Taking Back Control [DP, R, Inner Hollow Fight]

[Zeich Yajuu]

It was amazing what could change in three days, Zeich thought as he lay across the table, staring up at the ceiling. Amber eyes tinged with gold traced the lines of the tiled surface, an idle motion that came with self-contemplation. As they reached a light, the glow reflecting brightly off of the shining irises, the former Shinigami raised a hand to block his vision, wincing at the sharp pain to his eyes. As he did so, the sleeve of his robe slid back, revealing an arm whose skin was fresh and lighter in shade than his hand or shoulder. Formerly there had been three tattoos on each arm, a triad of sixes to indicate the Mark of the Beast. Thinking back, Zeich couldn't remember why he had chosen such a foolish marking, but the time to worry about that was past, gone like the ink that had been removed from his skin. Each arm was now bare of tattoos, taken away to “remove any identifiable markings” in the event that he was ever discovered after leaving Soul Society.

A few other changes had been made as well as Zeich had been treated at the clinic, including the removal of scar tissue from his torso and limbs. The scar on his neck, the rope burn from his death as a human, had been spared only because the former Shinigami had insisted on keeping it; though it was contrary to the purpose of hiding, that mark was a tie to Zeich's past, the way he died, and the time at which the Shadow was introduced to his soul. Until he learned more, until he remembered or was simply informed of the truth of the time, there was no sense in removing the one link that he had. Objectively, it was a foolish sentiment; knowing what had happened did nothing to change the current reality of the situation, yet Zeich refused to let it go.

Three days. In three days, Zeich's body had practically been rebuilt from scratch from the neck down. Muscles had been torn, and bones had been shattered as he had fought with Adalo. Worse injuries had been inflicted on his form when the Shadow had taken control, fighting recklessly; the skin was torn with dozens of lacerations, and further breaks were evident. Since then, his body had been reconstructed; the muscles had been knitted together and infused with Reiatsu temporarily to prevent atrophy during the healing process, while the bones had been forcibly fused; even with healing techniques, it was still a teeth-grating feeling, one that Zeich had not enjoyed. On the other hand, the repairs to his skin, both in mending and the removing of impurities, had been a wave of tingling needles running up the length of his body. Three days of healing had changed so much.

New clothing had been prepared for his eventual departure to the Land of the Living as well. Zeich felt uncomfortable outside of his normal Shinigami attire, but he understood that he couldn't exactly take it with him; after all, he was supposed to be dead, his body lost in the aftermath of the Primera Espada's attack. Instead, his outfit had been completely replaced; a short-sleeved white t-shirt sat under a gray windbreaker, the jacket left open and slightly too big for the former Shinigami's frame while its sleeves were bunched up around Zeich's elbows. Jeans were held up by a paired set of belts, one for each sword that the man held; his Zanpaktou, the one possessed by the Shadow, sat on the left side, while the sword that held his former Zanpaktou Spirit, Haiiro, was on the right.

It's time to go soon, Haiiro. Zeich thought as he rested his hand on the sword that contained a portion of his soul. The wolf spirit within heard him, giving a silent acquiescence; indeed, they had put off departure until the fallen Shinigami had been fully healed, at which point they would leave for the World of the Living, officially banished from Soul Society and marked for death should they ever be discovered. After all, such was the price of being a Vizard, a Shinigami whose soul was stained by the presence of an Inner Hollow. Vizards were unstable before escaping, at risk of possession, at which point they would simply lay waste to all in their path. Zeich himself had wiped out the entirety of a Rukongai district, leveling most of the buildings within and killing the entirety of its population, burying all in a mass of suffocating ash that suppressed the very life kept within it.

So... what now? Where will I go? Where will I stay? What will I do with my time? These were all questions that Zeich had been asking himself over and over since he had woken in the clinic three days prior. Three days after the attack on a Vizard's base, Adalo had approached him, and three days further, the former Shinigami found himself here, ready to depart for the World of the Living; nearly a week since he had acknowledged his presence as a Vizard, regardless of his choice in the matter, and so much had changed. That was why he questioned, concerned for his future; had he fought back from the brink of possession and death only to find himself drifting aimlessly?

We'll worry about that when the time comes, Master. Haiiro gently reminded him. First we have to find the group of Vizards within Karakura Town, and have them train you to take control of the Shadow. Once you can keep him from possessing you again, then you can worry about the distant future. For now, let us worry about the immediate events. Put away your worries—

Watch your tone. It was a sharp rebuke, one that caused the wolf to go silent, and Zeich could feel the hurt that came from him. The man sighed; he hadn't meant it that harshly, yet he couldn't deny that he still harbored a good deal of anger for the Zanpaktou Spirit that had kept this truth from him for so long. It had been a betrayal, even though it came from good intentions; Haiiro had not wanted Zeich to lose what stability he had, and thus posed as the one providing him the power for his Zanpaktou in exchange for keeping the Shadow's involvement hidden. Zeich knew he was being foolish, bearing this grudge, but until he could find it in his heart to truly forgive his companion, that wound would not heal.

Sighing, Zeich sat up from the table that he had been laying on since his last examination about a half hour prior. He had been marked fit once more, able to survive on his own; Genjo himself had done the checkup, ensuring that Zeich was healed in both body and soul, especially since it had been less than a week since he had severed Haiiro from the former Shinigami's soul. It was done, however, and there was no sense delaying; banishment was inevitable, and Genjo intended to enforce it, helping him or not. Once Zeich stepped through the Senkaimon into the World of the Living, that was it; the next time Genjo or any other Shinigami caught wind of his identity, he was to be the target of a death sentence.

Grabbing the pack set aside with his few remaining possessions, the little money that he had to his name, and a few days' provisions, Zeich stepped out into the main lobby of the clinic, where Ginjo was waiting patiently. The man stood, surprisingly tall and well-built; it was amazing such a giant was as capable with such precise and fine repairs that had been made on Zeich's body, yet he was also an expert on matters of the soul, able to sever a specific part of it and imbue it in another object. It was the reason that Haiiro remained in a blade that was not Zeich's Zanpaktou; indeed, only when the former Shinigami was in contact with the sword in some way could he communicate with the wolf. Otherwise, he was left alone with the darkness that was the Shadow's Inner World.

As Genjo approached, Zeich bowed politely, his expression neutral. “...Thank you for your assistance, Genjo. I know that this is a risky task for you, and that by all rights I should be dead by now. If it weren't for your intervention, I certainly would be. Even providing me with supplies for a few days was generous, considering that I am now marked as an enemy of Soul Society; if I can repay you in any way, please let me kno—”

“I didn't do it for you.” Zeich paused, cut off in mid-sentence. “I did it because of your Zanpaktou Spirit, Haiiro. Despite everything that you claimed about betrayal, despite you abandoning him and leaving him to rot, that spirit's devotion towards you is without equal. When he sensed you were in pain spiritually, he didn't just ask me to come to your aid; he begged me. And even then when I declined, he continued to ask, to beg, to do whatever it took to get to you. I swear, he was about to snap that sword with his need to return to you; in the face of such determination, I could not help but assist him. Someone who has earned that much devotion and faith in him, to have such a pure and good portion of his soul, has to be worth something; don't prove me wrong.”

Zeich was quiet for a moment, but he nodded, holding out his hand. “Then... I thank you on Haiiro's behalf. I will do my best to prove myself worth this second chance.”

Genjo took it, shaking his head sadly. “Best you not thank me; the next time we meet, we are sworn enemies. You are an abomination in Soul Society's eyes, and as a Shinigami, it will be my duty to kill you in the name of the Spirit King. I hope that one day there may be Vizards that are still good, that are willing to fight for what is right instead of their own baseless revenge, but until that day comes, I will stand firm against any I see. That is my vow, and my duty.”

With that, the two headed out front, where a member of Squad Thirteen had been called to open a temporary Senkaimon. Genjo had been forced to call in several favors in order to establish this portal; after all, he was smuggling a fugitive out of Soul Society, one who was supposed to be dead, and he had to do so without suspicion being put on him. Fortunately, the man who had been sent out could be trusted, a friend of Genjo's who was more than willing to help him out. The situation hadn't been explained to him, but he agreed that it was better that he was left out; the less he knew, the less he could tell. Already the door was hovering in place, waiting to be opened; a simple command would allow Zeich through to the World of the Living, and once it shut behind him, that was it; he would not be able to communicate with Soul Society to get a Senkaimon opened again, leaving him permanently residing in the World of the Living.

It was time. Zeich gave one last bow of gratitude to Genjo, and then turned and headed straight for the Senkaimon. The doors slid open, light pouring through as he approached. The walk, barely a moment in time, seemed to stretch out like a walk to the gallows, an audience of two watching him go. It certainly felt like a death sentence in its own way, banished from everything he knew and sent to live a completely new life, yet Zeich continued to move forward, knowing that this was inevitable. There was nothing more he could do in this world, now that he was marked as a traitor, and it was time to move forward, to find a new future. And so he stepped through the doorway.

