Author Note: Well, onwards and upwards as they say. I'm really on fire with this shit for some reason. I'm having a blast and I haven't even hardly begun... thats a good sign. Enough of the setup, its time to start kicking things off a little bit. For this chapter and maybe parts of the next chapter, there will be scenes involving both the Eastern Soul Reapers, aka Shinigami, and the Western Soul Reapers, called Crusaders, but with an important note. Shinigami speak a form of Japanese, but Crusaders converse in an archaic mixture of several Romance languages as well as a hefty bit of Latin. There is a definite language barrier between the two sides here, but I'm not going to make one side speak in gibberish because that wouldn't be any fun for you, the readers. So for this chapter and other parts until a certain and very obvious plot point is reached (a translation device of some sort), anything said in Shinigami language will be regular text like "Normal", and anything said in Crusader language will be in "Bold", to differentiate between who is saying what, and more importantly who is understanding what. Do note that until the translation device is made, neither side can comprehend anything that is being said in the other's language, other than what they can infer from tone, facial expressions and postures. That said, prepare for some hilarity and some tension, as the chapters starts now...
xxxx
Soul Society, Sereitei, 8th Division Headquarters, January 13th, 8:10 am
Shunsui Kyoraku was a peaceful and sedentary man by nature, perfectly content to while away most days in indolent relaxation, a cup of fine sake in one hand, and a beautiful woman within arms reach of the other, even if said beautiful woman had a very definite "hands off" policy towards him, for reasons he pretended never to understand. He didn't so much hate the concept of work so much as he did the concept of effort... if work didn't take effort, he'd be glad to do it. He had the same approach to conflict and fighting... as long as he wasn't really expected or needed to put in actual effort towards winning a battle or affecting the outcome of a situation, he was happy. Which wasn't to say that he wouldn't put in effort when it was required, such as against the Espada, he just preferred not to. Life was too short, even for a Shinigami that could live for thousands of years, to waste time taking everything so seriously all the time.
Unfortunately, this was looking like it was shaping up to be one of those times where actual effort on his part was not only asked for, but actually necessary. Joushiro was on the warpath ever since the early morning emergency meeting, and Shunsui had to admit that he himself was feeling a little fired up as well. It wasn't like he had no idea about the horrors of war and conflict... he'd seen more than his share of both in the many centuries he'd been Captain of the 8th... the violence and the abuse Souls could inflict upon each other was nothing new or shocking to him. What was disturbing were the reports of outsiders of some sort being responsible. A new type of Hollow... that was no big deal. Renegade Shinigami of some sort? Been there, done that. Completely unknown outsiders, with a style of dress and look that even old Yama-jii didn't know about? That was a major concern. Especially if they were going to go around slaughtering townsfolk and butchering them like geese in a market for no good reason. That just wasn't done, not in the Soul Society anyway.
Dear Nanao had already commented this morning on his unusual display of focus and attention for his duties as a Captain, somewhich which she had even gone so far as to call "uncharacteristic" of him. She was in a grouchier than usual mood for some reason. Perhaps it was her time of the month, though to be fair, Nanao was mean to him regardless of the time of the month. Eh, he didn't mind. He needed a strong female presence in his life, because he never felt much need to listen to anyone else, except Yama-jii on occasion, if Nanao wasn't there to tantalize and smack him, he really would never get any work done. So he'd bitten back his by now favorite retort that the only thing uncharacteristic of him would be to have a characteristic in the first place, and merely gave her a level look and said "It's for Joushiro." which was the end of that particular tete-a-tete.
His friend really loved kids, his Zanpakuto even appeared in his inner world as a pair of kids, and he was taking the news of the children's tortured deaths very poorly. He was getting so worked up about it that his illness was aggravated, and he'd already been remanded into Retsu's care for sedation and monitoring after he almost collapsed during his division's morning muster. Poor Joushiro, if there was ever a man who didn't deserve such a debilitating condition, it was him. Shunsui would have taken the disease into himself in a heartbeat if he could have... the idea of being pampered and waited on hand and foot by beautiful nurses most days was not exactly a nightmare of his after all. Though the coughing up blood part was kind of a drag, he would imagine. But because Joushiro was incapacitated by circumstances beyond his control, Shunsui was going to step up in his friend's stead and do his best to prosecute this situation with the same kind of focus and vitriol that Joushiro would have. And if Joushiro happened to foot the bill for thext few years of drunken parties out of gratefulness for this kind act, well, Shunsui would not argue with that.
Explaining the situation and reasoning for the sudden step back up to war footing to his own division had not been overly hard or stressful for him. By now, all but the freshest recruits knew better than to expect much in the way of details from him during one of his rare public addresses, he pretty much just told them that they were on war footing once more and that he was relying on them to do their best and standard motivational crap like that. If they wanted to learn what was going on, they could ask friends in other divisions or he would gently reveal details to his seated officers in a private gathering, with lots of strong drink, and let rumors and facts disseminate from there. It encouraged everyone to be much more sociable, rather than just relying on facts being handed to them. Shunsui loved socializing, and he wanted his subordinates to enjoy it too, so he gave them every opportunity to engage in it during business hours. It drove Nanao up the walls, but it was a very effective method of passive leadership, his favorite type of leadership.
