Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Add Reply
Shadows of the Past, Light of the Future; Whisper in Stygian II
Topic Started: Jun 26 2014, 06:39 AM (187 Views)
Isac Skinner
Member Avatar

After a long day teaching classes to groups of students in New Cross city, Isac was headed home. Well, 'home' was currently the manor of the Vicereine, Liriel Barrison Del'Armgo. The last time she had been home, a few months after returning from their stay in Torascivion, her nightmares had manifested as a violent entity, a Hollow, that had infected her soul. Shortly after, less then a day, she found herself in a private session with the master of the Vizard, Triel Devir herself.

Triel had revealed to her that she had gained a power similar to that of the Vizard themselves, a Hollow soul within her. Triel had gone on to help her beat back the beast, though only through awakening another power within her. Her 'bow', actually manifested as a sword, had a spirit inside it. Nevermind that this spirit said nothing, Isac could still understand it, sort of. Feelings, a few images, got the point accross, as well as a spiritual 'download' of information, told Isac all she needed to know.

Unmenschlichkeit. German for 'Inhumanity', the being was as inhuman as Isac could imagine. Hollows, though debased, had at one time been human, and retained a sense of such. Unmenschlichkeit never spoke, never really seemed take an interest in her life, preferring to be a silent, seemingly unwilling, participant. This was in contrast to the other spirit inhabiting her mind, who seemed to take an almost perverse interest in the happenings of her life. As if her thoughts had summoned it, The Hollow Within chose that moment to speak up.

Where're you going, Isac? I think you made a wrong turn, love. You don't live here anymore. Isac shook herself from her thoughts to find herself standing before the ruins of her old house. How did I end up here? She wondered. Shaking her head, she turned to leave, but something stopped her. Something was wrong. Wrong but yet, so familiar. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, and her skin tingled. There was the almost omnipresent feeling of moonlight on a cold night, dancing across her skin, that told her the majority of the beings near her were Quincy. She ignored it, searching deeper. A faint, lingering sense of Hollow lingered near the house. This close, her skin felt like it was being rubbed raw by the still potent lingering energy. Isac's brows furrowed.

It's been months since that happened! The energy surely should have dissipated by now, she thought to herself. Opening her eyes, she moved closer to the debris. Sure you wanna do that, love? Are you afraid of the Dark? Isac's eyes snapped open, she hadn't noticed she had closed them. Something was definitely going on here. Probing deeper, she knelt next to the remains of one of the support beams. Reaching her hand out, she ran it along the beam. There was something there. A black residue still clung to the debris.

Examining the residue, she started to hear something at the very edge of her hearing. Starting up, she looked all over, the sound slowly growing louder, until she suddenly recognized it. The Hollow Within was laughing. Growing louder all the while, an endless peal of insane laughter that began to grate on her nerves. She performed a mental half-turn, appearing inside her own mind, intending to slap it. As she appeared before the many-limbed entity, it merely laughed harder. "You're wide open, love. Anything could kill you now, girl. Better run back to your body, and quick!" It laughed again, then stopped as Isac vanished from it's surroundings.

Whirling around, Isac put her back to one of the walls for the nearby houses. Something was here. How long had she been.. Irrelevant. The Hollow feeling was gone now, replaced by a presence of... nothing. Not a lack of presence, there was definitely something there, but it felt like... nothing. Too late, she thought to herself. She pulled for her armor immediately, standing cloaked in her strongest defensive art. Immediately, the armor released an airborne chemical, stimulating most humanoid biologies to produce ever-increasing amounts of melatonin. Isac shook her head and tapped a semi-complicated rhythm on the right arm of the armor. Immediately, small needles on the inside of the armor injected a moderate dose of caffeine and an antidote to the poison in the air.

Drawing her hand down over her face, she sealed the helmet, the air now automatically filtered as the very composition of the helmet made it a one-way window. She looked around as she breathed the semi-stale air, her mind going into overdrive as her homemade cocktail flooded her system. It was only then that she noticed the shadows. The shadows were... wrong. There were too many and they faced the wrong way for how the sun was setting. Scowling under the helmet, Isac drew her Kris Knife. She daren't use Unmenschlichkeit in combat with an unknown entity with only a few months practice. However, that didn't mean someone else didn't want in on the fight.

