He'll Grow On You (Joint Training, R, NDE)

[MrDoctorDo]

(OoC: This is to be an introductory thread for Mika and Umaroth, the ThrillaZilla. Is going to be a barrel of laughs, and possibly dark jokes...who knows. Hopefully it will lead to each of the character's realizing some negatives in their personalities. Maybe change for the better? Or maybe just grow stronger in the face of opposition...either way, progress! So, let's get started.)

Why? A single word. A single syllable. An infinite number of interpretations. There are so many things for us to ask why about. Many things can be joyous. Lovers reassuring one another of mutual affection; by answering this question with tender sentiments. There are confusions. Questions over methods or systems. Curiosities scratching at the natural or unnatural ways, alike. Then comes misery. Sadness and tragedy. Events like death, expected or not. Situations like betrayal, loving or cold. As merciless and imbalanced as the reality often is, there is an abundance of such variety.Each and every soul knowing a taste of suffering. Many knowing it more intimately. Others knowing it from a far, obsessing on that distant catastrophe with fear and hesitation. Those untouched by horror often dwell on thoughts of it. Expectations and superstitions. On all of their lips, that permanent syllable of "why". What many never experience...is the intertwining of these events.

How many can turn to their lives and ask why; all while filled with mixing emotions of joy, fear...curiosity, or sorrow. How many really see life's uncertainties with a kaleidoscope's lens? With each of these perspectives lending a hue? None. Or, at least none should claim to. For such a claim is both defining and condemning. Anyone who turns to the great questions of their existence with feelings of joy and sorrow, apprehension and impatience...they are truly a cursed soul. Others will never sympathize with their complexity. They will never find solace for their variety of concerns.

Never with that taste the relief offered by a heaven of disconnection. Forever will the anchor themselves with their incessant why's. Questions and mysteries becoming shackles. Stubbornness and dissatisfaction becoming locks. Locks without keys. Ah, to bear the mighty burden of an Osen. To walk upon existence, cursed by the frailty which garden's one's soul and heart. How...absolutely fortunate those without curses are. No matter how unfortunate their fates or circumstances may be. Not even...if their struggles are identical in pain.

The Soul Society. Far too often is it called by this assumed name. Too frequently is it thought to be a place for only the masters who named it such. Yet, domain of the Shinigami or not, the mortal world was one of sufficient intrigue. A place governed by cruel, natural laws of exchange. An exchange that breeds competition and struggle; requiring sacrifice and death to sustain. All aspects of the material plane are defined by loss. Loss that often comes with great pain. Pain of insecurity; when valuables are lost. Pain of loneliness; when love is lost. Pain of injury; when well being is lost.

Pain...of hunger; when all other precious treasures are gone. Hunger. The compelling, deepest force. The last thing the living ever lose, just before the end. Hunger is not only life's final treasure, it is it's greatest evil. Devouring to survive is what creates all loss. The darkness that imbalances an otherwise perpetual system. Darkness...that in many ways, has an identity all it's own. One opposed to life. One that is broken and empty. One that comes crawling out of the shadows, in the coldest hours of the night. Such was the case this very evening; in a outer...more desperate districts of the Rukongai.

Oh, such a wondrous area this was. Filled with all walks of life. All types of spirits and haunts. Though for it's beauties, it carried with it evils. Now that the sun had set...the light which illuminated those beauties was gone. All throughout the suburbs and streets. Between buildings in alleys and hideaways. Sounds of steps could be heard. Often slow, frequently heavy. Even if someone was incapable of seeing the borrow that lingered in the streets...they could hear their steps. Many natives would dismiss the sounds. Bumps and tremors being nothing more than tricks of the mind and senses. Others would blame miniscule earthquakes, causing little to no actual harm. Then...then there were those who could hear more. Even some, who could see more. They would be audience to things more dreadful than earthquakes. They would witness things stranger than tricks of the mind. Humans possessing even the smallest fragment of spiritual connectivity, would hear the screaming. Outside their window. Outside their door.

