[BiTPR2] Renewed Revolution: Spirit World V

[strawberryman]

[Soul Society]
(East Gate Hospital)

Momoka utters a few incantations of her own as Kazuki prepares, tapping into the kido web. Where Kazuki might have been struggling, Momoka provides a very efficient channeling of energy to fuel his spell, the patients being rapidly teleported out with the combined effort of the spell. The SSI wizard is panting a bit after the fact, but she stands without issue, looking up to the clash high above, analyzing the situation.

Meanwhile, Kusuma approaches Masaru, Shinji and the others, rolling his muscles. He does give a bit of a cold glare to Momoka, but it doesn't last long. "...so we have a foe who becomes stronger with stronger opposition. I can see why you would stop me from fighting. But that does not give us a solution. Could we simply not overwhelm him with a single assault?"

"...that would be a great risk without a guarantee of success, of which we cannot secure." Never mind that it would probably kill him, which Shinji would likely object to.

(The Sky)

Hollowtsuo roars as Naito and Ryouma attempt to tackle him, suddenly spinning with... seemingly no purpose. That is, until Naito gets within arm's length, or more appropriately, hair's length. The long strands of black hair just seem to harden as they swing in an arc directed at Naito, slicing with the hardness of a blade and bolstered by the boy's formidible strength.

Ryouma, meanwhile, gets targeted by a powerful kick as he tries to approach from behind, striking with a force that could collapse mountains.

[Kuroimaken]

[The Battle]
Katsuo's kick hurts like hell. Nevermind the force behind it, on a guy like Ryouma the effect is akin to being shot, since it has a smaller point of impact. It actually sends the giant reeling a bit backwards.

"Nnnngh. Damn... so this is what 'numb' feels like." It's true. Ryouma never got hit by a blunt attack fierce enough to make his body go numb from the impact.

He's still the kind of guy who gets more fired up when he sees he can get hurt. He's just weird that way.

"I'm liking you more and more, kid!"

He leaps up into the air, dashing down with Shunpou in an attempt to smash Katsuo against the ground. Hopefully, if this succeeds, the lack of a stance from which to launch his attacks will make him a bit easier to deal with...

_______________

[East Gate Hospital]

"I've... 'seen' you Shinigami try. It doesn't work." Kinda hard to explain again when Kusuma got here in the middle of it.

"I can think of one way. In my vision, even while he was like that, Katsuo still seemed to react to memories of his former life.
I think there's something, deep in his soulspace, that we can tap into to give him the strength to resist the infection. If we could find out what it is...


But for that, we need to find a way to dive into it."

"...I can think of a way. But there's no guarantee it will work.

My Bankai."

[Ammutseba]

Toil. If it hadn't been for the clock she kept in her bag, she would have had no idea how much time had passed in the Hive.

One day she spent on the mummies that Escabarajo had collected, atop an external balcony far removed from Laboratory Seven. She pressed the limits of her ability to fullbring at range, hidden behind a shield of stone and sand since the first one-- a comedic failure she had barely survived and taken days more to recover from. When pressed too far, or in the wrong way, these bodies made better explosives than they had ever made people. That was not Nuala's goal. She had gone through four different balconies before she could even control the direction of her failure.

Of course, she had learned quite a bit at the same time. Who would have guessed that parts of the soul itself, mere percentages, could be expended utterly as destructive force? Obvious in hindsight, naturally, but everything she had done before could be recovered with time or treatment.

It was time to ponder new sources of power.



The next day, she changed gears. On to understanding the master's notes about how to craft and create devices from raw souls and soulstuff. There was less to say and even less to watch about this process. Perhaps the least engaging of her activities, she could only thank the short and detailed nature of the work she read. That and the occasional half-mad raving or seemingly delirious rant. This writer was either a genius beyond his time or a lush too prone to scrawling his thoughts while deep in a bottle of whatever makes hollows drunk.

This task itself would take her dedicated days, and only become interesting when she appeared at the shoulder of the creator himself, overlooking his craft as he wrought into life the treatises contained. Most commonly, this was not a metaphor. Different from many other spiritual craftsmen, this "Von Geister" preferred to create living constructs for his needs and his servants. Honestly, she was amazed that he bothered to use paper at all. As advanced as his craft was, he could easily have stored these notes in insectoid things and transferred them in a way not so different from the method of the jigokucho.

There might be some merit in thoughts such as that.



The third day, she put into practice the theories that she had unearthed and developed in tandem with her research on these eldritch premises. Escarabajo and Saltamontes were indispensable to her efforts. They collected material from other "safe" laboratories for Nuala to tear down and remake into new spiritual curiosities. Invaluable to her needs were the so-called blight tumors, which was in reality a fantastical name for a ball of spongy spiritual lichen with an off-putting odor and great nutritive density. She had made the mistake of tasting the stuff only once, however.

Blight tumors could be easily broken down into base elements, precisely as they were designed. Once thus reduced, Nuala had limited difficulty in rearranging them into new things. Many were unsuccessful, and many more were useless, but each one taught her valuable new information about the field she now tried. Her greatest successes came not from copying Von Geister's work, but from basing her designs on existing creatures and improving them. Fitting for a fullbringer, she mused.

Thus it was for three days, and then three more. Then so forth, until she came to name the moon-facing balcony where her experiments with the cero palido victims took place, and she no longer needed to fear their sudden detonation. Until she had no notes left to read or to experience over the shoulder of their writer and she had begun to compile notes of her own. Until from fitful dreams she awoke, dashed excitedly to her journals, and recorded her latest mad epiphany.



