Post by Yaksha Dokuja on May 7, 2018 12:09:41 GMT -5
(Training for SP, as well as chowing down for CTP.)
Eaten: 9 Class 7 hollows, 2 class 7 Arrancar, 1 Class 6 hollow
How long had it been since Yaksha had fed without concern for propriety, or his status, or anything but the sheer thrill of the hunt? He'd spent so many months and years in the human world, getting by with scant morsels here and there, like a man living on bread and water. It had left him feeling irritable, unable to really think or hold a proper conversation lately. Everyone he met struck him as unbearably boring, and it seemed so very simple to just reach out and snuff them out, like someone pinching out a candle. But he knew that there was no good outcome to something like that; he'd eaten humans a few times, to be sure, but never without good cause, and never without some degree of guilt. In moments like these, with the thought of fresh blood and flesh yielding beneath his jaws, Yaksha went home.
Now, as he skulked along the sands, he sensed it, only a few hundred yards off, on the other side of a dune. There were three hollows, all gathered around what seemed to be the decaying corpse of a Gillian. He began to subtly position himself atop the dune, moving with the skulking prowl of a predator who had no doubt whatsoever that it could strike down its prey in a single blow. He had already decided that, if any of them attempted to run, he'd simply let them; it wouldn't hurt that badly to lose one more meal, and the chances of some other scavenger coming to snag his kill before he could actually chow down was too high. So he clamored atop the dune, watching the three of them eating in absolute silence. It was odd, somehow triggering a sense of wrongness in Yaksha's head. Why should these three have some sort of camaraderie? Simply because they were all predators? Didn't any of them understanding what organic solidarity was?
I've changed my mind. All three of them are going to die. If I don't get to feast, so be it. There's a lesson they must learn here.
This thought completed, Yaksha launched himself from atop the dune, landing with both feet onto the back of the smallest hollow, which resembled an oversized housecat. He felt a satisfying crunch beneath his feet, and reached down with a claw to rake across its head, giving no opportunity for it to recover and join the fight that was to come. Between its now mangled eyes and its broken back, the beast would have no option but to sit there, listening on in pain and fear as Yaksha tussled with its two compatriots. A fitting torment for someone as pitiful as him.
As he was leaning down, poised to tighten his jaws around the crippled hollow's neck and crush it, to savor the first taste of a new kill, to get his tanks full for the battle to come, he could already sense as much as see it, in a way that he likely could've never put to words. He leaned backwards, with a fluidity and queer bonelessness that few other creatures could've managed, leaning at very nearly a parallel line from the sands, to avoid an uppercut that had been aimed towards his head, intent to either knock it off entirely or leave him sprawled on the ground, easy prey for the second hollow. He let out a low, delighted chuckle, and lashed out with a foot towards this hollow, which resembled some strange mix between a ram and a gorilla; all thick, heavy slabs of muscle on its upper body, and giant curling horns. But its lower body was remarkably poorly-built, and a single well-placed kick left it flinching for a moment, and gave Yaksha all the time he needed to get back to a full standing position.
"You do realize that the entire point of bipedal movement over quadrapedal is that you -don't- let your legs get hit, right?"
He swayed backwards, kicking off of the disabled hollow to avoid another sweeping blow, this one telegraphed far in advance. He landed on the sand, and began to rake his clawed fingers through them, letting each individual grain slide against his scales, and focus his mind for the fight to come. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, carefully, watching as the creature took a four-legged stance, clearly prepared to pounce or charge. Pouncing was, in Yaksha's eyes, too stupid a move to contemplate seriously; any creature that size would find itself unable to push away from the ground long enough to get close to him, and even if it did it would need an extra second to orient itself. Easy shot. His tail coiled beneath himself, ready to lash out in the event something -did- come from above, as he met eyes with the meathead.
After three seconds, it finally released an enormous bellow, and charged directly for Yaksha...who threw a handful of sand without any hesitation or fanfare, circling around it as the creature let out a snort of frustration and anger. He swiped down with his claw towards one of its tiny, unprotected legs, only for his tail to lash upwards at something he only barely actually saw, batting it aside and eliciting a hiss of irritation. His tail, stinging from the pain almost as if it had just struck a baseball going at 90 mph, had distracted him from an otherwise easy strike, and left his opponent time enough to plant both knuckles firmly on the ground, raising its back legs in a mule kick that once more may have killed him if he weren't quite so agile. Yaksha fell backwards entirely this time, as if he were about to land in water, and for a moment it looked like he was a perfect target for a follow-up strike, until his tail slammed into the ground hard enough to send him careening in a half-crescent, landing a good couple arms' lengths from the hollow. Too dim to realize this, the beast had already turned, and slammed its fist into the sands, sending up a puff of sand that obscured vision nicely. Yaksha, relatively unimpeded by this change, leapt forward, prepared to coil his tail around its throat and simply start choking it out.