Even far below their balconies' roost. Somewhere in the darkness of unlit corners. In the places where no life seemed to stir. Humans would he screams...most chilling and alive. For nothing could muster the same sort of terror that a life clamours at it's tragic end. Unnerving to the core, but fleeting. No matter how hard the humans surveyed or starred...they would never see the victims. Just long, deafening silences. Time spent in anxiety and shuddering anticipation. Always broken suddenly, by yet another soul-shivering scream. Only when they were lucky. For, it is quite awful to listen to a fellow human die in agony and fear. It is something wholly more horrific to hear the bloodcurdling roar of some...thing, that did the brutal act. All of these souls left to shake in their darken homes; wondering, "What's out there?!"

Ah, but some could brave the nightly avenues of Karakura with no hesitation. Some could walk freely without care. The distant sounds of fear stricken demises...not phasing them in the slightest. Often these brave, intuitive souls were not human. How could they be, and still be so free of mortal dread? They were often Shinigami, but not always. Sometimes monsters almost as savage as the hollow ones would come. Demons. Vampires. Even witches and warlocks with the capacity to manipulate the very fabric of reality itself. Then...there were those who appeared as beasts. Animalistic in looks, but not in soul or thought. Roguish souls who develop powerful spirits, but are haunted by the lingering of primal instincts. Sighting such rarities was challenge, indeed. They were not common. Nor were they very successful in their survival. Often forced to live solitary lives divided from any source of trust or community. It was such a soul that becomes the topic of this particular night.

One wandering through a quiet home...possessing no interest to mingle or dabble in the affairs of Humans or Reapers, alike. One such individual who would find that such desires might not always be acceptable possibilities. For the night became a rupture of sound and activity. The city shook with a particularly violent cry. One that was a mix of pain, and of ferocity. It was the bloodlusting cry of a Hollow on the hunt. A masked soul turned lively by the presentation of fresh prey. It came screeching through the night, and resounded quite closely. In time...the emptiness of the environment would be interrupted by the panting and pounding of a fledgling soul. The spirit of a young man, whose healthy spirit chain seemed only recently deceased. Like a passing breeze, the ghast went sprinting by. How odd to see; someone already dead, fleeing for their life. A sight that the unintended spectator would undoubtedly be accustomed to.

There was no time to talk. There was no way to capture the Plus who desperately sprinted by. For in the same moment that the figure emerged from the nearby park, so did his tormentor. A large body of black, lumbering forward like a fatted hog. It's form was wide and crept quite low on the ground. It seemed to slither, or even slide as it pursued. What was most clear of this Hollow was it's mask, as always. Taking the elongated, yet bloated design of a boar. The mask was detailed by curved ridges, and brandished four large tusks. The creature seemed to charge without fear or hesitation. Aiming straight for the Plus...or at least, where the Plus had been. Now, the spectator was all there was to approach. So the pig did so. Darting quicker than one might expect its chubbiness to manage. It was as though it were in a rage. Yet, there was no sound coming from it now. Having erupted from the foliage of the neighboring trees and shrubs, the monster now charged forward.

It continued to crawl and serpentine in it's advance. The closer it drew...the more clear it was that there were no stomping feet. Legs and arms which should have been sweeping to provide propulsion. Arching and stretching of a back, necessary motion for direction and force. None of these natural mechanisms were taking place. The Hollow seemed to just glide across the street surface. The surrounding buildings and structures forming a pin. A channel for the predator's rage to funnel. The eyes which should have appeared as burning red lights were absent. All three eye sockets were as dark and empty as a void. This creature was in all ways...an unorthodox, disturbing sight. Its nature and behavior should fill any onlooker with dread. If not with its savagery, then with its aberrant maneuvers. What would our spectator do? What response might be mustered against this bestial boogyman? Hopefully it would be something quick, powerful, and decisive. Such retorts are always the most stimulating to see.

[Deleted]

((OOC: The thread will be involving Umaroth instead of Garret, so some things needed some changing.))