Rain. Rain was the first thing that Zeich noticed as he stepped out onto an empty sidewalk in the middle of Karakura Town. The rain, and the cold breeze that had immediately cut through to the bone, that is. The cold liquid immediately matted his hair to his head, and sent him shivering as he zipped up his jacket and pulled up the hood. Thankfully the material for his clothing was fairly waterproof, keeping out most of the moisture as he hurried to the nearest overhang of a store, getting out from the rain.

The former Shinigami looked around as he stood in the shelter of the store's entrance, still shivering in the cold as his breath misted before him. Never had Karakura felt so unfamiliar, so alien; before, he had simply made temporary trips through the town either to deal with Hollows or to speak with a Shinigami in the area. But now that he had to navigate, to find himself a place to stay and a purpose in life, everything seemed so foreign. Worse, while there were a good deal of spiritually aware people in the city, many of them weren't aware that they had such gifts, and it would be difficult finding a person to speak with that wouldn't be surprised by a “god of death” approaching them to ask for directions.

But before finding a place to sleep, Zeich had one greater concern: locating the Vizard base that was within the town. Naturally it was well hidden, lest Soul Society send in all of its Captains to wipe it out; the former Shinigami would all be dead if their base was discovered. However, Zeich had an idea to get into contact with those he sought; he just needed to speak with one or two people in order to get the information he needed. Fortunately, the store he stood in front of was one familiar to him, which was why he had chosen to hide under its cover; it served as both a standard merchandise store for those of the living world, but also as a supplier for those of the spiritual world in need of equipment or tools.

Stepping inside, Zeich immediately headed for the back room of the store, pushing his way through a curtain dividing the two areas. Most people didn't go through the curtain, halted by the uncertain nature of not knowing if the area behind was part of the main store; what if it was a private meeting area, or an employee-only section? Certainly only those who knew what the room's purpose was would go back there. Zeich knew that the supplier's main office was in the back area, and most business deals were conducted on a one-on-one basis, directly and without deception. Money would trade hands, and then equipment would be procured.

But Zeich didn't come to the area for tools or weapons; he had come for information. Knocking on the door, he was quickly let in; it seemed that business was slow today, if he was being let in immediately. The former Shinigami found himself sitting across from an older man, his hair and beard white as snow. “So, how can I help you today, young man? You're a Shinigami, yes? I'm not sure if I can provide more than a few basic items that Soul Society can't order directly—”

“I am not with Soul Society, and I'm not here to buy equipment. I'm here to buy information.” Zeich crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. “I'm looking for the location of the Karakura Black Market; don't tell me it doesn't exist because there is no town too honest for underground dealings. I simply want to know where it is, and then I'll be on my way. Easy, right?”

“And what do you want there, hm?” The man leaned forward, interested. “I won't deny that it exists, but I'm afraid that I can't just tell you, either. There are some nasty fellows that would cut my throat for as much as I've said.”

“I'm looking for a group of people, and I need to find them urgently. Such a place is the most likely chance I have of locating them—”

“You're looking for the Vizards, eh?” Zeich raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you're not the first, young man, though it has been a while since one of your kind has last approached me. Probably about a hundred years or so. It's easy to tell that you're a new Vizard yourself, though; you're very much like a Shinigami, and you bear your Zanpaktou, which eliminates you as a Rogue, yet you are not with Soul Society.” The elderly man didn't seem too upset by the fact that he was speaking with a Vizard. “Anyway, we are a business, and do not discriminate; we sell to Quincies, humans, Mod Souls, Failures, Shinigami, Arrancar, etc. There is no racial divisions in business, only money. Indeed, one of my regulars may be just the person you are seeking. If you would like, I would be happy to contact him. Money is no issue, either; I'd rather you have yourself under control before you damage something and hurt business.”

“...I appreciate it. Thank you.” Zeich frowned as he sat back in his chair, allowing the man to make a phone call. A place of meeting was arranged for only an hour hence, and from there, the former Shinigami would be introduced to one of the Vizards who would teach him how to control the Shadow's powers. But he had to wonder at how easy it was; was this a trap, a setup? What was to stop the merchant from simply calling Soul Society to inform them of a new Vizard, a weak one who had yet to learn to control his powers? Zeich's paranoia rose up, but he had to take this chance; there was no telling when the Shadow would reawaken again and attempt to take over once more. Gambling was the only choice he had.

An hour later, Zeich stood beneath a bridge that extended over the river. The man leaned against a wall, waiting patiently; he didn't have a watch or phone to tell the time, but he could guess that it was just about time for his meeting. Any moment now, his guide would arrive to meet him... or a trap would be sprung. Which would happen, Zeich did not know, but he was ready; come what may, he intended to live.

SPOILER: Click to show

{Zeich's Stats}Strength - [300] (300) Points

Speed - [400] (400) Points

Spiritual Pressure – [400 x 1.75] (700) Points

Reiatsu Strength – [200 x 0.6] (120) Points

Light Aura - [50] Points

Dark Aura - [50] Points

Instinct - [200] Points

Senses - [200] Points

Energy sensory - [100] Points

Healing Expertise - [0] Points


Total SP: [1800] points

SPOILER: Click to show

{Zeich's Skills}Current Skills: (16 SKP)

• [Weapons - Katana] 3
  
  
• [Strength of Will] 2
  
  
• [Martial Arts - Hakuda] 3
  
  
• [Stealth] 2
  
  
• [Calm Mind] 3
  
  
• [Acrobatics] 1
  
  
• [Battle Analysis] 2

[Kyomei Kuchiki]

"...nks for letting us know! You're the best, Daichi!" Golden rays of sunlight shone through the massive windows of the mansion's office, overlooking the shimmering lake. The room had been quiet until the antique phone rang, and it was now quiet again. Two women had been present when the phone began to ring, and they couldn't have been much more different in personality. The one who answered was bubbly and sweet, extremely upbeat about life. The girl sitting in a chair off to the side of the room, however, looked distant and cold to the world. "Isn't it great, Suki? Another man that Daichi found for us... That will make us even! No sharing necessary. Of course, I'll get Calleum... sigh...

Turning the page to her book, Suki didn't respond to the other girl. She never did, except when it was extremely necessary. Her words were precious, and she kept them all to herself. And because of that, people tended to leave her alone. Even know, Aijou, who had answered the phone, was leaving the room to spread the news to the rest of the Vaizard. "A new Vizard has been discovered." Of course, there would have to be a bit of deliberation on who would go meet him and bring him back to the mansion through the underground tunnels, but they would have to decide fast. First they had to gather, though.

It started the same way it usually did. Mimi Chen wanted to cut up the man, or do some other weird "science" with him, which caused Kumiko to start whining about how Mimi "could only do evil", which divided the Company in two like it usually did. Gekiha defends Mimi while Kumiko and Ken argue about "the greater good" while Aijo does her makeup and Suki reads her book. The arguing got louder until they're all silenced by Calleum entering the room. He scolds them, they get back into their seats quietly, and discussion starts to happen.

As usual, Calleum sends Gehika. The man's ability to peer into souls and unlock their deepest fears was invaluable in a first contact situation. So the Vizard gathered up his costume and headed out into the tunnels. Zeich would see a variety of people walking under the bridge. Some for the exercise, others for the shelter from the wind, others for Vandalism purposes. So, it wouldn't be too strange when a cloaked man walked up to the opposite side of the river and began to spray paint a mural.

The hour that Zeich was supposed to meet the Vaizard came and went, the Shinigami being forced to stand there for over two hours more while Gehika quickly created the mural he had in store. His reiatsu was completely suppressed during this time, so he just looked like a punk vandalizing the wall. But it wouldn't take long for the Shinigami to discover what was going on. When Gehika stepped away from the mural, Zeich would clearly see his name, as well as the image of a Wolf on fire. It wasn't perfect, but it was a pretty solid representation of Haiiro. With his mural done, Gehika simply stopped holding back on his reiatsu and waited for the other man to approach him.

[Zeich Yajuu]

The hour came and went, yet there was no sign of the contact that was supposed to meet him. Zeich kept his patience about him, however; leaning against the wall of the bridge, he let himself relax, settling into a half-doze state in which he was generally aware of his surroundings but able to rest slightly, conserving energy. It was a trick he had picked up with practice, one that allowed him to sleep lightly most evenings without finding himself exhausted the next day. If anyone approached him, the former Shinigami would know in a heartbeat; his ears would pick up on footsteps, and his half-closed eyes would catch movement should it be in his general vicinity.