Slowly her work took on a face of its own. Laboratory Seven was transformed. Few of its original tools remained, and many new ones were in place. Things better suited to Nuala's tastes and needs. She understood now what Clovis had meant when she arrived. That she was a kitten mewling at lions.

Her first true project was complete: the emerald bichir. The first fruit from her sapling tree of knowledge. Small, invisible and without physical presence, they were whiskered silver creatures that swam in reishi. They were not so different from fish, with highlights in their scales of rich forest green color. Their ghostly teeth sunk into her shoulder, forming a line, anchoring three bichirs to her spirit.

Strength and control. She was ready.



The wild-haired woman stood over the captain's body on Lunita Cinco. The shinigami lay on a bed of sand and stone, her arms and legs secured by glassy chains. All around her, urns filled with drúcht anam surrounded the bed. Nuala held both hands out, palms down, and drew on the emerald liquid, issuing it into the captain's body. Slowly, carefully, she pulled at the shinigami and the fire burning inside her, motions guided by the failures and successes of these past few weeks.

The drúcht anam burned quickly. She touched the curse of Von Geister, the cycle of eternity. Its motion was like the sea in arrest, waves always receding and approaching, the moon never setting, the sun never rising. Nuala touched the soul of the shinigami, and called to the sun.

"Good morning," Nuala spoke slowly, her voice heavy. "My name is Nuala Byrne. And yours?"

[Draken]

She lived her life in dedication to the Soul King, she led his army against the horrors of the night, she fought valiantly with the full expectation that, like so many others before, she would fall in battle against that ravenous host.

But she never knew death, rather, one final battle saw her still, staring down a verdant sun and feeling it scorch her flesh for the ten millenniums that followed. In between flashes of dull gray and the roar of flame, she sometimes heard noises she would rather not, and tried her best to scream with her parched, motionless, throat.

Days went by, weeks, years, centuries then. The background noises mingled together at the back of her mind, they became most of her memories. That and the flame burning within. Not the metaphor of her life, sadly no. An actual, odious spark within her every cell. What was that? Where did that word come from? What did it mean? She did not know.

And then, came a long period of quiet. No new sounds around her. Just silence and fire. And then one day it ended. There were voices again, smaller than usual, well, she remembered one, somewhat. Not that she knew what they said.

She felt motion for the first time in thousands of years. She was being moved. This did not matter, she had been moved at times.

She felt something... Oleous?

The flames shifted, they twisted and turned, and then they receded, and she could feel them leaking out of her pores. Her vision became less dominated by them, and she could hear.

"Good morning,"

A woman spoke to hear, clear, her eyes focused and a wild mane appeared, her fingers moved weakly, and she took her first breath in an eternity, deep, weak and ragged.

Nuala saw the mummy twitch only slightly, and a light appear within her dry eyes. From her shoulders and head came a green mist, which coalesced above her in a halo of sickly flames. The shriveling receded somewhat, so that the ancient corpse seemed merely someone inexplicably alive.

"My name is Nuala Byrne. And yours?"

There was a coarse, gritting sound. And then finally words.

"Koizumi... Chika... W-... who?"

Chika's question is cut short but a fit of feeble coughing.

[Ammutseba]

"Well that won't do," Nuala remarked sardonically, grimacing at her progress. Still, any progress at all was worth keeping, and Chika was the first one to survive the process. Not that she had been trying particularly hard with the last few. "So," she drawled, "Tha's a sticky little curse ya have on ya. Persistent."

Its very persistence was the nature of the problem, Nuala could sense that now, but she was not unprepared for this possibility. She waved her hand, and Saltamontes came forward with an opaque urn. She had tried to bleed the river, and though she met with this small success, it was its mouth that continued to issue this punishment.

The normal way to stem a river would be to overwhelm it with greater pressure, turn it back in on itself, and then dam its point of origin. That wasn't feasible here. With her supply of drúcht anam and the emerald bichirs, Nuala could manage it, but eventually the dam would break, and there would be hell to pay. She'd likely lose her investment in the process. Not an option.

But then, that was why she had prepared the urn. Just one of multiple contingencies for this procedure. Saltamontes lifted away the lid, and the fish within splashed in its watery prison.

Drúcht anam still burning about her, Nuala lifted her hands again. One by one, she pulled at the vents she had created in the lingering effects of the cero. She traced them back to the flame within Chika, and went further still, to the place within the woman that it was anchored to her.

Slowly and carefully, she separated the hooks of the cero palido from the shinigami and passed them on to the fish in the urn. A transfusion of terrible fortune. This soul-surgery went slowly, wary to stop and ready to reverse what had been done already, should the telltale signs of detonation appear.

[Dorizzit]

The Sky

Naito, well aware of how deadly the body of a Fullbringer is, recoils and goes fully defensive when Katsuo's hair comes at them. The razored hair cuts dozens of small lacerations across Naito's arms and chest, small injuries that leak black smoke before partially sealing to block off the flow. Naito pulls back and runs one hand across the small grooves the attack carved into one of their forearms.

Great.

Cracking their neck, Naito looks over at Chuck.

"You're the most fragile of us. Let us scope out what he can do and look for a weakness."

Chuck nods and pulls back to do just that. Naito, meanwhile, suspecting that Ryouma has vastly underestimated Katsuo's strength, waits for the moment of impact before going for Katsuo's knees in an attempt to buckle the rampaging Fullbringer.

[Draken]

Spoiler

Show

"Well that won't do," Nuala remarked sardonically, grimacing at her progress. Still, any progress at all was worth keeping, and Chika was the first one to survive the process. Not that she had been trying particularly hard with the last few. "So," she drawled, "Tha's a sticky little curse ya have on ya. Persistent."