The sun shown brightly down upon the surface of the lake, causing beautiful sparkles of light to adorn it. Anyone looking at this body of water would believe they were looking at a majestic piece of art, painted by mother nature herself to display for the world the beauty of nature. It really was quite the sight indeed, especially for the citizens of that village continuing on with their day. But the real show was not along the surface of that lake, but rather beneath. In that dark wet world was a being who was known as a deity by the spirits in that village. Foolish, yes, but they believed him to be the one who protected them.

They weren't completely wrong. What lived in that lake was by no means a deity yet wasn't some fictitious creature like Nessie. It did protect those villagers, but not because it was them it was protecting. The village was nestled along its territory, nothing more than that. So, beneath the surface of that lake in that cold wet world swam a creature far stronger and primal than man. It lived alone in that lake, not allowing anything it deemed a threat to survive.

Today, though, seemed like it would be different. Today it seemed as if nothing would go wrong. The water was clear, well for him anyways, the fish were plenty and the sun caused the water to be warmer than usual. Today seemed to be a good day. Beneath the still waters of that lake the only inhabitant of that underwater world swam, one end of the lake to another, laps around the shores, without much of a care in the world. His body undulating from side to side as he glided easily through the water, small flicks of his tail would propel him forward with such ease.

The creature beneath the lake was one of mother natures most confusing creatures. Unnatural in origin yet fitting right at home with nature itself, the Beast Clan were unorthodox animals. The one beneath the water, though, was far different than any other Beast Clan so far. His body was covered in dull black scales, perfect for hiding in the darkness of the lake. A plum of feathers ran along his head, sprouting between two jagged horns.

The reptile glided through the water, grass stroking alongside his underbelly as he traveled overhead. For him, this water was clear. So clear that it almost wasn't dark at all. His eyes had become adjusted for the depths or rather were born for this. He snapped at some fish, not quite wanting to eat them but to give them something to be scared of. Simple forms of entertainment were enough for this creature so that he would not get bored. Though he was capable of intelligence far beyond that of a simple beast, he had still not accessed his full potential yet.

Umaroth settled atop a fallen log, digging his clawed toes into the wood so that simply remained there. He pointed his head up, stretching his legs up so that the tip of his nose broke the surface of his water, exposing his nostrils to the air. He took a few breaths, filling his lungs with fresh revitalizing air. He didn't quite need to breath yet, but was planning on taking a nap and such he would want to take one for as long as he could. If he needed to breath then he would wake up, disturbing his nap and forcing him back to the surface. A breath now meant a longer nap for him.

And so he descended to the depths, nesting himself in a patch of lake grass. His eyes slowly closed and sleep was quickly upon him. How long did he lie there? How long did he remain in the mud? For around two hours. Instincts would awaken him, like some sort of biological cooking timer. Slowly opening his eyes he blinked, clearing away from the grogginess as he slowly freed himself from the mud. Once detached he began to ascend, his head breaking the surface of the lake and taking a gulp of air through his mouth.

The sky was dark, filled to the brim with the glowing white dots. The big one, the moon, hung overhead, casting its light upon the surface of the water. Umaroth blinked, looking up at the moon. Bright blue orbs filled with the reflection of the moon. He simply floated there, gazing, until he heard it. It was a loud noise, a scream actually, coming from the eastern shore of Umaroths lake. The reptile blinked, hearing the scream once again. His curiosity demanded satisfaction. He began to make his way to the source, gliding through the water as a silent onlooker.

Getting close enough he saw it. He saw the man, the Pink Skin, running along the shore of his lake. From beneath the surface his lip curled, a snarl escaped and releasing bubbles of air. Umaroth sped up his approached, intent on forcing the man away from his water. Once his legs touched the approaching lake bed he leapt, causing an explosion of water as he came roaring up from the depths. Umaroth rushed behind the man, snapping at him from behind, adding to the poor souls fear and giving more strength to his legs. The lizard made a grumbling noise as he watched the man run towards the village, the one that viewed him as something more than he was. Pink Skins always stayed together.