Yet as the time passed, Zeich found himself wondering where his contact was, or if it had even been the Vizards who had been contacted. Paranoid to a fault, many worst-case scenarios ran through his head; his contact could have been discovered and attacked, or the Vizards could simply be ignoring one who made such a brash request for aid, even if it wasn't his decision to do so in that manner. Then of course there was a possibility that it was the Shinigami who had been contacted, and they were closing a perimeter around him for capture; worse, they could be preparing an execution, as a death sentence did lay on his head as it would any other Vizard. Even if it was something as trivial as the contact being late, Zeich felt uneasy, wondering what would happen next.

Opening his eyes fully, the former Shinigami craned his head to one side and then the other casually, letting his gaze sweep over the area. The usual expected riff-raff was gathered, punks who looked like they belonged to some gang or another, though there were a few casual civilians gathered to hide from the rain. It was an ordinary scene, really, even up to the man spray-painting graffiti on the far wall. There was no sign of an ambush, yet there were no signs that his contact had arrived either; was he wasting his time here? Perhaps it would be better if he made his way to the Karakura Black Market after all; surely someone there would give him something more accurate than the information he had been given...

Master, look there!

Alerted by Haiiro's cry, Zeich's eyes snapped forward; they narrowed as he spotted the mural opposite him, the drawing completed during his lack of attention to the so-called vandal. Suddenly the “vandal” wasn't that in the man's eyes anymore; Zeich knew without a doubt that the individual across from him was no ordinary human. The sense of Reiatsu rolling off of him was enough of an indicator, even without the mural, but the drawing behind him was far more vivid, a sign that drew Zeich's attention more than any other. It wasn't his name scrawled across the bottom of it either that drew him, no; indeed, it was almost ignored for an image that haunted many of the former Shingami's memories.

He remembered that day all too well, the day that he had lost Polaris. The flames that had consumed the wolf, the cries of pain and agony; Zeich had those images engraved into his memory forever. The smell of burning fur and flesh, the heat rising up off of the ground even as he tried to put out the fires, to save his Zanpaktou spirit; these were something he would carry with him always. But there was worse, a nightmare that rose up as part of the pain, a nightmare that drew another into the flames. Haiiro, burning, the ashen wolf becoming true ashes as the Shadow consumed him, too; that was a fear worse than any, one that lurked in the deepest corners of Zeich's mind. The threat of losing not one, but both of his Zanpaktou spirits to the Shadow's flames was a horror he could not take, even with his current grudge against Haiiro.

Image aside, that confirmed who it was that stood before him. Zeich pushed himself away from the wall and made his way across the river, using air ground to simply walk just above the surface of the water as he crossed over. His eyes were narrow, the golden-amber irises seeming to shine even in the low light level beneath the bridge, but he still stopped a respectful distance away, crossing his arms and staring down the man who stood before him. “I imagine that you're the one who has been sent to meet me. Shall we go, then?”

[Kyomei Kuchiki]

Zeich walked up to the Vizard, who kept his face hidden behind the hood of the sweatshirt he wore. With his signature lack of expressing emotion, even when seeing his Zanpakutou Spirit engulfed in flames, the Shinigami only annoyed Gehika. "Well, aren't you cheery... Come on, let's get moving before the f***ing Soul Society tracks you down." Moving off for a seemingly random sewer entrance while suppressing his reiatsu again to avoid attracting too much attention, the Vizard led Zeich through various tunnels.

The only thing that Zeich would find noteworthy was the complete suppression of his energy sensory outside of the sewers. Anything inside, he could sense just fine, but the outside world would be completely blocked from him. Or rather, he was blocked from it. "Sekki Sekki powder mixed into the concrete. Makes it easier to hide from unwanted eyes." The short man leading Zeich was strange. He would answer questions that the man thought, but didn't say out loud, would move with no looking back to see if Zeich was following, and left his back open the whole time as if he trusted the former Shinigami. But everything about his posture demonstrated a distrust and unease about the whole situation.

It would only take about twenty minutes of walking in various directions before they finally arrived at a rusty ladder. "After you." Climbing the ladder would lead to the storm drain behind a large mansion set outside Karakura Town Proper. The door was unlocked, so Zeich could just go right in as he pleased.

[Zeich Yajuu]

Indifferent as always, Zeich's expression remained placid and even despite the Vizard's jab about his personality. They were very similar, he supposed; the man's actions mirrored the former Shinigami's thoughts to some extent, though he was far more open about what he felt while Zeich was very restrained in his interactions. People came in all types, but every now and then, some overlapped; this was clearly the case. But Zeich had not come to talk or make friends; he had come to learn how to subjugate the Inner Hollow within his soul, so that he could retain control of his body and remove the risk of hurting further innocents. It was with that in mind that he kept silent as he followed the man into a sewer entrance, keeping a few paces behind so as not to get separated.

The tunnels themselves were everything one could expect: dirty, filled with slime and various other substances, and worst of all, they stank. Zeich's expression remained neutral, though he reached down to untie his scarf, adjusting it so that one of the two loops that normally rested around his neck now covered his nose and mouth, making it far more bearable. He did not know how the Vizards could lower themselves to use such a passageway, but he berated himself for thinking that immediately; when it came to survival, one used whatever was available, and it was very unlikely that anyone would search a sewer system for someone as powerful as the Vizards. Perhaps he would just have to get used to the smell.

One thing did bother Zeich as they walked along the tunnels; his ability to sense spiritual energy had all but faded, allowing him to sense his own Reiatsu, along with what little he could detect from the man leading the way. It was obvious that the Vizard was suppressing his presence, to the point that Zeich could barely tell that anything was there and only that because he actually knew it was there. But everything around him, even the general sense of spiritual energy that was residual in a hub like Karakura Town, was gone. It was as though his senses were contained within the walls of the pipe; in a way, it was unsettling, but it also suggested the presence of wards or barriers of a type that would prevent anyone from sensing an individual in the sewers. Indeed, it seemed to be an effective defense, especially once it was explained; Sekki Sekki powder would not only block spiritual senses, but it would likely prove to have a dampening effect on other abilities as well.

Finally, the two reached a ladder that ascended up above the sewers; Zeich felt a small tinge of relief that he would not be residing down within them, a thought that was quickly muffled and pushed aside. What had to be done to survive, he would do. Still, that was a worry that no longer mattered; he suspected that he would be meeting with the other Vizards soon, so a first impression would be important. That would be his biggest challenge; he had never been strong on the social front, and he would have to impress, or at least not anger a group of Vizards, one of an unknown size. That made him nervous, as he had always put up a cold front. But what if they turned him down or rejected him? Would they simply kill him and be done with it?

He would have to walk a line between subservience and defiance, he decided; willing to follow the orders given in order to strengthen his relationship with the group, yet strong enough to make decisions and stand up for himself as necessary. Zeich had to establish himself as a strong player, but one who would fit into the group rather than isolate himself from it. That had to be his role, at least until he learned to control the Shadow; if he could do that, then he could consider leaving the group. It would be easier to simply remain with the Vizards, but their goals were uncertain, and most likely to be against Soul Society's benefit, which was why he was loathe to work with them. So his primary concern was learning the proper control, and then he would look to separate himself by—no, that was in the future. He had to worry about the here and now. For now, Zeich's only goal had to be mastery of his Inner Hollow.

When the Vizard invited him to step in, Zeich gave the man a polite nod, but gestured for his host to enter first. “Please, lead the way. I would rather a friendly face to them announce me and avoid any up-front confusion. I did not survive so far by being rash and rushing into situations I did not understand; I'm sure you know what that's like.”

[Kento Waffles]

OOC: Z asked for me to post so he's not waiting a while, so I'll just trade back and forth with Kyo whenever one of us can get the post more quickly, so long as Kyo is busy.

IC:

An exasperated sigh from Gekiha's lips would indicate his mounting frustration, or maybe just a sort of sloth-like irritation. "You can't even control your reiatsu output right now... They're already expecting you anyway." He was probably not the guy that liked doing the recruiting. If they could have gone into depth on Gekiha's history, they would have found him to have been one of the originals in Calleum Morgana's group, and also a defector of Zouma Santeku's now deceased group. He had been around the block a few times, and was honestly kind of sick of the showing newbies around thing.

Entering first, as Zeich had requested, Gekiha brought the former into a cushy looking room, a sort of lounge. Well, kind of a lounge. The first thing worth mentioning was that there was a huge stone block at the end of the room that was half the size of the room itself, though not nearly close enough to the ceiling to be suffocating. On top of that block was where the lounge was. Fireplace in the wall, sofa on top of the block, and all of the Vizards gathered there. One on a treadmill, one on a sofa, one playing with a dog, et cetera. The part of the room Zeich had entered into was empty, except for the block that housed everything else.

