Difference of Views (NDE | R)

[Deleted]

Thread Title: Difference of Views (NDE | R)
Participants: Umaroth & Dread Tsaj
World: Hueco Mundo
Death Setting: Non Death Enabled
Rating: R
Location: This battle takes place among the endless sands of Hueco Mundo. There is nothing of note here. There is even a lack of the famous quartz trees.
Special Conditions: None.
Circumstances: The thread begins with Umaroth searching the sands for quartz upon the orders of his Captain. As he scavenges about he comes across the site of a female Arrancar dispatching some Hollows. Approaching, the lizards behavior causes the two to begin battle.

[Deleted]

It was funny how things turned out sometimes, wasn't it? One minute things would be looking up for you, then the next life throws a set of flaming curveballs right at your face. That's how life was for the reptile sometimes. His integration into society, yes the crew was something resembling one, hadn't been the easiest thing. It wasn't that Umaroth was shy, or unwilling to integrate, it was the fact that he was violent. Umaroth was a competitor, a predator, a natural born alpha. To be on the bottom of something, to be walked all over, it was against his very being. He could accept Ajraka, his captain, to lead him. She had proved herself to him and he respected her for her strength, but the rest of the Gillianships crew had not yet received his respect.

And because of that, Umaroth had a reputation in the ship. He was known for his outbursts, for getting into fights with the crew. Whether or not he had started it was irrelevant. He had gotten into numerous scuffles since joining the crew, some of them caused by him and some of them not. He had a short trigger, easily exploding on anyone except for Ajraka. The Captain was the only person he would not snap at immediately, following her orders without question. Another thing the crew noticed was that he never once fought back when he was punished. Umaroth respected her, he wouldn't question her verbally, and she provided for him. Ajraka provided him with knowledge, strength, and an opportunity. Something he had lacked in his lake.

So he wandered. The ship had anchored itself so that the crew could depart and search the sands. Search for what? What could be found in the desolate wasteland of Hueco Mundo? It was, in fact, quartz. The stone trees that gave the desert some sort of feature. Umaroth knew not what the stone was used for, only knowing that he had been told to find and retrieve it. It wouldn't be too hard to spot; given it was a stone that resembled a tree more or less. He could feel the sand between his toes as he walked, still not quite used to the feeling of pants. This had been the one and only thing Umaroth and Ajraka ever, actually, fought about. Getting Umaroth into a set of clothes required more than shouting; it required actually hurting him and threatening to dump him in the desert.

He growled, tugging on the pant leg. His clothes had enough space that he would be able to move with efficiency, as they were nothing more than knee length trousers. He would only wear pants. There was no way in hell anyone was even going to be able to get some sort of top on him anyways. It would be impossible, considering the spikes he had on the upper portion of his body. He might have been able to wear a sleeveless vest...but it was just given up on. So long as Umaroths vent was covered so his sizable dong didn't slip out on accident everything was fine. He tugged on the robe strapped over his shoulder to make sure the container he carried was still back there. How long had he been wandering?

He still had the scent of the ship, so he could be able to find his way back so long as nothing distorted the scent that is. His eyes locked onto the horizon as he made his way up a dune, he paused as he neared the top. A new scent? He sniffed the air a few times, moving his head in different directions to better pinpoint its direction. It was one he recognized immediately. Hollow. He growled, making his way up to the top of the dune to get a better look. Crouching down on the top he scanned the landscape beneath him, and then saw the source. Blue eyes narrowed at what he watched, head tilting slightly. Why was a two legs here? What was it doing? Could it be a crew mate? He couldn't quite tell from this distance, so he decided to investigate a little more...that animalistic curiosity of his getting to him.

He made his way down the dune, watching to make sure the woman he was heading towards didn't attack him suddenly. Reaching the base he paused, eyes darting around the battlefield laid out before him as he began to approach. He stopped before getting too close, one clawed toe rising up and pressing itself against the head of one of the fallen Hollows. She wasn't one of the crew. Her scent was completely different. It lacked the oily, invasive stench of Ajraka. His eyes narrowed as his simple brain tried to process what was going on, so in the end he simply asked it."Hollows threat...why not kill?" He had gotten better at speaking and understanding in the time he spent aboard the Gillianship. "Who you?"

Remaining Reiatsu: 750 / 750

SPOILER: Click to show

{Stats and Skills}


Strength - 230 = 345 Points

Speed - 185 = 231 Points

Spiritual Pressure - 150 = 75 Points

Reiatsu Strength - 50 = 25 Points

Light Aura - 60 Points

Dark Aura - 40 Points

Instinct - 150 Points

Senses - 150 Points

Energy sensory - 0 Points

Healing Expertise - 0 Points

Total SP: 915 Points

• [Martial Arts: Street-Fighting] {1}
• [Battle Analysis] {1}
• [Pain Tolerance] {1}
• [Damage Recovery] {1}
• [Strength of Will] {1}
• [Other: Intimidation] {1}

[/b]

[/ul]
[/spoiler]

[Tsajara Dread]

Dread so detested their fate. The hollows themselves she cared for, even felt pity upon, knowing that so long ago she was so very much the same. She all but wept as they approached her, those gaping mouths seeking sustainence. She could only watch sorrowfully as they crept in, shrouded by that burlap cloak around her, her hood all but completely obstructing her sad features as the first had closed win, drool speckling the sand beneath them. The first of it's attacks a sudden hack and a spit, acidic slime flung in her direction. 