His major tasks completed for the day, barely an hour after starting them, Shunsui located a nice jug of prime sake that Nanao had not managed to conceal or dispose of well enough and was preparing to decant and savor a few cups in order to get back into his usual swing of things when he was interrupted by a Hell Butterfly. It was one of the new ones, the ones that were black and orangey-yellow, instead of black and purpley-red, a new breed of the useful messenger insects created by Captain Mayuri in the wake of the Winter War. The orangey-yellow ones didn't have to touch their recipient to give their message, and they didn't do so via mind to mind communication, but rather functioned like portable loudspeakers and broadcast their message at varying volume to a wide area. This made them very hard to ignore, as well as more effective at giving wide scale orders to large groups at a time.
"EMERGENCY ALERT, EMERGENCY ALERT!" The insect blared, entirely too loud for this or any other time of day. "Kidou Corps has detected a surge of spiritual energy forming outside the North Sereitei gate, in Rukongai District 1. Potential unathorized Senkaimon gate being opened in Rukongai District 1. All non-tasked personnel and officers of 5th seat and above are ordered to deploy to the northern walls immediately, on a war footing! EMERGENC..." The insect splattered sadly against the far wall of his office, and Shunsui figured he might have playfully batted it just a bit too hard. At least it shut up.
"My, my..." He complained, standing up and dusting off his pink flowered kimono in annoyance. "How troublesome. Interrupting a man just as he's about to have a drink. These outsiders have no sense of manners." He perched his straw sunhat upon his head and began making his way sedately towards the northern wall. Wouldn't do to seem in a rush, couldn't have the rank and file thinking they were actually worried about this unplanned event. And besides, it was a beautiful day for a stroll...
xxxx
Soul Society, Sereitei, Northern Gate wall, 5 minutes later
"What the HELL kind of Senkaimon gate is THAT?" Renji Abarai, long serving Vice-Captain of 6th Division, commented with a cocked eye and a questioning sneer as he waved a hand at the spirit energy construct slowly taking form a few hundred yards away on the main thoroughfare leading up to the Sereitei's north gate complex. Zabimaru was already released into their shikai form, the oversized, toothed blade resting comfortingly across his shoulders. About half of his bravado was just Renji being Renji, but the rest was there to mask his own uncertainty and allay the misgivings of the unranked Shinigamithat clustered on the wall top around him, turning their thoughts towards derision rather than uncertainty. Hey, you didn't serve as a Vice-Captain under Byakuya Kuchiki for a few decades and not pick up a few worthwhile tactics for dealing with people!
Though it certainly wasn't a Senkaimon gate of any sort that he was used to seeing! It wasn't like the Garganta the Espada and Arrancar had used in the Winter War, no gaping rent in the fabric of reality, like some huge had just unzipped a portion of the world like it was a jacket, but it bore little to no resemblence to the Senkaimon gates he had passed through more times than he could easily count. It wasn't a mock up of any sort of door or gate type that he recognized, and there didn't seem to even be a hint of bamboo or paper sheeting in the construction at all. There was wood... boy was there EVER wood, huge, thick vertical planks of it as tall as five tall men standing on each other's shoulders, and there was what looked like some kind of stone, a dark grey rock utterly unlike the pale stones used to construct the Sereitei, which formed a frame for the wooden planks. There was also a large metal contraption of some sort, built of iron bars as thick as his arm arrayed in a criss cross fashion, a row of ten vertical bars cross at perpendicular angles by eleven horizontal bars, built in front of the towering wooden planks. It almost looked like a big ass sewer grate or something. He'd never seen anything like it.
Judging from the confused looks and whispering going on around him, he wasn't the only person to be so baffled. More and more people were arriving on the walltops with every passing second, the echoes of the PA Hell butterflies still audible from nearby sectors of the Sereitei, and even the spacious walltop ramparts were beginning to get a bit crowded. Seeing one particular group arrive, Renji tensed his legs and leapt over the crowd to alight near them, drawing a cheerful wave from Rangiku and at least a nod of acknowledgement from Captain Hitsugaya, who had Momo clutching his arm like he was a teddy bear. Renji forbore commenting on this, both because Captain Hitsugaya could bend him into a human pretzel, and a frozen one at that, bankai or no bankai, but more because there were bigger matters at hand than teasing the young captain about his girlfriend. Hey, if Renji didn't enjoy flirting with danger, he never would have joined 11th division back in the day, would he?
After repeating his earlier question, basically tone perfect, and getting no more enlightenment from Captain Hitsugaya than he had the unseated Shinigami before, much to his disgruntlement, Renji reverted to staring at the odd gate, his hand tense on Zabimaru's hilt. He wasn't the only one to have a released Zanpakuto out, the message did say arrive on a war footing after all. So far, Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Fon and his own Captain seemed to be the only ones in attendance, despite the Hell Butterflies. Captain Kurotsuchi was probably deep in a lab somewhere, but nobody was going to miss him anyway, at least, Renji never would, not after that bad experience in Las Noches! And both Captain Unohana and Ukitake were at the 4th Division barracks, where the former was treating the latter for a flare up of his illness. Who knew where Captain Komamura or Kyoraku were, and as for Captain Zaraki, he was probably lost and they would all be better off for...
"That's a funny looking gate." Kenpachi Zaraki commented loudly, appearing on the top of the wall a few dozen feet away and glaring with disdain at the large spirit portal that was beginning to look like it was finally done constructing itself, the incanters on the other side plainly nearing the end of their spellcasting.