But, what was it he had been running from? His answer was coming, quite quickly actually. Umaroth turned, having heard it first, to get a good sight at the lumbering hog that was coming his way. It's body was like that of a boar, coated in a mane of black hair that matched the nights. Bloated and unsightly, the creature was trying to lumber after the fleeing two legged spirit. It was obviously a Hollow, but for some reason something just did not seem right. His instincts were acting up, causing Umaroth a moment of confusion instead of territorial rage. There was something about it that just did not seem natural.

It wasn't moving right, first of all. It's legs and arms were not moving as they should, not sweeping to give it momentum. Umaroth tilted his head, watching the boar approach him, picking him as its new target. For some reason, he just did not feel any sort of danger from this Hollow. The reptile then did something odd. It simply turned around, exposing his back to the boar. Of course, he was not simply giving himself to the Hollow. Oh no. Rather, he was luring him in. Once it was close enough there was a blur of motion and a satisfyingly loud crack, as Umaroths tail slammed into the side of its mask. The reptilian Beast was a physical powerhouse, and being smacked by that tail would have been like getting hit by a truck. It would send the Hollow into the mud, if not straight up killing it. Umaroth gave it a look, letting out a puff of air from his mouth that was oddly similar to a "pfft". He raised his tail once more before slamming it down directly on its head.

[MrDoctorDo]

With a single slam of the tail; the Hollow crumbled into itself. It was like striking a bloated corpse. One saturated by days of soaking in water. The body gave no resistance to the strike. Excessively limp. Pliable even. So much so that the strike left a deep impression in the body. The skin and the flesh concaved to mirror the shape of the posterior appendage. With this single blow the beast was sent hurtling away. The power had been enough to lift the vile monster off its “feet”. Returning to the earth, its body flopped off the ground and rolled a few more times. The manner in which it came to a rest was an odd one. It appeared as though he would roll once more, but then its weight got the better of it. turning back towards the way it had came, it began to wobble until all motion stopped. It...honestly appeared like a skin full of water jiggling till the energy died off. The chubby figure looked rather pathetic as its apparent fat stopped jiggling. It didn’t move after this. No shifting or twitching.

Certainly it was dead, but it did not seem to actually die. It just...stopped. Actually, there was some small activity in the post mortem. Now that it was dead; it began to compress. As if it were deflating. Body becoming flatter and flatter; its bulk spread out nearly twice as wide as it was before. At several points of its pelt and flesh, there were evident signs of tearing. As if its insides were splitting it open. It was only at the end of this most peculiar display...that a most tragic smell emitted from its lifeless form. A stench that often accompanied death, but far stronger. This was the smell of an old corpse. A corpse long since spoiled.

A corpse kept wet and moist throughout its rotting. This Hollow looking thing...had been dead for quite some time. A most peculiar thing. Yet, it would explain why the beast made no cry upon its injury. There was no heaving of breath or struggle as it rolled into its grave. The wetness of the smell might also be an answer. Any lake of river dweller would know what a waterlogged cadaver feels, and smells like. Might be quite delicious to their less particular tastes. Still, just what in the hell was this creature? Why did it look like a Hollow, and even act as one? How could a corpse possibly move this long after its demise?

From a decent distance away, there came new sounds. Nothing like the screech of a Hollow. In fact, it was more akin to the scream emitted by the poor soul once chased by the beast. The sound emitted quite clearly from a nearby gathering of bushes and trees. More specifically, the same bushes and trees from which the boar had emerged. The sounds were muffled and mixed with the rustling of twigs and leaves, and rather hard to make out. Only as they continued to pour out in an almost nonsensical matter, did it become clear who was making them. Emerging from the forest beyond; a short young man came clamouring forth. Fighting with sticks and branches as he freed himself from the wooded hell in which he hid. ”D...D*mn it! Get out of my way!” While at first it appeared, in most regards, to be a human; the figure’s approach slowly illuminated more and more details in the pale moonlight.

This creature’s head was too...wrong to be human. Where they are normally quite rounded in general shape; this one’s seemed much more dynamic. It...looked more like the plated head of a stag beetle. Just like the polished carapace of a beetle, his head gleaned with reflected lights. This fact allowed the full measure of this strange anatomy to be identified in the nighttime shade. At the forefront there were two enormous protrusions. They were long enough to be an arms for this creature, and curved into arches to their ends. Rising first, up above his head, and then coming back down and together.

