The Bug and the Zapper (PvP, DP, R)

[MrDoctorDo]

Name: The Bug and the Zapper

Participants: Himitsu Misute and Mika

Death Setting: Damage Permanent

Location: Rukongai, an abandoned tavern several stories in height and filled with dozens of gutted rooms.

Circumstances: In the recent weeks, the Sixth Division has come under attack within the Seireitei. The form of attack, being cyber. An assailant, of yet unknown identity, as tried repeatedly to crack the security used by the Archive Squad. However, progress has been made in determining that identity. Members of the Division’s counter operations have worked hard to trace the origins of the attacks. Their efforts...have proven successful. The source of the “hacks” being isolated to a now derelict inn, ”Sleeping Mountain”. It was then decided that someone be sent to investigate the location, and possibly, apprehend the culprit there. None other than the Vice Captain was chosen for the assignment. Would he have everything it takes to bring in the perpetrator who awaited him in the far reaches of the Rukongai?

Special Conditions: Given the threat to civilian population, Himitsu Misute is encouraged to keep any hostilities within the premises of ”Sleeping Mountain”...while all necessary force is granted should he be forced to chase his target beyond the designated locale.

[MrDoctorDo]

It had been weeks now...since the first attack began. Back when it first began, the Sixth Division’s network team didn’t even realize it was and attack. What was examined by the appropriate stewards was a string of strange logins. Members of the division trying to access the system after regular work hours. These first few incidents were documented, but shrugged off as insubstantial. It wasn’t until these occurrences began happening daily that any real concern rose. When the matter received actual investigation...a much deeper pattern was revealed.

It was not only strange that all of these individuals were accessing the network at inappropriate times...but it would seem they were accessing inappropriate systems, as well. The logs were catalogued and reviewed, and revealed that dozens of employees had attempted and often failed at accessing dozens of databases. Whenever successful; the individuals seemed to seek out relating records and data. The searches being made were very specific, and very intentional. It was clear that sound had been using the identity of dozens squad members to access vast amounts of secure information. By now a few weeks had passed, but the culprit’s activities were completely outlined and recorded.

From every file accessed, to every identity used to access said files. From here...one might expect the walls to be raised. The employees alerted. Security doubled and reset. Observation raised to paranoid levels. However, this was not the case. The Sixth Division was full of clever staff, after all. Individuals who know how best to utilize threats...rather than fight them. So instead of alarms beings raised, the security remained quiet. They watched instead of shout. They baited instead of deny. The wardens gave the thief every reason to try and trespass in their territory again. Then, when the day finally came...they sprung their trap. They traced the routes by which the threat entered. They followed it home.

The order came down from leadership. Not so plain and simple as, eliminate the threat. No no no. Instead, those in charge had further plans. More devious in nature and function. Locate and Detain the Threat(s). It wasn’t satisfactory enough to just remove the danger. Just as with their digital response; those in power wanted to examine the culprit(s). To figure out everything about them. Who they were. Where they came from. What motivated them. What they wanted. To learn anything that they could about the choices which lead to the attacks they received. To better understand the enemy...so as to crush them better in the future. After all, it is through confrontations such as these that defenses prosper. Through infection that resistance is formed. Through this bug, they would build a zapper. An improvement on their system so that it might not fall prey again. Not in the same way. So, again, this would require a capture. They would need their adversaries alive, and well enough to interrogate.

Which meant they needed skill. Sending a team of the rank and file wasn’t going to work. That sort of action would be noticeable. Such a move would scare their prey, and possibly result in its loss. No, the response would need to be more subtle. Not a team, but a single operative. One with talent and abilities to spare. Someone with an impeccable record, who would not...could not fail. Thus, Himitsu Misute. A character within the Squad without repute. Not only its Vice Captain, but also an impeccable agent. There was no doubt that Misute-san could handle the likes of a hacker. Even if the enemy put up a fight. Though no one expected such a struggle to be possible.

What really made Misute perfect for the assignment, was his willingness to follow orders. The mission would be completed, as instructed, to perfection. Also...someone as strong and powerful as the Vice Captain would have zero issue with hauling in the catch. Even if that meant dragging a body all the way from the outer Rukongai! So the order was sent out. Via Hell Butterfly, as per procedure. Contained within the spiritual beast’s message, was explicit orders to be swift and discreet. To find the Sleeping Mountain inn, and apprehend whomever might be occupying its empty rooms. To bring them back to the Division Barracks, alive. To not discuss the mission with anyone, due to its sensitivity. To understand that he could not fail, lest the Squad’s security remain at risk. That every confidence was with him. That he would succeed.

The Vice Captain would find that the tavern in question was not hard to miss. Deep into the Western Rukongai, located between the 54th and 55th districts. The structure itself...quite prominent. The buildings around it were rarely very grand. None of them large, or eye catching. So when his eyes locked onto a monolith stretching dozens of stories above all of its neighbors; he would know his destination. Given the great size of the outer district, he would have a few hours of walking to take in all the details of the structure. How it mirrored the barracks and castles within the Seireitei.

Tiered floors reaching high into the sky. In many ways, with its white walls and slowing roofs...the inn actually looked like a small mountain. Outstanding that such a place could be abandoned, as his report had claimed. It would seem that there was less and less need of such a thing in recent decades. The world of the living becoming a place with less and less death, with each passing generation. Now it stood only as a monument to the past. Of times when the world of the living was in such turmoil, that residents of the Soul Society’s numbered beyond the counting. Perhaps it was a good thing that it was hollow now? That instead of bustling halls of unfortunate dead, it housed only a computer-savvy hoodlum. Ah, the times...they were a changin’...