Well, so much for that idea. I guess even he can't get lost so easily when the message very definitely says, "go to the north gate". Even Yachiru would have had trouble messing that up. Probably. Renji thought to himself. Oh well, if the guys coming through this gate ended up hostile, then they were going to have a very nasty surprise when the Captain of the 11th fell on them like a ton of bricks armed with straight razors. And then the skin on the back of his neck started crawling and feeling hot, and he realized that the Captain-General himself had arrived, though he was staying back a bit, not obviously standing out from any of the other Captains just yet, unless you were familiar with the feel of his blazing spiritual energy, like standing next to a roaring furnance! Well then, one taste of Ryujin Jakka and these invaders were going to be going home in crispy chicken buckets...
Further conversation and speculation was stilled as the odd gate finished its construction and began to rumble, with a sound like huge gears turning out of sight. Slowly, so slowly at first that Renji had to look twice before he noticed it, the latticework of iron bars began to lift upwards, retracting into the ceiling of the portal construct, revealing that the bottom sections of each of the vertical bars were made from wickedly pointed speartips that were sunk deep into the ground. Now that he saw it in motion, Renji vaguely recalled seeing something like this on a tv show in the Living World. What was it called again? A portipotty? No... a porticlass? Ah, that was it, a porticullis! They were used to block entry to castles of some sort, as some sort of additional security precaution beyond just big doors. The porticullis rattled and clanked until it was fully withdrawn into the infinite ceiling of the gate construct, even the wicked speartips sinking into slots in the ceiling, as the main wooden doors began to open next.
But unlike all the doors Renji was familiar with, this one didn't open on either the left or right hinges, but instead just fell straight down, like it had been kicked out of its lintel by some titanic force! It wasn't until he heard more rattling and clanking of gears and chains, and saw that the door was being lowered, not dropped, that he realized it wasn't actuall a door, but a drawbridge! Of course there was no moat or trench for it to cross, but a drawbridge it was! It finally slammed down onto the roadway several seconds after it began moving, raising a brief lived cloud of dust, revealing a yawning black portal that was quickly filled with a blazing bright light of multiple hues, chiefly blues and reds and golds. And then things took a turn for the even more bizarre, as Renji could clearly hear the sounds of some sort of marching band or something coming from the gate, trumpets and horns and at least one drum beating a steady, brisk military tattoo. The Shinigami of the Gotei 13 did not march or parade, but Renji had seem such things in Living World media, so he wasn't quite as stunned as some of the others when the users of the gate finally came into view.
Which was kind of like saying that he wasn't "quite" as wet after only being sprayed with a firehose for three seconds, versus five, because he was still staring with dropped jaw and wide eyes as the outsiders came into clear view for the first time. First off, there was a LOT of them... the gate itself was easily wide enough for ten men to march abreast without touching the sides, and march abreast they did, their footsteps perfectly in time to the drumbeat, metal shod feet slamming into the ground in perfect lockstep, the tromping sound clearly audible throughout the surrounding area. It was more than just a little bit intimidating, actually. It didn't help that the marchers were encased from head to toe in gleaming metal plates that were obviously some kind of armor, inlaid with silver and gold in fantastic patterns, huge plumes of vibrant bird's feathers flying from the tops of their full face and head enclosing helms, with masks carved into visages of beautifically smiling children's faces. Though it was actually the massive two handed straight bladed greatswords that the first rank held in both hands, raised vertically in front of him, metal polished to a mirror sheen, that caught Renji's eyes the most.
If he was seeing things correctly, if those were Zanpakuto, or something like it, they were still totally sealed... but they were also almost five feet long and as broad as his palm! That was almost as big as fricking Shikai Zangetsu! If that corresponded to their spiritual pressure, those guys were no fucking joke! And they were only the first rank! Successive ranks, armored just as heavily and even more ornately if that was possible, marched in close order behind the greatswords, some of them blowing horns, others bearing tall standard poles tipped with spearpoints and sometimes offset axe-like blades on the top of the shaft, the poles being three times the height of a man with banners almost two thirds that length draping from them, snapping in a false breeze generated from the far side of the portal. None of the heraldric symbols or writing on the banners were familiar to Renji, they didn't look anything at all like the writing he was used to! The predominant symbol was a pure white field with red and golden cross shapes on it, but there plenty of others... a dark blue field with crossed red swords, a dull black field with no device, a silver banner with golden merchant's scales on it, and a varient on the main banner, white with gold and crimson crosses, with a silver crown studded with sapphires rampant across them.
Visually impressive as this was, it was still only the tip of the formation. Following the rows of marching heralds and greatswords came more units of soldiers, their armor plainer but not less strange to the Shinigami for lack of gilt and glitter, men and women wearing coats of linked chains and overlapping scales, all brightly polished or stained a dull red, with flying capes and cloaks and tabards of blue with the crimson crossed swords on them... plainly some sort of unit insignia. They favored no particular style of weapon, other than most of them were big and wicked looking, axes, spears, swords, even clubs, along with some that wore what looked like multiple weapons. Their marching effort was looser than that of the heralds, but still more unified than a similar group of Shinigami probably would have been. Behind them came what looked like the main section of the procession, forwarded by a group of men and women clad in loose flowing white robes with tall, pointed cloth hoods covering their faces, crimson or gold crosses painted across the face part of the hood, who chanted an incomprehensible, sonorous mantra in unison as they swung what looked like small flails trailing scented smoke back and forth, creating a thin mist of fumes for those behind to pass through, like the outside world was too stinky for their nostrils or something!