These antlers seemed to glisten beautifully when caught by light. Much more so than an insect might. In time they would come to be discovered for what they were. A large, forged crown of orangish metal. Now that it was clear this strange headdress was not something naturally grown; the rest of it could be more easily identified. Meaning, the fixture did not stop with just the extended horns. Instead, there was also two, thick curls of yet more metal! They seemed to comfortably wrap around each side of a rounded, darkened area. The base of his armored head.

They provided foundation and support. Stretching even further down around the neck, and onto the shoulders and back. They came to an end at the center of his back. Beneath was the dirtied white, fabric of a long coat. Beneath that, obscured by the darkness, were the unmistakable black robes of the Shinigami. So. Beetle-gami. "How very fortunate..." The large antlers flickering with a bit of energy. Momentarily producing flashes of light for themselves. "...one promising study dies, and yet a new one has killed it. Literally."

The more the individual talked, the more flickers came from the horns. Yet, though they would flank the mouth of a normal insect; these extensions did not reflect the moving of mandibles or the production of sounds. It was only as the body came with a few meters of the beached lizard, that the dark void at the center of its head developed form. That once blackish void now produced a wide and jolly smile. "Just what might you be..." With a tilt of his head, and with it the horny headgear; the Shinigami took great effort to exam his find.

The darkened face of young Mika, was accomplished with a dense layer of makeup. It was not all black, however. Starting at his chin, and stretching up in an ever thinning plane; was an orangish triangle. It was glittery in the same fashion as the metal helm. In a way, it appeared to be the bottom jaw to the stag pincers that curved out, above. With the coloration being on his jaw, it did infact trick the eyes into think the beetle head talked along with him. Mika's moving jaw moving the deceptive imagery, as well. "You broke my tool." Looking over to the boar's corpse. Giving another grin towards the scaly, sand belly. The scientists overbite grin showing through quite clearly...even in the lateness of the hour. "I will need a new one."

Sealing away his big teeth behind a churlish smirk, mika reached into one of the deep, external pockets of his coat. Moving his arm to do so...revealed the fulness of his left sleeve, yet the flatñess of the right. This was a wounded animal in Shinigami clothing. It was missing a most vital limb. One it did not seem troubled to be without. "Come now..." Rummaging through his pocket...clearing his way through stowaway twigs and leaves. The Soul Reaper quickly produced a most sweet smelling treat. Salted...pork. "Let me get a better look at you." With a playful wag of the unwrapped treat...he hoped to goad the beast into approaching closer.

[Deleted]

Just what was this thing? The lizard tilted its feather, horny head slightly to the side. Body held low to the ground he approached on all fours, one clawed hand in the mud at time, inspecting the thing he had just killed. Something about it was just not right. It wasn't normal, irregular. The thing had seemed to deflate into nothing more than a fleshy puddle, releasing an odor that Umaroth knew all too well. Yet, the thing just did not seem very appetizing. The reptile narrowed its eyes, taking a few sniffs and grumbling. He began to back away from it, letting out a grumbling sound from within the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, though, Umaroths attention was drawn back to the underbrush from where the boar had come barreling in from. He spun, a spray of mud flinging through the air as Umaroth faced the sound. A growl escaped between his teeth, tail slapping the ground a few times as the sounds became louder. Umaroth noticed the moving underbrush as the source of the sounds came closer, and when it arrived...the reptile paused. What, exactly, was he looking at?

It looked like some sort of giant beetle. The reptile grumbled in his throat, eyeing the new creature warningly as he slowly began to rise up on his feet. The sounds it was making were very similar to the ones that the young girl from the village used. Words. Umaroth growled, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched as the creature stood still and simply looked at him.

It began talking again, looking at the thing that Umaroth had killed/ moments ago. The reptile simply looked at the odd thing, eyes narrowed as he watched for any sort of hostile behavior. It was then that the thing began to reach into a pack that Umaroth growled. It slowly pulled out something that Umaroth could smell perfectly, something that interested him. Food. The creature grumbled, looking between the meat and the bug.