Its very persistence was the nature of the problem, Nuala could sense that now, but she was not unprepared for this possibility. She waved her hand, and Saltamontes came forward with an opaque urn. She had tried to bleed the river, and though she met with this small success, it was its mouth that continued to issue this punishment.

The normal way to stem a river would be to overwhelm it with greater pressure, turn it back in on itself, and then dam its point of origin. That wasn't feasible here. With her supply of drúcht anam and the emerald bichirs, Nuala could manage it, but eventually the dam would break, and there would be hell to pay. She'd likely lose her investment in the process. Not an option.

But then, that was why she had prepared the urn. Just one of multiple contingencies for this procedure. Saltamontes lifted away the lid, and the fish within splashed in its watery prison.

Drúcht anam still burning about her, Nuala lifted her hands again. One by one, she pulled at the vents she had created in the lingering effects of the cero. She traced them back to the flame within Chika, and went further still, to the place within the woman that it was anchored to her.

Slowly and carefully, she separated the hooks of the cero palido from the shinigami and passed them on to the fish in the urn. A transfusion of terrible fortune. This soul-surgery went slowly, wary to stop and ready to reverse what had been done already, should the telltale signs of detonation appear.

"Blight... of the... Abomination..." - Chika pauses to wheeze, she's almost forgotten how to breathe and how it is needed for speech. But she is getting better, at talking weakly at least.

"You made it recede... I can feel... Shaman... How... Why... Ah-"

Nuala finds something inside Chika's blood vessels, and most of it accumulating in her heart... But she can't find a source, and it is certainly not pumping. Just a stale, liquid fire lingering in her circulatory system.

"Nothing we tried... Worked. Deathstone... did not suppress it. Healing... torture. Purification... useless. Purging... with demon arts... destruction. The only relief we found... was annihilation. What did you..."

[Ammutseba]

Nuala tsked at the shinigami with a quick shake of her head. "All dem methods fight t' change. I did na fight it, I made it work fa me, but it's na enough." And it was not enough. Even if Nuala were to continue venting out energy in this way, she'd only wind up with a less sickened Koizumi Chika. What was needed was something entirely different.

Nuala held up her hand for Saltamontes again, signalling the second contingency plan. He brought forth thick, bone white wrappings of some heavy cloth weave, and wrapped Chika in them. When he was finished, Nuala returned to her work. This was the work of a Hollow, and the energy itself might be Hollow-like enough for this to pass, but when she tried to mold the shape of it, there was nothing to grip. Like sand too fine to hold. The redhead took a breath, let it out slowly, and gave Saltamontes another signal. Expression pained, he began to unwrap their subject.

There was only one good idea Nuala had left. Certainly there were other options, but as with all things, the best way might be the longest. She signaled to Escarabajo, who brought more cups of drúcht anam, and began replacing the ones that had depleted while she returned to her labor. Her hands rested now on Chika's body. One at her forehead, the other at her solar plexus.

This would be a deeper kind of effort. As she had mentioned to Chika before, the key lay in not fighting against the effects of cero palido. She started with what she had already done-- working out runnels in the effect, giving it additional room to vent. The curse of the cero responded immediately: the halo of emerald flame grew, the mummification receded, and Chika's small movements became more fluid. This would stabilize the shinigami woman, but was now secondary to the fullbringer's goal.

With stabilization was in place, the real procedure began. Nuala worked deftly, burning through drúcht anam at a steady pace, pushing and pulling on this systemic cancer of the spirit with her fullbring, always in small portions. As the hours waned by, she dug her hooks into the lingering effect, giving root to her construct. Under the pale moon she stood in a half-trance, ever watched after by her personal arrancar while she tugged at the ink within the flame, building atop it what it could have been.

Once upon an eternity, it was ruination, and now it was more. Nuala had not silenced the curse, she had composed for it, laying function over the foundation and a new ending to its litany. Not ruin, but strength.

Nuala took a step back, looking at the woman for what felt like the first time in days. "How ya feelin, gyal?" she inquired, exhaustion plain on her voice.

[Hawkflight]

Remember that explosion everybody was talking about? Yeah, that's when it happened.

"I suppose, but we won't be able to stay long."

"Yay!" Suguri cheered, hopping up and down.

[Kuroimaken]

"Now let's go get you some new clothes, and a shower."

[Hawkflight]

"Now let's go get you some new clothes, and a shower."

"Okay!" Suguri chirped, following him back to the mansion.

[Kuroimaken]

By the time they're back, some of the maids are already on hand with a few sample changes of clothing. Katsurou thinks a bit aloud. "We should at least trim a bit of that fur, or you're going to get terribly itchy."

[Draken]

Spoiler

Show

Nuala tsked at the shinigami with a quick shake of her head. "All dem methods fight t' change. I did na fight it, I made it work fa me, but it's na enough." And it was not enough. Even if Nuala were to continue venting out energy in this way, she'd only wind up with a less sickened Koizumi Chika. What was needed was something entirely different.

Nuala held up her hand for Saltamontes again, signalling the second contingency plan. He brought forth thick, bone white wrappings of some heavy cloth weave, and wrapped Chika in them. When he was finished, Nuala returned to her work. This was the work of a Hollow, and the energy itself might be Hollow-like enough for this to pass, but when she tried to mold the shape of it, there was nothing to grip. Like sand too fine to hold. The redhead took a breath, let it out slowly, and gave Saltamontes another signal. Expression pained, he began to unwrap their subject.

There was only one good idea Nuala had left. Certainly there were other options, but as with all things, the best way might be the longest. She signaled to Escarabajo, who brought more cups of drúcht anam, and began replacing the ones that had depleted while she returned to her labor. Her hands rested now on Chika's body. One at her forehead, the other at her solar plexus.

