Post by Date Maharo on Dec 28, 2023 0:51:10 GMT -5
Maharo was frustrated. They had begun to communicate with their Zanpakuto spirit, but the most they ever got from it were short, disparaging remarks: "Not strong enough. Weak. Incapable." Maharo could at least understand those ones, but there was one message that had stuck in their mind: "Stop hiding." It was the only one that had been a command, rather than an insult. They told themselves that they didn't have a clue what it meant, but really, they had a strong suspicion that their Zanpakuto's spirit was taking issue with the mask. The mask that hid their face from the world and made them feel safe. They had to question why their own blade saw that as an issue.
It was quiet in this part of the outer Rukongai. Their Captain had asked Maharo to check up on a few districts, to see if they required any aid or relief that the Thirteenth could provide. A few of them were struggling with famine, most would require rebuilding and maintenance as well as temporary housing for those who needed it, many were dealing with rampant thievery and would need more active patrols as well as further investigation into any factors that may be causing so many to turn to crime.
What really had Maharo worried though were several instances of sightings of a masked figure in the wilderness just outside the Rukon. From the descriptions they had been given, it was person-sized, which would likely mean a Vasto Lorde. Of course, Maharo wasn't actually worried about there being such a strong Hollow skulking about the edges of the Rukongai. They figured it was likely some child playing a cruel prank on everyone. That didn't mean that Maharo wouldn't bother putting a stop to it, however. The perpetrator was beginning to cause unrest, which could lead to mass panic. A concentrated effort wouldn't be necessary to stop such a nuisance, so Maharo was planning to track them down once they finished drafting reports on each district in their notepad.
With a soft sigh, Maharo closed their notepad after having taken note of how this district seemed to be widely abandoned in addition to the destruction of most buildings. Having investigated the area from the inside outward, the tall Shinigami found themselves on the edge of the wilderness, absent-mindedly examining the treeline. Maharo had some nostalgia for the sight, remembering how they would hide amongst the trees to escape the watchful eyes of others. It felt odd to be staring into the trees rather than staring out from them.
It was quiet in this part of the outer Rukongai. Their Captain had asked Maharo to check up on a few districts, to see if they required any aid or relief that the Thirteenth could provide. A few of them were struggling with famine, most would require rebuilding and maintenance as well as temporary housing for those who needed it, many were dealing with rampant thievery and would need more active patrols as well as further investigation into any factors that may be causing so many to turn to crime.
What really had Maharo worried though were several instances of sightings of a masked figure in the wilderness just outside the Rukon. From the descriptions they had been given, it was person-sized, which would likely mean a Vasto Lorde. Of course, Maharo wasn't actually worried about there being such a strong Hollow skulking about the edges of the Rukongai. They figured it was likely some child playing a cruel prank on everyone. That didn't mean that Maharo wouldn't bother putting a stop to it, however. The perpetrator was beginning to cause unrest, which could lead to mass panic. A concentrated effort wouldn't be necessary to stop such a nuisance, so Maharo was planning to track them down once they finished drafting reports on each district in their notepad.
With a soft sigh, Maharo closed their notepad after having taken note of how this district seemed to be widely abandoned in addition to the destruction of most buildings. Having investigated the area from the inside outward, the tall Shinigami found themselves on the edge of the wilderness, absent-mindedly examining the treeline. Maharo had some nostalgia for the sight, remembering how they would hide amongst the trees to escape the watchful eyes of others. It felt odd to be staring into the trees rather than staring out from them.