Behind the priests or whatever the people in the pointy hats were came another sight that was all but unheard of in the Sereitei and the Rukongai... warriors mounted upon horses, and what horses they were too! They were monstrously large, as tall as Zaraki at the shoulder, and built with the muscle mass of any three riding horses Renji had ever seen on Captain Kuchiki's estate! And they obviously needed this muscle, because like their riders, they were heavily armored in gleaming plates of thick metal, engraved with various symbols and runes and polished to a mirror bright sheen, even down to segments of metal covering their necks and encasing their heads, crowned with spikes and angled protrusions and decorative fright masks of their own. Their riders were all large men, carrying what looked like huge, iron shod spears in one hand, and holding broad slabs of wood and metal painted in the colors of silver with gold merchant scales upon them, matching their cloaks and tabards as well. In addition to their lances, the mounted riders wore a variety of more personal weapons, spiked maces, swords and other tools of warfare, some of them unlike anything the Sereitei had ever seen, such as crowbills or morning star flails. There were easily three dozen of these mounted super-warriors, and they almost seemed to make the ground tremble under the weight of their advance.
The mounted warriors were escorting a large wagon or wheeled conveyance of some sort, more like a small house on wheels, pulled by a team of eight of the gargantuan horses in two rows of four, which gave some clue as to just how massive the wagon and the walled edoubt or esidence built upon it actually was. More flags flew from the eaves of this stagecoach, its dark wood sides inlaid with gold and gems in intricate and artistic designs... clearly whomever it belonged to was both extremely wealthy and extremely important in some way. The tallest banner flying from the stagecoach was a repeat of the crowned crosses on white field seen earlier, with the golden scales on a silver field flag flying in subordinate position directly below. It was just a guess, but Renji was gonna say that the guys in silver and gold were part of the military leader's unit, and that whoever was in the coach was in turn in charge of him. And people said he was slow on the uptake... not when it came to the military!
By this point in time, the initial row of marching greatswords was almost two thirds of the way towards the now firmly shut northern gate of the Sereitei, and showed no signs of stopping their march. They moved like they were automatons of some sort, living dolls fully prepared to walk forward until they smashed their faces into the gates, and given the surety of their steps, Renji found hismelf doubting for a moment whether it would be the gate that was knocked down or them! None of the Shinigami, even normally unflappable sorts like Captain Kuchiki, seemed to quite know what to do when presented with this obviously very ceremonial entrance. This didn't feel like an attack so much as it did an occasion of state, and for a second, Renji almost felt underdressed, showing up in his day to day fighting clothes rather than full ceremonial getup, which he hadn't worn for more than a century! He shook off the sensation a little bit later, but he could see he wasn't the only one affected... it was a good tactic, showing up better dressed than the home team, putting them off their stride right from the get go.
More of the unknown warriors were moving out of the gate behind the stagecoach, their armor and insignia nothing more than plain black fields, and for the first time, the Shinigami were able to get a glimpse of the faces of the unknown warriors, as these soldiers wore little in the way of headgear other than occasional hooded cloaks or half masks, similar to those worn by the ninja of the Special Operation's squad. Yet there were more than enough who were bareheaded and bare faced fo enji, as well as anyone else that had been paying attention to Captain Kuchiki's detailed briefing of less than an hour ago, accompanied by the hand drawn picture from Captain Soi Fon, to recognize them as the same race as the guy from the sketch! Their faces were oddly shaped, their eyes more rounded rather than folded at the ends, and their features just seemed coarser or more open. Beards were prevalent on many men, some quite long and full, and both men and women alike wore their hair long and usually straight, and they had a riot of hair colors, red, blond, brown, black and grey, unlike the Shinigami who were mostly dark haired with a few exceptions, such as Kira or Renji or Captain Hitsugaya. The men themselves just seemd slightly physically larger overall as well, and their armor just made them look bigger.
Renji tried to make a quick count of the soldiers, but gave up when he realized the number was well over a hundred, maybe even over two hundred, and there were still some troops moving out of the gate! Ceremonial procession or not, there was now a small army arrayed outside the Sereitei gates and still, nobody had the slightest fucking clue who these guys were, how they got here, or why they were here. The procession continued forward, before finally stopping with a final clash of armored feet only a few scant yards from the North Gate itself, a shocking silence suddenly descending upon the area as the horns and drums and clanking tromp of marching feet finally died away, and seemingly all at once. Not a single one of the greatswords or the heralds twitched a muscle, or even appeared to breathe, though some of the warriors behind were not quite so perfect in their discipline, which was a small relief. These guys weren't perfect.