She deftly avoided it, stepping forward past the hollow as her blade tore it's way through the beast's elbows and knees, it's crouching position only making such attacks all the easier as she then kicked the poor thing to the ground, a dissapointed look in her eyes as she then looked to the others. They were gnashing their teeth. No more than a few moments later the lot of them were screeching on the ground, those that were still conscious. Dread's blade weeping crimson tears as she glanced over her shoulder, spotting Umaroth as they closed in. She said nothing for a few moments, those pure-white eyes shrouded by equally radiant hair simply taking him in.

He had a brutish way about him that superseded any type of animalism a hollow might have. He was....simpler, more concise. There was no trickery about him that she could sense, and truly she simply felt as if he was portraying exactly what he felt. Her eyes drifting down as his claw tapped on the skull of one of the downed hollows. A soft flick of her wrist as the blood was swept from her blade and she settled back into her seat on the dune, arms folding across her knees as she stared calmly in his direction, her spiritual pressure letting out a low rumble that moved outward in a wave. 

"They can't control themselves. They're just hungry. In pain.... like I was." She said softly, looking at the hollow beneath Umaroth's feet, her head tilting to the side for a moment before she looked back up at the male. "They still have a destiny. A Purpose. One day they may tear those masks from their faces. They might look up into the pale moon and let go of all that anger. These hollows, may yet have an important role to play. To do great, or terrible things." She noted, a pleased smile crossing her lips as she then looked directly at him.

"As very well you may too. Young man." She added. Even though she looked forever young, she still had a very...ancient way about her. Even this feral beast Umaroth would be able to see it, and feel it. She was very very old. An ancient way about everything she did. As if she had had millenia to fine tune them, giving her a grace that many simply did not have the time to acquire. And at that very same time, she seemed frail, despite the groaning de-limbed bodies that were strewn around her. 

"So then....young one. I can already tell there is something on your mind. I won't ask an explanation. Say, and do, as you feel so compelled. Do not let doubts cloud your mind. Do not let uncertainty drag you down. You are a strong, strapping young lad after all." She stated almost flirtingly, that pleased smile looking so very content with the beast's presence, her hand still firmly upon the handle of her blade. 

She was familiar with some of those weird wanderers. Beings that seemed to have no right being in hueco mundo. So she was not perturbed by Umaroth's presence. No....certainly not. He was here for a reason, he was here for a purpose. Something....important. She could feel it in her bones, and as he stood in that unwittingly triumphant post, one head resting upon a defeated hollow's skull, he cut the figure of some sort of monstrous conqueror. And it was this natural pose she found him taking up that piqued her interest. 

It mattered not that he might pounce upon her and try to attack. Truly she had no special feelings one way or the other so far as what happened. She had been attacked quite a lot since she had come to wander these sands, sands she had come to know over a very very long time. Sands that had both served and punished her on countless an occasion. No....she was quite pleased. This she felt was something....interesting. Something worth experiencing. She could hardly back off now. No..not now. 

Rather she actually felt her hand tighten around her blade, those elderly eyes fixed squarely upon the male as she felt almost excited, elated. His skin even from this distance looked tough. Tough enough to make cutting into him quite the challenge no doubt. Her excitement building further as she shifted in her seat to lean forward. His stance was very firm, not a waver from him, not any tremors of uncertainty. He had ...not bulk..but a thickness to him. She was curious how quickly he could move, and she braced herself in anticipation for a sudden attack. 

Reiatsu:2430/2430

SPOILER: Click to show

Strength - 50 Points (38 Points)

Speed - 115 Points (156 Points)

Spiritual Pressure - 180 Points (243 Points)

Reiatsu Strength - 140 Points (105 Points)

Light Aura - 50 Points

Dark Aura - 50 Points

Instinct - 100 Points

Senses - 70 Points

Energy sensory - 0 Points

Healing Expertise - 0 Points


Total SP: 605 Points

•[Street Fighting]: {2}

•[Analyzing]: {2}

•[Calm Mind]: {2}

•[Battle Analysis]: {2}

•[Damage Recovery]: {2}

•[Stealth]: {1}

[Deleted]

Those blue eyes of his never left the womans form. He watched as she the woman sat herself down on the dune, her own white eyes locking onto him. There was a slight disturbance in the sand when she sat down, some sort of rumbling sensation that Umaroth could feel beneath his feet. He grumbled in his throat, although not quite loud enough for the woman to hear. Sharp toed claws clacked on the mask of the Hollow his foot rested on, the reptile watching and listening as she spoke. He understood a few of the words she said, as many of them were rather simple, easy to follow for someone like him. She spoke of the Hollows destiny, of their fate, how that what they were now might not be permanent. Umaroth blinked, his head turning downwards to look at the creature he stepped on. He grumbled, removing his foot from the creatures head and walking forward a little bit.