This would be a deeper kind of effort. As she had mentioned to Chika before, the key lay in not fighting against the effects of cero palido. She started with what she had already done-- working out runnels in the effect, giving it additional room to vent. The curse of the cero responded immediately: the halo of emerald flame grew, the mummification receded, and Chika's small movements became more fluid. This would stabilize the shinigami woman, but was now secondary to the fullbringer's goal.

With stabilization was in place, the real procedure began. Nuala worked deftly, burning through drúcht anam at a steady pace, pushing and pulling on this systemic cancer of the spirit with her fullbring, always in small portions. As the hours waned by, she dug her hooks into the lingering effect, giving root to her construct. Under the pale moon she stood in a half-trance, ever watched after by her personal arrancar while she tugged at the ink within the flame, building atop it what it could have been.

Once upon an eternity, it was ruination, and now it was more. Nuala had not silenced the curse, she had composed for it, laying function over the foundation and a new ending to its litany. Not ruin, but strength.

Nuala took a step back, looking at the woman for what felt like the first time in days. "How ya feelin, gyal?" she inquired, exhaustion plain on her voice.

Chika breathes weakly and wheezes an answer to Nuala's initial statement.

"Must... fight... the monster."

And then Chika noticed the flames around her growing brighter.

"What... are you... do-"

She lost her needless breath, and a rattling of distant chains echoed through the halls, followed by the distant mewling of caged horrors deep within the Hive. Her hands curled into fists and stretched out again, clutching the edges of vat with feeble, but growing, might. Her skin cracked and the muscles within stretched out, and the bones beneath pierced through as they grew.

She could not breath in and she could not scream. Her eyes had no irises and could not dilate. All she could do was stretch her lids and clench her teeth. This pain was new. The pain of growth. The pain of renewal.

Her form stretched and bloated and withered, swelling twice and then thrice the heights and lengths of human form. On her back, her arms and her scalp, the toxic mist was vented and ignited in the air, with a tensing of malformed muscles it was forced out with greater pressure and again she gritted her teeth as the fleeing poison gave room to better growth. Tissues covered her outstretched skeleton and hideous leather came to ward her pained flesh from the cold, dry air.

She no longer felt too weak to even stand.

Koizumi Chika hefted her newfound bulk from the alchemical vat, tall, lean and muscular, with her feminine charms exposed to the horror and disgust of all present to witness.

Sunken eyes stared at her enormous hands, fists opening and closing in tests of long lost motion.

"..."

She reached across her skin, grimacing as her palms covered the poison vents on her back and she felt a burning outside and an itch within.

"..."

Her brows furrowed, her eyes narrowed.

"Who are you, Nuala Byrne?"

Chika stood hunched and with her overly long limbs bent to almost match the height of Nuala's eyes. A hint of hostility in her voice, if not in her movements.

[Ammutseba]

Nuala set her jaw in witness to the transformation of the woman in front of her. It was going all wrong, but she was unable to stop it. If she had, her failure would have cascaded, and Chika would be lost forever. Not to mention, she would detonate. As Chika began to climb out of the drucht anam reservoir, Nuala closed her eyes in frustration, letting out a breath. "Clothes fa da lady," she said, knowing that her assistants would scramble themselves to find or make what she requested. They did, disappearing through the door to the balcony with the haste of a certain fear. Not for Nuala, but this was clearly a private moment, and they were intruding on it.

She ran her hands through her hair, messing it up as she did, fingers lacing through the locks as if searching for something. The bone beads jangled against one another, and she took off the hollow mask she'd been using, revealing her face. She had been sweating heavily. Her skin glistened in the moonlight. She took the mask in her left hand; the Quincy bangle on her wrist jingled quietly against it. She finally took another breath, looking up into Chika's eyes, blinking slowly. Her frustration was evident. The disappointment in herself, less so.

Despite this, she found the strength to stand up straight. "Agent a Nonessentia, a place fa fullbringas an' tha alone. What ye people used ta call shamans, but we ain't na ma. Researcha, anna vera frustrated un. Dis na cure, I shoulda done betta. I'm sarie." She cast her eyes down at the end, still trying to figure out exactly where she had gone wrong.

Of course the curse had done as she directed it, but this wasn't... she didn't want to mutate Chika. Did the answer lie in further research, or was her technique wrong? Whatever it was, she was too tired to do anything about it now. She would have to accept Chika's judgment.

[Draken]

Chika's brow furrows further, she raises her hand and stares at it, finally bringing it to her own face to rub her eyes for a moment.

"I'm sure you mean well, mortal. And it is impressive already that you could achieve this much. None have ever done anything to the Ghost King's work but destroy it."

Well, scant few ever tried anything else, but the point stands. Chika soon brings her hand back down and takes a look around.

"This is the Dead World... I can only feel a smattering of minor of hollows besides your slaves, it is surprisingly empty. Almost feels serene."

"How did you come to this forsaken place? And why? I know not how long it has been, but I know it has been generations, even by the standards of spirits. You did not come here for me."

[Ammutseba]

"I was brought hya," Nuala answered, simply at first. She paused, but whatever hesitation she had she dismissed. "Fa Nonessentia, I seek out books an knowledge on tha spirit world. I came t' Hueco Mundo by way o' gate by a dealer in Dubai, but I arrived in tha desert first, an then found mah way t' Las Noches. In tha library tha, I met Clovis, tha Ghost King's jester, and he brought me hya." She took a moment to pause, and found herself a place to sit. She was still beating herself up on the inside, still harping on about her inability to keep Chika's body intact. This would bother her for a great time to come.