Then Renji was gaping again, as, without warning and in perfect lockstep, the greatswords took a single step forward, letting out a fierce yell as they dropped to one kneed, their sword tips now firmly planted in the dust, all happening totally in unison as they split into two files of five, forming a tunnel of kneeling armored bodies down which a man wearing plate armor crafted from what looked like solid gold inlaid with rubies and sapphires in cross like designs came striding forward, a long white cloak tailing behind him, bearing the emblem of the golden scales beneath a silver crown. A long, one handed and straight bladed sword was buckled at his waist, and he carried a hefty silver shield bossed with another emblem of the merchant's scales in gold on the front. His helmet was done up in the image of a female face wearing a blindfold, with tall plumes of pure white feathers almost a foot long jutting in a crest from the top of the helm. He was so goddamn bright in the morning sunlight that it was physically hard to look at him! Still, his poise itself declared that this was no mere functionary, but a real warrior who knew very well the power of an overwhelmingly strong first impression.
The warrior in gold stopped just shy of the gate, and for a long, half comical second, Renji thought the guy was actually gonna reach out and knock on the doors, but he didn't do that, he was merely reaching up to unbuckle his helm, which he slowly, majestically doffed and cradled under the crook of his non-shield bearing arm. This burdened both of his hands and made it impossible for him to draw a weapon, a subtle gesture that was not missed by those with an eye for detail and political decorum amongst the Shinigami. The man... young man, he couldn't have been older than his early 190's, or 19-20 in human years... shook his shoulder length dark brown hair into a semblance of order, and looked up challengingly at the walltop and the Shinigami clustered there with his piercing, blue-violet eyes. His countenance was handsome enough, even oddly shaped as it was, to make several unattached female Shinigami sigh softly before they caught themselves in embarassment.
"Greetings to you, noble people, I am Duke of Order, Alyster Fane, of his Rex Divinia's most holy Imperium Animi Crusade Army, Order Squadron. I speak for her imperial Highness and third in line to the throne of the Rex Divinia, the most worthy Princess Lacus DeCirc, his divine majesty's hand chosen envoy to your backwater and primitive land! I request that you unbarr this gate and summon your council of lords to meet with her Highness and her chosen counselers at the earliest possible convenience. We mean you no harm, but we will not tolerate any hindrance or disrespect towards her Highness, as we are on a mission of the utmost importance for his holiness, the Rex Divinia! I am waiting for your reply!" The beautific young man in the golden armor bellowed with a parade ground voice, easily carrying to all the Shinigami on the wall. Which was all well and good, save that none of them understood a single word he said. None of them had even heard his type of language before, couldn't even get a good feel for syntax and vocabulary. Long moments passed as the Shinigami on the wall looked at each other and then at their Captains, who were in turn looking to the Captain-General for direction, and the golden armored young man continued to stare expectantly up at them, his face composed and showing no signs of impatience or worry.
Finally, the uneasy stalemate was broken as Soi Fon, seeing that the Captain-General was determined to sit and mull things over in his own time... no one and nothing could rush Captain-General Yamamoto of the 1st Division if he did not choose to be rushed... turned back to observing the strange and outlandish ranks of the enemy procession, and found her gaze caught by a certain figure in a long black coat, with brown hair and a silvery staff clutched in one hand, lurking unobtrusively in the back section of the parade, amongst the people grouped under the black on black banner. He was doing a good job of staying in what little shadows there were to be had, but not good enough to go unnoticed by someone of her caliber! "It's him! That's the man I saw last night! He was there, at the massacre!" Soi Fon announced, pointing the man out, Suzumebachi already released and moulded to her hand, so that her deadly stinger accentuated the pointing motion. Even as she was so doing, she watched the man in the black coat pointing back at her, speaking to a large and uncouth looking man with ringleted black hair standing next to him, this other man was dressed in frippery of crimson and blue and wore a magnificent broad brimmed hat of black with blue and crimson feathers stuck in the brim, with a long and broad sword sheathed at his side.
"That's her, the midget with the rings on her braids. She's the one I saw last night, poking around the remnants of that village that Vandire and his goons trashed." Mal Elkiran, Duke of Shadows for his majesty the Rex Divinia's Imperial Crusade Army, pointed out to his best friend, Vladimo Morieth, Duke of Battle, indicating the spitfire of a woman who was making a scene on top of the wall, completely disproportionate to her childlike stature.
"The one that looks like she's 120, at MOST? I never thought you went in for the cradle robbing, Mal. I thought you said you saw a really sexy woman last night. Now I see you found a boy with breasts. I'm disappointed in you, my friend." Vladimo replied with a smile twisting his lips as he goaded his longest standing friend.
"Well, if she doesn't fit your tastes, then that's no skin off my nose. Be nice to find a woman that doesn't instantly swoon and fall head over heels into your bed for a change anyway." Mal smiled and waved jauntily at the scowling woman who had caught his eye. "See, she's already pointing me out. Clearly she has good taste in men. And for the record she IS extremely sexy, even if she is a little flat in the chest. Not all women should be judged by the size of their bust, you know, they have other important attributes as well. Such as hands. She looks like she has very nice and dextrous hands. I could do a lot with those hands..."
"You're starting to scare me, Mal. Wanting women for their hands? You've been out in the sun too long without a hat again. Now, if you'll cast your appreciate if slightly deranged gaze a bit to the left, you'll see a woman that exemplifies women. ZOUNDS! Now that is pure sex right there!" Vladimo argued, gesturing happily at another woman, taking the time with the same movement to eye the weapons and armor on display amongst the black clad short people. Swords and none, respectively. Bunch of hayseeds didn't even know to wear armor? He didn't wear armor either of course, but that was a personal choice... fighting was too easy if he let himself wear armor. He had to handicap himself to make it fun.
