Bleach Hereafter RPG

Bathed in early morning sun, Itsuki's pale, naked skin was slowly being hidden away bandage by bandage. Littered with a fine array of cuts, burns, bruises and welts over the past three weeks, the first and most minor of the injuries were only just beginning to heal. With a wincing breath, the monk seated in temple dormitories eased away a wet, damp cloth from reddened skin.
    At least the heat had begun to subside. After gently dabbing the patch dry the part-timer grit his teeth with a strangled groan of pain against the smear of nesporin across the angry red splash mark across his ribs. His last injury teated, the fledgling fullbringer cling filmed and taped the mark shut from the world and heaved a sigh of relief at his treatment complete.
    Looking down over himself an array ofbandages adhesive and otherwise seemed to decorate him every few centimetres. Stripes, strips and bowtie-shaped strips coiled about much of his fingers and both hands where the dragons had tried to flee his burning grasp, his strained left wrist sheathed in tubular white support. In the crook of his elbow peered the red eye of a tetanus-preventing pinprick. About his collarbone gauze had been taped down over burn-ringed perforations of a fullbring turned wild in his temporary madness in the desert. The left of his ribs ached with purplish bruising, a naked scrape running the length of his back partenered to it from an attempt to save the same person who had given him those scalds. Ah, those scalds. His right ankle to the knee glistened with the same cling film as the other side of his ribs from the caustic visitations of a 'favour'. Atop it all, the cut 'neath the white strip above his left brow itched.
    Grumbling in his unease, the pale monk itched about the edges of it before washing his hands in the small bowl of water present before his place seated on the floor and setting to his pills.
    Two for the pain, three for the heart. His fingers were cold against his lips despite their extensive exercise. With another sigh heaving his ribs, the man stood and set to cladding himself in the semi-formal attire he'd grown comfortable in. Sure, it had been a work uniform at first, though now it was more of a refusal to surrender to his condition.
    Sliding shut the open door facing the garden all those in the dormitory could step out to, his actions were given pause. The sky shrieked like glass continents scraping together, some mighty invisble ice floes hewn of spirits sounding their complaints into the air.
    Foetid waves of spiritual sensation crept across his skin, like the smell and sight of a half-dead corpse pile.
    The only combat-able monk gifted with a fullbring bit his upper lip. Though his mind urged him to stay fixed in place, to heal and rest, his heart burned with a lust to chase and confront another potential chance at his revenge.
    Stepping through the other door in his room, out through the other side to a view across the cityscape, amber eyes searched the sun-stained horizon for the slightest sign of the bone-faced thing.
    A screaming black tear peeled free of the broken golden eye in the sky, gargantuan in scale. A warming hand seized the cloth-wrapped wooden charm in his pocket, squeezing hard as it erupted into molten ooze. Evaporating from his clothes without effect this conjuration birthed sparks about his bandaged collarbone. Sparks in turn gave birth to splinters of glowing iron flowing together before spiralling down into the hidden holes in his skeleton. Dressing of his sheathing wound reduced to ash, the vigour of soul magic urged the vengeance-hungering worshipper to propel himself, a forge-hued blur flitting along the path least-seen to meet the giant of the dead upon the altar of their arrival.

Lazarus, still looking skyward, would sigh a heavy breathe of aggravation, shoulders falling a bit as he just tossed the small to go box of food he was carrying in the trash. Assuming he would either not be in any shape to eat it after, or it would be cold and soggy, the Quincy would discard of the food before taking to an alleyway to not be seen. From here he'd allow the reishi around him to come together under his feet, the small platform appearing like a disc he could ride on. Said disc would carry him into the air with ease, quick enough to not be seen easily, but not so quick that it'd harm him or potentially throw him off.

"You've got to be kidding me with this shit recently, how many of you are gonna made a day trip out of coming to the human realm?"

Words that'd never reach the obelisk of a creature towering overhead, his frustration growing as he held his left hand out to gather reishi. As quickly as it had been gathered, it would erupt into life in his hand, a long bow of pure energy resting comfortably in his palm as he got to a height that would allow him to count out the hollows buzzing like flies around the Gillian. So far it looked like there were six total, but with a tear that wide he'd bet there would be more, so the Quincy would get to work on taking out the small fry. Gripping the string between two fingers, Lazarus would pull back slowly, the action drawing reishi in as he shaped it with his reiryoku, a thin but substantial arrow forming on the edge of that string. One second would go by, two seconds, his chest rising and falling as he lined up the shot, the subtle sway coming to a stop as he let that third breathe leave him. It was the in between moments that made the best times to fire, in between breathes, in between heart beats, a snipers aim was what it required from this distance. The arrow would be loosed in just such a time, splitting the air to get too its target, the sound of mask cracking and shattering as it met it's mark, the hollow in question now being burned from existence thanks to the Quincy.

