jog towards the cavern opening, his professional curiosity toward the wayward giant now the furthest thing from his mind. He strained his senses to ascertain what was unusual about the sense he was getting from what he was sure was his daughter's soul. No, not unusual. Wrong. Something was definitely wrong.
"I have to go." Spirit murmured as he unconsciously accelerated his steps, eventually breaking into a run. "My little girl needs me."
In moments, the red haired scythe was sprinting, and in moments soon after, he was gone.
"Hm" Vlad started with a bland expression "He is her father?" He fished the walkie-talkie out of his waist tied jacket's pocket. "I suppose that is good to know." The giant clicked the call button.
"Vlad here. I did not find Ichigo…As you say… Most probably he is involved…If Arachne does not know, she will soon…You will send others? ...Should I return to you? ...Understood. Vlad out."
With this the giant pocketed the walkie talkie and started on his way after the sprinting deathscythe. "No doubt, this will be becoming a long day."
[[[]]]
Notes from days long past
Animaology Report
Julian Deschamps
September 13, 2075
On the States of Riatsu
Animaology is the generalized study of the soul. Often referred to colloquially as "Soul Science" it encompasses the inception, growth, alteration and death of souls.
One of the first principles upon which much of soul science is based, is the idea that souls are comprised of energy. What follows from this theory is the idea that the base energies that comprise a soul can neither be created nor destroyed, only changed in form and state.
For this reason, several terms and definitions were created to catalogue the differing states that soul energy can take on. (It should be noted that while the energy of the soul is colloquially referred to as "Soul Energy" it was originally referred to as Anima, the latin term for life)
When this energy is in the body of a living being it takes the form of Riatsu. As the name suggests this terminology was coined in Japan's soul society as their techniques and sciences dealt mostly with signatured soul energy. The term Riatsu became the widespread form used by any who studied the soul when they referred to signatured soul energy. Riatsu specifically refers to soul energy that belongs to a spirit. It is characterized by the fact that the energy has a home frequency to which it will return if it is ever altered or removed from its controlling spirit. (For the sake of avoiding redundancy I will use the term "spirit" to refer to the controlling soul)
To describe the activity of the soul, several energy states were coined. Though there are many variants and combinations that appear, for Riatsu there are four states to which these energies usually adhere.
These four states are:
The Perpetuat State. (Stable Coloquially)
The Submissive State.
The Dormant State.
The Capricious State. (Unstable Coloquially)
The perpetuat state applies to riatsu that maintains an erratic but constant frequency pattern. This pattern, though somewhat variable and complex in nature, will generally be returned to if the soul is not under extensive duress. Riatsu of this type is easily controlled by the spirit to whom the energy belongs, is difficult to control by others and is inclined to stay near other like frequencied energies. It should be noted that due to the diversified nature of soul frequency patterns, the inadvertent transference of perpetuat riatsu between souls is a rarified occurrence to the point of only having been recorded thrice in the history of animaology.
The submissive state applies to riatsu that maintains a more stable and constant frequency, than the perpetuat state. Because of this, submissive state riatsu can be easily controlled by other spirits, although it still retains its inclination to stay near like frequencied energies. As the name suggests, the submissive state is generally caused through hypnosis and other forms of mental coercion. And while the spirit to whom the energies belong still retains the capacity to easily control its own energies, most spirits whose energies are in a submissive state tend to lose a significant amount of will power and self-cognizance, more than likely requiring impetus from other spirits to take any actions with regards to their own soul energy.
Dormant state riatsu has a significantly less pronounced frequency pattern than perpetuat and submissive state riatsu, exhibiting much more stable tendencies than either of the other two riatsu states. Unlike the perpetuat and submissive states, soul energy that is in the dormant state is not easily controlled by the spirit that the energies comprise or by other outside spirits who would attempt to command them. Most normal humans and semi-sentient beings possess souls whose energies are in the dormant state. It is specifically the humans who display special abilities such as telekinesis, clairvoyance, or other forms of soul sensitivity and, in rare cases, soul energy manipulation, that do not possess dormant riatsu, and are instead generally comprised of perpetuat riatsu.
The capricious state is the most volatile of the four riatsu states, with a highly variable frequency that rarely retains any form of constant pattern. This state of riatsu generally appears in damaged spirits, whom have had portions of their souls removed, heavily altered, or destabilized. It should be noted that spirits whose riatsu is in this state generally have a hard time controlling their own energies, in part because their very existence as an entity is unstable. That said, capricious state energy can change very erratically, and is easily the most versatile of the energy states when it comes to changing its patterns and behaviors.
It should be noted that these soul state designations were incepted during an age where closed souls like myself were fairly uncommon, and may not encompass all that there is to be known about the states of said closed souls. There is no doubt that there is much more to be divined in the coming centuries. It is this researcher's ardent desire to make those discoveries.
