Bleach Hereafter RPG

Like someone determined to paint themselves with a million wrinkles, Itsuki's face scrunched into concern again. If he could set the page alight with the enthusiasm of his notes, he would have.
    "If it's evolution based gimmicks we're talking about, I guess I just need to grow a pair of wings and a crab shell and I'll be ready for anything!" Came the remark. The mild stretch and strain of stress he was trying to push aside remained beneath it.
    "Bears, I'll have to look up their more unique properties in detail." He observed, the sound of a triple-scored underline punctuating his words. "Admittedly I have, well... just about fuck all guess what to do with an Arrancar if I'm being honest." By the end of his sentence the diligent student was laughing it off. It seemed he was loosening up somewhat and returning to his more settled, calmer personality.
    A sympathetic nod followed by an amused snort answered the comments regarding research. "I'll think of it as a luxury crypt in my final moments. I wouldn't be stuck there very long." A last tap of the pen marked the end of his dancingly cheery tone.
    "I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to brief me on fighting the rest of the spiritually attuned races? I'll probably leave this bit out of the report to avoid anyone getting ideas about waging war with too much of an advantage against the grateful dead".

Cole shook his head, ”I’d give you advice if I could, but the simple fact is that pretty much every being’s spiritual power tends to manifest in a different way. I fight very differently than most Shinigami, but even if you get two that focus on zanjutsu - er, the use of our unique blades - they’re going to have very different release forms for their blade.”

He supposed that maybe Quincy were the most similar, usually some form of energy projection, but he’d also heard that some basically used reishi as lightsabers, so he didn’t really want to give the man bad advice to close in with someone that was gonna give him the Darth Maul treatment.

The Shinigami considered for a moment, surely there was something useful he could teach the man, ”The best advice I can give you is to try and train your reiatsu senses; it might give you an idea if whatever you’re trying to fight could kill you with their eyes closed and both hands behind their backs. If you can’t tell an unseated from a Vice Captain. Additionally, learning to suppress your own energy will make random hollows less likely to try and hunt you down for a meal. That’s kinda like flexing with a muscle you haven’t really used before, it gets easier with practice.”

Itsuki took a hearty gulp of his coffee, leafing through his notes with a noise of vague affirmation. That or acknowledgement.
    "Right, right, zanpakutou, zanjutsu. That makes sense. It must be some sort of evolution of kenjutsu to account for the spiritual arts and methods as well as the difference in power and experience. I'd bet Mushashi must look like a baby to half of your elites."
    Our student smacked his lips, appreciating the finely watery taste of the piss poor excuse for a cup of coffee. More pages rustled as they turned, that dedicated finger following symbols between pages and tracing unseen paths.
    "Just one issue, Professor." Clearing his throat, that finger came up with a little waggle. "I have no idea what a 'release' is in this context. Is it some sort of technique involving the release or output of raw spiritual energy?" He queried.
    To the end of his notes he went, a whole half dozen little indicating symbols attaching to the next part. "Of course, I'll make sure to take every opportunity I can to flex those spiritual muscles. It may take me a little while to feel and figure out where they actually are and how far I can push them. Any exercises on that besides, say, meditation might be handy to know too." That mischievous glint in his eye returned. "Maybe something even the average person could have a stab at." He oh so casually nudged, the research paper at the forefront of his thoughts.

The professor blinked for a moment, ”Oh…uh, did I not cover releases when we talked about zanpakutou?"  The man gave a small smirk, "Sorry, didn't really develop a lesson plan for today.”

The Shinigami drew his sword from a back scabbard, it was longer than the average katana by a decent margin, and looked more than a little unwieldy. The voices from the blade began to increase in volume in his head, but not as dramatically as they had earlier.