He then noticed her smiling at him, saying something about him. How that he may very well have some sort of role to play in his own future. Umaroths head tilted a little bit, trying his best to piece the woman together. She seemed different than any other woman he had ever met...though that wasn't a very big list. The women who stood out to him was the small child back at the lake and Ajraka, both of whom were very different from each other and this white haired beauty. Looking at her...it was like looking at an elder. Some old leader of a pack. Umaroth felt that there was something more to her. Something hidden beneath the youthful face. Animalistic instincts were a nice thing sometimes.

It was then she seemed to give him consent. To do what exactly? To do whatever it was that he wanted? Whatever it was on his mind? All that Umaroth had on his mind was curiosity. He had been drawn to the smell of blood and battle, to find this woman here having defeated numerous Hollows in such a short amount of time. His simplicity was probably why he responded to Tsaj the way he did. He looked around at the battlefield, strolling amongst it in no real direction. It would seem very odd to an onlooker as Umaroth inspected each of the fallen Hollows. Any one that tried to lunge at him received a quick push with his foot into the sand, keeping them down until they had calmed down. He growled as he paced, before stopping and looking at Tsaj again.

"I have...learned that the big sand is....different from the water." He suddenly said, facing towards Tsaj as he began to say words. "Is world run by...the strong...I have seen. Hollows...or packs...must be strong...to survive." Umaroth spoke, snapping his jaws for a moment as he continued to ramble. "You are...strong, yes...yes. Umaroth, I, want to...b-bec-come strong. It why...I came to great sand from water.." There was something about her that just got the reptile talking. Ever since joining Ajrakas crew his vocabulary had developed by leaps and bounds. It was nowhere near perfect, but he was now able to communicate with others using actual sentences.

"I am...not sure I have gotten stronger. I want to know..." Umaroth spoke, his eyes locking onto Tsja with a fierce intensity. She would realize that between him and the Hollows, he was the true threat. The Hollows would be kittens compared to him if his rage was provoked. But, he did not lunge. He did not roar. He did not charge. He simply looked at her. He was getting better. In days past he would have simply charged. He would have simply attacked. Ajraka had shown him why such actions were a terrible idea. Plus, he knew nothing about this woman. So, he decided to do something that was rather different for him. "I defeat all in my pack but one...not ready to beat her...but I think I am close. I want to...fight you. You strong...you make good test for me...yes?" He was challenging her. Rather than attacking her, he was just challenging her to a fight.

His own habits, his violent nature, had caused him to receive a rather large amount of punishments from his Captain. His fingers were still rather sore from her dislocating them, then popping them back into place. It had been something Umaroth had learned the hard way, to not simply attack people without provocation. If they were endangering him? Trying to hurt him or someone he cared about? Sure. Ajrakas lessions did sink in a little, but Umaroths primal brain still demanded to answer the call of his blood. But, one thing that did stick though was challenging people. If Umaroth came across someone he wanted to fight, but they had done him no wrong, and he believed them to be strong, he should ask to fight them. If they said yes...then he could go nuts. It was a system that was, surprisingly, effective. Since then, the number of fights Umaroth started had gone down on the ship, as he learned to take no for an answer. Though he still often got into fights none the less.

But now, it was all up to Tsaj. Would she accept Umaroths challenge, his request to fight her, to test his own strength. He needed someone who could be either his equal or his superior, someone who wasn't Ajraka for him to test himself against. He needed to know how far he had come since leaving his lake. It was something he needed to do. And, if Tsja was right and Umaroth did have some sort of destiny, she could perhaps get a glance at it here from this battle. After all, the lizard did pique her interest for one reason or another.

Remaining Reiatsu: 750 / 750

[Tsajara Dread]

Purpose. Something that she all but worshiped. The concept that things had reason, that things were supposed to happen, that there was more than dumb luck to the existances that every creature in this realm clung to. There was no such thing of course. She knew that. But that was only divine purpose. A shadow, an inkling of what she herself believed in. Acquired purpose. 

in such a meaningless, or seemingly so, world it was something that she felt was even more important than some arbitrarily placed deal. To FIND purpose, to TAKE it, and make it your own. OR to even have it given to you by someone. That was something far more rare, more special, more personal. And here this young man was giving her such a thing. To test him. To put all her years of experience on the line and use every iota of mental capacity she had in order to ensure that this male before her was as strong as he thought himself. She knew he was strong physically. He all but radiated a physical dominance like some sort of stank. No, she understood that a man like him was held back by only one thing: His mind. 



She slowly rose to her feet, gently reaching up and shedding the cloak that had been around her, letting it fall to  the ground. Beneath it she had a semblance of a top. Thin bandages wrapped about her chest, covering her dignity while her pants which looked more like a shredded hakama, were what adorned her lower half. Just like her face and hair, her skin was porcelain-white. Drawing that blade before her and gently pointing it at Umaroth, a fine glow welling from that deep blade as her head canted to the side, a smile so playfully draped across her lips as to invite some sort of game. 

"Wither. Destripadora."

She whispered to the sands, that spiritual energy of hers suddenly taking visual form as that dark blue reiatsu of hers suddenly swarmed around her body, kicking up sand as it enveloped her completely, her spiritual pressure suddenly spiking to levels that even Umaroth would feel as that coccoon of energy welled around her, bursting open as suddenly the sand around them exploded, massive dark brambles the size of small buildings beginning to reach up into the air, that grove like an arena as it rose up around them, the dust vanishing from around Dread to reveal her Ressurected form. Her hair now dripping red from the ends, while those roots still remained pure and white.

