Post by ☾ Aevus | Umbra ☽ on Jul 6, 2017 3:57:01 GMT -5
It was a pity, the bladed echoes of those four Zanpakuto bounced off the very flesh of that Rogue. As if the man wrapped a shield around his entire body. The hollow’s eyes widened. She had not anticipated such a hardy defense. It was a curious display of power~ A black glimmer would take the Masked man to safety. Rescuing him from the Hollow’s onslaught of attacks. Like a thread being snapped, those ghostly phantoms of the Hollow Reaper faded as if smoke. Disappearing as quickly as they were woven into the very world.
Golden eyes narrowed upon the now still black blade that sheltered but prey. In an instant a phantom wove into creation, drawing forth that runic blade across the black one. Sparks flew violently but the shadowed weapon did not break under the pressure of the Hollow’s attack. And with that lack of destruction came a hiss and swipe of a blade. [smear:#ffd700]"You hide with much cowardice, 'Masked Lamb'~”[/smear:ffe34d] Her voice would echo within Douma’s mind. [smear:#ffd700]“Rather slippery 'Prey' indeed."[/smear:ffe34d]
Her golden irises lit like beacons, gazed skyward to that rooftop where Lumina still stood. She was sheltered in shadow but the Hollow could sense everything within that darkly territory. Regardless if they were marked or not. [smear:#ffd700]“No matter~”[/smear:ffe34d] Past that black mask, a playful smile dissolved into a rather malicious one. A red thread was woven from a thread of Reiatsu, connecting the Soul Reaper’s Zanpakuto Spirit to the Rogue. [smear:#ffd700]“The 'Wolf' will do~”[/smear:ffe34d] With that, the Hollow would vanish from the Rogue’s very sight.
To Douma it might have appeared as if the Fox had left him. And in a way she had. But no, she was not done with the man. Pain would come forth abruptly to the Rogue. He would feel it pierce his right shoulder like a lightning bolt. It was violent, abrupt and that was not the end of it. Following that shock of that attack, came a scream and than a whimper, as a pale silhouette fell to the dirt of that alleyway. Douma would hear it clearly and the pain from that fall would resonate throughout him as he’d experience the very same fate.
Eyes painfully beaming of moonlight, clenched shut from that crash. A blade flashed into the light as the Zanpakuto Spirit writhed in pain. It stook out from her right shoulder glinting in that aluminate light. Her fingers instinctively reached forth fighting against that agony, for her weapon. Yet a blade woven by fate thwarted her reach. It resounded and echoed throughout that alley as it shot through her forearm, sticking through the very dirt. Another scream rang out from that attack.
Tears began to fall from her very visage. One name managed to escape her lips. “Aevus-” She would cry but something would cut her off. Another blade wove into reality, quickly struck through her left ankle. It Dug itself through the ground, pinning the spirit in place. Another cry painfully escaped those trembling lips. “...Aevus please hel-” She was calling out to him in a desperate whine. Tears strolled past swollen silver eyes. Glinting in that now harsh light.
Douma would not only feel the pain that writhed through the Spirit’s body. He’d also feel her fear and her anguish. He’d feel but also hear her desperate and futile attempts to stop the Hollow. To stop the creature from using Aevus as a puppet. Regardless, it’d be excruciating for the both of them. [smear:#ffd700]“To slaughter the 'Lamb' through a 'Wolf'. With but a mere thread. How unfortunate~”[/smear:ffe34d] Her voice rang harshly throughout the Rogue. She delivered it very much like venom, letting her whispers filter and echo through the man’s mind.
But the words that sheltered inside Lumina’s ear were but silent to Douma. The Spirit’s torture was far more different. She was helpless in the face of the Reaper. Even while wearing that mask, she could do nothing in the face of that man. But she wanted it to stop. Oh desperately did she want it too. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want any of this... She didn’t want to be killed by “Aevus...” A whine in the form of a whisper left trembling lips. But yet another blade slid against the dirt before her.
Her silver gaze drenched in moonlit tears, stirred to her Golden eyed Reaper. He stood before her, basking in that darkly light. His black robes rippled faintly from a passing breeze. Those eyes, his golden eyes narrowed upon her like she were but prey. Easy prey~ A morsel, simply there for the picking. They wavered not but Lumina saw a twinkle in that preyful visage. There were tears in the Reaper’s eyes but that did not stop the Hollow as her voice slithered into Lumina’s mind.
[smear:#ffd700]“To be undone by the hand that feeds you~ Driven into the ground, with the very powers you’ve bestowed upon your dear unloving master. Yet here you are. And you still cry out for him to save you? Clinging to hope so frailly, Oh~ How heedlessly poetic~"[/smear:ffe34d] The Hollow giggled, stretching forth that runic blade to the wounded spirit. The Hollow would slide the cold spiritual steel against Lumina’s cool cheek, caressing her with the blade.[smear:#ffd700]“You squirm foolishly in the dirt, 'little one'. Mournful tears shed past frozen and pale cheeks.”[/smear:ffe34d]
The Hollow would wipe away one of the Wolven Spirit’s tears before lifting her chin with the edge of the weapon. Cutting her cheek and drawing blood in the process. [smear:#ffd700]“The 'Little Hunter' doesn’t love you. He never has and he never will. You’re utterly constrained by that chained leash wrapped tightly around your throat. You are still but a 'prisoner, dear wolf' and you will forever never be free~ ”[/smear:ffe34d] With a swipe of but a blade, blood would spill against the cold dirt. Lumina’s gaze shifted at those words and her will wavered alongside them.
