Nayumi looked up to the ceiling of the abandoned warehouse, noting that the heavy support beams above were spotted with rust, having been subject to the elements over the years due to multiple holes in the ceiling, which the roof itself had not fared well in the days it had gone unattended to. Nayumi felt a sense of melancholy, feeling a strange kindred-ship with the dilapidated building. Her Mod-Soul pill was damaged, possibly beyond repair. She was unable to leave this body, although she didn't really want to. It would be left as a soulless husk if she did. And while her family wasn't originally her's, she felt that they had been kind enough to her during her 'amnesia'. She didn't really want to put them through the trauma of losing their daughter a second time.
Nayumi's train of thought would be derailed by a loud voice emanating seemingly out of nowhere. The voice called themselves Earth's new ruler, and stated that her name was Dhuma. Not only that, but the other realms were being assigned new rulers as well. This wasn't good at all. Nayumi was not battle ready, and now it seemed she wasn't going to have a choice in the matter. She'd have to fight, or die. Dhuma wanted everyone to get off of Earth, or as she called it, 'her property'. She gave them five days to leave Earth. Not only that, she was going to shut down all travel to and from? That would cause a backup of souls and the birth of a multitude of Hollows! And to put the cherry on top, she'd turn this world to ash if people were still here! Nayumi's hand had gone up in front of her mouth in shock as she listened to Dhuma's address to the Earth. Not only that, but she was sure that the denizens of Earth could hear as well. Mass panic was sure to enuse. It looked like the Elemental Senshi would be needed sooner than she had hoped.
Apparently, the whole trigger for this event was the misplaced elves and magi. What had happened to Alfheim? Was it destroyed? No doubt by those that now sought to exert their will on this world. The Humans that lived here did not deserve this swift judgement on them. Those that sought to take from them just because they had been taken from, it was unfair! Nayumi's body shook, whether it was from fear, anger, frustration, or a combination, she did not know.
Taking a deep breath, Nayumi attempted to calm herself, but it would be for naught as she heard an explosion off in the distance, one of great magnitude. The shockwave that followed knocked her off of her feet. She could feel it even though it originated from far away. Once the dust had settled, Nayumi scrambled to her feet and quickly pulled out her cellphone, almost fumbling it out of her hands before getting a grasp on it. With shaky fingers, Nayumi accessed social media to see what was going on. Her heart sank when she saw the various messages flooding in.
'Karakura Destroyed'. 'Karakura Blown Up'. 'Karakura Crater'. The young girl couldn't help but to fall to her knees, clutching her phone to her chest. Her home, her family, they were all in Karakura. And now it was all gone. Everything was gone. Tears streamed down Nayumi's face as she sobbed quietly. It was just like a year ago, losing everything over again.
[Word Count: 579 x 3 = 1737 + 2526 = 4263]
"...your light just has to shine brighter!"
Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2020 1:53 pm
Izumi Hayashi [ HP: 200 | SE: 75 | Clarity: 15 ]
Luckily Izumi had skipped school that day, but her phone went off with a buzz as a notification popped up 'Karakura Town destroyed in a flash'.. that certainly explained the quake that shook her from her nap in a tree. Well.. actually that was the landing that woke her, still it was a rude awaking either way. Since their school, and Nayumi's home, was within the city that had just been wiped from the face of the planet. "Let her be here... or I swear..." The long legged teenage girl used that stride to speed to their secret hangout, an old abandoned warehouse that the friends had set up. Her shoes sliding across the graveled asphalt. "Nayumi! Nayumi!" She yells where scurrying towards their warehouse. Shouldering the steel door open, she finds her blue haired friend sitting with her knees to her chest. The slightly older girl runs over and wraps her up in her arms.. letting Nayumi rest her face against her bust. "I am so glad you are here..." Izumi taking her time to stroke her soft, blue locks and cry with her. This wasn't the time though, as they wept over their losses. "Sweetie, lets stop this from happening again... stop them from hurting anyone else." She leans in and kissing Nayumi's soft, sweet lips, while taking the cell phone from her fingers instead slipping in her old transformation stick. "Lets become Rai and Mizu. Lets stop this monster from attacking others and harming anymore." Izumi helps the cutie to her feet with a wide grin, "Rai needs you, I need you, as Mizu you can stop the hurting."