Oi, love! Let me out! I wanna see what this body can do in a real fight. Comeon! The Hollow Within demanded. Isac ignored it, trying to keep an eye on all the shadows that were out of place.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Esper
Member Avatar

It was the domain, the sovereign right of the light to come with glory and power. To it's realm lay the tremendous clashes, the mighty openings, the kind of beginnings that would half write the stories to follow them, dancing on the wind with motes of brightness. It was to the dark then that subtlety was granted, the dark that chose whispers as it's medium, that crept in like silence. The light demanded drama for it knew it's time was short - the darkness demanded nothing and yet everything, for even time itself was subject to it's desires. So it was, is, and forever would be.

The mightiest of all arrancar did not arrive with hell at his back. He did not arrive to the sounds of trumpets, to the sound of cracking stone and air combusting. Some would have liked that entrance and saw it only fitting for their status. One might have called it beneath Seach, but such words would insult the accepting ground and the dutiful bedrock. Nay, his arrival came in silence, and only his will - the one thing that mattered - announced his presence. The air was thick with power, the ground engulfed by dark that reached and spread and climbed, whispering and chattering as it sought witnesses, creeping through open windows like a predator and snatching up those who looked on with horror.

The Shadow took them all gently, wrapping them in soft cocoons of dark before squeezing, shadows flattening to one dimensional shapes, their contents consumed.

Seach was cloaked, it was true, but his face and arms still poked free from the dark, and that was too much for mortality to handle. Without reiatsu, they had no hope. Where once vegetation existed nearby, it withered away to senseless stone. Humans who were too close did not have time to accept the embrace of shadows, their features melting away and their bodies turning to loosely clothed statues. No one would remember who they were. No one could identify the remains. Breathing in deeply, savouring smells that could never exist in the Hueco Mundo, Seach began to walk.

Ahead, the Shadow scouted. It knew what to look for, lacing and sliding through streets, searching for the one Jediss Desbracht had spoken of, the one touched by hollow power. Seach knew that Jediss was ignorant to the curiosity of what she had found. He knew many things she did not. He could feel the disgust in her heart, the love she held for her people, the sadness at her inability to assist them. She was a stronger individual than she could ever know. Seach had been wearing away at her - oh, not her essence, her shadow protected her well, as it should - but her morals, her beliefs, the foolish senses that guided her - yet she held strong.

But that too would fail one day.

Humans with hollows. How curious. How new. How old. But this was perhaps the first to be gifted with hollow power, rather than take it for themselves, unless the spirit of the Quincy was fiercer than poor Mar'ik anticipated in his base, scorched den. But then, Mar'ik was blind to many things. Only those who walked in absolute dark could trust their eyes.

And...there. The Shadow had found the prize. One who could not resist the temptation of the gloom. One who stepped into the dark, and knew not the path they walked. The Shadow spoke nothing, yet said more than any sentence, than any picture. The yellow eyes of the High Lord closed, drinking in the details that the Shadow procured. Female. Small. Strong. It told him of her appearance, the texture of her power, that faint hint of hollow energy, all he could ever have wanted to know.

Seach's eyes opened. And Seach held out a hand. From the pool below, a simple glob of darkness rose up, and returned back to the pool after gently pressing against Seach's hand. The Dusks Brand was set, and so the mass of dark proceeded with it's fell purpose, traversing the shadows below, crossing one corner, then another, reaching the ground behind the one who traveled ever deeper into the maze of streets towards her destiny.

Destiny rarely waited. To those who sought it, destiny came to them.

Where Seach once stood, there was a faint outline of dark, and then nothing. Where the glob of dark had traveled, a black sphere formed, and then...popped.

And there, Seach was, shrouded in black mist.

"You have brought a piece of my realm back from your stay. Dare you claim it?"
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Isac Skinner
Member Avatar

Isac kept watch on the shadows, and so immediatly noticed when one swelled, bursting into a humanoid form. Drat, she thought to herself. He's too far for the Ambience. Cloaked in a black mist, the figure was indistinct. Isac bid her time, she could do nothing from range.

Then the figure spoke. A piece of his realm? Obviously refering to the Hollow Within, Isac scowled under her mask. How did this one learn what was her closest secret? Not even Liriel had been told yet. "Dare I claim it? I don't see anyone else wanting it. Unless you do?" Cocking her head slightly to the side, Isac smiled under her mask, even though she knew he was unable to see it.