"You mean the redhead with tits that could suffocate a horse? Why am I not surprised. You always did have a talent for picking out the most well endowed women instantly. You do realize with tits that big, she can't have much muscle in the skull area, right? Its a biological impossibility..." Mal retorted, enjoying the bickering with his friend, as it did a great job of diffusing tension. He hated being out in the open, exposed like this. This wasn't his sort of battlefield.
"Why would I want her to have muscles in her skull? I'm not planning on fucking her skull, or burying my face in it and blowing a raspberry therein. You're weird, Mal, just weird. Accept it."
"No weirder than you, Vlad, no weirder than you. Hey, do you think they're ever gonna reply to Alyster, or are we just gonna stand around in the sun with our dicks in the breeze for the rest of the day? I don't like being this visible. Bad things always happen to me when I'm visible. I am a creature of the night and dark places... this is neither night nor a dark place, just about the opposite in both categories! Hey, check out the freak with the spikes and the bells and the eyepatch! What a fruitcake!"
"All right, enough of this bullshit, I'm fucking bored!" Captain Zaraki announced grumpily atop the wall. "Seeing as no one has started trying to talk to these freaks yet, I guess no one has any problems with me trying MY solution to a bunch of clowns in silly outfits interrupting my morning bath and massage, right?" He turned and looked at Soi Fon with his one uncovered eye. The two of them were rarely in agreement on anything of substance, but he could see that she was eager to get to grips with the guy in the coat so she could start asking him pointed questions by tickling his manhood with her Zanpakuto, which was almost an erotic thought if he had any taste for short, angry women. Which he didn't, angry was all well and good, but he hated tiny women. Always afraid he was gonna step on em or crush em or something. No fun at all.
"This is clearly a diplomatic overture." Captain Kuchiki spoke up, ruining Zaraki's fun, as was normal for the prissy nobleman. "Responding with violence would be the height of barbarism and dishonor. Then again, it is you, Captain Zaraki, so I guess we should not be surprised."
"Is that guy in the blue and red pimps outfit staring at my chest, or is it just me?" Matsumoto whispered in an aside to her Captain, giving the man in question the gimlet eye all the while. Not that she wasn't used to men staring at her chest, she was proud of that affect she had on them, but she didn't even know this guy and already he was trying to give her a "come hither" look? Yeah right, no thanks.
"Well, if you'd wear your uniform properly, perhaps they wouldn't be so obviously on display." Hitsugaya replied out of the corner of his mouth. He didn't like the appraising looks the man Matsumoto had indicated was giving not just his Vice-Captain, but everyone on the wall. He recognized the eyes of a veteran warrior when he saw them analyzing him. And he was having a tough time getting a read on the outsiders in turn, if only because most of them were little more than immutable statues in their metal full body armor, unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Even the armored giant of Komamura's Bankai didn't have armor as comprehensive or detailed as the stuff these people wore! If he hadn't seen the youth in gold... who was not that much older than Hitsugaya himself by his estimation, if distressingly taller... take off his helm to reveal a human face beneath, he might have thought they all really were golems or dolls and not humans in strange armor!
Their conversation was interrupted by Zaraki once more, who, fed up with Byakuya's smart remarks, effectively ended the arguement by leaping down from the wall and striding over to loom over the youth in gold, who, to his credit, did not flinch upon being towered over by a brutal giant like Kenpachi Zaraki, with his jagged edged and much chipped sword slung across one shoulder. It was a plain physical challenge, Zaraki doing everything short of reaching out and shoving the young man in getting into his personal space, daring a reaction, looking for any excuse to pick a fight. The youth in gold seemed determined not to rise to the provokation, though it was plain from the feel of his spiritual energy that he was not as calm as his poker face let on. "Well...?" Zaraki demanded with a snort, eyeing the youth in gold like he was a ugly species of houseplant.
"May I help you... sir?" Alyster said after several long seconds, stressing the question on the "sir", as he was not sure what social rank, if any, this man had. The single exclamation the musclebound brute had made hadn't been nearly enough to equate to either a question or an attempted response to his prior announcement. What kind of backwards hellhole was this anywhere, where they didn't even speak a debased form of the King's Tongue? Everyone sure was dressed funny too. Their swords were weird also, and if the brute was any example, their quality was extremely low, as was their personal care standards. You could tell a lot about people by looking at how well they took care of their weapons and equipment, and all he could tell was that these people were slovenly and ignorant of even the most basic care methods. He wondered if these people had even made their swords, or if they had bartered or stolen them from some more advanced and enlightened culture. So far he was not overly impressed with them, despite the rather magnificent wall they'd erected around their capital city. Another barter, or were they just vagrants who moved in after the original owners left?
"Hey Alyster, I think he LIKES you!" Shouted Duke Morieth, one of the least serious and most annoying of all his fellow Sanctus Dominii... Holy Dukes of the Imperium Animi Crusade Armor, commanders in chief of each individual Squadron of his Majesty's military forces. Of course, expecting tact and diplomatic restraint from the Duke of Battles was perhaps asking a bit much. All his Squadron was good for was pitching into the Daemonic forces at full charge, weapons waving high, to distract and occupy them while more refined and effective Squadrons, such as his own Order Squadron, manuevered for best advantage. He was a definite liability in a delicate first contact type situation like this one, but what choice did they have? It wasn't like they could send him home, it would take two decades for him to recross the wilderness back to his Majesty's holy domains!