Nayumi continued to sob on the floor of the old, abandoned warehouse, the young student trying and failing at holding back her tears, on the verge of breaking into uncontrolled crying. However, she would be stopped by faint yelling in the distance. "That voice..." It would be another few seconds as she looked towards the closed doors over at the side of the run down structure. Nayumi jumped a bit as the heavy steel doors burst open, a tall, brunette beauty having just used her shoulder as a battering ram to open the door.
Nayumi's heart leapt as she saw her friend practically cascade like a waterfall through the doors. The scene was almost in slow motion as Izumi's hair flowed around her face, framing the beauty in an almost celestial light. She rushed her way over to the blue haired girl and practically pulled Nayumi's face into a smother with her bust. Nayumi was able to keep it together long enough to listen to what Izumi had to say, before she was met with a light, soft kiss. Nayumi's mind was all over the place, so much that she didn't notice her cellphone being replaced with a strange looking pen. Again, Izumi spoke, and it just caused Nayumi's head to spin more. "Rai? Mizu? I don't..." Memories assaulted Nayumi. She darted her free hand up to her head as she remembered some of her time from before her amnesia. "Ele...mental...Senshi?" Her eyes darted open and she looked at Izumi. "I...think I remember...some...and...I remember...how this works." She held up her Transformation Pen. It had been a year since she had last held the item. She was Elemental Senshi Mizu. Created to help protect Earth from emerging Hollow threats. However, she didn't have time to explore that any more right now. Izumi was right. They had innocent people to save. "I don't completely remember, but I will follow your lead." She stared into Izumi's eyes, love and confusion being her primary emotions.
There was no further time to waste and Izumi knew it as she stood and lifted her girlfriend to her feet. "Now raise the pen to the air and call on the power of your element." She instructed as she took a few steps back and raises her pen to the roof of the warehouse, "Rai Power Make-Up!" Upon calling on her powers, light surrounds Izumi and soon after stands the senshi of lightning and nature. She posed rather cutely pointing to Nayumi, "It is your turn, Nayumi-chan. Revive the power of Mizu... and lets protect those that can't protect themselves." She offers her hand to the other teen and smiles widely as her brilliant green eyes sparkling with power as their gaze danced up her form till looking into her lovely, crystal blue eyes.
Nayumi watched in awe as Izumi transformed before her very eyes, the light enveloping the tall brunette, forming the shape of her Senshi uniform before solidifying. Once she was fully transformed, she had instructed the smaller, blue-haired young woman to transform herself. She both knew how, and had the tool to transform with. It was almost second nature. This was something her soul had done many times before, but it was the first time in this body. Would it work for her? There was only one way to find out.
Raising her Transformation Pen into the air, Nayumi shouted "Mizu Power Make-Up!" Spinning her pin in a wide circle, water emanated from the tip of her Transformation Pen, which quickly turned into light and did much the same as it did for Senshi Rai. The light formed into the shape of Mizu's Senshi uniform before solidifying into the garments. She had worn this uniform before. She knew this, but it still seemed somewhat awkward. Despite this, Senshi Mizu posed cutely to mirror Senshi Rai, but her expression was serious. "Lead the way. We must punish those who have wronged the innocent!"
Dillon Fianna Nic Lugh walks into the warehouse district. It wasn't much of a lead, but the advice given was to come here to train. The gemisht powered soul casually glances around and ponders the options. 'It is relatively obscure enough, I guess ... I still don't get why training here is supposed to be such a boon. Tch." There really is a lot going on, they note. The forklifts busily shuttling large crates and pallets to their destinations of warehouses and delivery trucks while Dillon wanders past. The foreman takes no notice of the crystal haired entity wearing a gray, purple, and black tracksuit with the hoodie pulled up over the head. Most normal people ignore Dillon and for the better. It would do no good to draw too much attention when one simply does not desire to be noticed. The hidden training area will need to wait until later. This place is far too active for this time of day. With that decided Dillon walks out of the area to Souken Falls a place of Quincies and mana. Perhaps another mod soul can be found to help them find it later.