That pure skin of hers had darkened considerably, leaving all but a winding frosted mark along her right side, her left side having it's own changes as her left arm at the elbow had turned into a wing, brandishing a full set of feathers, whilst those legs, now encased in a very different set of bottoms, now ended in raptor-like claws, as nod did her hand that had not so radically transformed. She looked completely different, but more importantly, she FELT completely different, as suddenly her spiritual pressure would come down on him like a hammer, forcing him to more than exert himself as her spiritual pressure felt almost like some sort of leviathan, as if rather than just some weight, an enormous hand were pressing down on him and whispering into his mind a single thought. Run

It was not a compulsion. It was not a suggestion. It was just there. Suddenly he would feel it, the idea that running was an option.  That is, if he had the strength to do so. But then he had other things to worry about as well. With her taloned hand she whipper her palm up into the air, black chains suddenly spilling out of her forearm in four lengths, spraying up and into the air around her in winding lines. If Umaroth were paying particularly close attention, he would notice that as the chains erupted from her skin, so also did feathers, the very lengths sliding into the links, weaving into them a long line of feathers so that every few links or so, a feather would be found. 

In the moments after that, she suddenly shot forward, vanishing from sight as her speed kicked up, the static sound of a sonido echoing through the air as she was suddenly rushing past him, pushing herself to step until she was just a few meters past the male. Though the move only moved her, leaving the majority of the chains behind her, wand leaving a long trail behind her, a long line of those four chains leading from her, going right past umaroth to where she had been but an instant before. And it was at that point that she YANKED, those lengths of chain suddenly retracting back into her skin, or beginning to, as a wall of brambles would erupt between her and Umaroth, leaving gaps enough for those chains to keep retracting. And quite suddenly, Umaroth would see a mass of weapons spring from the lengths that were now rushing past him Those feathers that had been laced into the links turning into long, scythes, the blades looked very much like feathers, made from long roots from which thin strands of metal came out, not very sturdy-looking. 

But then again, they didn't need to be. As the moment that those scythe blades rushed for Umaroth from those four lengths of chain, they would not stab or slice into him, but rather, if he failed to move out of the way, he would simply feel the soft pelting of his skin with the handles as those blades themselves just....passed right through him. They did not cut, they did not stab, they didn't seem to do anything at first. In fact in reality, there was only one thing they DID do. Leave behind a poison. A poison which would, immediately, begin making it's effects known, as suddenly Umaroth would feel a very familiar burning sensation ontop of the weight of her spiritual pressure. That burning sensation one received after working out for a long time. A building, encroaching pain that was a result of his cells suddenly pumping out acid . Lactic acid, a surprisingly strong stuff that would not stop being produced, and eventually would even start eating away at his muscle. 

Of course she didn't fully retract those chains. In fact, after she had surmised that any chains that wouldhave gotten too close to the lad had come close to reentering her body, she simply severed them, letting them drop to the ground where they would stay. She didn't know what abilities the young lad had, but having fought quite a lot of hollows that spat some sort of nasty fluid, she knew better than to risk taking anything exposed to the lad into her body. Of course she had a number of backup plans. For one, she surmised that he would very likely grab onto those chains and try to yank her back to him through that wall of brambles, the arena of course was already filling, every inch of that 100-meter wide thicket of brambles was being filled, blotting out the moon, and filling the new arena with darkness. IF he tried to gab onto those links, he would be surprised, as those chains upon contacting any part of him, would immediately form a band of metal around him. The weren't just chains. They were shackles. shackles that would latch onto him wherever he made contact. 


Not only that, but he would suddenly find it almost impossible to sense her location. With those brambles in the way of his line of sight, and the slow, creaking noises of the brambles as they moved around him blocking any chance of hearing him, they even gave off her insane spiritual pressure, so that heavy smothering feeling would be coming from every direction at once. This however, was not a problem for her. If even one of those scythes had hit their mark, he would already be giving off a very special scent, one that would let her know where he was. Allow her to track him.


That's what this was now. She had her beastly spiritual pressure bearing down on him, no doubt draining him of strength and making movement a chore. The brambles, those spiky vines that filled the area hiding her from him and her surprising ability to remain hidden. And then of course, there was her scythes. Those weapons that did not care how tough or thick his scales were, that simply passed right through him and would force his body to start pumping acid into his muscle and his veins, acid that would no doubt begin eating at his muscles in no time, and any exertion of his body that would pump out its own lactic acid of fatigue would only add to the stuff that was filling him.


No matter how he looked at it, he had to be careful. He would have to hunt her down, or try to escape her long enough for her ressureccion to end. He would have to try and think his way through this. There was no choice of just rampaging through. The thicket of brambles was 100 meters in diameter. And already she would be circling him, either by tracking him using his scent, or circling where he had last been. She was hunting him. She was looking for him, while at the same time evading him. She wasn't going to kill him. That's not what her ressureccion was designed to do. Not in the slightest. It was designed to wear down her foes. To make them struggle. To make them try and drag themselves through the sharp nettles and points that surrounded them. To try and force their way toward her even as her spiritual pressure commanded them to drop to their hands and knees. 