"You're not helping, Morieth! Go stare at a cow's tits or something, and stop bothering the adults!" Alyster shouted back, keeping a friendly smile plastered on his face for the benefit of the brute frowning down at him. Nice doggy... good doggy... don't bite me doggy, I don't wanna have to put a tribal leader down so soon...
"Hah! Thanks but no thanks, Fane, there's at least one set of bigger tits on that wall than any cow I ever seen! Would you stop pussyfooting around and either kiss your boyfriend there or kick his ass so we can stop hanging around here in the sunlight? Mal's starting to melt back here, and that ain't a pretty sight!"
Though quite unable to understand what either yelling man was saying, Kenpachi was more than capable of understanding tone of voice, and the mocking tone of the second man's voice, the guy in blue and red mufti by the stagecoach, was a decided indicator that he had no fucking idea who he was making fun of. Grunting irritably, Zaraki sidestepped around the kid in gold armor and made a beeline straight through the middle of the serried ranks of outsiders towards the offending man, who was almost as big as he was, with a shit eating grin on his face that just begged to be wiped bloodily off. It was slower going than he was used to... unlike the other Shinigami, these rubes didn't automatically give way before him, and he had to literally walk over more than few of them before they began grudgingly stepping aside, perhaps by order of the kid in gold, since he was shouting some more of the gibberish shit, but Kenpachi didn't care one way or another. Soon enough though, he was standing chest to chest with the mocking man, trading glares and bloodthirsty grins, point for point. "I have no fucking idea who you are, but I get the feeling you and I are gonna beat the shit out of each other before too much longer..." Kenpachi observed, smirk stretching across his face.
"Your breath stinks of fish, fruitcake. I don't know who the hell you think you are, swaggering up to me like this, but I'm here to tell you that you might be a big fish in a small pond, but I'm a motherfucking shark and I'm ready to prove it to you whenever you're ready for the ass kicking of your pitiful existence. Look at this loon, Mal, he's grinning like he's just found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I've never wanted to hurt someone so badly before. He's totally asking for it! It would be impolite to refuse at this point in time!" Vladimo retorted, fighting the urge to draw his Arma Sancti and sheathe it again in the Fruitcake's guts. Such restraint did not come naturally to the Duke of Battle, first in and always last out of any conflict to be had. Still, there was the matter of counting coupe to consider, so he kept Zobens sheathed for the time being, smeared a smarmy clown grin on his face to match the Fruitcake's, and then deliberately thumbed his nose at the freak. It took a moment for the ass to figure the hand gesture out, but regardless of language barriers, insulting hand gestures were fairly universal, even if the exact content wasn't conveyed.
"Okay, wiseass, thank you, that's what I was waiting for. Fucking finally, someone here grows a set of balls." Zaraki growled happily, as he lifted his Zanpakuto off his shoulders. He had to pause only a moment when he took a closer look at the wiseass's face, noting that his dark green eyes had pupils like those of a cats, and his smile was made entirely of interlocking, jagged fangs. Now, Zaraki wasn't usually one to pay much attention during Captain's meetings, but the last one was still fairly recent, and he always perked up when terms like "biting people's faces off" were tossed about, so he was fairly sure he was looking at someone with traits similar to those that Soi Fon had described in the undead monsters that tried to kill her. Not that it changed anything, he was still going to cut this guy down to size anyway, but it might keep the old fart off his back in the future, which was never an entirely bad thing. "Draw yer sword, its time for some fun..." Zaraki declared, pointing his jagged blade into the guy's face.
"Aww, shit..." Renji cursed with feeling, as he saw Captain Zaraki smiled and point his sword at the guy in blue and crimson's face. "So much for diplomacy..."
"Hey, the Fruitcake just put his fucking sword in my face, here! I can't let that go..." Vladimo called out, drawing curses from Alyster and several others that had been hoping, for once, to not get involved in a brawl right off the bat. He put his hand on Zobens's hilt, drawing forth his broadsword, which was about the same size as the spike haired Fruitcake's saber-thing, though in considerably better shape and straight edged of course. Quite who made the next move, nobody was sure, but sudden movement from beside him showed Mal dodging away from the short woman with the braid rings, as she used some fast move technique to try and get the drop on him and put him into a submission hold. Problem being, the Duke of Shadows was never really off guard, and was able to duck away from her grab. That was the thing that tore it. One thing for the Duke of Battle to pick a fight... that was all but expected by this point, it was practically written in the rulebook, but for some slip of a girl to try and blindside the Duke of Shadows for no good reason? It was on...
"Slice the foe, Zobens!" Vladimo called out his battle cry, entering his Ascension mode and signalling the call to general battle for his unit.
"THAT'S a sword release!" Captain Hitsugaya called out, though it was fairly obvious what the sudden increase in power and alteration of the shape of the broad bladed one handed sword into a thin, dark two handed version, somewhat reminiscent of Kurosaki's Bankai, just sized for two handed use. "Reign over the frozen heavens, Hyoinmaru!"
"Adapt to all circumstances, Mercurius!"
"Growl, Haineko...!"
"Fly to their heart, Umbra Scalprum!"