But he did not approach. Rather that tail of his whipped through the air, slamming into the mud and water to his side and sending a wave containing a mixture of both all over the bug. Umaroth growled, slamming his tail against the ground. He wanted the bug gone, and was now warning Mika to leave or else.

"Go.."

[MrDoctorDo]

The world of the Rukongai was certainly something else. A seemingly endless expanse of forest, surrounding what territory that the spirit population could carve for itself. The meager attempts of the waiting dead to recover the material world they left behind. Their toils and their structures, soothing to them in such an overwhelming country. Think about it. Those forests which stretch out beyond the edges of the three hundred, twenty districts of the Rukongai...they are never end.

Every tree and every shrub. All the caves and mountains. Everything out there. All of it was a manifestation of the endless uncertainty that is the afterlife. Out there were mysteries that elude the soul even in death. Life blossoms in the absence of soul’s comprehension of it. Even though no one from the Rukongai would ever dare try to explore into the vastwood of eternity...it thrives. Ever bursting with curiosities. Perplexing in scope. Majestically alluring, yet never braved.

A constant source of speculation for one individual in particular. A starry eyed young man who often dreamt of questions without answers. Such as, the location of the Soul Society's true boarders? How far would one need to travel to reach them? What would they encounter on the way? Would their journey be like that of Orpheus. An ultimately doomed sojourner to the unfathomable depths of Tartarus. One that would tempt someone like Mika with the promises of previously unknown discoveries...only to punish him forever for looking.

Not by taking the discoveries away from him, but by banishing him to the endless bosk. Burying him in anonymity...among the largest jungle in the conceivable universe. Yes, such was the truth of it. Yet the Shinigami found himself ever drawn back to that unconquered land. Wondering. Puzzling. Wishing for a way to steal the mysteries for himself. To that end...he found himself skirting the edge of that grand wilderness. Using the furthest villages known to the Shinigami as points of perspective. Such was what brought him to this distant lake this evening.

With a stare that seemed lifeless; Mika prolonged his examination of the now revealed specimen. My my...was it a big one. Already beginning to develop traits that appeared more human in their function. Stronger arms and legs, each much longer than would be needed for the typical crocodilian. With a broader back, but reduced hips, it was clear that this beast was preparing to make the vertical transition in development. The shocking reduction of the hips made it clear it was becoming a male...whatever it really was.

Further critique gave him cause to turn an eye towards the creature’s head. The snout had greatly shrunk. Nevermind if the specimen was previously a crocodile or alligator, it was now appearing much closer to that of a turtle. An expanding upper cranium made it abundantly clear that intelligence was forming. With the top of the skull in question, Mika’s eyebrows gave an amused arch. The presence of both horns and feathers was fascinating. The Horns were far too small to serve defensive or combative purpose...they must be similar to the feathers. A cranial adaption for the purpose of mating. How intriguing.

These creatures had every reason to be infertile. Spirits of humans who died without retaining any portion of their former identities. Forced to reside in the bodies of simpler life forms, that developed naturally in this realm. Mika had always speculated that mutant anomalies such as Lion...er Raion...whatever, were just that. Having read so much speculation about their existence had left him as confident as those who came before him. They don’t reproduce, they simply come into existence and fade with time.

Like every other soul that lingers too long in this reality. Fleeting back to the human realm through reincarnation. To forget ever being a lower beast, as a new life begins. Yet...here was this lizard thing. Standing proud in his filthy, watery home. Displaying an aggressive gesture. Making full use of his prominent, mating adornments. To this the scientist gave only a scoffing sneer. Raising his head, tilting back the apparatus that covered his own head. Shaking the beetle like pincers that stretched from the front of the device.

”Ooooo-aaaahh.” Dipping his head again so that the vicious looking extensions laid aimed towards the pest. ”Settle down, vermin. I’m not here for your territory…who would want so shallow a lake as this.” As the Shinigami’s lips moved, and words poured forth; so too did arcs of energy and dazzling light. Like tiny lightning strikes, the surging power leaped to and fro between the pincers. Like electrical pylons, they exchanged volts from one side to the other.

