Any, including cellmatesfind_my_truthFebruary 22 2010, 07:50:02 UTC
Well, this could have gone better.
They had been so careful, or at least he'd thought. Took every care, watched their every step. But it seemed even years of 'practice' against such enemies couldn't rule out plain-old bad luck. And such bad luck they had! Swarms of foes that not even Izanagi-no-Okami could keep up with.
Souji sighed, sounding more relaxed then he really was. His wrists ached from the cuffs around them, and his Personae were howling at the affects this place was having on them, thudding against his skull as if trying to escape. His clothing was bloody and torn, his hair in clumps and head hung low from pure exhaustion.
huhuuuuu /experiments withonlyluminousFebruary 22 2010, 08:17:06 UTC
There were those who thought the freedom she'd been given -- to walk the halls of Las Noches wherever she pleased, trailed by a pair of silent guards -- was a gift. They were wrong
( ... )
His name on familiar lips was enough to rouse him from his inner place. That place of blue velvet and rumbling motors and fine, hard drink. He couldn't escape there completely, couldn't speak with the people there. But the cuffs couldn't take it from him completely anymore then they could take away his sense of self. And even a taste was a comfort.
Souji looked up, eyes fighting to focus. When they finally did he managed a genuine smile, unguarded if just for how dazed he still was. The look hardened slightly when he saw the guards though... Uni was just as much a captive as he. No doubt of her loyalties even crossed his mind.
"Glad to see you... out and about, Uni-san." He finally managed, a little breathless.
The way her nails dug into her palms surprised her, as did what she said next -- not to him, but to the two women who stood behind her, keeping as always a distance perfectly balanced between intrusion and permissiveness. "The key," she said. "To this cell."
She knew they'd have it. They had access to almost every door in the citadel; he had made a point of telling her this, as if holding that promise of unlooked-for freedom barely out of her reach had been proof of his sincerity rather than a torture in itself. Uni had swallowed her fear that first time; and now-- "The key," she repeated, and was hard-pressed not to betray any emotion when she felt the cold metal of it pressed into her palm.
Uni opened the cell door and stepped inside. She didn't glance at the others inside. She didn't know them, and it was difficult -- more difficult -- to deal with these strangers, as if somehow anonymity rendered them more innocent and weak and deserving of her protection (...no) than those she knew. At the back of her mind she still wondered,
( ... )
The dungeons were not the kind of place a person went walking just for kicks. It was dark and dangerous, the smell of death choking the air mixed in with other scents that were even more unpleasant. Sometimes things escaped, either from upstairs or even lower. Sometimes the ground would shift, bringing down a ceiling or simply ensuring that certain doors would never open again, to the despair of their poor inhabitants. They eventually became shapeless, hairless, emaciated skeletons, crawling about with blinded eyes and toothless jaws. Sometimes Gin left food for them, the cruellest act of kindness he could think of.
But mostly he went into the dungeons in search of a different entertainment. To find something a little more salvageable in the midst of the dying and the ruined. Signs of life among the damned. Some of the lucky ones got taken from their cells for his amusement. If they stayed lucky, they died quickly, and got to see the sky one last time first.
Fresh meat! Also, I'll toss Shinjiro in to help with any other toys Gin finds B3dai_mon_daiFebruary 22 2010, 08:56:10 UTC
Few people lasted long down here with becoming the monsters that lurked in the corners. If they didn't go mad or end up dragged away they were often enough food for the half-starved that lived with them.
But few did not mean none.
The amount of time he'd been down here was unknowable, to him or any of the other prisoners that even still had the mentality to care. Less then a month, longer then a week. Maybe. One patrol or another had picked him up after a long grueling battle, slapping him cuffs and going to lick their wounds. But when he was found not to match none of their 'most wanted' or even recognized as a resistance fighter at all, he was quickly forgotten.
Masaru did not forget though.
It was true, he wasn't with the resistance. He had been traveling since before Aizen took over, and hadn't stopped when he had. He found justice his own way, taking out groups of Arrancar when he could and generally being a pest. A few muttered whispers of a name, Daimon. But in the end it was always assumed that it was Daimon the elder, the
( ... )
Jenka sat in the dungeon, and laughed. Her cell-mates - the ones still alive - edged away from her, having long come to the conclusion she was insane. They were wrong - she'd been close to losing her mind in her time with the resistance, but this was helping.
She trailed her fingers along the wet trails on the wall with intimate familiarity. "Hello," she whispered, half-expecting the place to answer. It was like being a child again. What are they going to do with me?
It would certainly be something good, one way or the other. She'd always wanted whoever killed her to have their fun with it.
/SNEAKY TAG ATTACKinyourmidstMarch 29 2010, 01:50:35 UTC
The ringing echo of laughter caught his attention first. Anyone who could still manage a sound like that down here was worth a second look. He paused by the cell door, leaning fearlessly with his hands threaded through the bars to peer into the darkness, and found his eyes falling on the bedraggled outline of a halo of pale pair
( ... )
For anyone, if you'll forgive the purple purple prosenohoppityskipFebruary 22 2010, 10:11:28 UTC
It's ironic, perhaps, that the supposed queen of the conqueror feels as trapped as if she wore chains instead of white. But Susan has never been one to complain when all it would get her is nowhere, very quickly.