Once more, his plans were thwarted by a well-placed projectile, slamming into his back and robbing him of momentum. He ended up skidding across the sands, landing a few paces away from the ape-like hollow, and letting out another grunt of irritation. This time, he hadn't been prepared, and he could already guess why. Turning his head towards the sky, he could see a creature gliding past in a slow descent, a pair of flaps attached to its thin, spindly arms slowing its descent. He let out a small chuckle of delight at seeing that, and even clapped for a second, before he had to open his mouth in a huge, grotesque display that resembled a snake with its jaw unhinged, as he shot his head forward to take a bite out of the leg of the ape that had, in what it had probably thought was a great act of subtlety, had walked over within arms' reach as he was looking up.
What did he think was going to happen? That I'd look back down, see his eyes, and say 'oh crap'? Oh, gods, this is what counts as my -peer- in this world.
He gulped down the roughly fist-sized chunk of flesh he'd managed to tear off the ape hollow, and lashed out with his tail to redirect its fist ever so slightly, as he once more took to his feet. He could already see red fluids staining the sands, and the hollow's expression was one of mingled pain and confusion as it leaned forward for a headbutt. Yaksha never even bothered to dodge, instead simply kicking at its injured leg, forcing it to buckle and turning the forward motion into an oblique angle, that left him faceplanting into the dirt. This time, Yaksha took no chances, never letting his vision leave the sky as he raked across the creature's neck two, three, five times, letting more and more blood stain the sands, until he felt no more struggling.
"Looks like your comrades weren't much good at all. Why are you even still here, hm? You can fly. Or glide, at least. And I can tell you're at least a bit more clever, or powerful, than those two are."
"You're not nearly as clever as you think you are."
"Oh, I disagree. My wits are so sharp, I sometimes fear cutting myself."
The only reply to this was another projectile, this time from ground level, flung through the cloud of settling sand the hollow had created earlier. This one landed squarely on Yaksha's shoulder, turning the entire limb as numb as if he'd plunged it into cold water, and making him laugh hysterically. He rose his other hand, opening and closing it as if he were trying to wave, and walking slowly towards the cloud.
"How many more of those can you throw? Two? Three? Even if it's five or six, it's a gamble. One-on-one now, and you don't dare try and toss another of those while I'm watching you. Fast they may be, but not so fast I can't see them coming. And frankly, your aim is shit. If I'm paying attention, you won't hit."
"You talk too much."
This said, another bala was launched, only for Yaksha to duck it entirely, and begin to clamor forward, through the gusts of sand, to see the adorably puff-cheeked hollow staring at him with absolute venom. It had already raised one of its arms in front of its torso and head, as if it were wielding a shield, eliciting a faint exhalation of polite interest from Yaksha, as he began to circle the hollow, trying to get behind it. The creature managed to keep pace with him, always keeping its limb between its vulnerable limbs and its opponent, as he seemed to examine it for some sort of weakness.
"That's four. Getting a little worn out? Feeling your limbs grow heavy? My arm's fine, by the way. I can already flex my fingers a bit. I'm only going to get stronger, and you're only going to get weaker. You relied too much on your friends to keep your targets busy. You should've focused more on your aim, and then you might've been able to keep me from getting this close."
"Shut up."
Yaksha let out a loud, delighted cackle, raking both hands against the sand, before he rose to his full height, long greenish strands of hair leading off from the back of his head like moss. They began to twitch and writhe as he watched the hollow circling, its hand trembling ever so slightly. Keeping any limb steady at that level of elevation had to be exhausting, something that could only be held for a minute or two...and even if it swapped to its other hand, that left Yaksha with a split second to make his attack.
He watched the tremors and the hesitation with rapt attention, tongue poking free from his mouth as he did, tail thrashing back and forth. He said nothing else, simply observed and waited. It was nearly five minutes before the hand started to descend, and at that exact moment Yaksha sprung with speed like a striking snake. The hollow, clever as it was, had already raised its other hand to protect its chest and head. But Yaksha's target was nowhere near the chest, or head. With as much speed as he could manage, he clamped his teeth around the descending arm, snapping the bones in it and jerking the creature forward. Stumbling and cursing, it met Yaksha's tail coming upwards, head slamming back into the dirt, as Yaksha let out a low crooning sigh.
"God, dealing with hollows is such childs' play."