She would wear him down. She would exhaust him. And then she would claim whatever victory from him she deemed appropriate. This was to be his test. This was to be his challenge. This was to be the monolith that he was to gauge himself again. It was not strength. It was exhaustion that he fought. And she intended to do everything in her power to make him realize that strength did not always matter. That even if he made himself strong enough to break through those chains and tear his way through those sharp brambles. IT would do nothing to help him find her. It would do nothing to help him win.

-400 Reiatsu to Ressurect, -100 for Hunting Grounds Upkeep, -25 for Prey's Shackles
1905/2430

-100 Reiatsu for Sonido

Reiatsu Debt: 100


Fear The Wild is in effect.

[Deleted]

What...what just happened? One minute Umaroth had been confident. One minute Umaroth had been ready. He did not believe he would win, all he wanted was a chance to prove himself. He didn't care for the womans opinion on whether he was strong or not, all he had wanted was his own validation. So when the woman had gotten to her feet, when she had tossed aside the clothing that hid her body and pointed that sword at him...he grinned. It was rare that Umaroth smiled, his face seemed stuck in that scowl he was always seen in. But he couldn't help but feel a tad bit excited over this. A real battle. A real battle to test himself. But he had picked the wrong opponent.

An explosion would be the best way to describing what had happened next. The woman ahead of him was engulfed in her spiritual energy, wrapping around her like some glowing cocoon. Loose sand was flung everywhere as a result of her transformation, especially when the container shattered. The first thing Umaroth noticed, though, was the sudden appearance of brambles from beneath the sand. Rising up from below they were beginning to surround them, forming a sort of arena of sorts around the two. Umaroth growled, the feathers on his head having risen straight up as he returned his attention to the Arrancar whom stood before him. He released his own challenge, his roar, at her released state as he took her in.

That porcelain skin of hers had become far more darker, though some form of patterned symbol that wound its way across her right side still shared the color of her old skin. But the most dramatic changes was not her skin, rather it was what had happened to her arm and feet. A human arm that had become replaced with the wing of a bird. Umaroth wondered if she would be able to fly with that single wing, not really realizing it took two wings to fly. But this was Umaroth so the thought was there. Her feet had become those one would find on a flying raptor. But a visual change was not all that happened. No, Umaroth could feel her spiritual pressure coming down on him from above. A pressure that pushed down against him with great strength and implanting something in his mind.

Run. That's what Umaroth heard in the back of his head. The idea, the desire, the dream, the compulsion to run. Of course, though, Umaroth rejected it. He was not going to run from this. There was no way that he could, either. His pride would not allow him to run. But, regardless, he did not have the time to focus on such things. He watched as Tsaj raised her winged arm into the air, chains suddenly bursting forth from within the feather and into the air. The lizards position changed, getting into his own version of a fighting stance. Something he noticed, though, was the fact that it seemed her feathers were growing out of the chains she produced. Odd.

But suddenly she vanished, catching Umaroth off guard for a split second as she vanished from his vision with the sound of static. The sound played once again, from behind him, prompting him to turn around and see not only the newly formed line of chain but also Tsaj. Umaroth growled, his feet digging into the sand beneath him as he prepared to lunge but stopped when he saw her suddenly yank on her chains. Was she pulling them back, he asked himself, before noticing that they were literally entering their way back into her body. As the wall of brambles formed between the two, Umaroths attention had been turned towards the oncoming attack. Somehow the feathers had transformed, becoming large blades that threatened to slice him to pieces if he allowed them to. Umaroth still had some room, so he decided to leap to the side and into the sand as the scythes swung by him.

But, if he simply stopped to wait then the possibility existed that she would get away. Umaroth knew which direction the chains had been going, so he dashed in that direction. With a snarl he slammed himself right into the wall of brambles that she had thrown up moments before. Tsaj was about as fast as an animal, but Umaroth was far faster than that. Not only that, but Umaroth was a titan when it came to his physical strength. Something like brambles, which were nothing more than thorned plants, would not be able to ensnare or trap him. The branches snapped and tore as Umaroth rushed through them, aiming for the spot that Tsaj had last been at. He could feel the thorns pulling against his scales, trying to rip and tear into his body. The lizard was flexing his muscles, helping to keep the brambles from cutting too deep, but there were still light cuts forming across his body.

Small streams of blood ran down his darkened scales as he smashed his way through the brambles, only to find that Tsaj was gone. He blinked, his head turning in each direction as he tried to spot her. The chains that he had been following were cut off, simply lying amongst the moving swarm of branches that surrounded him. Lips curled back, Umaroth grit his teeth together and swung his tail suddenly, smashing away the brambles forming behind him. He was actually a little mad at this point. This wasn't a fight. This was...something different okay. A fight involved facing your enemy head on, throwing yourself against them. But no, not this.

But even then, Umaroth welcomed it. It was different. If this was how the denizens of Hueco Mundo fought it was something he was going to need to get used to. To become the strongest he needed to know how to fight against all sorts of people and abilities. But even that thought only didn't completely calm the reptiles rage. His growling continued, his rage building, as he continued to scan the brambles. Everything looked the god damned same. Fangs clenching together Umaroth wondered if he should use it. He contemplated, for a second, using what had awakened in him only a few days ago.