If Zeich had known anything about Zouma Santeku's Vaizard, he would have known that this lounge was practically a replica of that one. It had been designed by Gekiha and by Aijou, who were remnants of that company's legacy. They had recognized the strategic advantage of a set-up like this, as Zeich would soon figure out. Just by looking at them, he would notice that they were all strong. Considering he had met the Primera, you'd think that Zeich wouldn't be so impressed by other people's reiatsu by comparison, but this had to be impressive even to that stoic ash-using snowman.

What was impressive wasn't necessarily the size of their auras, but the tempering. Each and every person in the room, including Gekiha, who for some reason remained very difficult to sense, had a very very well refined and controlled reiatsu. Their ability to contain themselves was exceptional. This was as expected from people who routinely hid from Soul Society, but it was also expected from people who gained their power by the act of suppression of some sort. All of them had to be near Captain level, and at least some of them had to be on par with or superior to your run of the mill Seireitei Captain.

"...I like him."

"He's small."

"Looks kind of weak."

"He has a nice abdomen..."

Several different responses to Zeich's presence, all of them a lot more humane than you'd expect from people who are kind of stuck with the most horrific monsters in Seireitei's history inside of them. Well, what're you going to do? Maybe all the "monster" inside of them went into the monsters that were actually inside of them. So here were the Vizards, all sizing up this new guy who couldn't even control his inner Hollow's basic impulses (Don't worry. They'd all been there before), and were probably deciding what kind of comrade he might be. You don't hear much about Vizards anymore, and there's a reason for that.

"We've been waiting for you," a dark skinned speaker said, standing up. He stood at the edge of the large stone block, his gaze descending onto Zeich with a calm expression and a thin smile. His voice was controlled, and full of strength. Rumor had it that when he didn't have to be in control, he was a free-spirited, hip hop loving kind of guy who liked to go to the dance club, but at this very moment he commanded an authority that is not often seen in people outside of official organizations. "I take it that you want to get started," Calleum Morgana said to Zeich Yajuu. "Let me ask you some questions. How many Hollows have you killed? How many Soul Reapers have you killed? Why?"

[Zeich Yajuu]

Standing in the room that his guide had led him to, Zeich didn't know what he was feeling. His stomach twisted, and he felt light-headed. Caution, paranoia, and tension all sprang up at once. He wanted to grab his weapon, but it wasn't to fight; it was for a sense of security, for a sense of stability. The former Shinigami felt like he had stepped onto a stage, with several eyes on him, and worse, those eyes each had a powerful aura. Not Adalo-powerful, wild, unchecked, and consuming; comparing an aura like his to those around him would be like comparing a bonfire to the sun shining in the sky; they were brighter and focused, despite seemingly being reduced in size. Yes, that was what he felt, standing in a room like a flickering candle among several stars. He felt small, on the verge of intimidation.

But Zeich swallowed his trepidation, forced his hands to remain still. He knew what he had come to do, knew what he would encounter. Though he had not expected the sheer level of refinement that came from each and every one of the Vizard, in his head it only made sense; they had conquered the darkness that dwelt within them, that had threatened to consume who they were. Each of the Vizard surrounding Zeich had retained themselves, something that he was on the verge of losing. Maybe it was a sense of awe, or perhaps a longing that Zeich felt inside of him; the feelings were unfamiliar for one who had normally suppressed most emotion.

Stand tall, Master. Give them a good first impression; despite their human nature, you are still among wolves.

Zeich stiffened briefly, but took another slow breath, regaining his composure. Haiiro was right, here; he couldn't afford to show weakness. Any of the Vizard in this room could likely kill him off in a heartbeat, if they were so inclined. The fact that they had not done so yet was an indication that they were curious about him, and likely did not consider him a threat. The former Shinigami knew that he would not match up in his current condition; he spent too much energy holding the Shadow back, and releasing his Zanpaktou would at best be limited to his Shikai stage, if he could let even that much loose. Bankai was out of the question, and this was only if he was fighting one of the Vizard anyway. If he had to fight multiple well... no, he had to focus, to maintain a calm front and a relaxed demeanor. He needed to learn what they knew about controlling their Inner Hollow.

Taking another breath, Zeich let his eyes roam the room, scanning over each Vizard individually, trying to gauge their interest in him. At least two seemed somewhat amused, while others did not seem so pleased with what they saw. But this was only a basic analysis; Zeich's ability to understand social interactions was fairly limited, and as a result, he couldn't be sure of what he saw. At best he'd have the basics, while at worst, he'd be completely wrong. Still, it couldn't hurt to venture a guess at their thoughts. He was quickly interrupted in his musing, however, as one of them stepped forward; a leader perhaps? Zeich didn't know how the hierarchy worked among the Vizard, but he figured he'd be finding out.

The man seemed... confident. But then again, they all seemed that way. Perhaps it was the light smile the man wore, the way he held himself; regardless of why, Zeich instinctively knew that this would be the one he would address for now. At the man's questions, he paused, considering; why did the Vizard leader ask such questions? Would they use it to determine if he would work with them, or be disloyal? The former Shinigami admittedly had no idea what he expected, nor what they expected of him. Since there was nothing he could do to plan for it, Zeich decided it would be best to answer honestly.

“I cannot tell you how many Hollows I have killed. As a Shinigami, my duty was often focused on slaying Hollows to release the souls that were consumed and send them to Soul Society. As for Shinigami...” He closed his eyes, and was silent. “...While not intentional, my actions in a mission prior allowed a monster through that killed many Shinigami. I consider myself to blame for not being able to stop it.” He refrained from mentioning that the “monster” had been a Vizard who had failed to conquer his Inner Hollow. “And then, the last time I lost control to the Hollow within me, I do not know. I lost consciousness, and have no memory of the time. However, a whole Rukongai District was completely annihilated. It would not surprise me if more than a handful of Shinigami were killed in that time as well.” Another pause. “And of course, as a Shinigami in Squad Seven, whose purpose is the upholding and execution of the law, I have likely sentenced at least a few within Seireitei during my time there. If they are not dead, they are likely in the Maggot's Nest. I hope that answers your questions.”

[Kento Waffles]

"He's the wild type," one of the Vizards whispered to Calleum. They were probably talking about how Zeich's loss of control resulted in widespread destruction. His Hollow was a chaotic berserker. But hey! Wait. They were making reference to him as a wild type, implying that some of them...weren't? Did that mean that some of the inner Hollows really did have some pretty different personalities? To his credit, Calleum kept a pretty stony face while he looked Zeich up and down and tried to take in his words. "He occupies the same Squad the Vizard Killer used to..." another Vizard whispered. This, Calleum didn't seem to take heed in, and ignored the comment.

"Let me see your Hollow," Calleum said. He looked back at his Vizard brethren. "Will one of you please volunteer? This is of course of utmost importance. He has much pent up fear and rage. Someone experienced would be preferred." There was a silence among the Vizards, and it was clear that they were hesitant. Most of them probably doubted they had the experience that Calleum sought, and it looked like it might be Calleum himself who examined Zeich. That then until a different voice broke through. "I'll do it," a female voice said. Stepping out, she had pretty features, and looked of about high school age. Silky black hair, lovely eyes, smooth skin.

But that look shouldn't fool anyone. Zeich would know her by sight, as would almost any Soul Reaper. Aijou Manako was known for two reasons. The first was her relation to Arashi Manako, a former Soul Reaper, and a hero that had done battle against Azeru Cho and sealed him away, ending the first war against the Espada. She was also protege and comrade to Zouma Santeku, the first of the Vizard company's leaders, and had been hellbent on horrific revenge after his death. If it hadn't been for Calleum calming her, there was no telling what Aijou would have done. She was probably the most experienced Vizard there.

Dropping down to Zeich's level, Aijou approached Squad 7's third seat and looked him up and down and sideways. She held up her right hand to her face, even as with her left she pulled out her Zanpakuto. Reiatsu started to materialize along Aijou's hand, until a white, owl's face mask formed in her grasp. "You want to be able to do this, right?" Aijou asked Zeich. "You want to be able to turn into a Hollow without losing control." Approaching him, Aijou's blade started to drag its tip along the ground, for a daunting screeeeeeee. She was within a few feet of him when she stopped.

"I understand," Aijou said. "Being part Hollow can be terrifying, and it can make you question who you are. You question whether your allegiances are correct. You question your identity. But, let me tell you. Being a monster banned by the Soul Society, you've become an outcast, and we're the ones who will take you in. If we want you, you'll be one of us from here on out. And that means past allegiances don't get in the way. That means you don't betray us." Aijou approached yet again, taking another step. "So, come on, former Soul Reaper..." Aijou put her mask onto her face, and suddenly disappeared. She reappeared in front of Zeich at amazing speed, her sword falling down toward his chest.