Whenever and however the officer might arrive, Misute-san would find the exterior quite dull. There were no stirrings at the once glorious gate. No one came or went from the tremendous building. In fact, none of the souls who lived in this area seemed to give the building the time of day. Walking past it without a glance. No one looking up at its height with awe. A somber reality, really. One he would not have too long to take in. For soon after he found his way to the entrance of this complex; Himitsu would sense that he was not alone. Two presences made themselves known from the shadows of nearby alley ways.

Two figures dressed as commonly as any other vagrant who might frequent that alleway. ”Pst…”, one of them called. Giving a hand signal that acted as a code between Squad 6 operatives. A signal which only Misute could interpret as meaningful. A call for him to join them. A call that would be answered, whether he walked closer or not. For they knew exactly who he was...without the need of confirmation. Such were the perks of being the notoriously big VC. As such, the two strangers would step bravely from the shadows and approach their commander. Waiting until they were comfortably close before speaking. In confidentiality.

”Good afternoon. This Shironabe, and I am Toma.” The other giving a little nod. ”The inn has been inactive all day. No one in, and no one out.” The second nodding in agreement. ”Locals say that there hasn’t been anyone in the tavern in years. Nor any light or sounds coming from inside. However…” What the two informants were about to share was irrelevant for the likes of Misute. For while now he would have felt it. A spiritual pressure than seemed to be pushing outwards from the inn’s direction. A force that was quite strong. Well more than an unseated pair of Shinigami such as these two could produce. ”There is undoubtedly someone inside.”

Now. This is where the finely tuned, analytical skills would come in handy. With the general survey out of the way, Himitsu could look more closely to uncover a few truths about the location. Firstly, that almost every floor of the building was lit...spiritually speaking. With dense pockets of reishi being scattered throughout each section. Whoever was established here...was well established. The entire facility seemed to be a well nestled nest. Though it all seemed very, spiritually active...there was one problem. There did not seem to be a core. No discernible epicenter. It was a buzzing hive of activity.

If there were insects crawling about inside...they were well concealed within the sheer volume of spiritual activity. ”We haven’t been able to isolate their position within. It seems the entire inn is theirs.” As much was blatantly apparent. Even with the enhanced abilities of their superior, there was still interference. The most distressing flaw in external examination? The signature...the identity of the pressure. According to whatever sensory readings might be employed, all of the pressure belong to one source. One person. Despite being spread as it were. Filling every nook and cranny of the expansive complex. Just how could that be possible? Could equipment be used to produce such a strange reading? Machines? Gigai, perhaps?

It seemed the situation would require a more dedicated, by sight, search. Something that the Vice Captain was better suited for than most any other member of his Division. ”Sorry we cannot be of more help, sir.” The both of them dipped their heads. ”We have, however, been ordered to remain within the area. Should any need of us arise.” Turning to take their leave, ”Good luck to you.” From there the duo slipped back off into the shadows. Fading into the district scenery as they were trained to do. Leaving Misute-san with the pleasure of strolling in for himself. On his own terms, and at his own speed of course. There were a variety of windows and balconies on this building. Should he choose not to enter through the primary gate. However...at this point in time; what reward was there in trying to be sneaky?

In the end, should Himitsu choose the primary gate as his egress of choice, he would find no opposition. The large front doors left agape. Light from the evening sun shining warmly into the dark, seclusive pit within. Fading fast into the dense shadows. These shadows kept the details and layout of the bottom floor a mystery. For the moment. All he could see was the sturdy wooden floor on which the sun’s light fell directly. Well crafted boards that did not creak under his steps. Polished clean. That was it. Other than this one sliver, he was alone in void. Yet, there was no ominous chill. No foreboding signs of sensations. Just an empty great hall. With every step towards the inn he would find the pressure stronger. Nothing immense or oppressive, but not dismissable.

What he would notice first as he moved into the central cavity of the massive structure...were gentle sounds. Grating noises. Repetitive and dispersed all around him. Loud enough to be heard over the whirling of a light breeze outside. Still, quite soft. It would take time to identify just what these sounds were. Some of them grew as he walked further, other became more quiet. No matter where he might turn to look, he would not find anything visible. Standing in the glare that shot through the open doors, on every side surrounded by the dark. The transition for his eyes was going to take a moment. Longer than normal, given the surroundings. In those final moments of adjustment; however, Misute would notice one group of the mysterious sounds becoming increasingly prominent. Louder yes, but much more clear as well. In a moment’s time he would recognize exactly what was making the strange...sweeping clamour. Behind him he would sense movement. Sudden, and swiftly approaching! Turning quickly would reveal…

Brooms. Ordinary. Wooden. Quite weathered. Brooms. Sweeping the floor on which he had just been stepping. Scattering the small bits of debris he had brought in from the street. Trying desperately to keep up with his tremendous stride, and stopping once they reached his feet. Nothing at all out of the ordinary...except for how utterly bizarre they were! They stood on their own. Swept on their own. There was no one there to hold them. To use them. Alas, they swept across the floor with vigor. They moved with skill and flow. It was as if they had life to them. Character even. Just what would Misute make of that? Mmm. Whatever it was, it was for him to wrestle with alone. The tools did not seem to have any more time to spare for him.

For once they caught up to the man, they continued on their way. Repeating their work and effort off into the now lessening dark. Following the pair of brooms would have Himitsu’s eyes finally shift to better suit the lighting within those walls. or, lack thereof. Now...he could begin to make out his surroundings. To either side he saw large lounges and extensive seating areas. Dining tables and booths lined the walls; while cushions and coffee tables filled in the distance between. There was room for quite a great party here, that much was apparent. Amid the ample seating were large four large stair cases all ascending to the floors above. Still sturdy and strong as the olden days of business. Ah, but there was much more to see.