”So, basically, for Shinigami and Arrancar, a lot of their power is sealed into their respective blades. For Arrancar it’s sealing away some of their power they had as a hollow, for Shinigami it’s a little part of their soul, or something along those lines. I’ll be honest, there’s a lot of tradition around the zanpakutou; and I don’t really get it all that much.  Learning the name of ones zanpakutou lets a Shinigami tap into that power, or something.  But the action of drawing that that power out is known as a ‘release.’  Being in a 'sealed' state is normal; the general idea being that running around dumping reiryoku at full blast isn’t a great idea. Not every Shinigami uses their zanpakuto, though; like I said, I prefer to use magic, never was much for swordfighting.”

The blade slipped back into the scabbard, and the voices quieted down a little bit. ”I think Quincy and Fullbringer have a similar style of tapping into their power, but like I said, there’s not a whole lot of information on them.”

Itsuki smiled up against the remark, pen briefly at rest upon the page.
    "I don't seem to have it in my notes, I'm sorry if I missed it." He said.
    Another hearty gulp came, then another. As the lecture continued the pen camer back to life in his grasp. A leisurely paced bled words into the page, adorned in the decorations of their little secret symbols like so many medals representing different fibres of facts weaving together to form a spiritual truth. Kind of, anyway. He never expected the truth to be written out in such lazy penmanship. A hasty sketch emerged, the devotee eyeing the ivory handled katana. A lean and tilt of his head gave a better outline of that pentagram tsuba before he set the pen down again and righted his posture.
    "Well, I can offer you a little bit of information in return. I'm not sure it would be of any use to know but I feel like I should offer what I can in trade." Fumbling around in his pocket, Itsuki fished up the old familiar omamori and set it on the table. The small measure of black silk covering the wooden charm was inlaid with the golden image of a sunrise anf fastened with similarly coloured thread. Well love and well worn, the brush of its owner's thumb upon the corner left a trickle of that molten orange reiatsu. "This is a charm from my childhood, from my grandparents. It's a thought I've been working on through our discussion but for one reason or another it seems to be the focus of my power. I can't say if all other Fullbringers work this way but it seems I might. Reckon that might be any use to you?"

The Shinigami gave a slight shrug, ”Maybe? Material foci seem to be pretty important for spiritual power. Shinigami have Zanpakutou, Arrancar seal their powers into their sword, Quincy have this little pentagonal cross thing, maybe Fullbringers have something like your charm.”

He peered at the charm, it was clearly old; a family relic with a lot of emotion and history tied up in it. Interesting. ”I’ve found material foci also help enhance spiritual magic, so it really depends on how Fullbringers function as a general statement. Is your spiritual power sealed into that little charm, or do you use it to draw out power that’s always there?”

Cole considered it a moment; he hadn’t really talked to any Arrancar or Quincy about how their powers worked. He had lots of anecdotes from other Shinigami, but most of the other spiritual entities weren’t exactly willing to sit down and chat about how they derived their powers. Maybe it was some sort of ancestral thing? ”This is going to sound strange, but do you ever, like, hear voices coming from it? Maybe your ancestors, or something like that? The ‘science’ behind Fullbringer abilities hasn’t really been researched much, as far as I know.”