"Overfore ye're alarmed, I na he's dangerous," she said, slightly defensively, holding up her hands with palms open to show she meant to harm, and to stop short any interjection. "Duplicitous, powerful. I dunna na why 'e brought me, I dun buy him wantin t' help me, lessen he na samtin I dun. I came s' I could learn how t' make zanpakuto, or ratha samtin like 'em. Nonessentia fights Hollows-- we need weapons what can bring 'em harm and na destroy tha souls. I been studyin what tha Ghost King left overhind, an when I discovered ye lot... tried t' cure what he done t' ya. I dunna think I wish t' try again, tha. Not until I na more, and get some sleep."

[Draken]

"So this is the Hive, and the other hollow I feel in the depths is that conniving trickster. Many mortals have been waylaid by the debauched creature, and I know it takes some kind of twisted pleasure in creating shamans... Fullbringers."

Chika looks down at her clenched fist.

"I don't think I have the strength to defeat it..." And then, she sees her old zanpakuto, and reaches for it.

"Silent..."

She offers it to Nuala.

"If you want to learn about zanpakuto, you may have this one. Our link has been severed and I would rather not have the reminder. Mortals shouldn't have to fight hollows, but the battles always found their way to your kind."

More and more, her voice sounds morose.

[Ammutseba]

Nuala perked her brows, looking down at the weapon. This was the second time she'd been offered a zanpakuto, but the first time it had been from a real Shinigami. Without thinking, she stood up from her seat and took a step forward, humbled. She knew what a zanpakuto meant to a Shinigami of the modern age... she could only imagine what it meant to the one before her, but a zanpakuto was a reflection of the soul.

She ran her fingers through her hair again. That connection... Nuala's expression was pained with sadness for Chika, but her demeanor did not quite break. "I accept," she said at last, taking the sword in hand. "I'll treat it well." She took a few moments to examine the sword, then slung it around her shoulder, so that its sheath was parallel with her other one.

She nearly apologized again, but she had conveyed her feelings about Chika's predicament once already. Now was a better time to do something about it. "If'n ye like, ye welcome with Nonessentia. We can getcha a gigai an ye'll fit right in. Tha tea's tha best ye'll find in Ireland, ta."

[strawberryman]

[Soul Society]
(East Gate Hospital Courtyard)

Momoka shakes her head, looking back to the group. "...we cannot risk empowering him further. I have not seen it directly, but your bankai is fueled by reiatsu, is it not?" She sighs.

Kusuma rubs his temple for a moment before opening his eyes with a fierce countenance. "...we can't let this child run rampant. I've had enough of this discussion. I am going to harness the Sokyoku. If you can't find a solution before then, I'm afraid that shall be the end of it. It will take me time to charge it with the correct rituals, and that is all the time I can offer." Momoka moves to object, but Kusuma is already gone in a flash.

She groans a bit, knowing it would not go well to try and stop him. Just more wasted time. "...Kuzunoha-san, is there anything you or your allies can do? We cannot do anything externally, what of solving the problem internally?"

(The Sky)

With the breath in combat, Hollowtsuo turns to face Naito before Ryouma even touches him, throwing forward one of his fists - the one with a cero still held in its grasp. It's common sense what happens next - the energy is released, a cutting blackness that pierces the air with a deafening roar and buzz of energy currents.

Ryouma, meanwhile, gets to contend with the fact that his descent is blocked by a sudden springing of spear-like protrusions of hair from the boy's head. He could probably still manage his attack, but it's going to hurt.

[Kuroimaken]

[At the hospital]

"...if we can hold him down long enough, Chuck and I can dive into his soulspace and try to root out the cause for this transformation. We'd be vulnerable in the meantime, though." He didn't like this plan, not because he was afraid of the consequences, but because he wasn't sure that was a permanent solution. There had to be some kind of trigger for this. "Did you glimpse anything before he transformed?"

"The reason it might not work is because I need to have some idea of what kind of mind I'm getting into. That's the only reason I'm even suggesting it." Setsurou replied. "I'm gonna shadow Kusuma. If my guess is right, the Commander is on his way here already and he'll object to using the Soukyoku even under these circumstances. He may need the extra time."

___________________

[At the battle]

Ryouma can actually reach some decent top speed for a guy his size. His Shunpou is self-taught, but his classes have helped refine it somewhat. Unfortunately, he doesn't really have good brakes.

It helps that his skin is thick. And that he's nuts.

Instead of trying to force his way down, he grabs onto the spear-like strands of hair and pulls Katsuo towards him after they've given him a couple dozen impromptu acupunctures.

[Draken]

Nuala perked her brows, looking down at the weapon. This was the second time she'd been offered a zanpakuto, but the first time it had been from a real Shinigami. Without thinking, she stood up from her seat and took a step forward, humbled. She knew what a zanpakuto meant to a Shinigami of the modern age... she could only imagine what it meant to the one before her, but a zanpakuto was a reflection of the soul.

She ran her fingers through her hair again. That connection... Nuala's expression was pained with sadness for Chika, but her demeanor did not quite break. "I accept," she said at last, taking the sword in hand. "I'll treat it well." She took a few moments to examine the sword, then slung it around her shoulder, so that its sheath was parallel with her other one.

She nearly apologized again, but she had conveyed her feelings about Chika's predicament once already. Now was a better time to do something about it. "If'n ye like, ye welcome with Nonessentia. We can getcha a gigai an ye'll fit right in. Tha tea's tha best ye'll find in Ireland, ta."

Chika considers the proposal for a moment.