"Let me show you what it means to be a Vizard..."

[Zeich Yajuu]

A wild type? This was new information for Zeich. The words seemed to signify a classification of Vizards. But what did that mean for him? The former Shinigami pondered this question as the others murmured, speaking among themselves. He was aware of the whispers, yet he said nothing. The Vizard Killer... wasn't that the title given to the Captain of Squad 6, Sozen Kuchiki? Zeich hadn't known the man had come from that squad prior to obtaining his own Captaincy. Or were they talking about Captain Enma, who was often absent, rather to the annoyance of his subordinates? Nonetheless, giving his Squad might not have been the best idea, had he known that there was potential to offend. What was done, was done, but the former Shinigami kept his mouth shut as he analyzed what he thought might be tension in the room.

And then Calleum asked him to reveal his Hollow. Zeich's eyes narrowed, and his hands clenched; he almost instinctively reached for his Zanpaktou, wondering why the Vizards would want him to unleash the dark beast that was responsible for so many lives lost. Yet reason and rational thought took the edge from that paranoia; perhaps they wanted to see it so that they could best understand how to control it. Zeich didn't like the thought of letting the Shadow out from his control, yet at the same time, the group watching him now was likely the most capable of containing it without utterly destroying him. Yet the would-be Vizard still felt nervous about even slightly loosening the chains that bound his Inner Hollow; if he was not careful, it would break free again, and perhaps devour his mind for good. No amount of help would save him then.

Fortunately, it seemed as though Zeich would not need to act, just yet. Perhaps it was their way of testing him, but Calleum called for a volunteer, one who would guide the former Shinigami along his path to becoming a Vizard. Perhaps revelation was the first step to control? Experience as a prerequisite seemed to point in that direction, yet Zeich was not sure how the two would be connected. Perhaps it was meant as a means of analysis? Nonetheless, none of the other Vizards stepped forward; either they were unwilling, or they lacked the experience required. This was a surprise, and required a re-evaluation of the group around him. Zeich had expected that the group was composed completely of competent, experienced members who knew how to control and use the power of their Inner Hollow. If they lacked the experience to teach him, then what did it make those who gathered before him?

One finally stepped forward, and even the stoic former Shinigami showed a brief flash of surprise; Aijou Manako, a name that all Shinigami knew from their history lessons in the Academy. A former Shinigami, and ally to Arashi Manako, who had sacrificed so much for their world. Later a Vizard, one who had stood by Zouma Santeku, a previously known Vizard leader. And now, that same woman stood before him, one who had been on both sides for the best and the worst, who probably had the best understanding of each as she stood there before him. Objectively, Zeich could not think of a better teacher than one who had such experience backing her, but subjectively, he wanted to back away. He remembered the reports revolving around the death of Zouma Santeku, and some of the aftermath; Aijou had been a presence to be feared, then!

Yet as she approached, she formed a mask in one hand: a Vizard mask. Zeich eyes narrowed as he lowered one hand to his Zanpaktou's hilt lightly, ready to defend himself; had this gone from teaching to execution? If his words earlier had given offense, as he feared, perhaps she had decided that she did not want to tolerate teaching him. Yet Calleum seemed unmoved, unbothered by Aijou drawing her mask; he had asked for a volunteer to reveal his Hollow and allow Zeich to take the first step towards control, and he was not stopping Aijou's advance. Could it be that this was the start of the test? If so, what did it mean, drawing her mask like that? Was it a means of connecting with his Hollow? The former Shinigami took an actual step back as the woman started to approach, her Zanpaktou drawn and dragging lightly behind her.

Master, calm yourself! Do not show fear, lest they tear you apart!

That retreating step was terminated halfway as Zeich recovered his mental balance, eyes narrowing while he regained his sense of calm. Haiiro was right; the last thing that Zeich needed to do was show that his confidence and conviction were wavering. No, if this was part of the test... then he needed to do what had to be done. Reflexively, Zeich drew his own Zanpaktou from its sheath; perhaps it was trial by combat, to draw out his Inner Hollow's rage and aggression. It would not be hard to channel the Shadow in battle, seeing as the Hollow constantly raged against its spiritual prison, just waiting for the slightest weakness. It fed upon anger, aggression, and fear; at this state, trying to control it, Zeich would be pushed to his limits almost immediately, and it would certainly catch the Shadow's attention.

Suddenly Aijou vanished, appearing only a few feet away in an amazing burst of speed. Zeich was fairly fast himself, and his reflexes were good, yet he hadn't even been able to keep up by a long shot. This was the power of the Vizard mask, he realized as the woman came forward in an attack, her Zanpaktou slashing down. Zeich, knowing that his strength was severely crippled by lack of restful sleep and the effort of controlling his Inner Hollow, didn't even try and parry or block; instead, he stepped aside as best as he could, though his motions were slower than he would have liked. In fact, even though he made a Shunpo step to the side to avoid such a rapid attack, the former Shinigami felt as though he hadn't even managed to reach half of his normal speed, and that had been reacting as best as he could! He had to learn to channel the Shadow's power quickly, lest such weakness get him killed. Hopefully this battle, or whatever it was, would be the first step in getting there.

Zeich did not attempt a counterattack, knowing that he could not begin to keep up with Aijou's speed, if her first demonstration was any indication. Indeed, such an action might be seen as aggressive in a way that the other Vizards did not like. It was difficult, fighting with a potentially hostile audience around him; if he made a wrong move, or offended them again, they could easily swoop down and tear him apart. So instead, the Shinigami stepped back again, making some space between himself and Aijou as he raised his sword before him with both hands. This was another indication of his weakened strength; normally Zeich wielded his sword with a single hand, leaving the other free for various maneuvers. Using both indicated that he needed the strength of both arms to be effective.

“I do not wish to be part Hollow, if I can help it.” Zeich countered verbally, as he could not do so physically. “I would rather be rid of the damned thing, and return to my normal life. Yet I doubt that it is possible, as Squad 12's records are extremely limited, and I doubt they would have passed up an opportunity to study a Vizard and the abilities that came with it. I don't want to become a Hollow; I simply wish to control it.” Zeich's Zanpaktou didn't waver, held before him defensively. “I don't know what your motivations are. Frankly I don't care. I came for the assistance I needed to keep control of my own body. What happens after that is unknown even to me.”

“But I do know one thing.” The former Shinigami frowned as his eyes scanned the room, moving from one Vizard to another. He knew the words he was about to say could potentially offend them, possibly even cause them to kill him. “I know that I will not betray Soul Society. Even if I have been rejected, have been branded an outcast and a target to kill on sight, I will not betray the home that I have sworn to protect. If you would have me among your number, know that this will never change; I will not choose to oppose you should this one condition be met. This is not a request or a demand; it is a statement of fact. Know that I will not betray you, so long as I am in turn not betraying my principles.”

Bah, a pretty speech! But can you back it up, boy? The Shadow's voice rose up for the first time in several days, causing Zeich to flinch automatically. The other Vizards likely knew what the motion meant, watching him; after all, they had more experience with their Inner Hollow than he did. The moment your life is in danger, you will be forced to beg and grovel, to obey or die. Will you die, or will you give in to me again? I'll be waiting for your decision!

Zeich didn't respond to the Shadow's goading, though it was all he could do to keep from trembling. His heart beat fast, his breathing sped up; he was feeling the fear that had arisen within him at the Hollow's presence in the past. He had to get a hold of himself, and quickly, lest the Shadow use that as a foothold to take control again. So Zeich raised his voice again, this time addressing the whole room. “Aijou, and the rest of the Vizards gathered here; would you accept one such as myself, knowing the price of my loyalty? I know you can kill me in a heartbeat, and would have done so if you had chosen. There is a purpose to my being here, else you would have left me to be consumed. Is that purpose worth the price? If so, then let us continue; I wish to control this beast within me as soon as possible. If not, however, I will leave, and never look back. Even if it costs me my life, I will protect Soul Society.”

Remaining Reiatsu: 6950/7000 (-50 for Shunpo)

[Kento Waffles]

I think this one played for Ichigo's test too XD

IN THE COMPOUND OF THE MIGHTY VAIZARD, ZEICH SEEKS A WAY TO WIN AGAINST HIS INNER ENEMY. HERE, HE HAS COME FACE TO FACE WITH THE NEW VIZARD COMPANY, HEADED BY CALLEUM MORGANA. BUT... HIS HOPE HAS NOT YET BEEN REALIZED. ASKED TO BEAR HIS DARKNESS, ZEICH NOW FINDS HIMSELF FACE TO FACE WITH A YOUNG GIRL NAMED AIJOU MANAKO. HER STRENGTH FAR EXCEEDS HIS, AND HE KNOWS THAT, BUT HE MUST CARRY ON. IF HE DOES NOT, THEN HE WILL BE DEFEATED NOT JUST BY HER BLADE, BUT BY WHAT IS INSIDE OF HIM. IF THIS IS ALLOWED TO HAPPEN, THEN ZEICH WILL BE OF NO USE TO HIS SOUL SOCIETY. THAT IS WHY... ZEICH MUST FIGHT ON.