And so she bides her time, and waits for the time to ebb again. And every once in a long while, when the chains of who she must now be get too heavy to bear, she thinks of the dungeons. The beasts do not bother her: even before, it was the monsters in the dark afraid of her.
It's not so much that it reminds her of where she could be, but of who she once was. When the monsters fear you, it's easier to pretend you aren't among human-shaped monsters yourself.
Besides, down here it's dark, and cool. And quiet, for her.
He knows her steps before they're more then a whisper. Perhaps even better then Aizen or Gin's, if just because she if Death herself, and he knows Death very well. A low breath, and he peeks out from one of the cells, his one broken eye staring at her intently while the other almost seems to vibrate with how often it relaxes and contrasts.
Shinjiro is the only one down here for more then an occasional visit. He 'woke up' here, and the squalling things bring him some comfort. He even occasionally finds something warm and alive and screaming still, and that's a treat worth wandering down here for. In fact, there's a bit of thick smeared red on one corner of his mouth. A spot his tongue darts out to catch.
o bb hello there~nohoppityskipFebruary 22 2010, 10:37:12 UTC
Death is a constant in this place. Little d death. Maybe another reason why she feels not out of place down here. Death goes well with Death. And she can sense Shinjiro as well, even before he speaks. The thing that should not be, and yet is. Her lord is fond of those.
So Susan stops, when he utters her name. Death cannot refuse a summons, and he is coherent enough today to speak them. "Shinjiro," she names the thing that was. "I see you found something." A neutral remark, no judgement. Here, the dead eat too.
Unlike most of the others, Hijikata (or so he had once been called - now, there was only Toshirou) wasn't in the cells... mainly for the sole reason being that he didn't need to be in a cell. Why should he need to be in a cell, when he no longer has a reason to fight and struggle? The man once knew as Hijikata Toshirou was already long, long gone - there was only the Arrancar now, the Arrancar that was dutifully and obediently serving the one who made him so.
And it was on that obedience he was down in the dungeons today, stark white robes pooling around his silent form as the wolf-like demihuman sat near the entrance of the dungeon, ready to move and strike whoever so dared to try and escape from this place. He was the wolf... and this whole dungeon was his prey. The prisoners were safe behind those bars, but once they were out of there... who knew what could happen.
/gives Arrancar!Rou a chance to hurt someone B3dai_mon_daiFebruary 22 2010, 14:47:03 UTC
He didn't know anything about the man who used to be call Hijikata, and to a degree he didn't care. Now there was just an Arrancar. And while he may have tried to reach the man with his fists, he had yet to see these guard-dogs react more then returned violence. Not real battle, but some kind of foul bloodlust that both made hm sick and felt much too familiar.
So he didn't bother challenging him, simply kicking down the the cell door he was crouching behind, hoping to catch the wolf-arrancar by surprise before swinging his still bound fists in a wide haymaker arch. Even with the suppressor cuffs these still pulsed with a dull orange light around them, a tasty beacon to many of the creatures living here.
/...oh Masaru, you have no idea what you're getting into.mayoviceFebruary 22 2010, 14:53:43 UTC
There was no reaction whatsoever to the loud CLANG that came when the cell door fell onto the floor - nor did he react to the attack that came right before him. Much more than just a mere human, the Arrancar was no longer the man who he was... both mentally as well as physically. His senses were sharpened, reflexes and strength heightened to the extent of being called inhuman.
Which was also why he was the perfect guard dog.
In the blink of an eye, Masaru would find his attack stopped as a rough, calloused wrapped around one of his fists, the magic around his hand dissipating with a burst of his own as Hijikata looked up and directed a glare towards the other. The eyes flared once - an unnatural blue - blazing with unrestrained power before the Arrancar twisted his arm to send the human crashing down onto the floor violently without remorse.
/does he ever?dai_mon_daiFebruary 23 2010, 01:47:56 UTC
The look of surprise on Masaru's face would almost be called comic. It wasn't that he was unused to be deflected: it was that this man had done it so easily, dispersing the charge of pure energy around his hands like blowing out a birthday candle. True, he was much weaker with these damn cuffs, but...
His breath came out in one big 'hughf!' when he hit the ground, but he was nothing if not stubborn. So with another grunt he was twisting back to his feet, feeling his body pulse with more pure energy, thudding in his veins like a rotten tooth. He'd never had it hurt before... but not being able to use it freely was causing all kinds of strange aches.
"Heh, you're pretty good. Let's try that again." he smirked, not looking afraid at all for this strange wolf-man.
Comments 29
They had been so careful, or at least he'd thought. Took every care, watched their every step. But it seemed even years of 'practice' against such enemies couldn't rule out plain-old bad luck. And such bad luck they had! Swarms of foes that not even Izanagi-no-Okami could keep up with.