"I accept. I have no knowledge of what the world has become while I languished in this place,
and as it is I have no place in Soul Society anymore, maybe I can at least provide you and yours with some advice."

By now the two hollows will have returned with piles of fine silks, thick cotton and sheets of linen. In a different place, these would be tattered by the ages, but there is nothing to rot things away here, so they are only dusty. She throws them over herself.

"My first advice is that we should leave before the jester is done."

[Ammutseba]

[Hueco Mundo]
(The Hive)

Nuala raised her brows at Chika, in equal parts surprised and not that she would suggest quitting this place so quickly, but the young woman had no rebuttal for the shinigami's advice, and no desire to slight her at this time. Besides which, it was best not to leave Peadar alone with the shop for too long. He was a competent man, but overly fond of the brawl for a place that supposedly served tea and serenity.

She lead them back to the laboratory and gathered up her impromptu desk space and its associated minutiae. Notes, journals, baubles, blight tumors, vials, fish, urns, desk chair, clock... everything went into the snow white messenger bag slung around her body. Once it seemed she had taken a good quarter of Laboratory Seven with her, she took out a note card and set it on the table that had been her desk these past few weeks. She put her fingers to the page.

At once there was a flash of light and smoke. The words of her note were burned into the page, wrought into place by a high-precision application of her fullbring. She thanked him for his assistance and time, informed him that she had responsibilities in the mortal world, and signed it by name. She looked up. A lidded clay urn sat on the table.

Her final contingency for this so-called Hive. "Prepare yaselves," she instructed her small entourage. "I dun travel by Void na Senkaimon." She lifted the lid from the urn, and out poured a school of tiny, bright crimson and royal blue pupfish, each no longer than three inches. The school swam about in the air for several seconds, surrounding Nuala, Chika, Escarabajo and Saltamontes. One came to rest in Nuala's hand, and the two seemed to share a moment.

Then, the school moved as one, darting through space and its fabric. They cut a slit through time, and opened the laboratory onto the Dangai. "Dis way. Stay close," she told them. In moments they were gone. The last of the pupfish disappeared into the space between seconds behind them.

[Dorizzit]

Spoiler

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[Soul Society]
(East Gate Hospital Courtyard)

Momoka shakes her head, looking back to the group. "...we cannot risk empowering him further. I have not seen it directly, but your bankai is fueled by reiatsu, is it not?" She sighs.

Kusuma rubs his temple for a moment before opening his eyes with a fierce countenance. "...we can't let this child run rampant. I've had enough of this discussion. I am going to harness the Sokyoku. If you can't find a solution before then, I'm afraid that shall be the end of it. It will take me time to charge it with the correct rituals, and that is all the time I can offer." Momoka moves to object, but Kusuma is already gone in a flash.

She groans a bit, knowing it would not go well to try and stop him. Just more wasted time. "...Kuzunoha-san, is there anything you or your allies can do? We cannot do anything externally, what of solving the problem internally?"

(The Sky)

With the breath in combat, Hollowtsuo turns to face Naito before Ryouma even touches him, throwing forward one of his fists - the one with a cero still held in its grasp. It's common sense what happens next - the energy is released, a cutting blackness that pierces the air with a deafening roar and buzz of energy currents.

Ryouma, meanwhile, gets to contend with the fact that his descent is blocked by a sudden springing of spear-like protrusions of hair from the boy's head. He could probably still manage his attack, but it's going to hurt.

[Seireitei]
The Sky

Naito realizes what's going to happen a second before it does.

Aw, f***.

Rather than try to resist the blast, Naito curls into a ball and flares their Reiatsu, each slightly reducing the impact of the Cero before Naito is carried away and slammed into the ground by the explosion. When the dust clears, Naito is already rising to their feet. Although clearly in quite a bit of pain, Naito manages to avoid taking critical damage from the attack. Naito's mouth curls into a growl.

How do I fight the strongest person I've ever seen into without hurting him?

Lacking a good answer, Naito gathers power for a moment before launching back into the fight, aiming to shoulder-check Hollowtsuo and try to knock the wind out of him.

Spoiler

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[Soul Society; East Gate Hospital]

Before Hollowfied Katsuo compromised foundations of the entire structure, the evacuation was going about as well as it could. Sure, a powerfull Hollow appearing in the middle of a hospital area was bad, but it was something the staff were expecting. They were prepared. They were going about it all very organized and professional-like.

The entire thing collapsing was slightly less expected. Despite best efforts from Kazuki, Alpha-1 and all, things have grown quite hectic. Amidst the destruction, a worried academy instructor is wondering where one of his recruits vanished...

Meanwhile, a freezer unit that was standing just outside the hospital has tilted and is sliding into a depression caused by a quake from the collapsing hospital. A certain magenta-haired girl looks at it, then runs around it and towards Alpha-1. "Hey! Queensie Lady!", she shouts, trying to get her attention, while pointing at the freezer. "I think there's someone there! Can you lend me a hand?"

The Hospital

Aoi, still heavily focused on her efforts with the main building, doesn't even look at the student. The girl can see the map in front of Aoi mimicking the building in real time, with Aoi's directed repairs on the map being mirrored in reality thanks to the Quincy's Sklaverei.

"Acknowledged."

Rather than use the map, Aoi extends one arm to the side. A hook attached to a chain fires out of the air in front of Aoi's hand, launching forward at great speed and quickly wrapping around the freezer unit to secure it. Aoi, still not looking away, makes a pulling motion that yanks the freezer unit over next to the two. While the trip was most likely unpleasant for anyone inside, it wasn't fatal.

"Confirm door operability."

A tersely worded command, but one without any hostility behind it.