Crafter didn’t often come to the warehouse district. It was dirty and smelled of sweat and grime, like the streets of this god-forsaken city. Above all else was the smell of blood. The mod-souls were known to congregate here, and the hollows often came here looking for them. Crafter had put down dozens of hollows here himself. However, it was not hollow scum that interested Crafter, but the mod souls themselves.
Crafter was a mod-soul himself, and so he felt a certain kinship to the others that congregated here to train, ro whatever it was that they did. They were known to gather in an abandoned warehouse, made up as some kind of training gym. Crafter had visited this place a couple times, gathering information, but now he was here for a different purpose. Perhaps there were mod souls here who would be interested in testing his wares.
Crafter had discovered some kinks in his rifle when he had helped put down the dog hollow. The trigger had too much play, the shots took too long to charge. Simple issues to fix, but ones that had made the gun almost unusable. Crafter had still managed to get some shots off, and even hit with a few of them but he could only imagine that he would have been more effective in the battlefield with a fully operational firearm.
The fight with the dog hollow on the bridge had not been a total bust, however. He had learned much valuable information. There was a group of high-school age mod souls (or as close as Crafter could guess. Mod souls were often much younger or older than they appeared) who seemed to be self-appointed protectors of earth. While these girls seemed quite effective, they did not seem to be the type of subject Crafter needed for his work. They were too pure, too morally-upright. These girls simply would not do. However, there were many mod souls in Karakura besides them; powerful mod-souls with less firm moral boundaries.
The sun was starting to go down in the city sky, sending brilliant pinks and oranges across the horizon. Crafter stopped and appreciated the beauty for but a moment before he entered the abandoned warehouse. The warehouse seemed to be empty, but Crafter knew better. Mod-Souls often had to be careful in Karakura. Many hollows saw them as easy meals, and many Shinigami treated them nearly as poorly, if for different reasons. Crafter had every reason to believe that there were eyes on him now, even if he could not see them.
Crafter knew that the next few moments could be very critical. If he made a wrong move, he risked the mod-souls here fleeing, or even attacking. He would have to be very careful; the mod-souls of Karakura were wary of strangers, and there were few things stranger than a man walking around with no face in a trench coat.
”My name is Gryff Crafter. I mean no harm. You can come out.”, Crafter called into the shadows, but heard nothing in response.
XXX"There's our mark." Bright, greenish-blue hues followed the faceless individual as he moved down the street and passed between buildings through fetid alley-ways. Smog swirled around him, clung to him, as he walked through the steam. The steady thump of heavy music passed through a nearby wall, rumbling through the ground in time with two sets of foot-steps. There was a curve of a red ribbon, the slight up-turn of a claret lip, as a figure clad in shadows tailed Crafter through the warehouse district.
The neighborhood that the mod-souls congregated was a cesspit. Drug deals and back-alley exchanges were a regular occurrence. Bright neon lights caste the darkening streets in garish fulguration. A figure pushed between the busy streets, following the faceless one as he discreetly made his way towards the common meeting spot. A hood was pulled low over thick cerulean locks, a single protrusion peeking out from underneath the rocker's coat. A massive case was slung across her back, one that might carry a large instrument. No one asked questions here. You either kept to yourself or risked seeing something that would swiftly see you removed as a witness.
The sun was low now and the strange mod-soul was standing in front of the warehouse, his featureless mask turned upwards towards the waning star. His follower waited around a nearby corner, peering around crimson brickwork. Smoke swirled around her feet, dark and ominous, as she followed him. Crafter moved into the warehouse and the woman pursued, crossing the street while peering over both shoulders to make sure that she, herself, was not being tailed. She climbed the outside of the building, quickly ascending with the smoke trailing out of her jacket as she swung herself inside through a broken window. Carefully, she clung to the rafters and slunk across the thick, steel beams. "My name is Gryff Crafter. I mean no harm. You can come out." he spoke aloud, calling out to the shadows. Acri grinned and dropped down, landing heavily in front of him.