Tsaj might feel something within the brambles she had created. It would feel like she had awoken something, some primal and ancient beast that was ready to hunt. Within the brambles, Umaroths eyes had begun to glow. Not glow blue, but rather glow green. His body was beginning to grow hot, something was preparing to come forth from within him. But...then the feeling stopped. The heat, along with the primal feeling ceased. He took a breath, realizing that he needed to keep that a secret for now. But there was another reason. Tsajs Spiritual Pressure was still weighing on him, making movement difficult and causing Umaroth to feel a bit drained. As if he had just gotten done with a light job. He growled, trying to find Tsaj anyway he could. He could not hear her due to the brambles movement, he could not smell her due to her scent being everywhere, and he could not see her for obvious reasons.

This wasn't like fighting the crew, or Ajraka. This was something completely different. He wasn't sure his Strength would be of much use in this situation. So he needed to find a way, someway of drawing her out to him. But that went against everything Umaroth stood for and his very characteristics themselves. Laying in wait and trying to perform some sort of ambush was not the way he did things. He swung his arm, and tail, through the air to clear himself some space from the brambles...before he crouched down. If Tsaj wasn't intending to attack him, at least for now, then Umaroth had time to come up with something. Her Spiritual Pressure was still weighing down on him, but it wasn't anything he needed to really deal with just yet. He would let it weigh on him, sap the outer levels of his strength for now as he formulated his plan.

Remaining Reiatsu: 450 / 750
-300 for Fear of the Wild

[Tsajara Dread]

She didn't even feel it at first. The sensation lost amidst that first burst of movement and adrenaline as the fight had started. Swathing, surrounding, flooding the area with brambles. Of course they were small at first, and he certainly wouldn't have too big an issue going through them. But as that thicket began to fill out, then larger, thicker vines, big enough to support Dread like some massive jungle began to fill in, with barbs big enough to stab Umaroth through and through and smaller brambles wrapped around them like the barbed wire of nature. 

It wasn't until she had gone itno hiding, laying flat on her back as darkness began filling the grove. So much of that spiky stuff was up above that light just vanished, and the both of them were plunged into darkness. A familiar darkness. Her Darkness. A place she had not had in so long a time, a place that was unfamiliar and almost alien to her now. The dark... It was an oddly welcoming experience. Even as Umaroth thrashed through those thorns and briars beside her. She could conserve her energy for now. That's...what she did.

Even as he tore his way through them, through gradually thicker and thicker vines, the darkness would make him clumsy, and anger, if she managed to incite it would make him careless. And slowly, she felt it, that trickling feeling. She felt....alive. So much more alive than usual. she was passive, she knew. The fear of commitment, to make her way into Las Noches to see if she could fit in. But even more than that she just didn't feel at home, but then again, was that even what she wanted? The sounds of him struggling, bringing a slow smile to her lips as her eyes drifted closed, not needing them at this point. She slowly rose to her hands and feet, climbing up into the brambles as that rustling continued to fill the air.

They were always moving, snapping, scraping, clicking, the air was just full of their motion, masking any subtle sounds that she made as she crept in slow circles around him. Listening. Waiting. Sensing. Enjoying the sounds of pain. Waiting for those moments when he would bump into or even stick himself on one of those larger, more dangerous thorns. She pictured in her mind the blood that would seep from him, her mind focused as those thorns, now that the ability was in full swing, no longer were little prickly things, but the size of curved daggers wrapped in those barbed vines. 

She stayed hidden, relishing for the time being, as seconds ticked into minutes. And minutes began slowly filling in even larger segments of time. She watched, waited, as all the while her spiritual pressure pressed down on him like stone, those chains being absorbed back into her body at this point. A brief....moment of paranoia. Of Excitement. But found nothing on them. No poisons or the like. Perhaps he really was just a beast after all. She curled her fingers a little and opened her eyes, slowly beginning to focus as she watched him.

She waited, moving in a bit closer, keeping that stealthy sleuth about her as she moved, fixed on the noises he made as she waited. She waited and listened, listened for the tell-tale sound of him hitting one of those particularly large thorns before she would make her move. The Brambles would suddenly shift, filling the air with noise and motion from all directions to hide her as she moved her wing in and suddenly her feathers suddenly shifted, just like the ones she had manipulated on that chain, her wing was suddenly a bristling limb chock full of scythes as she swiped at the lizard's chest from behind. Those scythes would go clean through him, but without actually physically touching him, leaving only that venom behind, he wouldn't even feel it. 

Without letting light in, she couldn't really aim especially well. She had not used it in so long, she had all but lost her ability to sense spiritual bodies outside of her normal senses. But she made a guess given his height and how he was moving. She was aiming for his chest. Where lungs, his heart, his stomach. All those lovely, important muscles. She aimed to swipe those intangible blades through, aiming to give those muscles a healthy dose of her poison. 

Of course, this would have a very intended effect. With the chest as the target, there would be more than just burning and muscle-eating acid. The muscle lining his lungs, his stomach, his intestines, and the entirety of his heart, would begin pumping that stuff out, eating little holes in them, and ontop of simply tring him and subjecting him to pain she suddenly...realized. Realized something that surprised her, caught her off guard, and really even as she darted back after the swipe to once more melt into the beast clan's surroundings, it hit her. 