Isac knew the area was mostly deserted, most places of business were still open, her classes always took place before sun-up. She was even out early, it was barely into afternoon. That knowledge spurred her on as she made a mental nod. She did the mental equivalent of putting a key in a lock, and turned it.

The first to change was the feel of her Reiatsu, it's edge turned from a soft caress to a jagged blade under the throat. Then the armor darkened, turning a jet black. Her stance shifted, from standing upright, her legs shifted apart, moving her center of gravity lower, her arms apart from her body. Then the armor started glowing a slight greenish tinge. "Well? This what you want?" Isac asked in a mocking tone, as her voice modulated, growing deeper and gaining a slight echoing quality.

"Then why don't you come and get it? Or should I bring it to you?" Isac started walking forwards, deeper into the shifting shadows. She normally would lay in wait, like a trapdoor spider, but with the Hollow Within's influence, peals of laughter filled her mind, and her method of attack changed to a far more active, if still lure-like, method. The knife she'd been holding until now clattered to the ground as the gauntlets grew claws tipped in the same bacterium that covered the rest of her armor, it's own spiritual presence giving off the greenish glow. Arms at her side, palms facing her target, she walked one foot in front of the other, hips swaying slightly, with all the manner of a woman welcoming her lover back from a long trip.

If given the chance, she'd walk right up to this man, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. Still, it wouldn't hurt to get a name. "Seems you know some pretty important things about us, lovely. Mind returning the favor?" Trying to at least get within a few meters of this man, to give the airborne toxin her armor let off the chance to work on him. Drowsy targets were so much easier to kill. Sleeping ones even better.
Edited by Isac Skinner, Jun 29 2014, 12:22 AM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Esper
Member Avatar

The primal nature of beings raised under the rays of the sun was to cower before the dark, to seek refuge in the nearest source of light, but such fear was forever a prelude to an unfortunate demise. One could not run from the dark. It was everywhere. A billion stars bled out their life-force to hold the abyss in check but one day even they too would pass, and no spark of a mortal could compare to the splendor of a star. Therefore, to take a stand against the shadows, to hide such fear - or even master it - was worthy of respect. Seach never mocked bravery, no matter how foolish it was. The brave were good iron, ready to be tempered into something great, unlike cowards, their iron tainted by the carbon laced through them.

But to ask for a name, to stand without undue terror, meant that this girl did not understand what she was making a stand against. She saw the shadows as something a candle could banish, rather than the bane of mortality. A name, a name - she would not have his name, no matter the strength of will she showed, or the strength of body that would be tested. The Shadow That Is might have reveled in infamy, but infamy was earned through deeds than through speech. If his name was to be heard, then it would be carried by the wind rather than his voice.

Seach did not move, remaining shrouded in black mist, his shadows undulating on the ground below. He took no action as the quincy girl re-positioned, as she looked for the best options, the best ground on which to make her stand. He did not even look at her so much as he looked beyond her - the girl was interesting but not what caught his interest. That layer of hollow power that was leaking through now, that meshed with her power...it spoke a tale to Seach. The Curator of Endings had studied the occasional Vizard before, and he had observed how the hollow within did not serve, did not bend the knee. They were forced to. They were slaves, ever waiting to overthrow the emperor that held them in check.

Before Seach was no different a struggle. And Seach would not have a denizen of his realm having been born into a human and forced to serve without consequence.

"Have you ever had a nightmare in a calm night? A creeping worry in a pleasant dream? Has your heart ever quickened at the skittering of a shadow on the wall? In the depths of despair, has a voice ever reached you, gentle and hoarse, bearing the dark whisper 'it could be worse'? You do not need my name. You already know what you stand before."

Once again, the failures of the other High Lords had washed ashore, coughing and crying but still alive. For all the pride and pleasure Mar'ik took in his work, he would forever be incomplete so long as enjoyment came from torture. An artist like Mar'ik could have their work go up in flames and never recover a scrap of what they made from the ashes. Ephemeral pain and suffering of the flesh and mind could heal, and the scars could be smoothed over. Seach was not able to see the future, but he could predict it. The actions of Mar'ik would only make the Quincy stronger - stronger, and solid enemies of the Hueco Mundo, were they not before.