As the shape of the hollow grew, singing stronger their putrid discord into the symphony of spirits, Itsuki found feelings frothing. Splashing about the walls of his ailing heart, his soul reached up into his mind to grasp at memories. The sensation of that swift movement in the desert, the third eye's newer, refined focus. Stamping the sensation upon the palm of his prying power, a whispered prayer to Fujin fled him.
I    tsuki held the image in his heart and exhaled the internalised prayer in a single breath. Winds as warm as bellows through the forge drove him forth in a mighty pulse, sparks littering the air where feet met spiritual friction.
    Harder and faster he soared, cool torrents of pure air battering his unaccustomed eyes. Led by the blurs beyond tear-slaked vision and the sensation of that shadow, the monk soon barreled into the alleyway. Reflexes, inaccuracy and little practice left him bouncing wall to wall in glimmering splashes.
    Zig-zagging clumsily above Lazarus, the adrenaline-rushed devout half-landed, half-crashed into a fire escape. Two of the brackets beneath him whined and bent, leaving him clutching white knuckled to the railling with a yelp of surprise. The whine faded to a groan, the shakey platform steadying into silence.
    "Always a pleasure to see a familiar face!" Called down the already sweating traveller, releasing just one hand to wave to the familiar sensation and silhouette rendering clearer in the alley. Beneath his shoes, globules of liquid metal oozed away in stringy droplets where his magics had impacted.
    Apparently, in all the excitement, the amateur hadn't even realised the hollow in question had been obliterated.

Lazarus paused at the new arrival, more marveling at how he managed to fumble his way into a fire escape, stepping to the side to avoid the bubbling mass of molten metal falling from above. He'd adjusts the reishi platform to widen, riding it up to meet the other with a raised brow, not wanting to get too close to the man oozing liquid metal.

"I see we've crossed paths again, this could actually work well for us if we work together. Tell you what, why don't you work on the smaller hollows coming out of the tear, I'll draw attention from the big guy until you're done. After that we can focus fire against the Menos until it either leaves or dies, I don't really care which happens first."

Lazarus didn't bother to wait for a response, sensing the behemoth on the move, though slow going as it was, it gained distance on size alone. Rising like an elevator through the alleyway, he'd pass by the tops of the buildings and keep going skyward, seeing a grouping of smaller hollows. He counted seven of them so far, but he would venture a guess that more might come out if left to their own devices. turning his attention to the massive monolith of a hollow, Lazarus would pull back his bowstring, concentrating an arrow with highly dense reishi particles. Loosing the arrow, it would travel through the air for a handful of seconds before meeting it's mark, exploding in a burst of reishi against the size of the monsters head. As the cloud of reishi dissipated , there was nothing bigger than a small divot in the flesh of the beast, though it's attention did turn towards the thing that attacked it, red eyes glowing ominously as it let out a low rumble.

Somewhere between the handful of medication and the struggle against dragons, demons and the 'favour', Itsuki had lost what thin layer of thicker skin he thought he had developed.
    The monk's lips parted to reply in affirmation, only to be pre-empted by the disappearing back of the quick-shot.
    "Quite the professional." He remarked to nobody in particular.
    With a high-pitched complaint of the fire escape the amateur hauled himself up and over, a falling wisp of blessed winds colouring the air slowing his descent. Finding his footing upon bent knees with a grumble of complaint, it wasn't long before the smartly clad battle-worn had yanked free a glowing nail and set about acquiring his targets.
    His unseen third eye rolled open and darted to and fro, prying spiritual currents. The harsh static edge of Lazarus' own ethereal signature climbing skywards left him lamenting his decision to vault down.
    The weeping wound in the sun's radiance birthed more black shapes crowned in disfigured white, preceded by their wretched auras impinged upon the world of the living. Easing free two more nails to be held lodged betwixt fingers, the gates of practiced memory flooded his lips with whisper incantations.
    More rushing gusts of wind came, gouts blustering into existence with each propulsed step upon the air. As eager as his efforts were, imprecision and inexperience left his climb wobbling from left to right, dancing back and forth about a linearly upwards progression.
    Electricity crackled about the searing nails in his hand, the leering eyes behind masks of bone coming into view, misshapen silhouettes struggling to stretch fully free of their birth canal. Committing to leaving the titan to the more experienced, the wrathful monk seized his opportunity. Thrusting forth one of the surging nails in a free hand towards the eyes of one of these fell creatures, the head of the nail unravelling to unveil a pinpoint of white light with accompanying drumbeat in the air. Bounding a retreat away from the lance of white light bursting into thunderous existence, a wave of his hand dissolved the remaining two nails into tomoe rendered of black fire in the air, twin drumbeats thudding out the emergence of two more rushes of white lightning towards the small cluster of foes.