”I have come to perfor...do experime...things.” Their movement created waves between the metal prongs. These waves seemed to sync with whatever the newcomer spoke. Even when he had to catch himself attempting to use vocabulary far beyond the comprehension of this critter. Not that it would really matter. See, that strange device that remained strapped to his head and back...it was a communication device. The first of its kind. A piece of hardware capable of absorbing brain waves produced by the neurons of the speech center.

Processing the energy surges through an on-board database, and then projecting electromagnetic signals as a cone. Within this cone; all beings with sensory functions receive harmless stimulation. The nerve endings spread out through their entire then become receptors for a verbal message. Whatever thought Mika wished to convey with his words...becoming instantly present in their mind. A bulking, yet efficient universal translator. With it; Mika could translate his every desire and whim for even the most simple of lifeforms.

Not only was it important to seek out the discoveries...they had to be harnessed. Simply experiencing what the unknown had to offer was insufficient. Bringing back tales and observations would suffice for little more than bedtime stories. Delights to inspire the imagination of child. Fantasies without proof. Incapable of convincing adults of their own pertinence. This stated the researcher dreaming. Of ways he could interact with whatever might be out there. To draw data and conclusions from anything...without the need of a laboratory.

To this end he began to study communication. Not the social sciences. No, the actual means by which all aspect of life exchange data from one another. Methods and avenues that were available to all walks of life. Mika even went as far to evaluate the means by which the inorganic and inanimate exchanged “information” from one source to another. The beautiful world of chemistry, and the wonder that was molecular exchange.

It was with these principles in mind that he sought the development of new communication. The creation of tools that would allow him to orchestrate the exchange of molecules. To dictate the conversation of the elemental world. To build an understanding that would bridge together all variations of reality. Whether he sought to listen to the explanations of stones...or profess his will to beasts that lingered just outside of the evolutionary reach that was vocalized speech. Mika was...moderately successful.

The width of his grin only grew, as his body shivered with the force of his own thoughts. Every word emitting a blast of understanding towards his target. Each blast producing a recoil that traversed the entirety of his figure. This recoil much like an echo heard in a mountain pass. The information was already known...but it was just so satisfying to hear one’s thoughts a second time. ”Come on fella’...I can feed you.” Mika stepped closer still; shaking the offered meat.

”I can do more. Make you strong.” Once more the lizard man would receive sensations through his whole body. Nerve endings being tickled, and brain illuminated. In his mind he felt himself vastly more powerful. Strength enough to crush other rivals with ease. Force enough to sunder the earth and expand rivers and lakes. No matter what translation worked best, that is what displayed. For these sensations were built from the creature’s own knowledge base. His mind interpreting what Mika suggested, as if it were his own original thought.

To him the food should look appetizing and safe. Inviting. The power should feel amazing and without rival. ”Come on. You are done with the swamp…” The water beneath his feet no longer feeling refreshing and cool. Now, only a nuisance against his scaly limbs. ”Come back with me.” Beautiful displays of brightly lit monitors.

A wonderful area that is both warm and filled with sweet tasting water. A bounty of food, and rivals to strike down whenever he so wished to exact the glorious strength he now possessed. All the while Mika spoke to the gator...there came more stirrings from the Hollow corpse. With terrible ribs and ghastly sounds, the flesh fell apart. Out from it poured a viscous, murky goo. Amber in could, it flowed slowly onto the ground.

The revelation of this goopy mess was enough to draw away Mika’s attention. With another groan from his parted lips, the Shinigami shouted a quick command. ”Pull yourself together. We have a new...pack member to educate.” Looking back to the beastman. Stepping forward with his one hand raised to lift the broadcast cap. His words no longer perfectly interpreted for the beast’s understanding. ”Let’s make him the best, damn godzilla there ever was…”

[MrDoctorDo]

(OoC: With that last post, this thread is resolved. Grade for basic TP please, and thank you!)






















(PS: Prepare for Godzilla...)

[Kyomei Kuchiki]

+265 TP to both participants