Seach would show them what true despair was. Pain alone was not meaningful.

He could make a soul stronger whilst making them never raise their hand against him again.

Still looking beyond the girl, Seach spoke - and he also addressed beyond her.

"What kind of soul of the dark are you, to lend power to this girl against me? She stands before me and the shadows that follow without bending the knee, and yet you cannot do the same against her? You disappoint me, hollow."

Seach outstretched one arm, and the shadows wrapped around it, coalescing and concentrating into a long blade of darkness. Aetheric trails of dark mist trailed from the sword, and Seach began to walk towards the girl, towering over her.

"My journey here brings with it possibilities infinite. Show me, Quincy girl, if you are capable of claiming even one."
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Isac Skinner
Member Avatar

As Isac sauntered her way towards her opponent he held his ground. Normally, this would worry Isac, cause her to wonder why he was simply letting her approach. This, however, was not normal times. Isac continued forward, drawing right next to the being. They were grossly different in height, her not even five feet, him about seven. She reached about to his elbows. This fact barely registered to Isac, as she let the poison from her armor fill the air. She was about to deliver a strike when the being spoke, and Isac tilted her head slightly.

Of course, such things had been common in the weeks just before the destruction of her house. The Hollow Within had messed with her perceptions often, and Isac had only recently managed to dispel the illusions. but the being continued, this time seeming to speak behind her. Isac's claws were mere inches from the being when she found herself suddenly unable to move. Then Isac heard a voice, the voice of her Hollow, though she heard it with her ears, not her mind. The voice was low, ponderous, like a large man thinking over each word before letting it leave his lips.

"I can interfere, by why bother? Such attempts are transitory at best, and the end result is the same. I am hers, and I very much doubt you can change that. So why should I not work with the one whose body I must share, distasteful though it may be." Isac's body began to move without her direction, standing back straight, the attack aborted. Isac raged at the bonds, though they held her fast. The Hollow had never shown this amount of strength before. Then the bonds were gone, and Isac felt the Hollow retreat slightly.

Returning to a battle stance, Isac raised one hand to her armor clad chest, seeming to close her hands around what seemed to be the hilt of a sword that hadn't been there before, as if the blade were impaling her heart. Gritting her teeth under the helm she pulled, hard. As she did, a phrase in German left her lips. "Schwelgen Sie in der Leid, Unmenschlichkeit." Crying out in momentary pain, Isac held in her hands what could only be called a buster sword, easily as long as she was tall and half as wide, she wielded it as though it weighed but a feather.

As the blade left her body, another chemical filled the air, displacing the oxygen. While the air was still perfectly breathable, the level of carbon dioxide had risen sharply. A low, inaudible hum filled the air, setting even Isac's mind on edge. The end result was fear, a feeling of suffocation, and each breath brought more of the poison exuded by her armor into the body, causing levels of melatonin to steadily rise. Isac's armor filtered the poison, she'd taken a stimulant and an antidote to the poison, and she was conditioned to lessen the effect of the other two. Hopefully, this would give her the advantage, though in terms of power she felt she was outmatched. Quite outmatched.

The blade glowed green as the bacterium from her Hollow flowed over it and dripped slowly off the tip. Spattering on the ground, it made the only sound as Isac watched her target warily. Another drip, then another. Time seemed to slow as she focused on the fight, the caffeine shot she'd given herself ramping up to full effectiveness. Drip. Drip. The next instant she moved, deceptively fast for wearing all that armor. The blow was aimed at his armed hand, an obvious move, though she swung the blade with only one hand. A moment before contact, she ducked, clenching her free fist as she called upon Quälen. A thick forest of spikes erupted from the ground, coated thickly in one of Isac's unique concoctions, designed to impede the electrical impulses that allowed the brain to control it's body. The spikes were only her height tall, but there was nearly no room to move within the ten meters surrounding her.

While the spikes avoided her, they would congregate towards her target, pointing in his direction to impale her target as she jumped from the ground, still moving from her roll, gaining a bit of distance. If all went well so far, her target would be painfully impaled upon the spikes as his reflexes dulled. She turned back, free hand already gripping a ready-made javelin of white energy. As she used spiritrons to control her flight, she threw the javelin at her target. Flimsily made, it was still strong enough to pierce him. Though it wouldn't take much effort to destroy, the javelin was mostly a distraction as she landed on the ground, detonating the spikes in an explosion of shrapnel.