Aijou pulled her mask to the side after all of Zeich's words. She'd stopped attacking after he started talking, and after he dodged her first attack. He'd been very, very slow. Her blade had been so close to him that upon his dodging, it had come within a single centimeter of his throat. Had Zeich just been a bit closer, the damage would have been catastrophic. But it wasn't that she was trying necessarily to kill him. Aijou was trying to beat him. That was it. So, her mask to the side, Aijou spat on the ground, with that sort of punk ish look people get when they're in the zone.

"OI!" a voice shouted. "DON'T SPIT ON MY FLOOR!" Guess someone had a thing for cleaning this warehouse. Or maybe someone actually did own it. "I don't really care about your motivations," Aijou told Zeich. "If you're worried about the Soul Society, we stay far away from them, and that's how we prefer it. But you... What will you do when they try to slaughter you? When even with your loyalty, you're hunted by them?" Her point was that they would still try to kill him, despite his loyalty. It was blatant racism. Just for being Vizards, these people were hunted by the Soul Society. No wonder they were so bitter.

"What will you do when the Crimson King comes for you?" Aijou asked. There, she had a point. Sozen Kuchiki, the Crimson King. They called him that because of his penchant for blood and his ability to destroy enemies just with the color of red. Aijou Manako was right to be weary of him, too. Sozen Kuchiki was responsible for the death of Zouma Santeku. More than Zouma. He had killed nearly all of the previous Vizards in cold blood. He had tortured some of them for information on others, too. Except for one, reported killed during a war, and another, who remained alive and at large somewhere, Sozen had driven Zouma's group to extinction. All but Aijou. When it came to Hollows, Sozen was known to be merciless.

Aijou pulled her mask back onto her face, and she moved at Zeich. This time, she used a flash step to ensure that she got there fast. Too fast. Her attack was too fast, because as her blade came down once again at his chest, Zeich was going to find it was too fast to simply dodge. Could he block it? If so, his blade would still be cut through like butter because of his weakened spiritual presence. And after that? He'd get a small nick on his chest if nothing else was done. But if he released, he might lose himself to the Hollow. Anyway, Aijou didn't give him very much time to react.

Another flash step got her behind him, delivering a powerful kick to his back. And whatever happened then, another flash step took her to his side, slashing across one of his thighs for what would be a shallow, but painful and disorienting cut. Then, another flash step to get above him. He would be slammed over the head with the flat of her blade, driving him into the ground with great force. It would hurt, and be a crippling blow. Any of those hitting would hurt, but Aijou was so fast... So relentless. The power she gained through Hollowfication was just too much. No wonder she had been so much trouble for Soul Society.

"Release your damn Zanpakuto," Aijou told Zeich. "Give me your best shot so I can beat the shit out of that too."

Aijou's Remaining Reiatsu: 2600/3000 Reiatsu (-250 when end)

Hollowfication Post Count: 1/11

[Zeich Yajuu]

Zeich took a deep breath, calming himself again. He wasn't dead yet; that was a good sign. Aijou had paused, removing her mask briefly to address him, and her words stung: What if he was forced to fight against Soul Society? She was right in that they were extremely racist against Vizards, treating them as tainted, as monsters simply because of the fact that their souls contained a Hollow. Yet if they were monsters, was it truly only because of that Inner Hollow? Was it not because they were persecuted, hunted down, constantly having their backs put to the wall as their extermination was demanded by those who did not understand? Sure, it was possible that there were Vizards with evil intentions, but wasn't that the same for any society? Zeich had never been one to believe that any one race was perfect; there was good and bad among all of them. The question of loyalty was not without merit.

“I will do what I can should a situation arise.” Zeich said quietly, his voice empty of emotion. It wasn't his usual icy demeanor; it was one of resignation, one that said he knew that such a thing might happen. But his eyes did not show sorrow, fear, or anger; instead, they showed acceptance of the situation. “I cannot plan ahead for every situation, prepare a solution for each problem; my objective will be to avoid conflict with them as a whole. In this, we are united. We will simply avoid the Shinigami. As for those who would come after me, despite my loyalty... they are unable to comprehend the fact that we are still human in our own ways. Perhaps we can never make them understand. Misunderstanding is not evil, merely ignorant, and I cannot hate them for such a decision.”

There was no further time to talk, however; Aijou replaced her mask, and restarted her offensive. Zeich stepped back as she disappeared in another quick movement, but this time his reaction was too slow; the blade dug into his chest, leaving only a light cut that bled slightly, staining his shirt around the wound red. This confirmed to Zeich that this was part of the test, part of his training to become a Vizard; if Aijou wanted to kill him for his choices, then she would have done so. But what were they testing? Were they truly trying to draw out his Inner Hollow? For what purpose? Questions upon questions rose up, but there were no answers. Zeich had a choice: he could release the Shadow, as he was told, or continue to resist. Maybe they were testing his endurance, his ability to withhold his Inner Hollow, or maybe he was going against the very thing that he needed. Nonetheless, the former Shinigami was unwilling to let the darkness out unless there was no other choice, no matter what it took.

Zeich didn't have time to retaliate to the first strike, however; as he started to complete his step backwards, the motion was stopped by a kick to his back, starting to make him stumble forward. A slash to his thigh nearly made him fall as blood welled out from the wound, while a blow to the head completed that fall, leaving the man on his knees. Every attack was quick and merciless, attacks designed to hurt and beat him down. Zeich, having seen such tactics used by others in both combat and torture, understood the purpose of it; by beating down his body, they hoped to weaken his spirit, forcing him towards the path that they wanted. In this case, they sought anger, self-defense; they wanted to draw out his Zanpaktou, and by extension, his Inner Hollow. But was it to force compliance, or as a test of his endurance, his resistance against the Shadow's release? Zeich wasn't sure, but he would be damned if he was going to let the darkness out willingly.

Don't take too long, boy. I wouldn't want my body damaged too badly; I'm quite over the joy of feeling again, at least for pain. Just close your eyes, and I'll take over...

No. You won't be going anywhere as long as I can help it.

As long as you can help it...? If that is what you want...

A jolt of pain rocketed through Zeich's skull suddenly, and if it weren't for the fact that he was already on his knees, the former Shinigami might have toppled over. As it was, one hand clutched at his head reflexively, and the other shot to the ground to steady himself. His Zanpaktou clattered to the ground, dropped suddenly as he nearly fell. I'm sorry, did that hurt? It must be so frustrating, trying to focus through the pain. You might want to watch out, though. Automatically, Zeich leapt backwards with a Shunpo, without an attack needing to come his way. It was instinct, not knowledge, yet he had no way of knowing if an attack was coming. Without seeing or sensing an attack, he had just done it. And why? Because the Inner Hollow had spoken to him, and he had just acted on its word.

Control isn't so easy to keep, is it? All it takes is a moment's distraction... Zeich's hand twitched towards his Zanpaktou that was lying only a few feet away, but he stopped it, trying to focus on keeping control. The pressure in his head increased, a feeling he knew too well; the Shadow was putting all of its energy into taking control, trying to wrest his body away again. Zeich had dealt with the Hollow's possessions in the past, but never had such a powerful attempt been made, and fear filled him as his vision blurred. No. No, he was going to remain in control. He was in control. He would suppress the Shadow, just like every other time. He wouldn't let the darkness win. He wouldn't let it win. Zeich repeated it to himself like a mantra as he struggled to his feet, taking a slow, steadying breath. The bruises on his body ached, but the pain was pushed away; he couldn't let his concentration slip again.

The whole ordeal had taken at least three minutes, leaving plenty of room for Aijou to heap on the physical abuse while he was struggling. Yet Zeich stood, his muscles stiff as he tried to straighten. His eyes, when the others looked at them, would be much closer to gold than they had been before. Hints of black lurked in the corners of each eye, the sign of encroaching Hollowfication, yet he stood, forcing it back. The former Shinigami was breathing hard, but soon he was fully on his feet, staring down Aijou with a strange expression. Some might say he was resolute in his stand against Aijou, while others might see it as though he wasn't seeing the scene before him at all; was he slipping into an internal battle with the darkness he refused to yield to?