Ahead of him, an even more spectacular display. A massive bar that occupied the entirety of the room’s rear. Behind the stool laden stretch of counter, was a large stage. One fit for theater...adorned at its center by a massive stature. A faded idol that represented some kami or another, making the entire arrangement appear as an elaborate, decorative Shinto shrine. In its hayday...what a glory it must have been to see. Now, it was nothing more than a memory in the dark. Thus, the cruelty of the scene Misute saw playing out in said memory. His eyes finally able to observe the motions of countless other shifting figures. Countless other objects, whom like the brooms before, seemed to perform their tasks autonomously. A myriad of inanimate things...reenacting the memories of this tomb.

At the bar, and many of the tables. There were dozens and dozens of bottles, glasses, and teacups. All of them appearing as bland and normal as any other kitchenware...yet all of them seemingly sentient. They moved in constant, cycling patterns. The bottles tipping as if to pour, yet with no contents inside. The glasses and teacups raising into the air. Pouring their empty selves into lips that were not there. Ah, but it did not stop with just the drinking. There were rags wiping down the counters and tables. More brooms and mops circling the floors and wiping them dryly. All around him, it was as if this place had never ceased. Everything that would have carried on before...continued still.

A feat that became that much more impressive when he finally reached the very center of this odd panorama. For that is when the stage came to life. The clicking of instruments. Then tension of strings. The beginning of a song. One that acknowledged his presence in the room to all the objects that carried on with their repetitious behaviors. Alerting them all to the presence of an outside. Something that did not fit in with their performance. A guest...but not an entirely welcome one. And with this new song and signal, Himitsu’s well-honed danger sense would trigger. From behind him a chair would come sailing through the air. Hurled by some invisible force. Hoping to crash upon his head. Possessing no notion whatsoever...at how fierce he could be.

Misute-san would make light work of that chair. And the next. And the next. He might even find it comical when floor cushions started throwing themselves at him. Even when allowed to get past his defenses, they simply boof off of him with a gentle pat. What would give him the most fun, perhaps, were the brooms! While the chairs flew haphazardly through the air all around, being joined by a cadre of flying glasses and ceramic cups...bar stools, dishrags, and eating utensils; the broom pairs would swipe with actual prowess. Sweeping at his feet constantly. Interrupting the sweeping pattern by planting their coarse bristles deep into the wooden floor, and swinging their handles in very wide, circular...easily predictable strikes. Though they were more amusing, they were in no way a threat. Neither was anything else in this musical brawl. It would take no time for the objects to expend themselves or be defeated by Himitsu. Leaving him alone in the emptied room...with nothing but the continuing music to keep him company.

Well that, and...”You mustn’t blame them.”, the new arrival. A soul much like himself. Standing dozens of feet ahead of the Misute-san. Positioned between himself and the massive, now empty bar. Someone with at least noteworthy spiritual pressure. One whose life force blended in flawlessly with the energy signature that Himitsu had identified within this place. The person he was most likely sent here to apprehend. A scrawny looking fellow. One who stayed decently far away. Who stood rather hunched and reserved. Dark clothes and skin helping to blend him and his features into the shadows that still loomed within the hall. ”They are quite disapproving of strangers...but it is their nature.” While he spoke very happily, there was no mistaking the subtle notes of concern. Whoever this small fellow was, he was a little worried to ask, ”Who are you, exactly?...”

SPOILER: Click to show

{Mika's Stats}
Strength - 50 Points (100 Originally)

Speed - 50 Points (100 Originally)

Spiritual Pressure - 300 Points

Reiatsu Strength - 100 Points

Light Aura - 50 Points

Dark Aura - 50 Points

Instinct - 150 Points (100 Originally)

Senses - 150 Points (100 Originally)

Energy sensory - 100 Points

Healing Expertise - 1200 Points (400 Originally)

Total SP: 1300 Points

SPOILER: Click to show

{Mika's Skills}
Analyzing - 2: It is believed that the greatest portion of Science is observation. Mika doesn't contest such a claim.

Bleeding Tolerance - 2: There is one thing that self-experimentation and being a d*ck will get you...boo boos. Mika has a long and loving career of butt whuppin' behind him. The result, he has learned how to take the punches and swallow the blood.

Computers and Hacking - 2: Thanks to the immensity of variables which affect biology, and the fact that there are more codons in Spiritual DNA than there are stars, computers play a big role in Mika's work. Sometimes, other people's computers have to play a role.

Crafting and Engineering - 2: With tools frequently damaged through the course of experimentation, Mika learned to keep things working or replaced. It should be no additional surprise that Mika focuses on Biotechnologies.

Damage Recovery - 2: Pain is experience. Poison is tolerance. Sickness is immunity. Rather than try to prevent the maladies of the world, Mika just survives them.