Thankfully his assessment of the fullbringer had been on point, sensing the man dispatch a few of the hollows in quick succession, though the lack of precision and grace left the impression that this might be a bit harder than originally anticipated. His attention would be snapped back to the Menos as he heard and felt the rumbling of movement behind him, turning to come face to palm with a massive white hand. Quick thinking and instinct got him out of the way, a hazy blur of movement and the platform would be all that was left to shatter against the force of the Gillians swipe. Lazarus would reappear further back, string at the tower of a hollow with a raised brow, more speaking to himself than anything else.

"Good to know I've got your attention, let's keep it that way..."

While he continued to pepper this monstrosity with arrows, down below that same group who had managed to call upon the Gillian would make their way to the surface, clattering out of an apartment building to try and find their work first hand. The handful of delinquents turned worshippers had found themselves prowling the streets for what they might have caused, only to find the massive beast some handful of blocks away. A cacophony of shouts and cheers could be heard as they ran towards their new Lord as it were, verbally patting themselves on the backs for having accomplished such a feat. Little did they know the true intentions of this behemoth, and what it could cost them if they came close enough to draw it's attention.

"Got to keep moving!" Affirmed the less experienced of the duo to himself.
    With another sweltering bluster the warrior priest arced through the air as the cacophonous display of destructive dance played out between the giant and the archer. Urging his mind away from the momentary glance, more distance had been closed than accounted for.
    Scrambling at his collarbone for not-yet reformed nails from the drilled holes still bubbling with liquid spirit-iron, Itsuki squished together a handful of the messy mass with a whispered blessing. Flinging the string of glowing slag towards the outstretched arms of a spidery silhouette with some slender snake mask, the metal burst apart into a cloud of purifying salts.
    Scalding and searing, the vengeful dead's skin bubbled and hissed as molten bootprints landed upon their mask.
    Amber eyes held wide and wild, breath caught in tension at the size of the thing he'd perched upon. Each tooth was as long as his foot and thrice as wide, the sickly green glow of cursed eyes writhing in pain in their sockets.
    As the fell creature parted their ossified maw the makeshift onmyoji finally exhaled, a tiny smattering of his movement abilities pressed propelling just above the gnashing teeth.
    Sensing opportunity, the next wide parting of that foul maw was met with another arcane plume of metal, salting the creature down to the core.
    As the beast shrieked, the priest hunched low to keep balance upon their snout. Sliding free a finally reformed nail of his fullbring, treated the sinister shadow to a follow-up course of byakurai to their melting guts.
    Here upon the friction of reishi oozing from the sun's bloody wound in the sky the screams of his victim drowned out the celebrations below.
    As the shape beneath him disintegrated, the rush of wind deafened him. Sweating profusely from the exertion with the pain of strain on his heart, the monk made efforts to gather his breath and magic. A prying third eye picked out targets amongst the unliving whilst his mortal gaze finally registered the cheering procession of the occult.
    Turning that invisible sense down against them, the faintest sparkle of something unusual seemed to emanate from the group as a whole, some parasitic influence, perhaps?
    Adrenaline coursing through him snapped his attention back to the matter at hand. This was no time for distractions! Softening his fall, the drop of a rock became a cushioned landing into a scaldingly hot cloud.
    Deposited neatly upon the pavement once more, Itsuki clutched his breast against the stitch and made to catch his breath whilst his fullbring bled new implements peering out from his skin.