"Scatter, Senbonzakura..."
"Stalk my prey, Nebula Venator..."
"Grow, Hozukimaru!"
"Goddamn you, Morieth, you just had to do it, didn't you? Once, just once, could you stay out of my attempts at diplomacy, you warfiend! I guess I have no choice now... Judge the guilty, Onere della Guistizia!"
"I've had enough. I won't be intimidated or attacked at the gates of my own home by these outlandish upstarts. Reduce all of creation to ash, Ryujin Jakka...!"
"DID HE JUST TRANSCEND? BECAUSE, HOLY SHIT!"
"I think that MIGHT just be Ascension..."
"Really? That sucks... FOR US! Sovereign plus class Fire, twelve o'clock high!"
"That's quite enough of all this noise! Honestly, could you all try to act your ages for ONCE? I'm disappointed in you all." This last voice came from the stagecoach, and it belonged to a young woman with a fountain of flowing red hair that extended almost to the ground, for all that she stood a good six feet off of it on the sideboard of the wagon-residence. She was dressed in robes of white, with diadems of rubies and sapphires adorning her clothing, and a simple circlet of silver about her brow, capped with a single square cut sapphire the size of a dove's egg on the front, and her periwinkle eyes flashed with annoyed fire. She raised the silvery scepter in her right hand, studded with more of the ruby and sapphire gems that were the mark of her family and status and sighed loudly. "Rest admist great peace, Regina della Tranquillo." She intoned conversationally, rather than shouted or declared. The scepter turned gold, and the gems bgean to faintly glow, but the most visible effect was the drifting clouds of sparkling blue spirit particles that suddenly suffused a several mile radius around her position.
All released weapons, Zanpakuto and Arma Sancti both, within the area of sparkling blue were instantly returned to their baseline sealed form. That was the power of Regina della Tranquillo, the Queen of Tranquility, to ability to stop fighting before it could escalate any further. The power was absolute, but also indiscriminate, affecting both friend and foe equally, and also halving the power of offensive or binding magics used within its sphere of influence. The peace aura could only be maintained for a short time, but it was generally long enough for her to at least try and reach people with words once again. Certainly, she was adept at taking advantage of the shock of those who suddenly found themselves forced out of their myriad and powerful unique battle stances without warning. And the more powerful and experienced a combatant was, the usually greater their surprise was at suddenly have no access to the bulk of their power. She picked out the old man with the long grey beard, who had so awed and even frightened her escorts with his display of his sovereign plus class Fire Arma, and correctly deduced that he must be the leader or one of the leaders.
Carefully stepping down from her carriage, Princess Lacus DeCirc, third in line to the throne of the Rex Divinia of the Imperium Animi, gratefully accepted a hand down from one of Alyster's Order Knights, her handmaidens gathering up her inconveniently long train of hair that was yet another mark of her status and importance. Waving off further assistance from her gaggle of priests and servants, Lacus pointed her scepter at the wary Captain-General to get his attention, and then gave him her most winning apologetic smile. "We... come... peace... in..." Lacus intoned carefully, having studied many languages in the past, a necessity for a successful diplomat, and having once poured over a truly ancient book of translated terms that seemed to have been compiled even before the Imperium itself was established by her great ancestor. She had never heard the tongue spoken aloud except by herself, until just now. To think, they were actually in the mythical land of SouSoi, or something like that. It boggled the mind... the pursuit had led them this far! Would Vandire never stop running? Or was this his goal all along? It was tough to tell with a creature like him. "Be... friends... you... us, not... harm... you... meant... Oh, I'm sure I'm getting this all wrong, I probably just insulted his mother or something!"
Princess DeCirc sighed and waved her scepter, canceling her Ascension and once more allowing the release of Arma Sancti and other soul-weapons, half expecting the city to become a battlefield at once. No such thing occured. In fact, most people on both sides just seemed to be looking at her funny. "Um, Milady, I think you may have overawed the primitives with your divine power... certainly, you always manage to impress me, and I know what to expect from the Regina!" Alyster, her best friend, lover and the military commander of this most important mission, despite his tender years, pointed out, sotto voce.
"Maybe we ought to talk to these people first, Yama-jii..." Captain Kyoraku opined, having arrived late to the scene, just barely in time to see Ryujin Jakka forcibly resealed with the mere wave of a pretty girl's jeweled wand. Her Japanese was horribly mangled and impossible archiac, but it was at least mostly understandable. He wondered from she had learned it... nobody spoke in such stilted terms anymore, not even Yama-jii, and he was older than just about everyone but the Royal Family! Seeing that no one else was inclined to play the peacemaker, most of them looking locked in a sudden confused or pissed off conversation with their Zanpakuto, trying to figure out what the HELL had just happened, Shunsui sighed and beckoned for the gate to be opened, using his extensive knowledge of hand gestures and other nonverbal means of communication, learned from centuries of sometimes being too drunk to talk properly while still needing to order more sake or a bed to sleep in, to hopefully pantomime communicate to the outsider leader that she was to be allowed to come inside, along with her people, though they were going to be watched very carefully.
"Shunsui..." Captain-General Yamamoto said, irritation in his voice, even though Ryujin Jakka had once more returned to cane form.
"Yes, Yama-jii?" Kyoraku answered, expecting a reprimand about exceeding his authority.
"You're late..."