Mental Skill: Spiritual Biology - 2: The defining pursuit of Mika's lifelong study. Spiritual Biology provides intimate knowledge of all, possible biological information of spiritual beings. For each point, a new category of spiritual being becomes understood.
1 - Humans and Human-like beings; Arrancar, Bount, Failures, Fullbringers, Quincy, Shinigami
2 - Inhuman beings; Akki, Beastmen, Hanson, Hollows, Mod Souls, Saika
3 - Abstract Constructs; Blanks, Inner Hollows, Sword Beasts, Zanpakuto Spirits

[Himitsu Kasumi'Oji]

(( OOC: Computer decided to shut down mid-post, losing it all This post doesn’t have the nearly same length and quality, but I hope it’ll suffice. ))

Himitsu had known about the cyber invader for quite some time now. He also knew about the magnitude of the situation. All those files and information stored in Squad 6 were extremely valuable. Even Himitsu, the Lieutenant of the Sixth Division, only had limited access to that information. Imagine what people could do with some of those secrets. And if they got into Las Noches’s hands… it could really hurt Soul Society. From the moment that Himitsu was informed of the crisis, he directed all of his effort toward finding and defeating the culprit.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the skillset to help. Computers weren’t really his forte, so he ended up making regular runs to the human world to fight off more significant hollow threats. It was mostly a way for him to relieve his frustration and keep busy, though Soul Society always needed extra assistance in keeping the human world safe. He was happy to do his job as he waited to be of use to his own division. When news of the hacker’s location reached him, the Vice Captain was thrilled. He immediately followed up with the small group sent to examine the target’s location before Himitsu launched the main assault.

As Himitsu neared the designated address, it became clear that the massive structure standing like a giant over the miniature buildings in the Rukongai was were the hacker set up camp. It resembled the old-fashioned Japanese-style architecture that made up the buildings in Seireitei. The Sleeping Giant. It might have been a very popular tavern in its prime, but now, few had much of a use for it. Fortunately, the building was empty. It gave Himitsu more freedom when he didn’t have any civilians to worry about.

“Psst,” a man called from a nearby alley as Himitsu was almost upon the tavern. It was two men actually. Both identified themselves as squad 6 members with their silent hand signal. Himitsu needed no introduction. After all, his Vice Captain badge and Squad 6 emblem on his Shinigami uniform said it all. Furthermore, the white sash and garments were replaced with a sapphire blue version, distinguishing him further. The men, Shironabe and Toma, explained the situation. Despite no signs of life to average folk, there was a distinct and uniform reiatsu signature pulsing throughout the building. That reiatsu came from one person. There was still a possibility that he had partners in crime who were hiding their reiatsu. In addition, the reiatsu flowing through the building made it too risky for Himitsu to simply take the front door. He didn’t want the criminal to control the playing field, for they had no gage on how powerful he was yet.

And so Himitsu took another approach. He used Spiritual Pulse, a technique that sent out an impulse visible to only those with 50 energy sensory and above, scanning everything with reiatsu running through it. That meant people and objects too. Himitsu would become aware of all of the enemy’s gadgets and goodies. Best of all, it also exposed the man’s position. The Lieutenant’s target seemed to be on the lower floors of the tavern, surrounded by his equipment everywhere. No, that woulnd’t do. It was far too dangerous. Himitsu needed to draw him out.

And he most definitely had a method for doing so. He stood about fifty meters from the tavern and pointed his right palm upward, toward the uppermost levels. Reiatsu coursed through his body and gathered into his hand as he spoke. “Sprinkled on the bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind, stop and become the calm. The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle. Hado #63: Raikoho.” A blast of lightning the size of a freight train show up, vaporizing the top floors of the Sleeping Giant.

The crackling lightning and roar of thunder would undoubtedly get the target’s attention. He’d undoubtedly sense the lightning over his head, even if he didn’t have any refined skill in energy sensory. Such a burst of reiatsu was impossible to ignore. “This is Himitsu Misute, Vice Captain of Squad 6. Come out unarmed with your hands raised above your head or you’ll end up like the top of this building.” The Vice Captain hoped that his display of strength was enough to prevent a fight from breaking out, though a feeling in his gut told him otherwise. But what occupied his mind most at that moment was how he undeniable sounded like a cop.

Raikoho RS: 875

SPOILER: Click to show

Strength - [100] Points (60)

Speed - [300] Points

Spiritual Pressure - [300] Points

Reiatsu Strength - [400] Points (700)

Light Aura - [90] Points

Dark Aura - [10] Points

Instinct - [100] Points

Senses - [150] Points

Energy sensory - [50] Points

Healing Expertise - [0] Points

Total SP: [1400] Points

Abilities

• Mental Incantation Level 3

• Weapon: Staff Level 3

• Battle Analysis Level 3

• Battle Skill: Kido Level 3

• Strength of Will Level 3

[Zeich Yajuu]

Honestly, given that this didn't even really get past the introduction posts, I don't think I can award TP for this. We had a single building demolition, and that's it. Sorry.

[Himitsu Kasumi'Oji]

Fair, thanks

[MrDoctorDo]

Oh bother…

It would seem that the Vice Captain was in no mood to risk a good time. No matter what might have awaited him within the desolate halls of the empty monolith; none of it was worth investigating. The very courageous, and equally impulsive, second was not here as a sleuth. There were no questions he saw fit to ask. No answers he considered worth seeking. In total disregard of whatever orders of caution or restraint that may have been given. In defiance of any plea that he, “recover what was stolen”.

No. Misute-san was here to bring justice. To find a culprit, and see him capture. Or worse. How unsatisfying to the host that would have been. For Mika had much anticipated a guest. He had been expecting one for quite some time. Knowing it was all be inevitable. So, in turn, the scientist had prepared to receive. Sadly. The only company he would find was...thundering destruction. A bolt conjured from nothing. Crashing down onto his home with the force of an angry deity. Not one of storms, but of death.

In the moments preceding the strike of lightning, the air became...electric. The clouds darkened as the Officer utter his speech. The wind rose and howled through the streets. The tension that had built in the moments of gathering magic, now released in the same violent burst that produced the bolt of energy. The magic struck its mark. The top of the once magnificent hotel splitting like lumber under the ax. Though...not without added consequence. For Misute-san would see quite the brilliant display.