Edward stalks his way through the warehouse pulling the occasional lone civilian into an alleyway to tear them limb from limb and consume their soul, when he spots another potential victim, a faceless man in a trench coat, being followed by a seemingly-malicious green-haired that, if he were in a joking mood, Edward would describe as "horny", but Edward wasn't even close to a joking mood. All he was right now was a hungry predator looking for more pray, and it seemed to him that he had stumbled upon another predator stalking a particularly juicy looking pray. He follows the pair watching them from a near by roof top as the pray calls out claiming to be of no harm, and, instead of taking the opportunity to pounce, his stalker revels herself, thus loosing her opportunity for a surprise attack. "Well I was gonna just watch as she killed him and swoop in and take his soul for my self before it left his body but she isn't even bothering with a sneak attack so i guess I'll just have to kill him myself. POUNCE NOW FENRIR!" he thinks as the scene unfolds before him.
Hearing his master's mental command, Fenrir comes flying out of the shadows attacking with a Pinning Claw Strike. As this is happening, Edward starts firing a volley of Bala with seemingly no concern for any collateral damage, or potentially to even seem to be with the intent of causing as much collateral damage as possible to those that are more observant. After the volley finishes Edward yells "If you mean someone harm it's best to strike before they notice you, and if you are looking for a soul to snack on like I am, this one's soul is mine for the taking now, and I'll eat your's too if you get in my way while I'm having this meal." at the woman.
OOC Notes: Word Count: 317 * 1.6 = 507 Ed's Word Bank: 0 -> 507
Combat Actions:
Edward's Combat Actions:
Offensive Action:
Technique Used: Bala x5
Power: Five hits of 30 [1/2 SP] + 5 [Offensive Fighting Style] + 1 SE Drain [Vampirism Rank 1] = 35 Power and 1 SE Drain (per hit) Speed: 50 [SPD] + 10 [Bala's Speed Bonus] = 60 Speed Cost: 2 (Bala's Base Cost) X 5 (number of Bala fired) = 10 SE
Power: 0 [PCS' Base Power] + 15 [Electrified Acidic Touch] = 15 Power Speed: 15 [SPD] + 10 [Black Flight] = 25 Speed Cost: 3 (PCS' Base Cost) = 3 SE
Defensive Action:
none
Augment Actions:
1) Technique Used: Black Flight
Effect: + 10 movement speed Cost: 2 SE
2) none 3) none
Total Cost:
5 SE (Fenrir's SE 70 -> 65)
Passives:
Edward's Passives:
Back Line Fire Support: Offensive Fighting Style (Currently +5) Acidic Touch: + 5 power to physical attacks where hands come into contact with target
Fenrir's Passives:
Armored Snout to Tail: Defensive Fighting Style (Currently +5) Acidic Touch: + 5 power to physical attacks where hands come into contact with target Electrified Acidic Touch: Increases the attack power boost from "Acidic Touch" by an additional +10 (making it +15) and makes it apply to all of Fenrir's physical attacks where any part of his body comes into contact (not just his hands or fists)
Crafter sensed the bount before he heard or saw then. Such powerful beings would be wise to hide their reishi signature until they are ready to strike. Crafter would have smiled, if he was capable of such facial expressions. The bount’s doll came first. A dog, by the looks of it. Crafter’s hand went to his chest, as he felt his body rearrange itself to suit him better in a combat situation. As the dog pounced at him, he simply stepped to the side, drawing his blade.
Temrinus Est sang as she left her sheath, thirsting for hollow blood. The bount had some hollow in it, so that would have to do for now. Crafter brought his blade around in a wide arch, aiming to cleave the dog in half. He had little patience and even less mercy for those who would attack from the shadows like a common beast.
As he finished his swing, he darted off to the side, to put some crates between himself and his attacker should they wish to send another volley of hollow shots his way.
”And if you mean someone harm, it is best to make sure you accomplish your goal before you gloat, Bount. You die here…”
”combat actions”
Terminus Est: 220 pwr, 125 spd. Artifice boost (5 points): +40 Spd, +20 Def, +40 INT. Sauce’s stuff from the event: +90 attack power (for 2 more attacks), +40 Attack/movement speed (1 more turns) Terminus Est: Strikes with INT for power, and at +20 Spd
XXXAcri probably wouldn't have been able to react had the bala been aimed at her, but the new adversary aimed for the faceless one. He yells in her direction, trying to both lecture her and threaten her at the same time. He said something about making the other mod-soul his meal, but he clearly overestimated his own abilities. The expressionless mod-soul quickly ducked to the side and drew a blade, the sword singing a dirge of arcing death as Crafter brought it down upon the fanged beast that had attacked. "You are threatening ME?!"