“Is... is that all?” Zeich's hand rested on his Zanpaktou's hilt again as he leaned over to pick it up briefly, grasping it in only one hand. The other hand rested lightly on his head, as though he were warding off a headache; indeed, he could feel the Shadow's presence welling up again, preparing for a second offensive. The man felt like he was fighting a battle on two fronts, one physical and one mental, yet he couldn't let his concentration on either slip for a moment if he wanted to survive this. “It's going... going to take more than that before I let him out.” The black starting to stain his left eye said otherwise, but the spread was slow, and stopped frequently. Maybe, just maybe, he could hold it back through sheer force of will.

Good luck with that...

Remaining Reiatsu: 6900/7000 (-50 for Shunpo)

[Kento Waffles]

Still waiting on Kuroko OST 3...

There was some sort of "oh shit" moment when Zeich asked Aijou to essentially bring it. Something like You do not ask Aijou to bring it. They all knew that Zeich had trodden on something he probably shouldn't have. Maybe it was one of Aijou's peeves. He was about to find out firsthand, being in combat with Aijou and all. AIJOU! One of the Vizards from the upper level called out. YOU'RE GETTING A MOP AND CLEANING MY DAMN FLOOR AFTER THIS. GET ALL THAT BLOOD OFF OF IT. Someone really liked their floor to be sparkling clean. Zeich was lucky that he hadn't been blamed for the floor yet. Because. Technically. It was his fault for bleeding on it.

Aijou started dragging her sword across the floor, creating an ominous scraping sound as she scratched it. Obviously, this further enraged the guy who liked his floor. But it was smoothed out cement, so actually, why should he even really care about the floor? It wasn't that hard to clean. Though, marble would be better. That was why marble was expensive, right? Beautiful, hard to make, easy to clean. Hard surfaces like that were really nice. Aijou wasn't playing around anymore, though... How could you tell? She got quiet. Instead of yammering something offensive at Zeich, she was going on the offensive herself. Normally she was so sweet, too... If he saw her later, he probably wouldn't even recognize her.

Aijou's Zanpakuto left her hand in an instant, disappearing. How the hell had she done that? Simple. Speed and strength. The physical speed and physical strength increase from her Hollowfication would allow her to throw her Zanpakuto. With Zeich's injuries and their relatively close proximity, it shouldn't be hard for it to hit Zeich right in the foot, stabbing into it and impaling it, and digging into the floor to nail Zeich into place. Shunpo Karin's use in that movement didn't hurt, either. So basically, Zeich was stuck there with Aijou's blade. The Vizard eyed Zeich with eyes blacker than his own, for both were black. A Hollow's eyes. The kind of eyes that Zeich was starting to develop, now.

"I'll just force it out," Aijou told Zeich calmly. "Inner Hollows are predictable like that. He doesn't want to let you die." Aijou pointed her finger at Zeich. A Cero started to form on Aijou's finger. Oh, that wasn't good. Deep red as it was, that thing looked hot. It was a Cero, which alone had enormous destructive potential. But if Aijou fired that off with the heightened reiatsu ability she got from Hollowfication, it was bound to be extremely destructive. The Vizard's Cero was inherently more destructive than the regular Hollow's Cero. If Aijou hit Zeich with that thing, he really might die, which made it now or never..

Aijou's Remaining Reiatsu: 2600/3000 Reiatsu (-350 when end)

Hollowfication Post Count: 2/11

[Zeich Yajuu]

Pain flashed through Zeich's mind like lightning as the sword impaled his foot. Golden eyes went wide as he fell again, his leg wrenching as his foot refused to turn due to the blade pinning it into the ground. A stifled hiss of pain emerged from behind clenched teeth as he reached for the weapon, determined to pull it out, but there was no time; a flash of movement had Aijou standing above him. Black eyes met those still lost in the gray of transition, and the two seemed to stare at each other for an almost eternal instant. In Aijou's eyes, Zeich saw himself, what he could become. Those eyes, though they were the black gaze of a Hollow's, held control, calm, rationality; if he could obtain that strength, then this trial would be worth it. He would endure whatever it took.

But that moment was gone, and the sense of awe was replaced by a new feeling. Cold terror plunged through him like an icicle stabbed into his chest as a bright orb of Reiatsu materialized only inches away from his face, forming in Aijou's hand. Zeich had fought enough Hollows and Arrancar to recognize a Cero on sight, though this was new to him; he hadn't been aware that Vizards had a similar abilities. The most he had heard, from the few records he had found on the subject, was about a Vizard's mask and the general strength it conferred. From experience, Zeich had seen that a Hollowfied Vizard, one who had lost to their Inner Hollow, could summon Cero but he had always assumed that it was because the Hollow was in control. Here... here he now knew that all Vizards could use it, not just those who had been possessed.

But there was no time to act; the Cero was charging only scant inches from Zeich, and he couldn't move with the blade in his foot. The former Shinigami doubted that he could have avoided it so simply anyway, given Aijou's immense speed. So what was he going to do? Keeping the Inner Hollow in check, he couldn't try and use his Bankai to evade, not that he had much experience using it yet anyway. Even Shikai might be too much Reiatsu released to keep the Shadow's influence at bay, yet without it, could Zeich even survive? Would his Shikai be enough to even counter the attack? He wasn't sure, had no idea how to begin to stop Aijou.

SPOILER: Click to show

{Song Time!}

Suddenly, Aijou would find something impacting her arm with surprising strength, more than the weakened Zeich had shown prior to this moment. It might not have been enough to actually hurt the woman, especially given that her mask was in place to amplify her strength, but it was sudden, a swift burst of movement unlike any that the former Shinigami had shown up until this point. Reflexive, instinctive, the move had come in a strike that even Zeich himself hadn't planned, a motion that had just happened without any way for him to even predict it. Aijou might have seen it, her abilities bolstered further by her mask, but it was a motion that was too automatic and unplanned to be Zeich's normal form of attack.

Even more surprising would be the blood that would flow should the attack connect, as unlikely as it was that it would happen. Eyes that were more black than white turned to look at the outstretched hand after attempting to knock Aijou's hand away, and then they'd widen with fear. The entire hand was gray, a burnt, darkened color, while each finger was tipped by a long, blade-like claw. Ash; the entire hand was covered in ash, the same kind that came from Zeich's Zanpaktou. When had he released his Shikai? Had he done so automatically, without thinking about it? Worse, this wasn't a tactic that Zeich himself had ever been able to use; Haiiro Ken had always been limited to forming weapons, not actually making alterations to the body. Sure, it was a layer of ash almost like a glove rather than a change to the skin and bones, but it was an alteration that went beyond Zeich's normal scope. He had only seen it happen once.

It's mine...!

Zeich suddenly collapsed again, but this time the pain was fully audible as his body twisted, his muscles spasming as he fought with all of his might to retain control. He let out a strangled cry as his arm lashed out suddenly, as though trying to free itself of the ash shaping itself around it, then slammed into the ground with surprising force, the claws smashing through the pavement with surprising ease. Given that the strength of the ashen blades was equal to Zeich's spiritual power, it was no trouble to tear through simple physical concrete. Those claws raked through the stone, tearing up a large chunk of the pavement, before they reached up to grab the blade that was stabbed into the former Shinigami's foot. Ash flowed down the blade, but didn't try to break it; likely, it would be impossible given the immense amount of spiritual energy that Aijou's mask provided.

No, what the ash did was actually flow down the length of the blade, and enter the wound caused by it. Zeich's ash literally entered his body. The ash would pool beneath the blade's tip, and start shoving it upwards. Sure, he couldn't break the blade, but Aijou wasn't holding the sword in place; it was easy enough to force the weapon free. The sword wouldn't clatter to the floor, though; it would lift from Zeich's foot, which would be covered in ash much like his hand, forming an almost paw-like extension over it, with long claws that dug into the concrete. The man who hadn't liked his floor being damaged earlier would probably be having a heart attack at this point, given how much damage Zeich was doing to it, yet the to-be Vizard didn't seem to notice. Actually, he didn't seem to notice much at all as he stood up, his body briefly limp as he got to his feet. Had it happened? Had the Inner Hollow finally taken over again?

He vanished less than a moment later in the step of a Shunpo, appearing behind Aijou as his arm swung in a rapid arc fueled by Shunpo Karin. The same maneuver she had used on him was being returned as the Vizard's own sword was hurled directly at her at impressive speeds, aimed straight for her chest. Avoidance would be tricky even for the mask-enhanced Aijou, but it was likely that she could do it, as the movement speed of Zeich's arm only influenced the throw so much. But it was an avoidance planned for as ash exploded off of the hilt of the sword as it neared Aijou, attempting to ensnare her arms and legs in bands of gray ash. Haiiro Gokusha was a strong technique designed to completely suppress an opponent's movements, and if it struck, the woman would find her arms bound behind her and her legs unable to move. If not, well... there was plenty left that could still be done to her, given time. Zeich had even given up the ash on his hand in order to provide enough for both sets of binding, indicating that he was serious.