First, his summoned lightning raining down from the sky unto the buildings roof. Then, before the coming wake of devastation, lights flourishing like the falling of a thousand stars. The spell’s power striking a network of circuits and wires. The unbridled force of the magic causing the external lights to shine with life before exploding into ruin. A spectacle of glrowing neon signs and blinding exterior fixtures that had not seen proper use in decades. Showing off their every color. Varying shades of: [smear:dc143c]reds[/smear:ee00ee], [smear:0000ee]blues[/smear:4eee94], and [smear:ffff00]yellows[/smear:ff8000]. Looking like fireworks at a summer festival! With all the echoing booms to match.

The reaction was quite the long, and dramatic chain. What began as exploding lights, quickly turned into exploding walls. The energy fed through the bones of the building and transformed the Sleeping Mountain into Belligerent Volcano. The paper walls and dry wood that had comprised the tower, now kindling for the bonfire. Empty pockets of air that had remained sealed for years, suddenly torn open with volatile burst.

Roaring with loud explosions and fresh flames. All of the heat and catastrophe working its way down through the levels. Burning as the mighty fuse it had become...until finally reaching the black powder. Mika’s lab. Hidden deep in the belly. Filled to the brim with an extensive selection of instruments, devices, and facilities. All either borrowed or improvised. Most teeming with the sort of potential energy that only the mad would feel safe keeping around. Thus…

The western Rukongai fell silent. Silent. Yes. Silenced by the coming of a great noise. Wind tearing and smothering everything in its path. A tsunami had risen, not from the sea, but from the earth. A bellowing fountain of air and pressure that swept through streets and alleyways like flood waters. Everywhere dust rose and swallowed those unfortunate to be outside. Pulling those who stood from their feet, and depositing them on the ground with those who had been sitting all along.

A blastwave that shook households, uprooted trees, and scared the mother-lovin life out of every cat and dog in a dozen ri. Those unprotected would suffer quite the ringing in their ears, or possibly even a concussion. Those staring at the event would find their eyes adjusting in mere moments. Thankfully, the force was not of weaponized calibre. While it had been quite the impressive firework, none should be losing their lives from it. Certainly no one would be forgetting the day that Ajisuke-Takahikone FELL down the stairs. Least of all would be the brother of lightning bolts, Misute himself. Who with his front row seat, could marvel at the boom he managed to orchestrate. Perhaps even with a noticeable amount of pride?

As for Mika. Well…

In the moments following the eruption of Sleeping Mountain, smoke and debris would finally start returning to earth. Soot raining down like blackened snowflakes. Burning splinters of wood falling like hail. Mixed with them were much large objects, that descended more like meteorites.Chunks of equipment and burning metal crashing into the surrounding neighborhood. Pummeling the open streets and smashing through thatched roofs everywhere. These projectiles bring with them the utmost misfortune to the spirits who resided in this district.

Hell, even the foreigner Misute was to suffer an ill omen from one of these many accidental missiles. For one of them came barreling downwards towards the open road in which he stood. Impacting no more than a few feet from his massive figure. Producing a minor crater in front of him. Just large enough to break and swallow the dirt and stone that stretched in front of his feet. Leaving the Seireitei official with a mighty hole to peer harmlessly down into. Perhaps to even get a snicker out of, considering the poor soul who resided at its core.

Down in the wet soil of the pit in which he now lay, a stunned Mika lay motionless. Eyes wide and frozen. Pupils constricted to pinpoints by the blitz of adrenaline that filled his every, bulging vein. The young man alive only by the grace of a most recent experiment. His body encased by a amber coloured chrysalis. The same sort of hardened fossil that saw the safeguarding of organic tissue for thousands, even millions, of years in the world of the living. The small man was completely absorbed by orangish formation. Seemingly unharmed by the hellish ordeal through which he just endured. Protected within his cocoon. Though now, the outer layer was beginning to show wear. Several large cracks bursting from nothing along its surface. Shattering into ever finer shards, until…

*cri-crek-sssssshhcreeeeak*

”Y-Yu...dam...FOO!” Rising like Frankenstein’s monster from the slab. Body shivering in weak fashion. A single hand outstretched towards the Vice Captain culprit. Pointing an accusatory finger in the direction of the assailant. Voice muffled behind the respirator of a obnoxiously heavy gas mask. The scrawny scientist rose, stumbling, from his amber swaddle. ”My lahb...my expureemuts. Oll ov my payshins!” Crawling up from the crater. Slogging up the dusty slope that rose to street level. The scientist showcased his physical ineptitude. Nearly failing at the trivial task...given his lack of a right arm.

Only finally making it to the surface with great struggle. Standing up right only after further troubles. Back turned to the would be policeman. Eyes staring, transfixed, through the massive, bug looking lenses of his rebreather. Turning back to the fellow Shinigami after taking in the totalness of his lab’s destruction. Lifting his one hand slowly. The white painted extremity now dirtied by soot and dust. ”Yu. Yu killed dem.” Gripping the stuffy mask that shielded his face from exposure, stripping it with a vicious tug.

Standing a modest 5’8”, and clearly underweight. Draped in a worn, now thoroughly burned, SRDI robe. Mika did not cut the imposing visage. Yet, his appearance should have been alarming. Given the smeared and ruined paint that covered his exposed flesh. An unusual look, to put it mildly. Y'know. No. How he looked should not be important.

(This) If Himitsu was reading the situation as any warrior would, he would find the whole ordeal quite telling. For even as debris rained from the sky. Even with an enemy as fearsome as the Vice Captain at his back. Mika focus did not bother with his rival. Instead his eyes returned to the fire. The colossal monument to destruction and loss. The gaping maw of embers, whose every breath dared to pull him in.