"Then how about you deal with us, eh? It's the least you can do, after messing up our cute mascota."
Crap.
Eaten: 9 Class 7 hollows, 2 class 7 Arrancar, 1 Class 6 hollow
How long had it been since Yaksha had fed without concern for propriety, or his status, or anything but the sheer thrill of the hunt? He'd spent so many months and years in the human world, getting by with scant morsels here and there, like a man living on bread and water. It had left him feeling irritable, unable to really think or hold a proper conversation lately. Everyone he met struck him as unbearably boring, and it seemed so very simple to just reach out and snuff them out, like someone pinching out a candle. But he knew that there was no good outcome to something like that; he'd eaten humans a few times, to be sure, but never without good cause, and never without some degree of guilt. In moments like these, with the thought of fresh blood and flesh yielding beneath his jaws, Yaksha went home.
Now, as he skulked along the sands, he sensed it, only a few hundred yards off, on the other side of a dune. There were three hollows, all gathered around what seemed to be the decaying corpse of a Gillian. He began to subtly position himself atop the dune, moving with the skulking prowl of a predator who had no doubt whatsoever that it could strike down its prey in a single blow. He had already decided that, if any of them attempted to run, he'd simply let them; it wouldn't hurt that badly to lose one more meal, and the chances of some other scavenger coming to snag his kill before he could actually chow down was too high. So he clamored atop the dune, watching the three of them eating in absolute silence. It was odd, somehow triggering a sense of wrongness in Yaksha's head. Why should these three have some sort of camaraderie? Simply because they were all predators? Didn't any of them understanding what organic solidarity was?
I've changed my mind. All three of them are going to die. If I don't get to feast, so be it. There's a lesson they must learn here.
This thought completed, Yaksha launched himself from atop the dune, landing with both feet onto the back of the smallest hollow, which resembled an oversized housecat. He felt a satisfying crunch beneath his feet, and reached down with a claw to rake across its head, giving no opportunity for it to recover and join the fight that was to come. Between its now mangled eyes and its broken back, the beast would have no option but to sit there, listening on in pain and fear as Yaksha tussled with its two compatriots. A fitting torment for someone as pitiful as him.
As he was leaning down, poised to tighten his jaws around the crippled hollow's neck and crush it, to savor the first taste of a new kill, to get his tanks full for the battle to come, he could already sense as much as see it, in a way that he likely could've never put to words. He leaned backwards, with a fluidity and queer bonelessness that few other creatures could've managed, leaning at very nearly a parallel line from the sands, to avoid an uppercut that had been aimed towards his head, intent to either knock it off entirely or leave him sprawled on the ground, easy prey for the second hollow. He let out a low, delighted chuckle, and lashed out with a foot towards this hollow, which resembled some strange mix between a ram and a gorilla; all thick, heavy slabs of muscle on its upper body, and giant curling horns. But its lower body was remarkably poorly-built, and a single well-placed kick left it flinching for a moment, and gave Yaksha all the time he needed to get back to a full standing position.
"You do realize that the entire point of bipedal movement over quadrapedal is that you -don't- let your legs get hit, right?"
He swayed backwards, kicking off of the disabled hollow to avoid another sweeping blow, this one telegraphed far in advance. He landed on the sand, and began to rake his clawed fingers through them, letting each individual grain slide against his scales, and focus his mind for the fight to come. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, carefully, watching as the creature took a four-legged stance, clearly prepared to pounce or charge. Pouncing was, in Yaksha's eyes, too stupid a move to contemplate seriously; any creature that size would find itself unable to push away from the ground long enough to get close to him, and even if it did it would need an extra second to orient itself. Easy shot. His tail coiled beneath himself, ready to lash out in the event something -did- come from above, as he met eyes with the meathead.
After three seconds, it finally released an enormous bellow, and charged directly for Yaksha...who threw a handful of sand without any hesitation or fanfare, circling around it as the creature let out a snort of frustration and anger. He swiped down with his claw towards one of its tiny, unprotected legs, only for his tail to lash upwards at something he only barely actually saw, batting it aside and eliciting a hiss of irritation. His tail, stinging from the pain almost as if it had just struck a baseball going at 90 mph, had distracted him from an otherwise easy strike, and left his opponent time enough to plant both knuckles firmly on the ground, raising its back legs in a mule kick that once more may have killed him if he weren't quite so agile. Yaksha fell backwards entirely this time, as if he were about to land in water, and for a moment it looked like he was a perfect target for a follow-up strike, until his tail slammed into the ground hard enough to send him careening in a half-crescent, landing a good couple arms' lengths from the hollow. Too dim to realize this, the beast had already turned, and slammed its fist into the sands, sending up a puff of sand that obscured vision nicely. Yaksha, relatively unimpeded by this change, leapt forward, prepared to coil his tail around its throat and simply start choking it out.