Lazarus kept just within the reach of the Menos, mostly wanting to keep it focused solely on himself and not the surrounding buildings, or worse the people inside them. Each arrow would be met with some kind of roar or growl, those massive gloved palms coming up to swat this way and that, vain attempts to crush the fly that was impeding the Gillian in it's path to the humans who had drawn it's attention. The last attempt got dangerously close, only inches from making contact with the Quincy as the gust of air behind said hand threatened to launch him away. Thankfully the footholds made in his reishi platform were holding him up, keeping him from succumbing to the force of the swings.

"What is going on with that guy..."

the fluctuations in the reiatsu of his fullbringer partner gave him pause, his attention falling down towards the man down below as he concentrated. From this far away it seemed like inexperience, but from the brief passing he had Lazarus could see the bandages and such poking out from the collar of his shirt or sleeve, leading him to believe that perhaps the man was injured. This moment of focus would cost him though, as the sensation of air around him would be the only indicator of the unprompted attack from the behemoth above. Quick thinking and instinct would allow him to dive between the fingers of the monster looming over him, though he'd have to build a hasty reishi platform under him to avoid falling to the ground below, attention snapping back to the gillian who was glowering at him from behind that snowy mask. All the while Lazarus was unaware of the small group of insane humans making their way ever closer to the massive creature, more so focused on not becoming the fly that got caught with the swatter.

Footsteps drew closer, the half-cut blood burner belting out another prayer-woven incantation. Forge-hot nails bled free admist blackened flame, pouring down into searing orbs dotting the air in a ring about their conjuror. The fire about his neck peeled away, thinning out to thread the beads shedding droplets skywards, ever holding their size.
    The sting of the open wound in his collarbone weeping crimson left the monk's jaw clenched. Focusing his mind through the fast-fading sharpened pain, Itsuki set about listing the current goings-on in his mind.
    Firstly, there was the giant of the dead flailing and swiping and swatting at the only other ally he could divine in the moment.
    Second, a cohort of lessers better fitted to his own talents had accompanied the towering shadow and begged for his attentions lest they turn their hunger upon the innocents.
    Lastly, a cheering and clumsy procession of irregulars littered with unusual activities upon their souls were clamouring their way toward what should have been, to them, an intangible escapade.
    A pained pulse quickened as a black tongued exhaust of the same rosary-knitting fire licked up at the air, simultaneously cauterising and perpetuating the 'medium' of his fullbring. Now was not the time to stand rooted in place. Lazarus had instructed him to take action, it was the time to do so.
    The static-wreathed archer could weather the love-taps, he hoped.
    Answering the call of his open hand the profaned prayer beads flowed about him, threads shrinking down to float as if upon the ocean in the air about his hands clasped in prayer, single bead and thread either side tucked 'neath thumbs.
    Winds lashed at him from heel to head, cushioning warmth propelling him up towards another hybrid bastard wearing a petrified expression. Many-legged and sparsefuly fuzzed, thick membranous wings unfurled as the heavy buzz of the great vulture necked and headed fly raised itself up.
    A disgusting squawk spilled a gush of red ooze where it once hunched, foul smelling and hissing as it deformed brick and mortar.
    The monk lurched back against his hefty breeze, hot air rushing past him as with a bellowing cry several of his beads lept free of their binding.     Flame-tailed meteors of hell-hot metal, set to explode upon touching the cursed body's flesh, two lesser siblings of theirs peeled free.
    Itsuki's eyes had turned to the shadow and the archer, two drumbeats, two symbols and two lances of light jousting towards the menos's mask in attempt to privde this partner an opening.
    "People are coming!" He cried out, another spontaneous scirocco sending him back towards his assigned marks.
    For better or worse, Itsuki's panicked heart had opted to try and stick to the more experienced person's instructions.

the sensation of the attack came with the reish of the man below, something Lazarus could tell from feel alone, watching as they struck true, the beast roaring and leaning from the attack. His eyes would widen at the news of people, though this small opening would be capitalize don immediately by the Quincy. His stance would change, the highly dense reishi in the bow coalescing around his hand as he vanished from sight. The crimson haired healer would reappear mere inches from the face of this Gillian, reiatsu flaring as he thrust his palm forward, laser focused on the behemoth in front of him as a blast of reishi and force erupted from his palm in spectacular fashion. This strike would be enough to cause the titan of a hollow to stumble, taking a step back as it's masked face lurched to the side violently.