She was enjoying this. For the first time in forever, she felt happy, excited. It wasn't just a thrill, she was actually enjoying her assault on this lizard. She wouldn't kill him. no, she wasn't THAT  excited. But giving him a heart attack and some perforated organs was nothing she was too stuck up on. Why had she been avoiding fighting for all these years? Why had she taken such time and effot to avoid conflict when this felt so fucking good? 

She knew it, she was dull, weak. even her ressureccion was trusty, a shadow of what it once was. And for some reason that angered her. She wanted to shake the dust from herself. Even at her own peril, wasn't this.....this feeling. Even if she was maimed. Even if she was mutilated. Even if everything she feared came to fruition. Wasn't this feeling better than being alone? Wasn't this sensation worth breaking free of her aversion to being around others? 

She felt sick. Even if she was winning, even if this Poor Brute had less time left standing on his feet than one might think, even if she was not even receiving a scratch in trade for the attacks she made on him, it wasn't good enough. She could be doing better. She could be enjoying this more. More...she could be so much MORE. And the thought actually ruffled her feathers. Angry and happy at the same tim as she listened and waited to see if her attack had succeeded. If it did, then no doubt he would soon be making some strangled screaming noises very soon. 

The mental math did itself. If she'd hit, his lungs would begin seizing up, as well as everything else she'd hit. The burning would settle in, and he would, probably, start being a lot less careful, flailing, struggling, slashing himself on those curled daggers, impaling himself on those wicked sword-sized thorns, tearing himself to pieces against her briars and definitely, make enough noise to alert her as to his predicament, and if nothing came it would be very simple to simply start anew and try again. 

Slowly, she let a smile creep it's way across her lips, anticipation settling like a slow warmth into her muscles, into her bones, into every fiber of herself as she waited for those noises. She was in total darkness, a bit of hay in a needle stack. She could allow herself to so indulge in the moment, to all but shudder at this new, or rather very old and nostalgic heaven that had begun to sink into her brain and brew within the deeper reaches of her mind. 

She braced herself, knowing that even if she'd failed, the sudden motion might cause him to start flailing around to try and see if she was close by. She needed to focus, even if she did take a little bit of time indulging, she still couldn't lose that rusty edge of hers. Even if he had little chance to actually sense her, she couldn't let him run into her from blind luck. He had asked her to test him, and what sort of test would it be if she let herself be swatted by a random swing of the arm? That would be....unacceptable.

-100 for Hunting Grounds Upkeep
1805/2430

Reiatsu Debt: 100

Fear The Wild is in effect.

[Deleted]

Cinematic Defeat Post

Was nothing different? Had Umaroth truly not changed at all? Why was he receiving visions of déjà right now? As the brambles encircled him, growing thicker and sharper, and the light was being stolen away by their mass, Umaroth was getting brief glimpses into his history. The scene of his lake from beneath the surface was presented towards him. He could feel the cool water against his scales, he remembered the sounds from that day and even the taste of the fish he had eaten before. But he wasn't along in his world. Another figure was sharing the water with him. A figure some distance away, similar in shape but different in so many ways. The same day that Umaroth tasted defeat and humiliation. The day he had been torn away from the lake he had called his home. And for what?

In hope that he had changed.

His jaw clamped itself together as his anger began to over take him. He cursed himself mentally, a few of the words slipping out of his mouth as a result. Had he not changed at all? Was he still this weak? Umaroth had left with Ajraka on the promise of finding power, of becoming stronger than he was before. Was...there really no progress made at all? Here he was, in another scenario just like that day many weeks ago. Was...following Ajraka a mistake? Sure, his time with her had expanded both his mind and his vocabulary...but so was simply spending time listening to the young human girl on the shore. Had it been pointless?

Clenching his fists together he lashed out, striking out and against the growing briars with a combination of growls and snarls. He could feel that they had become larger, that they had become thicker. They required much more effort than before to smash through now. His tail, his arms, each was a weapon he used to smash away with the power of his rage. Even if sharpened, even when they cut through his body, sliced through his tail and arms he kept fighting. He was angry. Angry at everything. Angry that the woman had chosen to fight like this. Angry that he had trusted Ajraka. Angry at himself. The rage he was building was aimed at himself. Why had he been so stupid? He couldn't even feel the pain he was so wrapped up in his head.

He failed to even notice his opponent's approach, so preoccupied with his rampage that he had dulled his own senses considerably. If he was under control, his feral mind stable, he could have sensed her. His own senses would have allowed him to detect her. He would have been able to detect her stronger scent amongst the brambles, he would have actually been able to see her if his vision was not clouded by red. He had lived many years at the bottom of the lake, were darkness had become his friend. Blackness like this had already been experienced and adapted to. But he couldn't. He was blinded by his rampage, becoming nothing more than a feral beast who knew only rage.