"Voice?" Came curious query against the question cast.
    His brow quirked full, cocked alone without its neighbour. Our pale-skinned, dark haired youth gazed down at it. In the battle he hadn't exactly been paying attention enough. Strange new powers had whisked away much of his exterior awareness in favour of controlling the raging curcible conjured in the crux of his soul.
    Emptying his mind of the circumstance, Itsuki insisted his senses scale back such worrisome things as the material and melt away the meddlesome noise of the library. Where thumb met frabric the Fullbringer's Fullbring-thing was fading slow. Dull orange glow deepened, diving into a small spray of sparks like a lighter's flint flicked by a overly obnoxious teenager with a recently acquired oral fixation.
    Thick and goopy, like far slower caramel, the molten ooze of his spiritual energy trickled free, folding upon itself and slowly spreading across the table. A passerby shed their scarf as the haze of heat washed up from the display just for two spilled over their private corner. Pages of notes rustled in the spiritual breeze, smudged ink from Itsuki's left-handedness drying quick on skin and page.
    Tertiary spiritual ocular, infallibly intagible and extrasensorily imbued, rolled open.
    Muttered prayers littered the warm air, drifting far away from his senses to form as much a background as the far wall from him did.
    Silence ruled the air for a few moments, his ears straining.
    It came slow. What he'd thought was a simple sizzling sound whispered from the charm in his palm was more of a tiny, terrible truth. Slipping him thumb free of it, the trickle of soul slowing to a crawl, he heard a dozen voices overlapping. Grandparents, parents, himself. It was leaking aural memories.     Somewhere beneath his chin another voice reached out. No, it was hard to call it a voice. This was more of a projection of sensations and feelings streamed live to the theatre of his mind and the host of his ill-prepared brain.
    Was this fucking table talking to thim?
    Before he knew it a veritable effervescence of spiritual expression seemed to be emanating from every object about him. Looking about the room with a face cast in confusion, he would have contemplated checking himself into an asylum if not for today.
    Grasp closed to clutch the troublesome filial focus of all things fresh and befuddling, the naked spiritual goo faded away and so too did his extrasensory ability cease.
    "If I'm not mistaken, Professor, I can hear-- uh, feel, interpret? The spirits of just about everything in this room. Though, yes, I can hear what seems to be memories playing back from it." Itsuki was rubbing at his face, eyes scrunched up. It made his 'third eye' ache to try and bring everything into clear view at once.

Cole nodded; Fullbringers weren't particularly well understood amongst the Shinigami, but this seemed mostly in line with the limited knowledge they had, ”Yeah, that kinda checks. That’s why you guys are called Fullbringers. You bring forth the spirit of things, I guess? I’m not entirely sure how it works, the example in the textbooks is basically calling the spirit of water to help drink without a straw.”

The Shinigami gave a slight shrug, he wasn’t sure what Itsuki was hearing or feeling, and there wasn’t a whole lot he could do to help him navigate it, ”Maybe that’s more like the spellcraft Shinigami learn; basic manipulation of elements for various, more universal, effects. But your foci is the truly unique thing to you as a fullbringer.”

The man considered his former student and his vaguely molten totem, ”That was the first time you activated it, earlier on the roof, yeah? I think as far as giving you homework, figuring out what exactly what your foci allows you to do is your priority. Most of your strength will come from that. If you want to be ready to fight, that’s what you need to know.”

Itsuki was all goofy smiles at that note.
    "Drinking without a straw, hm? I'll make sure only to do it in appropriate company. Publishing a paper or not, I can't say it feels like the safest option to make a public demonstration." He said.
    Turning to a rustlingly crisp, fresh page, another of those habitual tip-taps of the pen came and went. The extra large block capital 'HOMEWORK' header with a tastefully rough triple underline spoke loudly to Itsuki's feelings and practices regarding this particular aspect of studying. "Do you have any idea if regular people can see the rest of Fullbringer stuff because we're alive? I'd prefer to know if I can pass off what I'm doing as meditation or tai chi or if I may have the slightly more inconvenient experience of trying to pass myself off as a monk with an enthusiasm for holograms and fireworks."
Itsuki shrugged, pen still scribbling away different possibilities to investigate. "Not to suggest I couldn't try to find somewhere quiet and private. More that living in the largest, most populated metropolitan area in the world might make it a bit tricky to find such a place for an extended period of time without requiring money or raising questions."

Cole shook his head, as he had said, he didn’t know that much about Fullbringers; but he still wanted to answer the question as accurately as possible, ”I’m not entirely sure; your charm isn’t entirely made of reishi, but I can tell from here that there’s a spiritual component to its matter. I think it exists on both planes, much like your soul plus your body. Normal folks might be able to see it melting and stuff; that should be something pretty easy to test; just say you got a new toy and see if they can see it melt.  But I don’t know about the other things you might discover you can do with it.”