Then Isac stood, assessing the battlefield. She could feel the wear of using both spirits at once, she couldn't keep this up for long before she'd have to disengage.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Esper
Member Avatar

The shadows had begun to reach and grasp, coiling on the ground in dark anticipation, knowing that blood was to be shed, knowing that they would soon feel the pain of another being. Their master made no effort to quell their impatience, far more interested in the strength of will, yet lack of confidence, that the hollow within the small Quincy possessed. It could seize a moment like this, yet did not think to make use of it, to find something, anything, to anchor itself to this world? But then it was but mere hollow, a creature of small cunning and ferocity, not known for the ability to plan and think ahead. All the same, every being had a purpose, and so it was that Seach had decided the purpose of this soul.

Only he could enlighten the lost to their purpose. It was not a task he could have delegated to Jediss Desbracht, or any other.

But the first task at hand was to put down resistance. Seach was no stranger to the battlefield - he had seen more than most - but his presence on the field meant that the battle would not be a simple clash of blades, oh no. Covered in armour, wielding an impressive blade, chanelling powers both foul and fair, the Quincy no doubt felt in a secure position. The air had become noxious, and shadows dripped from Seach's hood, forming a featureless mask around his face, and at the same time they rose from the ground, covering exposed flesh in darkness.

No air could pass through the dark. No chemical could seep through the shadow. And whilst Seach denied himself breath for now, it was of no consequence. He did not depend on air to live, or food or water. All he required was the essence of the living, and he stood on earth. Peripheral shadows crept once again into the buildings of the living, snaring them and dragging them kicking and screaming out of the places they called home, the place they were safe.

No safety was present here. Torascivian was ever safer than wherever the Shadow laid claim.

And so as the Quincy girl made her stand, as she prepared to fight, rushing towards the being she had no knowledge of, screams filled the air as men, women and children were pulled by dark cords towards Seach. As the girl moved to attack - the nature of the attack unimportant to Seach - the Curator of Endings reached out one dark gloved hand, brushing against the blade of the Quincy only gently as an attack turned into a feint, and spikes burst free from the ground.

Without sound, Seach drew his cloak over his body, and between it and the dark now covering his flesh, he suffered no wounds. Spikes crashed against the cloak, and it shifted first like fabric then trembled like water, and Seach felt the impact but no pierce, the spikes shattering like glass against stone. The humans dragged nearby were less lucky - there were squelching sounds, and some screams were cut off whilst others grew louder, and blood splashed over the dark ground below.

It vanished upon touching the Shadow.

Seach made no move to follow the Quincy into the air, instead moving one hand - the dark covering it gone - to touch one of the humans brought close to him. He knew the Quincy would see what happened. His victim was a petite woman, around the same height as the Quincy, of much darker colour...but not for long. Colour bleached from the hair and skin, the face began to melt away, teeth and hair falling from their roots, and then the flesh itself turned to stone, and Seach tossed the drained body on the ground, the weak rock shattering on impact.

He returned his attention to the Quincy, and behind a mask of shadows he smiled. He stood in his Shadow, but also in the shadow of buildings, whilst in taking to the air, the Quincy had put her back to the noon sun.

The mask faded, and Seach spoke as a spear of light came hurtling down.

"An inner hollow only ever takes full control if the mortal body can no longer hold itself together. To your hollow, I grant this gift."

The Quincy had, without doubt, seen what had happened when their fight had begun, when her sword had come close to Seach and Seach had brushed it with his hand. The Shadow had stuck to the blade like oil, peeling off Seach's hand, and that shadow bore a Dusks Brand. A Dusks Brand that now began to glow moments before the explosion of light would come.

Seach swung his shadowy blade at the spear, smiting it from the world, and pointed his bare hand to the sky, towards the Quincy.

The Dusks Brand exploded as a Dawns Bane.

And an orb of light and dark hurtled into the sky, rising from gloom towards blinding light.

Seach had factored in the armour. It looked sturdy enough. But with such a gradient of shadow to light, the armour would only protect the Quincy girl from dying to the Nyx Assault.

That was not necessarily a good thing for her.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
« Previous Topic · Residential District · Next Topic »
Add Reply