"You came to the wrong neighborhood!"
A slight grin etched itself on Acri's lips as she dashed towards Edward. He had chosen the wrong place to attack. As she moved forward, avoiding the melee between the dog-like beast and the other mod-soul, Akai emerged from her coat in a smoky haze. The demonic mask hanging from her waist became the head of the newest addition, the second soul that made up the duo. Acri attempted to grab Edward by the throat, her thin fingers like corded steel and surprisingly strong, trying to slam him against the ground and hold him there as Akai similarly assaulted the bount.
Witnessing Fenrir getting horribly cut into by the blank-faced mod soul's blade Edward is instantly filled with enough regret for his actions to snap out of his insane personality and yell out "Fenrir Return!" The color drains from Fenrir's form and the sound of thunder sounds out as a crimson bolt of lightning arcs from Fenrir's armored form to the book Edward it holding. Then Edward is slammed into the ground by green-haired woman and is pummeled a bit by her and her smoke monster before he is able to make eye contact long enough to use his Vampiric Gaze to paralyze her. After the paralysis takes hold Edward zips into a nearby dark ally with Black Flight and flees from the battle.
OOC Notes: Word Count: 123 * 1.6 = 197 Ed's Word Bank: 507 -> 704 [EXITING LOCATION]
Combat Actions:
Edward's Combat Actions:
Offensive Action:
Technique Used: Vampiric Gaze
Effect: The Bount [not their doll] can project their gaze up to 60 Ft. The effect Binds the target for 1 post, or until hit if their Spirit Power is less than the Bount's Spirit Power+10. Cost: 4 SE
Defensive Action:
Hits Taken: (25 [Power] - 7 [DEF]) x 2 [Two Hits] = 36 Total Damage Edward's HP 175 -> 139
Augment Actions:
1) Technique Used: Black Flight
Effect: + 10 movement speed Cost: 2 SE
2) none 3) none
Total Cost: 6 SE Edward's SE 75 -> 69
Fenrir's Combat Actions:
Offensive Action:
none
Defensive Action:
Hit Taken: 220 [Power] - 45 [DEF] - 5 [DFS] = 170 total damage Fenrir's HP 225 -> 55
Augment Actions:
1) none 2) none 3) none
Passives:
Edward's Passives:
Back Line Fire Support: Offensive Fighting Style (Currently +5) Acidic Touch: + 5 power to physical attacks where hands come into contact with target
Fenrir's Passives:
Armored Snout to Tail: Defensive Fighting Style (Currently +5) Acidic Touch: + 5 power to physical attacks where hands come into contact with target Electrified Acidic Touch: Increases the attack power boost from "Acidic Touch" by an additional +10 (making it +15) and makes it apply to all of Fenrir's physical attacks where any part of his body comes into contact (not just his hands or fists)
The next few moments came quickly. The bount emerged from the shadows only to be assaulted by the present. Crafter’s blade bit deeply into the bount’s doll, drawing a gout of blood and a screech of pain from the beast. If Crafter had lips, they would have been smiling now. Out of desperation, the bount, his doll nearly destroyed, made to flee. Crafter drew his rifle and took aim, breathing in deeply, waiting for his shot. However, the shot never came as the bount ducked behind some buildings and out of sight. Crafter silently cursed his hesitance, as he powered down his gigai, back to its normal state, and turned to the other mod soul.
”Thank you for your assistance. What is your name?” Crafter was terse and to-the-point, not wasting a single word. He eyed the new mod soul both out of curiosity and caution. She seemed to be one of the ones they called “double soul”, in that she had a companion that seemed to be made of smoke. All of this was quite unusual, as was the hueco hybrid spiritual signature. Crafter knew that those who had undergone hollowfication could be dangerous, but this one had not posed a threat to him earlier, and had even helped him. Perhaps there was still some good left within this tortured soul?
Crafter shifted his rifle to his back and sheathed his sword, so he would seem less threatening. He had been lucky to still feel the extra boost gifted to him by the quincy Sauce, what seemed like only minutes before. Crafter was not sure if he would have fared so well if he had been relying purely on his own power. Terminus Est had worked perfectly, at least. It had been the first time Terminus est had been tested in battle, and she had performed better than Crafter could have ever hoped. She felt like a blade half her size, and cut like a blade twice her size. What more could Crafter ask for?