He gave a small shrug, he didn’t want to damper the man’s enthusiasm, he also didn’t want to give him advice that would result in his untimely demise. Cole’s voice took on a warning tone, friendly, but firm, ”Do be somewhat careful of your practice; large expenditures of spiritual energy can attract things you might not be ready to deal with. I don’t know how exactly your power is going to manifest, but it might leave you drained and unable to deal with something that was attracted to the energy.”

In answer to the directions given, then pen continued to sway atop the page. Beneath each dart and dash, inked lft and tap upon the bleached white pages and their poorly printed lines came the slew of symbols practically arcane and mystic in their obfuscation. Shorthand hewn from images scattered across the page, any semblance of regular language dissipated to stray kanji littering the downright incantation being scrawled out. Whatever the arrangement of symbols and their formations meant, it was clear enough to any passingly familiar that the works straddled several practices both arcane and occult. Ways of old and older seemed to be his inspiration. The ways of the onmyoji and the kannushi, strange and stray notations of harae and sutra.
    One common theme laced throughout seemed to be introspection and purification. The kanji, not so stray once fleshed out with partners, seemed to indicate gaps as opposed to presence. They spoke of spiritual arts, best guesses at the appropriate terms in reference to the Shinigami's own spiritual techniques. Logical conclusions and expansions of known feudal and ancient rituals under names more unifying.

Cole briefly wondered if he had done the right thing here, but it was a bit too late to regret his choices He gave his old student a professorial smile and shook his head, ”Not really, and I should probably be heading back to Soul Society soon. Just be careful, try to keep your head down and stay safe.”

The Shinigami adjusted himself, fiddling with the strange device he used earlier; it beeped quietly, and Cole took that as a good sign before he looked back to Itsuki, ”I will probably be back on earth at some point in the next few months, I will see if I can get some sort of message to you.”

He considered for a moment, ”I suppose the only other recommendation I have is to take as many notes as you can as you develop your abilities. Figure out what works, what doesn’t work, unexpected results; all that stuff. A lot of spiritual combat comes down to knowledge and ingenuity as well as raw strength. If you don’t know how to apply what you have, you’ll just end up as a Hollow’s next meal when you run into something nasty.”

Itsuki rose to his feet at the Professor's announcement of their departure from their one-to-one. A final click-clack of his pen came before it clattered down onto the desk. All smiles and glee, the student was finally finished nodding along emphatically, his occult display of note taking concluded much to the appreciation of the aching tendons about his fingers.
    The mention of their return drew a downturn to the monk's expression. It was gentle, a faltering into a stony neutrality as opposed to a more severe swing of mood and expression. Itsuki cleared his throat once the Professor appeared to have stopped speaking.
    "...I'm afraid it will be much easier to find me by then. Some time in the next eight to twelve weeks I would imagine I'll be making my own appearance in Soul Society, Professor. Heart disease, you know. I was already diagnosed in my first year here." A coarseness to the student's breathing was faintly apparent now the chatter had ceased. Even at rest the labour of his flesh was one burdened with sickly effort as it slowly undid itself. Admittedly, Itsuki suddenly felt quite self conscious. He wasn't quite gaunt but nor was he athletically composed. It was his dearest hope in this moment that he was concealing his condition well enough. Something about being remembered as unwell sat poorly with him.
    A thought itched at the back of his mind, the pale skinned student of the ways wondering just how much his spiritual powers may have been awakened or amplified by his nearing the veil. More to the point, how much were they sustaining him? Letting the questions pass, a tension fled his shoulders. Itsuki clad his face in another smile.
    "I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Professor. I promise I'll make sure these documents are at least put out into the world before I join you on the other side." He said, all bittersweet joviality coating the casual affair of death. In lieu of a handshake, the student offered up a respectful bow to the incorporial man as a way of bidding him well on his way and in silent commitment to the effort to be undertaken.