His face glimmering with warmth in the glow of the funeral pyre. An expression of distraught and turmoil. Inside, everything was dark and freezing. A pit growing by the second in his stomach. With his one and only hand, he clawed at the roots of his hair. Locking much of the greasy mess into his grip. Squeezing, pulling as the stress built. The pain he caused himself, a poor attempt to distract from the anxiety. "I...I was so close!", voice cracking to be heard of the roar of the flames. Grip tightening as his every muscle tensed. "I was so...fucking close!"

The young man's whole body shivered in frustration. Causing him to bend at the waist. Doubling over in a retching motion. "I could have cured them." Pacing now. Left and right in front of his burning home. "I would have cured them." Pacing faster now. Head shaking in his growing fury. Winning out no matter how tight he held his hair. "But you...", barely inaudible when smothered by the blaze. "You." Fingers releasing now. Head turning upward. Mika found the nerve to actually look at the man responsible for the cremation. Eyes coming to meet Himitsu's own; though, possessing noticeably more tears. Tears of resentment. Bitterness. Tears of an angry man, unable to look away from his failure.

”I’m going to pull you apart...”, his voice trailed into a chilling whisper. Clashing profoundly with the heated way he seemed to stare at his opponent. ”..and use your pieces to put them back together.” Like finding ice cubes in a boiling cauldron. And while it might have felt like a lifetime, for these words to ooze forth and seep into Himitsu's soul, it should be remembered...it was several. All of tme...roasting to ash in the inferno.(This)

At that moment, Mika’s reishi flared. Though he had not spoken any words aloud, it was profoundly clear what was occurring. For all around the mousey fellow, a swampy green haze began to grow and darken. The Shinigami’s Shikai was activating. Whatever it was. Misute would have enough experience with his own kind to know all the signs. Even if he did not fully know what to expect from his opponent. Mika on the other hand, well, what he stole from Squad 6 didn’t have anything to do with its controlling members. The scientist was just as blind to what the giant was capable of. Then again...he didn’t really care.

Remaining Reiatsu 2800/3000

-200 Reiatsu, Shikai

[Himitsu Kasumi'Oji]

(( I can’t believe I lost a post twice in one thread, so sorry for this super lame one. Also, this is gonna be the same timeline as we originally had, since I kinda like playing this old Himitsu ))

Himitsu had a hard time using words. All he could manage was a bewildered stare as Mika struggled to come to terms with the destruction. I killed them? He was working on a cure? thought the confused Vice Captain. As far as he was told, Mika was the bad guy who stole classified intelligence. However, Himitsu was questioning their roles. I was too reckless. I shouldn’t have done that.

Naturally, Mika blamed the Lieutenant, but Himitsu was too flustered to apologize. However, Mika’s shikai activation snapped him out of his gaze. As moss grew around his feet, he jumped as high as he could, pulling his knees up with him so that he could form a platform with Advanced Air Ground 4 feet above the green life. “Wait!” he exclaimed, trying to stop Mika before the fight escalated.

“I’m sorry, I made a mistake. But before you attack me, please explain what I killed and what cure you mentioned. At least allow me to understand the consequences of my actions.”

Reiatsu Remaining: 3975/4000

[MrDoctorDo]

(OoC: Sorry about the delay. Last week was hella busy, and the weekend is Dylan and Dom time. So not much writing got done till tonight. Hope you find it enjoyable!)

”Wait!”...WAIT he says! Mika’s eyes still carried the spark of hatred. A glow so bright that even the ruinous fires could not match their shimmer. Wait. No. there would be none of that. The young scientist wouldn’t even humor the words with a no. The pleas and the requests being smothered by the roar of the flames...and the pounding of his heart. Practically snarling, Mika’s eyes winced into a vicious focus. A tell. Something the officer might catch onto. Maybe he was not as much of a impulsive, fucking clutz when it comes to battle! Maybe...just maybe -when it isn’t his life on the line- the fool could thinking critically. With his body shrinking down into an poised manner, Mika’s reiatsu flared and flushed. The tell-tell sign of a massive expensive of energy. The kind that usually accompanies the release of something bigger than a Zanpakuto. Would Himitsu even feel it? Would he find his head freed from his ass long enough to score a clue?!

From beneath Himitsu’s floating position, a massive pillar of flesh would shoot skyward. It erupted from the saturated air. The green haze pooling together as if drawn in by a gasp. From the gathered breath, a tremendous conglomeration of meat and bone. Rising toward him at speeds that flickered through space...almost unseen. For it didn’t move. No. It simply grew into existence at rapid pace. Every new meter of tissue manifesting it closer to where the Squad 6 Vice Captain awaited. Travelling by way of creation. A taste of what he had gotten himself mixed up in. even if he wasn’t in the best position to exactly see what the angered doctor was making.

Not that any onlookers would have much of a clue either. The meat being very pale, and bulbous. It looked cold...and dead. It took the general shape of an limb. Forearm. One that was composed of bloated muscles and veins. Thin, ripping skin. Shimmering with a thick coat of oily excreation. There were even places where the tissue failed to fill in around the bone. Leaving the yellowed ossein exposed to the air. The whole of it smelling of a pungent bile. Yet, it was still very much human in form. Only...massive. Measure several meters in width, and even more in length, well before it was done materializing. Developing perfectly into what would be the arm of a tremendous giant.

”Sleeping Giant” indeed…

However! Just as the wrist was to form the hand...titan blossomed. At the point where the green mist and the bubbling flesh met and interbred; the nasty creation split and tore. Like a tree diverging into ever more numerous branches. From the tearing trunk oozed thick, fresh blood...and from the blood more flesh bloomed. Hands. Dozens of them. Sprouting like tumors from the limb. Each looking sickly and deformed in their own way. All of the roughly the size of Himitsu’s own. All of them reaching out towards him like a swarm of hooks. They raked through the sky where he remained aloft. Clawing through the smoke drenched air. Arching as they came up and then down upon him.