Darkened scales became covered in the red blood that escaped from the cuts in his body. His breathing was sharp, and ragged, having been sliced through by the intangible and unseen blades that Dread produced from her body. His breathing began to hurt, so much so that he couldn't help but place a clawed hand atop his chest in response. The pain was helping, actually, to bring him back to reality. The reality that was this overwhelming situation. He could feel it. His legs beginning to tremble, the energy being sucked out of him at an astonishing rate. Gritting his teeth he let out a sudden roar straight upwards to the moon lit sky, before collapsing.

His legs buckled beneath him, sending him down and digging his knees into the sand below. Dread was watching, no doubt, and his sudden collapse would fill her in on what happened. Was he done? Waves of pain that even he could barely handle were sent through his body, a result of being sliced through by Tsaj's scythes. His body covered in cuts and scrapes, blood leaking from his body that the sand had turned red. But despite the injuries he had suffered, what had been damaged most was his pride. Damaged in a way far more than it had been when he met Ajraka. He had been foolish, swallowed in by the power she promised him. Swallowed in by the chance at companionship, at being in a pack. Yet, such things were...not for him.

It was no secret he fought with the crew. He was distant with them, unfriendly, never truly trying to come to terms with them. This was something the crew and the Captain knew. The mere thought of the otter released a growl from within Umaroths body, showing that he was still conscious if even just barely. He had made the wrong choice. He had wanted to believe that he had found his place in her crew. That he had found the place were he truly belonged. But, Ajrakas crew was not the place for him. He gained nothing he couldn't have acquired on his own. He was no different now than when he lived in the lake. He was still nothing.

Listen here.

And that thought pushed him over the edge. His mind became swallowed once again by his rage. His vision turning red as those bright blue eyes widened, the feathers along his head bouncing right back up. His body tensed up, squirting out freshly squeezed blood into the air. If Tsaj hadn't reached out to touch him, to make sure he was still alive, then what happened next could have been avoided. At the instant she touched him; he recognized the sensation as something different. It was something soft, not sharpened and rough like the brambles before. The reptile spun with a deafening roar, swiping his hand forward and grasping Tsaj firmly by her face.

Coming to his feet in one solid motion, Umaroth lifted the Arrancar into the air with a swing, before bringing her down to meet the sand below. Slamming her into the earth he was quickly upon her, straddling atop her and keeping that hand planted firmly onto her face. If Tsaj tried to escape, to remove her face from his grasp, she would find it impossible. While he lacked the strength to cause any long lasting or permanent damage to her in his exhausted strength, he still had more than enough strength to keep her held down. But, was Umaroth even truly aware of what was going on? The Arrancar would notice it immediately; that his eyes were not the same color. The bright and beautiful blue in his eyes were gone, replaced by a brightly glowing green color. From somewhere inside him, brought forth by the rage, he released some sort of untapped strength. The true potential of power hidden inside him, in fact. The roar he produced was deafening, muting the brambles around them and even possessing enough force somehow to press against Tsajs skin. The roars force blew back large quantities of sand, even distorting the vision between them.

I will...

I will not...

What was Umaroth so mad about? It was not, in fact, the Arrancar beneath him who drove him to such rage. It was the rage he felt for being foolish enough to follow another. If Umaroth wanted power. If Umaroth wanted pride. If Umaroth wanted ANYTHING he must acquire it himself. Alone. With no leader. He must bow to nobody. He must become a Conqueror. Amidst his roaring, Tsaj would see the reptile bring back his right arm. Covered in gashes one would assume it shouldn't even be possible to much something so injured. But, Umaroth did. And Umaroth did so much more than move it.

Something changed then. There was a light from within Umaroths body, like something from within him suddenly being let free. Being so close, Tsaj would feel it. She would experience the sensation of bearing witness to the concept of "Primal" being released right in front of her. A green aura surrounded Umaroth, especially around his brought back right hand. There was a sudden snapping sound, similar to that of bones being shifted and moved. His arm began to change, a mass growing right out of Umaroths arm. His hand became covered in this "hammer" like protrusion, as the muscles beneath his scales buldged and pressed against the surface. There were other changes as well; his body changing in response to whatever it was that had been released within him.

I WILL NEVER BOW AGAIN!!

Stop Music

And he swung. That hammer fist coming down right towards Tsajs face even with his own hand in the way. But then...it stopped. The roar. The punch. The transformation. It all stopped suddenly. Like somebody turning off a light switch. His fist hung over her head, steam rising up off his body as he simply...looked at her. His eyes returned to normal, yet their gaze different. A...tired gaze, perhaps? "No more..." He suddenly said, his voice breaking the silence as he began to lean to one side. "No....more..." He managed to get out, just before collapsing into the sand. One leg, and his tail, remained laying across her...but she would easily be able to move. All the energy, all the rage, all the fight was...gone. Her abilities played a part in it, a huge part actually, but it had also been his unwillingness to continue anymore. He had no more reiatsu, his body was bleeding, and his insides were on fire. No more. He just wanted...to sleep. But he kept his eyes open, albeit barely, just to watch. If Tsaj chose to kill him he wanted to watch. He wanted to see her do it, not pass out to never awaken. He wanted to know if he was going to die. So he laid there, his body unmoving aside from his pained breathing, waiting.

Remaining Reiatsu: 0 / 750

[Katekarin Mekatoku]

350 TP to Umaroth
360 TP to Tsaj + 100 for Victory = 460