She couldn’t look at him, she couldn’t face him like this. She had failed, she had failed the Reaper at every turn. And now... Now she was going to die by his very hand. Her body trembled, she shivered from that pain. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to die. She didn’t want to die... Not this way, not by him. So many thoughts of what could and what should of been, whirled violently through her mind. Yet she had no idea of what to do. What could she do to him?
She’d never raise a blade to Aevus and the Hollow knew that. And even if she did, it’d be futile. The Fox was simply to strong for her now. “Aevus..." A painfully silent whisper managed to escape her lips. She knew that the Reaper most likely couldn’t hear her. She knew that he was beyond her help. She couldn’t even look at him. But yet still... She had to try. She had to do something. And so she forced herself to. Even if it was out of desperation, she had to at least try.
Her silver gaze rose to that golden preyful one. Those wolven ears of hers lowered as she looked upon that darkly mask of the fox. It took all of her will just to face him. She could barely stand it. To see him looking at her like she was but prey. Oh how she wanted to escape. To curl back inside her night stained world. To recoil and leave that nightmarish gaze. And yet her trembling lips perked. Something in her sparked. As if a small flame managed to ignite within her. It was sudden but came truly.
Not only did she force herself to face him. But past a quivering lip, she managed to smile. ‘It’s ok Aevus...’ That’s what she wanted to say. ‘It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault’ She wanted to reassure him. ‘I don’t blame you, so please don’t blame yourself for this’ Oh how she wished those words could escape those trembling lips of hers. But no, all she could manage was that feigned smile. The very same smile, she had seen on the Reaper time and time again.
She was lying with that smile alone. And past that lie, sheltered a frightened girl. One who could do nothing in the face of those eyes she adored so. Even as as that cold blade passed her cheek and the blood began to run down her face. She managed to cling to that golden visage of his. The eyes that bled of a hollow. Eyes that carried her aloft, to that quivering smile of her’s. Even as the Hollow brought the sword to her very throat, she remained still. Ever frozen, staring into those burning eyes.
Pain overran her entire being as she laid there pinned by the very Zanpakuto that shared her name. As before, she could do nothing in the face of the Reaper. Rain began to fall, drowning the very land with their crashing fall. The Hollowfied Shinigami stood holding that runic double bladed Zanpakuto to his very Spirit’s throat. Time was generally a miniscule thing to a Shinigami. Gifted with long lives, many Shinigami stood inobservant to the test of time. Until of course one is met with those fleeting moments.
Those moments where everything finally comes undone. When the threads are unwoven and the grains of sand slip between the cracks of their fingers. When they lose the ones they love. When they fail to stop something that was right before them because they were not fast enough to stop it. Or they just couldn’t stop it. When fate snaps its mighty jaws around their throat and finally rips them apart. When they realize they were never truly the captain of their fate. That in reaching forth and pulling those threads without thinking, after all this time. That something else was manipulating the sails of their destiny all along.
That is how Aevus felt when he lost control of himself. When his body seemingly moved on its own. When he was forced to come face to face with his very demons. And he was drowning in them, drowning in that sea of lightless black. The darkly tides pulled him in and under, sheltering the Reaper from any and all light. Submerging him in that cold and cruel darkness. But he could see past that fog of black. See a world without color. Distorted and drowned in an ocean he could not escape.
He saw his blade rise. He saw those tears clinging to his Spirit’s very cheeks. He saw the pain he wrought down upon her. He felt the joy of the Hollow sing to him. He felt it echo within him deeply and some twisted part of him smiled alongside that Hollow. It felt terrible, it felt strangling and overwhelming. As if something monstrous was overcoming his very conscious and forcing him to enjoy this torture. Blood began to pool beneath his poor Spirit’s naked silhouette, while a smile stood frozen, behind a rotten mask.
And when he smiled his whole world began to fall apart at the seams. And the water began to fill the cracks. He wondered where this twisted pleasure was coming from. Was it only because of the Hollow? Or was he the one who was truly fucked up? Was he just another monster in need of purging? Part of him wanted to stop himself. To stay that blade or even turn it on himself. If only he could, he thought. He’d give anything to turn away from those moonlit eyes.
But some part of him was still smiling. Why? Why was this happening? Why did things have to be this way? Why was he enjoying this so? ‘Stop... please stop' He was practically begging himself at this point. But he couldn’t fight back. He couldn’t escape that black, night stained ocean. The tide was to strong for him and even as he was carried by it. His hands, his body, even his heart was not his own. His spirit wavered against that tsunami of emotions. It came crashing down as his blade caressed the neck of his Wolven Spirit.