If the surprise caught his heart. If uncertainty clenched his mind. If...if they caught him. They would squeeze and grip into him with all the intensity of raving animals. Fingers crushing. Nails tearing. Pulling at him in a unanimous fashion so that he would be drug down with them. All of the hands plummeting towards the ground along with the dead weight of the mighty arm from which they spawned. The whole vile embodiment collapsing to the pull of gravity. Wanting nothing more than to take Himitsu with it. Hoping to drag him low…as was deserved. Possibly even break him upon the cobbled streets.

Mika used his Shikai’s humid field of cells to birth a monster. Anger and regret fueling the foulness and savagery of the nativity scene. Mika’s mind a swimming pool of chemical imbalance. While he kept his eyes trained onto Himitsu like a hungry dog would fresh meat; his thought swirled with memories that didn’t die in the fire. Memories of names, and of faces. Of tragic stories. All of them...far too familiar to the young medic. People whose lives were ruined before they were even born. Victims who suffered the cruelties of wife, as Mika had, still in the womb.

Bunta. He had been fat his entire life. There was no other way to say it. Records showed that no matter what he did, he couldn’t lose the weight. The records also showed how his mind handled this fate. Diagnosed with depression, from quite early on. Yet every personal account of the man was glowing. Everyone who knew Bunta in Squad 8 had great things to say. A hilarious soul, that would oftentimes be caught lost in thought. Yet, always a joy to be around. Kin’ya. There weren’t many personal statements to be found about Kin’ya. He must have been very shy. Very quiet. For not one person could recall him in great detail. What he was like. Who he really was. All that was known was what his medical records could reveal. Tall fellow. Practically a giant like Himitsu. Many injuries suffered and healed. Most of which occurred when he was a child; while his bones were still developing. No telling what sort of scars he had to grow up with.

Genjiro. An old man who seemingly lived his life to the fullest. Outliving many of his closest friends. His family quite loving and respecting of their venerable patriarch. Saddened by a growing sickness that had plagued him for...years. Worried that with his age he would have soon failed to endure the recurring symptoms. They seemed quite scared of their elder’s frequent episodes of mental instability. Ryusei. So...young. The boy wasn’t even old enough to enter into the Shinoreijutsuin. It would have been decades before his potential as a Shinigami would have developed in full. Decades that illness threatened to rob him of. A strange sickness that left, what should have been a healthy child, with frequent seizures and waking nightmares. Draining his health to the point of atrophy; while his parents watched helplessly. Hoping for something to change the cruel fate that had been dealt to their miracle child. And then…her.

Geeh, a gasp,aaaaaaaaaaa!

The scream was guttural and pained. The smaller fellow’s voice turning quite shrill in the outburst. Feet kicking up dirt as a Shunpo carried him forward. His mind still reeling his losses. Mika had sought them all out because of their stories. It had taken a long time. Required planning and careful subterfuge. His crimes far exceeding that of a simple data mining. The stealing of digital information nothing compared to what it took to supply his lab. Even the acquisition of tools and generators would prove quite frivolous when everything had been said and done. Yet, every bit of it had been worth it.

All the risks. All the dangers which preceded him...and even followed him. Even now. Entangled in battle with a Vice Captain of all people. That too would have been an acceptable price for a cure. Now there was no hope for any of that. Fire...the ultimate end to everything valuable. Except Himitsu. Mika was going to do all he could to make sure that he didn’t burn. Not one inch of him. Each and every piece of the rival Shinigami would need to be intact for all that he had planned. The only consolation to the setbacks he suffered here today.

The Shunpo that saw Mika launched from the street was not a direct attack on the Himi. There was no guarantee that the Vice Captain would, or would not be caught by the armbomination that the doctor had conjured. Yet that was still his target. His rather slow, and frantic flash step hurling him straight towards the tangled mess of gripping hands. Like an animal hurtling onto a kill. The full of his body thrown into the fleshy branches. Reaching them while the behemoth was still falling slowly to the street.

Gripping desperately with his only hand; Mika made himself a rather blatant target. Even if Himitsu weren’t free to strike from any angle he so desired. Even if the Vice Captain had been caught by the spontaneous eruption of snatching fingers. Himitsu would find that Mika was well within reach. His hand, his only defense, occupied by the tenuous grip he fought to hold. The scientist’s mind occupied by another task. One that didn’t even involve Himitsu.

With a loud and cracking grown; Mika’s wrist gave a violent and hearty twist. With the way his body jerked in the motion, it was obvious he put the full effort of his strength into the maneuver. His hand still wrapped around one of the many arms that grew from the giant predecessor. The dying and flimsy flesh of the newly grown aberration tearing quite easily. Like ripping the leg off half rotted poultry. Freeing the fraction from the rest of the figure. Mika...giving himself a hand. A limb that would be quite fitting for himself, actually.

Despite its sickly appearance, the freed extremity was long enough to be an appropriate counterpart for the one that tore it away from the monster. Maybe Himi could reckon a few things. Things like, “what would a one armed man want with an arm?” The answer would need to come quickly for the Vice Captain. Mika, after all, already knew. Not only that, but in his hurry to cause as much pain as he could...the younger Shinigami was turning his eyes to find wherever his opponent might be waiting. The sky, the ground, clutched in the folds of a dozen decaying palms! Wherever he’d gotten off too.