His hadn went to the hilt of the blade, a thumb caressing the pommel absently as he waited warily for a response. He still was not sure how much danger he was in. It would not do to be anything less than the portrait of caution, especially among other mod-souls, who were as varied in their dispositions as the rest of the spiritual world put together, at least in Crafter’s experience. He could not be sure whether this newcomer intended to remain an ally, or attack him as the other had, so abruptly. He knew that he was not going to be caught off guard if she did decide to turn violent. Crafter had done battle with other mod-souls before, and lived to tell about it. This was because he was always ready. Mod Souls could be unpredictable, their motives impossible to discern. It was in their nature. Crafter wondered if this one was more like himself, or like the ones who had dispatched the hollow on the bridge.
XXXAcri felt her muscles stiffen and was unable to prevent the bounts escape after making eye-contact. What was that? She wondered as the paralysis wore off. The ligaments in her neck and shoulders crackled & popped as she rolled them. It would take some time to loosen her joints after a whole body involuntary flex. A silent snarl cascaded across her lips, her brow furrowed into a feral cliff. The feeling of the bounts throat beneath her sinewy fingers, the sensation of his breath leaving his body as she choked it out of him, had been an intimate one that she was now bitter to have let go.
Her anger was short-lived as Crafter's brusque question was directed at the back of her emerald-crowned head. She turned, dusting the hand that had dug furrows into the flesh of the bount on her pant leg, as her Aurelian eyes came again to focus on the faceless mod-soul. The blank visage made him hard to read, she noted, as she shifted from one boot to the next. The massive case slung across her back dropped to the floor behind her with a dusty thump as she raised her hands, palms towards him. "Acri. Look, earlier, that was just for fun." The demonic mod-soul would harken back to the jest she had made in response to his first introduction.
Acri rested some of her weight on the instrument case beside her as she looked him over with rapacious eyes. Those golden hues hid little of her intentions. She was clearly trying to ascertain who he was and what he was packing. A sword, a rather hefty one by the looks. Also the rifle. If he was as handy with that gun as he was with that blade, Acri was clearly not in the same league. To serve her best interests, it would either be beneficial to make friends or just to avoid him entirely. But, he didn't seem to be the unreasonable sort; Surely he would've shot her already had he been aggressive. Especially considering her secondary nature. "Oh, and my other body is Akai." She thumbed over to the smoke swirling around a red, demonic mask behind her.
Word count: 838 + 366 * 2.5 = 1753
Luciferin Bandit
Saucy Goblin
Greedy Punk
Offline
Luciferin Bandit
Offline
Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2020 2:25 pm
”Charmed.” was Crafter’s response to the hasty retraction and introduction. He had not taken the threat to be a serious one. The other mod-soul had not made an aggressive motion towards him, in any case. He saw no reason to be alarmed. He was confident in his ability to defend himself.
Two gigai, and one incorporeal. This is a fascinating specimen. ”What do you know of the mysterious bridge and hollow incursions along the coast?”
Crafter already knew about all he needed to on the subject, of course. He was moreso guaging the level of knowledge this stranger had about the goings-on near Karakura, and possibly her alignment in the struggle. Crafter was nothing if not cautious. Crafter looked down at his watch for a moment. Calliope was late, as she often was. Crafter cursed himself for his choice in employees.
Drops of crimson still speckled Crafter’s stark face, remnants of the most recent bloodsucker who had tried to assault him. Normally, he would have had Calliope deal with such minor inconveniences. That’s what her job was. However, since she was habitually tardy, the situation required that he get his hands dirty; and dirty they were. The blood of the bount’s doll had sprayed heavily all over Crafter. He looked a grisly mess. The clean up would have to wait, though. Noticing how he must look to the newcomer, crafter turned towards them.
”I hate getting blood in my eyes” He paused dramitcally for a few silent seconds. ”That was a joke.”. Whether it was a joke or not was completely hidden in his voice. Crafter showed no humor, or any other emotion for that matter. Not in his voice, and especially not in his face. [/