[Frozen_Feet]

"Oh, for sure." The bright-haired student yanks the door of the freezer unit open, slamming it to the side. Inside, there is a single humanoid Hollow, suspended from steel chains. It's missing both of its arms. It's in really bad shape - it's likely the cold was the only thing keeping it alive, for some dubious measure of alive. Now that the freezer is open, that's not going to hold for very long.

The student points inside the freezer and looks at Aoi. "Queensie girl! You're so goos fixing buildings, could you maybe fix that thing's arms?"

[KnightDisciple]

Rin looks in the direction of the fight, just long enough make the meaning of her next sentence unambiguous.

"It is not our duty to defend this place. There are others to do so. We must maintain focus."

She turns back to look at Masamune.

"I agree that we should emphasize more...communication in the future. At the very least, it would seem that some among use need to be provided with a better idea of when and where it is appropriate to release their Bankai."

"Ideally, full-on regular interaction will not be necessary, but given the unusual circumstances the soul society finds itself in, keeping a member of the Royal Guard actively involved for the time being may be prudent. We should...consult...with the Soul King first, however. If we determine such to be a prudent course of action, I would be honored to assume that role. At the very least, I will need to assist the Soul Society in undoing the damage they caused by 'fixing' my override of the Senkaimon. The bypass was clever, but should be undone sooner rather than later."

She collects her thoughts.

"We appear to be in agreement on how to progress with Koutarou. Punishment and progress must come at the same time in order to halt some of the negative momentum building up and redirect the flow of action into a more constructive direction. We will not be popular, but I am willing to accept 'unfortunate necessity' if that is what it takes to realign the Soul Society."

"As for the punishment itself, I would like for us to publicly remove Koutarou's non-dominant hand or arm. To do so, we will need his willing submission; the goal would be to execute the punishment without needing to restrain him, showing that he was willingly accepting his wrongdoing and working with us to move forward. As such, I would like to warn and convince him about this ahead of time. Additionally, from a practical perspective, it will keep Koutarou active with minimal interruption while still keeping the appearance and impact of a harsher punishment. With modern Kaidō and prosthetics, he could be back to full effectiveness within 24 hours. Less if he has a prosthetic prepared ahead of time. If necessary to convince him, we can also offer him the option of having his arm regrown after a trial period; such treatments aren't widely available and are horrendously painful, but not outside of the SSI's capabilities."

Masamune thinks, then nods.

"I think your proposal about the communication frequency and arrangement is reasonable, but, yes, we will need to consult the King.

As for Commander Koutarou's punishment, I think this is an eminently reasonable route. I think that actually taking his hand and perhaps half of his forearm is reasonable. The Captain of the...Combat...Division seems to deal well with an entire cybernetic arm. Taking less than he lost from Koutarou might ease the impact, and the promise of regrowth ought to soften the blow long-term as well."

He smirked.

"The Commander doesn't strike me as the sort to be bothered by the prospect of pain."
----------------------------------------------------------------

The Sky

Naito, well aware of how deadly the body of a Fullbringer is, recoils and goes fully defensive when Katsuo's hair comes at them. The razored hair cuts dozens of small lacerations across Naito's arms and chest, small injuries that leak black smoke before partially sealing to block off the flow. Naito pulls back and runs one hand across the small grooves the attack carved into one of their forearms.

Great.

Cracking their neck, Naito looks over at Chuck.

"You're the most fragile of us. Let us scope out what he can do and look for a weakness."

Chuck nods and pulls back to do just that. Naito, meanwhile, suspecting that Ryouma has vastly underestimated Katsuo's strength, waits for the moment of impact before going for Katsuo's knees in an attempt to buckle the rampaging Fullbringer.

(The Sky)

With the breath in combat, Hollowtsuo turns to face Naito before Ryouma even touches him, throwing forward one of his fists - the one with a cero still held in its grasp. It's common sense what happens next - the energy is released, a cutting blackness that pierces the air with a deafening roar and buzz of energy currents.

Ryouma, meanwhile, gets to contend with the fact that his descent is blocked by a sudden springing of spear-like protrusions of hair from the boy's head. He could probably still manage his attack, but it's going to hurt.

___________________

[At the battle]

Ryouma can actually reach some decent top speed for a guy his size. His Shunpou is self-taught, but his classes have helped refine it somewhat. Unfortunately, he doesn't really have good brakes.

It helps that his skin is thick. And that he's nuts.

Instead of trying to force his way down, he grabs onto the spear-like strands of hair and pulls Katsuo towards him after they've given him a couple dozen impromptu acupunctures.

[Seireitei]
The Sky

Naito realizes what's going to happen a second before it does.

Aw, f***.

Rather than try to resist the blast, Naito curls into a ball and flares their Reiatsu, each slightly reducing the impact of the Cero before Naito is carried away and slammed into the ground by the explosion. When the dust clears, Naito is already rising to their feet. Although clearly in quite a bit of pain, Naito manages to avoid taking critical damage from the attack. Naito's mouth curls into a growl.

How do I fight the strongest person I've ever seen into without hurting him?

Lacking a good answer, Naito gathers power for a moment before launching back into the fight, aiming to shoulder-check Hollowtsuo and try to knock the wind out of him.

Chuck, meanwhile, has mostly been peppering Hollow-Katsuo with moderate-strength blasts, mostly to distract it, him, as much as possible at critical moments. The soul-dive isn't quite ready yet, or he'd have already started it.

'Hurry the **** up, Shinji...' he thought angrily to himself, hating that he was fighting a dear friend like this...