Within the belly of the inn. Where the fires grew hottest. Massive amounts of air and...other substances….were being drawn in from the sewers below. The passages becoming airways. The cisterns acting as lungs. All together providing lungs to the raging beast. Allowing it to fan itself. To further the devastation, rather than let the raging stop. So successful was growth that yet another powerful explosion erupted. This one possessing just as much force as the first, with all the same volume and brightness. The final walls of the once proud tavern weakened by the heat thus far, were blasted into splinters.

A heat wave rushed across the cobbled, dirty roads of the Rukongai. For hundreds of meters in every direction. Untold numbers of spirits residing within this corner of the western fringe would leave their homes. All of them turning their eyes to the glimmering pyre. The ash that billowed into the sky. The falling flames that ignited yet more homes. The ever creeping holocaust. Each of them wondering where they should run. What they should take. What monsters were responsible. Was it Hollows on the rampage? Or was it Shinigami...being careless.

Considering the long history of Seireitei’s negligence and aggression; they would be doomed either way.

The burning breeze rolling right over both of the Shinigami fighting at her footsteps. Though they weren’t close enough to feel the licks of fire’s tongues...they would still feel her heated breath. Skin burning. Mouths drying. Ears ringing from the burst of air. Hell, even the severed beast tha Mika conjured was looking quite damaged by the blaze. That dead skin peeling and turning to dust even faster in the heat’s presence. While these effects were certainly not enough to slow down the typically Shinigami...they were unpleasantries that would not go unnoticed. The kind that would grow much worse with continued exposure. Someone might need to tell the smaller fellow that, however. For Mika launched himself yet again with another Shunpo. Throwing himself as he did before. Only this time, aimed straight at the Himitsu. His form and technique still appearing...

Laughably unprepared. This individual might be a Shinigami, but he wasn’t a fighter. Putting aside the absence of any sort of weapon or sword; Mika was completely lacking in balance or control. His every movement was unrefined and awkward. Whenever he used his weight or momentum, it was all or nothing. Not that it amounted to much. Given how frail he was. If anything, it only guaranteed that the young man was going to wear himself out. Fast. If Himitsu could keep his distance from danger or injury, then he would be able to outlast his unskilled opponent. Keeping distance might prove the real challenge.

Mika seemed to still have the energy to chase and charge him. Gripping the detached limb at the wrist. Mika was actually lunging after him with the limb acting as his sword. The morbid appendage behaving as a weapon. Though far less rigid. Bending and hooking where the wrist and elbow both hinged. The exposed flesh that would have made up the shoulder slinging blood with every flick and motion that it made. The whole thing being more of a club than a zanpakuto. The bone and flesh not as sturdy as steel. Certainly not as sharp, and yet the gruesome sight should prove foreboding. Perhaps...in this strange man’s hand...it was more dangerous than a blade.

How was Himitsu planning to deal with this morbid challenger? And would he be able to focus enough to carry out that plan...

”They didn’t choose to be sick!” Over the sound of flaring embers and crackling timbers. Louder than the distant screams of worried innocents. Noisier than his own thumping heart; Mika’s voice cried out in harsh manner. As soon as Shunpo could deposit him near Himitsu -regardless of the dangers such closeness posed- he would come out swinging. The bulging bone that crowned the exposed humerus came ploughing towards him like a club. There was little strength behind the swing. Zero technique or refinement. Fueled by nothing more than a seething desire to injure. ”No one ever chooses to be!” Mika wasn’t prepared for anything. Maybe he would have had expectations on another day, but not this one.

Maybe Himitsu would parry his blow? Dodge. Flee. Whatever the case, unless he was stopped, Mika was going to unleash an ugly flurry. One-handed flailing until the breath left his chest. More words crying out with each swing. Each slower than the last. Each of them weaker. ”You’d rather kill than cure!” With every utterance his voice fell off. Losing the vigor that it started with. The paint on his face hiding much of the redness that his exclamations had caused. Yet, around the eyes, the thick foundation was starting to smudge and run. It was getting harder and harder for the young man to contain himself. Mika’s grip would grow shakey around the wrist he held. Squeezing out any remnants of life that remained in the decrepit limb. For each additional swing he was allowed to throw, the fatigue would tear him down more. Until finally, through gritted teeth…

”How do you expect to learn anything being so wasteful.”

Himitsu had been right to ask all his questions. Even if he wasn’t going to come by his answers with ease. For there was more than a thief to be dealt with. Perhaps, while staring into Mika’s frightful eyes, Himitsu would start to gleen some of the truth. The briefing the officer had been given before making his way downtown. Thoughts that should come flooding back in with all these talks of sickness...and death. After all, what was stolen was data. Records. Those of a medical, classified nature. The individuals in question had no doubt been mentioned to Himitsu. With his rank he could hardly be denied the information. All of the records were of individuals beyond the ranks of Squad 6.

Hell, some of them didn’t even belong to Shinigami. However, they all had something in common. Something...bad. The kind of thing that Squad 6 would take very seriously, considering their Captain. A sickness of the most unique nature; in which, a Hollow polluted the soul. Turning otherwise normal souls into dangerous monsters. The kind that could change at any moment, and cause unbelievable destruction. The kind of people that his squad would seek to exterminate. Well, would have...if all of the individuals not already been disposed of. The only remnants of them the digitized information that was now missing. The echoes that he had been sent to recover or destroy. The burglar who took them to be captured...and returned.

”We deserve to live.”

Shikai - 1/10 posts

Remaining Reiatsu - 2090/3000
-400 Nikuno Negai, created the tremendous forearm that sprouted dozens of tiny arms and hands instead of a hand.
-100 Shunpo, flying at the created arm.
-100 Shunpo, flying at Himitsu(gon getcha).
-5%(110), cellular consumption.