Once more, his plans were thwarted by a well-placed projectile, slamming into his back and robbing him of momentum. He ended up skidding across the sands, landing a few paces away from the ape-like hollow, and letting out another grunt of irritation. This time, he hadn't been prepared, and he could already guess why. Turning his head towards the sky, he could see a creature gliding past in a slow descent, a pair of flaps attached to its thin, spindly arms slowing its descent. He let out a small chuckle of delight at seeing that, and even clapped for a second, before he had to open his mouth in a huge, grotesque display that resembled a snake with its jaw unhinged, as he shot his head forward to take a bite out of the leg of the ape that had, in what it had probably thought was a great act of subtlety, had walked over within arms' reach as he was looking up.
What did he think was going to happen? That I'd look back down, see his eyes, and say 'oh crap'? Oh, gods, this is what counts as my -peer- in this world.
He gulped down the roughly fist-sized chunk of flesh he'd managed to tear off the ape hollow, and lashed out with his tail to redirect its fist ever so slightly, as he once more took to his feet. He could already see red fluids staining the sands, and the hollow's expression was one of mingled pain and confusion as it leaned forward for a headbutt. Yaksha never even bothered to dodge, instead simply kicking at its injured leg, forcing it to buckle and turning the forward motion into an oblique angle, that left him faceplanting into the dirt. This time, Yaksha took no chances, never letting his vision leave the sky as he raked across the creature's neck two, three, five times, letting more and more blood stain the sands, until he felt no more struggling.
"Looks like your comrades weren't much good at all. Why are you even still here, hm? You can fly. Or glide, at least. And I can tell you're at least a bit more clever, or powerful, than those two are."
"You're not nearly as clever as you think you are."
"Oh, I disagree. My wits are so sharp, I sometimes fear cutting myself."
The only reply to this was another projectile, this time from ground level, flung through the cloud of settling sand the hollow had created earlier. This one landed squarely on Yaksha's shoulder, turning the entire limb as numb as if he'd plunged it into cold water, and making him laugh hysterically. He rose his other hand, opening and closing it as if he were trying to wave, and walking slowly towards the cloud.
"How many more of those can you throw? Two? Three? Even if it's five or six, it's a gamble. One-on-one now, and you don't dare try and toss another of those while I'm watching you. Fast they may be, but not so fast I can't see them coming. And frankly, your aim is shit. If I'm paying attention, you won't hit."
"You talk too much."
This said, another bala was launched, only for Yaksha to duck it entirely, and begin to clamor forward, through the gusts of sand, to see the adorably puff-cheeked hollow staring at him with absolute venom. It had already raised one of its arms in front of its torso and head, as if it were wielding a shield, eliciting a faint exhalation of polite interest from Yaksha, as he began to circle the hollow, trying to get behind it. The creature managed to keep pace with him, always keeping its limb between its vulnerable limbs and its opponent, as he seemed to examine it for some sort of weakness.
"That's four. Getting a little worn out? Feeling your limbs grow heavy? My arm's fine, by the way. I can already flex my fingers a bit. I'm only going to get stronger, and you're only going to get weaker. You relied too much on your friends to keep your targets busy. You should've focused more on your aim, and then you might've been able to keep me from getting this close."
"Shut up."
Yaksha let out a loud, delighted cackle, raking both hands against the sand, before he rose to his full height, long greenish strands of hair leading off from the back of his head like moss. They began to twitch and writhe as he watched the hollow circling, its hand trembling ever so slightly. Keeping any limb steady at that level of elevation had to be exhausting, something that could only be held for a minute or two...and even if it swapped to its other hand, that left Yaksha with a split second to make his attack.
He watched the tremors and the hesitation with rapt attention, tongue poking free from his mouth as he did, tail thrashing back and forth. He said nothing else, simply observed and waited. It was nearly five minutes before the hand started to descend, and at that exact moment Yaksha sprung with speed like a striking snake. The hollow, clever as it was, had already raised its other hand to protect its chest and head. But Yaksha's target was nowhere near the chest, or head. With as much speed as he could manage, he clamped his teeth around the descending arm, snapping the bones in it and jerking the creature forward. Stumbling and cursing, it met Yaksha's tail coming upwards, head slamming back into the dirt, as Yaksha let out a low crooning sigh.
"God, dealing with hollows is such childs' play."
"Then how about you deal with us, eh? It's the least you can do, after messing up our cute mascota."
Crap.