“Sorry for taking so long to get here. I suppose I'm fashionably late.” Zeich's voice was deeper than before, and more malicious. Emotion that normally was left out of the man's cold voice was now painfully obvious; a delight at the prospect of drawing blood, a desire to harm something, and the pleasure of a life stolen for himself were all present there. “But now that I'm here... why don't you put that cute little mask away, girl? I'm sure I could have a lot more fun with a bitch like you. I hope you're a good bleeder; I like to toy with my food before I kill it, and torture whets the appetite...”

Remaining Reiatsu: 6200/7000 (-150 for Shikai, -100 for Haiiro Ken x2, -50 for Shunpo, -100 for Shunpo Karin, and -300 for Haiiro Gokusha x2 (arms/legs))

Shikai: 1/10

[Kento Waffles]

Music

SLAM![/b] It was instant. When focused, the hollow mask allowed one to resist the power of gravitational pressure. But, when it was just the inner hollow taking over, it couldn't do that. And, in this case, Zeich, even at his best, was outclassed. The immense reiatsu of Calleum Morgana was too strong, and at that very second after the hollow had hurled his sword, which Aijou had stepped to the side to dodge, Calleum exerted his powerful reiatsu. Everyone in the room started to shake, but in particular, Zeich would be crushed, his vision swimming, his senses disoriented, and his powers unable to resist.

Worst of all came when all of the other Vizards suddenly Hollowfied, resisting Calleum's pressure. Then, all using step techniques, they fell upon Zeich, who was already being crushed by Calleum Morgana's spiritual pressure. He suddenly had every Vizard in the house on top of him, and their blades were pinned all over his body, not stabbing him, but threatening to. And, because of his paralysis, it was just that easy for one of the Vizards to crack into Zeich's mask and shatter it, ending the hollow takeover. The shortest takeover he had ever had. The least destructive. Despite having been taken over, he had easily been subdued. Because the power of his hollow was not absolute.

As the pressure faded, and the Vizards dis-spelled their masks, Calleum dropped down to Zeich's level and started walking toward him. "As you can see," Calleum said. "Even when consumed by your darkness, we are more powerful than you. We are more powerful than your inner Hollow." Calleum Morgana reached Zeich, and he dropped into a crouch, since Zeich had been flattened onto his stomach. Somewhere in the background, someone was chewing out Aijou, presumably about the floor. In defiance, Aijou looked away, and then spat on the floor again. This led to harsh loud voicing, but it turned into a drowned out buzz before Calleum's words, which would be all Zeich could hear for real.

"We can make you like us. We can make you stronger than your Hollow. He is not absolute. Look around you. Nothing has been destroyed. All that blood on the floor? Every drop of it is yours. How long did that takeover last? Two, maybe three seconds? And then we subdued you. Nobody died. Nothing was destroyed. He does not control you. He does not own you. Rather, you will own him when we are through with you. Do not fight with fear, or with lack of hope. Fight with the knowing calm that we have given you." He was very good guidance. That whole fight hadn't even been to evaluate Zeich. It had been to prove a point to him.

Someone else later approached Zeich, and delivered to him the bad news. "If you're going to be tested, I want you to run. For a week straight, non stop. 24/7. No food. No water. No rest. At the 8.0 setting. On my treadmill." So, Zeich literally had to run for a week straight. After that, he would begin the ritual. After that, the Hollow fight would begin. But, at some point, someone else gave Zeich a different warning too. This one was possibly from Aijou, but Zeich, still blacked by Calleum's powerful reiatsu in those few minutes, would probably not recognize whoever it was that spoke, save for Calleum himself.

"When we begin the Hollowfication Ritual, I just want you to know... We aren't like Zouma Santeku. Ours is different. You'll see."

[Zeich Yajuu]

“What the fuck—” Suddenly, the Hollowfied man let out a strangled gasp as he was slammed to the ground by the spiritual presence of Caellum Morgana. It wasn't just any spiritual pressure, but the pressure of the Vizard leader. Any of the Vizards might have been enough to pin him down with their strength, but the leader's was unreal. Every muscle froze, and his vision blurred. Sound seemed to distort, and the ground fell away beneath his feet. Everything seemed unreal for a moment, and for that moment, the possessed Vizard felt as though he were floating rather than falling before he snapped back into focus. Even then his senses were strictly limited by the amount of spiritual energy pressing down on him.

Blades surrounded him in a forest next, slicing through the ground and digging into the concrete floor. One even clipped Zeich's partially-formed mask, shattering it before it could complete itself. The shock dispersed his Zanpaktou, ash disappearing as though it had never been there, the reformed sword clattering to the ground halfway between himself and Aijou. The paw-like extension that had been covering his foot disappeared, and without the ash forming a skin-tight layer across it, blood began to flow from the wound in his foot again, pooling around it on the floor. The pain that had been held back by the Inner Hollow's bloodlust returned, a sharp, cold sensation through his foot that made his vision blur further.

Yet the point was made: the Vizard were powerful, more so than Zeich's Inner Hollow. One had been enough to crush Zeich and pin him down before any destruction could occur, and the rest had easily shattered any remaining control. For a moment, the former Shinigami allowed himself to feel hope as the last dregs of shadow floated away, leaving his mind clear. If these people could contain the Shadow so easily, removing its hold over him with an almost unreal ease, then perhaps they really could teach him. Perhaps he had a chance.

But that hope was not held long, not through the shattering of faith, but through practicality. Zeich still had no way of knowing whether or not he would be able to master the technique that the others planned to teach him. He had no certainty that he would have the same self-control as the others. There was no guarantee. All he had was a hope, and while he would strive to make it a truth, the former Shinigami still understood that it was equally possible that he would lose control for good. If that happened, if his life was snuffed out by the darkness within him, then that was that. Hope would not stop the truth, should such an eventuality come to pass.

I believe in you, Master. You will pass this trial, and you will be stronger for it. Though you may not want my help, I am with you all the way, until the very end.

Yeah... you're here with me. I know that. Hopefully your optimism is contagious...

Zeich's eyes met Caellum's as the man finished speaking, despite the pressure bearing down on him. Gold met blue, and the man on the ground spoke. Defiance and pride shone in his eyes. “I do not fight with hope, but I do not fight with fear, either. Hope is a denial of possibility, an unwillingness to see all paths extending forward. Fear is a weakness, a desire to hide from that same truth. Hope and fear are two sides of the same coin, and I will abandon both to fight for something else: the truth of what shall be. I will fight to shape a future I desire, but if I cannot reach that end, I will not flinch away from the possibilities that may be. That is the calm I will fight with.”

Finally, he was allowed to stand, and slowly Zeich pushed himself to his feet. He still felt dizzy, his vision still blurred, but he was standing at least; given a few minutes, he figured he could recover from Caellum's spiritual presence. The man had finally toned it down, allowing the former Shinigami to catch his breath... though not for long, it seemed, as the others had plans for him. Someone mentioned running for a week straight, and surprisingly, Zeich was not sure if it was serious or not. Though many of the Vizards seemed fairly laid back when they weren't getting down to business, their “sense of humor” made it hard to tell what was a joke, and what was not.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though they were serious this time, and Zeich found himself aboard a treadmill. He was fast enough to keep up with it, that was no problem; the man had been known to be fairly fast among Shinigami, though he wasn't quite up to the tier of those who were absolutely focused on their speed. Keeping up with a treadmill was a simple enough task, one that didn't seem particularly arduous at all... at least, not until about the third hour of the first day. Once his legs started burning, the muscles protesting at the long run, the trek became far more difficult. Zeich tried “cheating” briefly, wondering if it was a test of his wits as he summoned an Advanced Air Ground platform beneath his feet in order to rest his legs, but that was soon disproved as his supervisor shattered the platform and nearly flattened Zeich with his spiritual presence. The former Shinigami learned quickly that they were in it for the long haul.

Time passed. Zeich found himself slipping into a sort of trance-like state as he ran, his body's exhaustion numbing his mind as much as his muscles. His pace slowed several times, and his head drooped as he tried to nod off, but each time he was about to fall asleep or falter, his supervisor had him running again with a blow to to the head or body, drawing Zeich back into reality for a few more minutes. The week would drag on forever as the torment seemed to grow, time seeming to stretch out with every second that passed. Zeich's mind began to shut down, his body keeping to that autonomous pattern of movement that it had settled into. And yet he ran, and ran, unaware that he was even running anymore.

And then the week was done, leaving a dazed and semi-comatose Zeich lying on the ground for a good ten hours as his body desperately tried to rest and recuperate the damage done to it between exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition. If this was what it took to tame his Inner Hollow... he began to wonder which was the greater torture, this or further possession. Time would only tell, but as that time passed, the Vizard-to-be began to think he was getting the worse end of the deal...