Exhaling a deep sigh of tension, Lazarus would expand his mind, searching for any people congregating in mass. His eyes snapped to the group of people shouting and chanting something far below him, brows furrowing as they seemed focused on the Menos itself. He'd pluck a handful of small silver tubes from his pocket, charging one up with extra reishi before tossing it at the Gillian still trying to get it's bearings. It's explode in a plume of highly concentrated reishi, a reishi bomb if one could call it that, as the Quincy turned and slingshoted himself towards the group of people. His landing would be less than graceful, gripping the air to form long dragging claw marks of reishi as a way to slow his descent, landing in front of the group of people with a rather annoyed look on his face.

"Oh we're gonna have one hell of a talk after I deal with this, stay put."

It wasn't so much a request as a fact he'd written into existence, as one of the silver tubes in his palm would spring to life before their eyes. It'd expand and stretch like some liquid metal, shaping a dome around the group to keep them in place and out of harms way for the time being. Turning his attention back the the obelisk of a hollow from before, he was slightly satisfied with the fracture point on the edge of it's mask, though the piercing stare and feeling of reishi concentrating at it's mouth would soon wipe that feeling away. The point where teeth would meet on the mask would glow and shimmer, opening as if to inhale ambient reishi to create the cero that the Menos was aiming at the Quincy. Quick as could be he'd take to the sky again, yelling out to the less experienced of the two of them as he tried to draw attention skyward instead of down at the street.

"Cero incoming, get outta the way or throw up a barrier!"

Illuminated by the blasts of reishi, with his back to the blinding light the priest descended from the pinnacle of his magical bound.
    "Relinquish your remains!" He cried out in curse of the polluted spirits clinging to the realm like symptoms of disease.
Vitriol in voice and hand, blood magics burned black as beads burst into a salvo of brilliant white, black threads severing to sew themselves into his skin. A dark depiction of the orochi rendered itself upon his back, coiling about his shoulders and arms. Each mouth gaped wide, the makeshift tattoo drinking in remnants of reishi from techniques dispensed by all involved.
    The bloated fly torn to shreds, the monk gathered his stolen essence as beads regrew, swelling from mere sparks into and untethered, orbiting ring about him once more.
    How many was that now, two, three? It mattered little. He would just-
"Cero incoming, get outta the way or throw up a barrier!" Came the warning.
    Clattering to the pavement, threads from his supernatural furnishing stood on end, adrift in the air from their anchors for a moment. Turning at last to peer, it dawned upon him this latest glow was not in fact from the expert actions of his Quincy associate.
It wasn't like this thing was aiming for him but... what the fuck was a cero, how big would the explosion be? At least Lazarus seemed to be guiding this thing up and away from collateral damage.
    There, thought ceased. Spiritual energy thrummed under his skin in time with his heart, a ripple of orange leaving part-melted tarmac behind as it propelled him back up upon the winds, away from both Lazarus and the Menos.
    Perhaps, if fortune smiled, it would be soon enough and fast enough to avoid perishing.

To his own surprise, the Menos would shift it's gaze and lean back, the crimson orb of energy thrumming violently as it continued to concentrate the reishi into a ball of destruction. Lazarus had only seen one or two of these in his time so knowing the timing of when it would be fired was still hit or miss for him, something that would be called into question very soon. He'd clear the last of the rooftops in the area as he climbed the sky, a dot of color streaking across the clouds as he found a place high enough up to avoid blowing builds apart.

"Let's hope I get this ri-"

The words hadn't even left his mouth before the orb of power completed itself, firing off in a beam straight at the Quincy high in the sky. His visage would disappear from view as the concentrated beam overtook him, followed by a subsequent explosion as it washed over the clouds and sky alike, slowly fading away in lines of red. The ivory teeth would part as a roar erupted from the Gillian, as if celebrating a job well done for itself. The plume of smoke from the explosion would slowly drift away, the winds carrying it much like the clouds, revealing the sight of the Quincy in question.

What was once a well put suit and tie like outfit now stood in tatters over the chest and shoulders, his once tied back hair now free and flowing in the breeze, a mane of crimson against the blue backsplash of sky. His chest rose and fell heavily with the panting he was doing, a multitude of damage raked over his body from the attack, though he stood with an arm outstretched, the remnants of those silver tubes falling out from between his scorched fingers. He hadn't been quick enough to escape the blast, but with just enough intuition Lazarus had detonated the silver tubes, trying to lessen the blast on himself by providing a counter force against it. The small reishi platform he stood on was still held strong, though his knee's would falter and threaten to buckle as he tried his best to regain his bearings after the attack.