Souji sighed, sounding more relaxed then he really was. His wrists ached from the cuffs around them, and his Personae were howling at the affects this place was having on them, thudding against his skull as if trying to escape. His clothing was bloody and torn, his hair in clumps and head hung low from pure exhaustion.
He'd had better days.
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Souji looked up, eyes fighting to focus. When they finally did he managed a genuine smile, unguarded if just for how dazed he still was. The look hardened slightly when he saw the guards though... Uni was just as much a captive as he. No doubt of her loyalties even crossed his mind.
"Glad to see you... out and about, Uni-san." He finally managed, a little breathless.
Reply
She knew they'd have it. They had access to almost every door in the citadel; he had made a point of telling her this, as if holding that promise of unlooked-for freedom barely out of her reach had been proof of his sincerity rather than a torture in itself. Uni had swallowed her fear that first time; and now-- "The key," she repeated, and was hard-pressed not to betray any emotion when she felt the cold metal of it pressed into her palm.
Uni opened the cell door and stepped inside. She didn't glance at the others inside. She didn't know them, and it was difficult -- more difficult -- to deal with these strangers, as if somehow anonymity rendered them more innocent and weak and deserving of her protection (...no) than those she knew. At the back of her mind she still wondered, ( ... )
Reply
But mostly he went into the dungeons in search of a different entertainment. To find something a little more salvageable in the midst of the dying and the ruined. Signs of life among the damned. Some of the lucky ones got taken from their cells for his amusement. If they stayed lucky, they died quickly, and got to see the sky one last time first.
Reply
But few did not mean none.
The amount of time he'd been down here was unknowable, to him or any of the other prisoners that even still had the mentality to care. Less then a month, longer then a week. Maybe. One patrol or another had picked him up after a long grueling battle, slapping him cuffs and going to lick their wounds. But when he was found not to match none of their 'most wanted' or even recognized as a resistance fighter at all, he was quickly forgotten.
Masaru did not forget though.
It was true, he wasn't with the resistance. He had been traveling since before Aizen took over, and hadn't stopped when he had. He found justice his own way, taking out groups of Arrancar when he could and generally being a pest. A few muttered whispers of a name, Daimon. But in the end it was always assumed that it was Daimon the elder, the ( ... )
Reply
She trailed her fingers along the wet trails on the wall with intimate familiarity. "Hello," she whispered, half-expecting the place to answer. It was like being a child again. What are they going to do with me?
It would certainly be something good, one way or the other. She'd always wanted whoever killed her to have their fun with it.
Reply
Reply
And so she bides her time, and waits for the time to ebb again. And every once in a long while, when the chains of who she must now be get too heavy to bear, she thinks of the dungeons. The beasts do not bother her: even before, it was the monsters in the dark afraid of her.
It's not so much that it reminds her of where she could be, but of who she once was. When the monsters fear you, it's easier to pretend you aren't among human-shaped monsters yourself.
Besides, down here it's dark, and cool. And quiet, for her.
She walks through darkness, and knows it well.
Reply
Shinjiro is the only one down here for more then an occasional visit. He 'woke up' here, and the squalling things bring him some comfort. He even occasionally finds something warm and alive and screaming still, and that's a treat worth wandering down here for. In fact, there's a bit of thick smeared red on one corner of his mouth. A spot his tongue darts out to catch.
"Susan." All he really needed to say, honestly.
Reply
So Susan stops, when he utters her name. Death cannot refuse a summons, and he is coherent enough today to speak them. "Shinjiro," she names the thing that was. "I see you found something." A neutral remark, no judgement. Here, the dead eat too.
Reply
And it was on that obedience he was down in the dungeons today, stark white robes pooling around his silent form as the wolf-like demihuman sat near the entrance of the dungeon, ready to move and strike whoever so dared to try and escape from this place. He was the wolf... and this whole dungeon was his prey. The prisoners were safe behind those bars, but once they were out of there... who knew what could happen.
Reply
So he didn't bother challenging him, simply kicking down the the cell door he was crouching behind, hoping to catch the wolf-arrancar by surprise before swinging his still bound fists in a wide haymaker arch. Even with the suppressor cuffs these still pulsed with a dull orange light around them, a tasty beacon to many of the creatures living here.
Reply
Which was also why he was the perfect guard dog.
In the blink of an eye, Masaru would find his attack stopped as a rough, calloused wrapped around one of his fists, the magic around his hand dissipating with a burst of his own as Hijikata looked up and directed a glare towards the other. The eyes flared once - an unnatural blue - blazing with unrestrained power before the Arrancar twisted his arm to send the human crashing down onto the floor violently without remorse.
Reply
His breath came out in one big 'hughf!' when he hit the ground, but he was nothing if not stubborn. So with another grunt he was twisting back to his feet, feeling his body pulse with more pure energy, thudding in his veins like a rotten tooth. He'd never had it hurt before... but not being able to use it freely was causing all kinds of strange aches.
"Heh, you're pretty good. Let's try that again." he smirked, not looking afraid at all for this strange wolf-man.
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