[strawberryman]

[Soul Society]
(The Sky)

It's unlikely that Naito is familiar with the sensation of tackling a mountain's worth of strength. But on the upside, now they are. Clashing with Hollowtsuo, one cannot be sure that they wouldn't shatter instead in the process, and yet... Naito's strategy works. The titan's chest hitches as those three - Ryouma, Naito, and Hollowtsuo - plummet towards the ground. At the last second, the maddened teenager does regain enough faculty to attempt to grab onto Naito and slam them into the ground.

[Dorizzit]

[Soul Society]
Sky -> Ground

Naito seems almost surprised that the desperate attack worked.

This is going a little too-

Katsuo then grabs Naito and slams them into the ground, putting them on the receiving end of their own attack.

There it goes.

Luckily for Naito, the ground is considerably softer than their armor, so they aren't terribly hurt by the attack. They are, however, pinned under Katsuo for the moment, and that's not the most ideal position to be in by a wide margin.

Hospital

Aoi still hasn't, technically, looked at the Hollow. Or the student, for that matter.

"Medical capabilities limited. Find doctor."

She's still putting her primary focus on the map. Having determined the collapse of the building to be inevitable, Aoi has shifted her focus to facilitating evacuation efforts by opening pathways and temporarily stabilizing sections of the structure to allow rescuers easier movement.

Command HQ

Rin huffs, ever so slightly.

"I should hope not. If he was averse to the concept of pain, he would hardly be suitable in his current role. The commander of a military organization must be prepared at all times to fight, and even die for their cause."

She takes a deep breath.

"Very well. I will begin the preparations for a divination to contact the Soul King. I see no reason to delay by returning for questions as simple as this."

[Kuroimaken]

[The Hospital Battlefield]

Shinji's mind races through his options.

While he can feel the leylines here, something feels off about using his spells in Soul Society. It'd be risky on the best of days, and he has no time for experiments. A barrier would just ensure his friends have no reinforcements while Katsuo rages on. Summons would probably get dispelled easily, and the battlefield is crowded enough as is. Attack spells are similarly out of the question with his friends possibly in the line of fire. Seals are unlikely to work. That only leaves his enhancement spells, but--

--wait. That's it.

"HEY BIG GUY! I NEED YOU TO LET LOOSE YOUR REIATSU LIKE CRAZY!!"

Ryouma doesn't understand why this kid is shouting at him, but he looks smart enough to have a plan.

"Sure kid. It's your funeral."

"Kuzunoha Ryuu Rikijutsu Ippou: Kuma! Nippou: Zou!*"

A faint red outline of power surrounds Ryouma. Having not landed underneath Katsuo, he's in prime position to pry the boy off Naito. At Shinji's behest, the giant unleashes as much of his cold Reiatsu as he can. This gradually freezes the lance-like hairs impaling him and shatters them off his body. When he reaches for Katsuo, the rampaging Hollowling will undoubtedly notice that the big guy is a LOT stronger than he was before.

"I get it. If Katsuo is too busy absorbing Ryouma's Reiatsu, then those spells are going to wear off more slowly. It's a battle of attrition, but that will give us a little more time."

"Chuck! DO IT NOW!"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Kuzunoha Style Empowerment Art: First Step, Bear. Second Step: Elephant.

[KnightDisciple]

Command HQ

Rin huffs, ever so slightly.

"I should hope not. If he was averse to the concept of pain, he would hardly be suitable in his current role. The commander of a military organization must be prepared at all times to fight, and even die for their cause."

She takes a deep breath.

"Very well. I will begin the preparations for a divination to contact the Soul King. I see no reason to delay by returning for questions as simple as this."

Masamune just chuckles and shrugs at the huff. He hides a smile behind his teacup. At her mention of communing with the Soul King, his face becomes pensive, and he gives her a simple, sharp nod.

He's clearly lost in thought, the liquid of his tea swirling a bit. Rin knows he gets like this sometimes, and she could leave without disturbing him for the moment.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Chuck! DO IT NOW!"

Chuck takes that very moment to charge himself with as much energy as he can stuff into his being in a few moments (leaving large divots in the ground that were uncannily smooth), before diving forward in a blaze of light. As he got closer to Katsuo, he seemed to become less substantial.

When he slammed into the mostly-Hollowified boy, he didn't budge him so much as a micron, and instead seemed to disappear inside of him...

[strawberryman]

[Soul Society]
(Outside the Hospital)

"Wait-" Momoka reacts immediately to Shinji's stratagem, but by the time she's raised her hands it's already gone through, and she turns more pensive. "...it is true it may be the only option we have outside the Sokyoku. We must begin preparations for evacuation in case it fails, however."

Hollowtsuo responds remarkably fast, so it does seem he doesn't need to dedicate as much conscious thought towards absorbing reiatsu, but at the very least he's occupied. For Ryouma, however, this means the hollowling is charging a response cero... before being submerged into by Chuck. This prompts an early discharge, but... the destruction is still nothing to balk at, energy cascading outward in Ryouma's general vicinity and outward.

Spoiler

Show

"I'll give you points for determination."

Chuck comes to at the foot of the same odd landscape, drawn in ink and having a blank texture to it like parchment. But... it's no longer a verdant forest, but a wasteland, charred and black, with boiling black puddles of ink. And right now he's in front of a throne, made from the remnants of the trees twisted into something perverse and ugly. Branches stretch upward from the top of the throne, and upon that, bound in ropes of thorn is Katsuo, hanging limply with his head hanging down and a familiar, growing hole through his heart.

Upon the throne itself... sits Felicia. Who is giving Chuck a catlike grin about now. "But unfortunately for you... it's over. This is your armageddon. The end of everything you, the shinigami, and anyone who opposes my daddy finds dear. And it's all about to be destroyed by your friend."