He could hear the whispers of the vixen. As if she was holding herself against him, locked in a dance. One foot after the other. His hand interlocked with her own and the other around her lithely waist. The two stirred beneath the seabed in that sensual dance. Yet she led him, gazing into his frozen blues with that burning visage of a hollow. They were the only light in that darkness of an ocean. Beacons that let him witness the very actions that he could not control. Or simply had not the heart nor will to control.
He was going to kill Lumina. He felt it, past numb fingers. He felt it in his heart. He was going to repeat that fateful night all over again. And it killed him inside. It tore him apart, that he was smiling while he tortured her. It was just the Hollow he tried to tell himself. This isn’t me, this can’t be me. But no it was him. Some part of him wanted this. Some part of him was cruel enough to kill his Spirit just to get to the Rogue. He knew, deep down he knew he was capable of this.
Those harboring twisted thoughts, emerged like unharbored instincts. No longer anchored, no longer leashed by his morality or conscious mind. He was but a shell of his former self. A weapon, a hollow and a monster. In truth he knew what he was doing and why he was doing it. Emotional distraught, pain, lingering guilt just like fear fell within a light consuming ocean. For such things sunk into the very depths of him, drowning as that Hollow held captive the ship that sat them anchor.
The Hollow was but a key that let him loose. And as Lumina left his gaze, some part of him was relieved. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He didn’t want to see the light leave that moonlit gaze of her’s. It was to much to bear. He didn’t want to kill her. But why... Why was going to? And why did part of him want to? Why couldn’t he just stop himself from it? He wanted to turn the blade on himself. If only he could. Oh, he’d give anything to escape from here.
To return to those days he spent with that green eyed cougar. Running upon rooftops, sneaking within shadows. He missed her. He even missed the nipping and nagging he would get when he failed during training. He never knew the cat’s name but he remembered her fondly regardless. He even missed his favorite distraction, Ivy. Oh how he loved to tease her. Heh and flirt enough to get her out of her shell. Those emerald eyes of her’s could imprison him with a glance alone.
He missed Aura. The look of hope in those stealthy teal eyes still sheltered within him. Those nights he spent with that kid, felt like a lifetime ago but oh so close. She dreamed of a better world and she saw one past this terrible one. He wondered if this is how she had felt before she died. If so, he now understood her dying words. But still...{He was no Hero...}
He was going to kill a piece of himself. The only part of him that he truly gave a damn about. Lumina was his sense when he had none. She was his reason and his guide. She was the source of his strength and his power. But most of all She was his closest and truest friend. And he was going to kill her with the very blade that once sheltered her soul.
When he saw that trembling smile. It was all to much to bear. ‘Feigned smiles only reveal white lies.’ He had remembered her telling him. He could see past that smile easily. She was shivering and terrified but she was trying to hide it behind that crafted smile. But she couldn’t hold it, yet she forced herself too. As his Zanpakuto held sharply against her throat, a single tear would slip away from his burning gaze. He wondered, if this is how Lumina felt every time he lied to her.
Every time he feigned a smile to her. did she hurt because of it? To suffer alone quietly, it was horrifying to see firsthand especially with the ones you- His blade outstretched, left her neck. He barely felt his benumbing fingers as they curled ever so tightly around the handle of his Zanpakuto. The night stood still as his blade sifted through the dark and cold aura of his territory. He held it forth, as if about to swing it. As if he was going drive it into Lumina’s very throat.
And thus he swung. The blade snarled and sung as it passed through the very air. Time slowed in that damp dark alley. The lying smile of his spirit sheltered his gaze. Her tears and blood stained her pale naked form under the bask of the moonlight above. So many things left unsaid. So many things left undone. His blade moved as if snapping billions and billions of threads at once. He knew what it meant to die from this blade... She knew it too. She wasn’t coming back after this.
His blade was unwavering. It stopped not as it slid through the air. 'Stop, stop, stop!' He shouted to himself in that cold, dark and damp world. He hated this. He hated himself. He hated the fact that she was lying to him. That She was trying to reassure him. But he was suffering and the guilt would never wash away. He knew that much and he hated it. He hated this part... He didn’t want to see the end of this cruel fate. He’d stop time if he could. He’d do everything in his power to stop it.
To stop that swing from reaching her. As before, it was to much for him to bear. He couldn’t stand it. The thought of killing her. The thought of killing her drove him crazy. It was terrible. So terrible. It was heart wrenching. Rain drops were cut through as his blade echoed through the air. His blade would not stop. Even as it moved, a nanosecond felt like eternity. He could see the world frozen through still yet barely moving frames. It was as if watching everything in slow motion.
“I love-”
Two words... Two simple words escaped her trembling lips. Past a broken smile. Past that widened teared moonlit gaze. Two words faltered and the third was cut short. But not by a blade. Stopped was his hand against her very throat. His blade shook beneath a shivering hand. The darkness of that mask began to wash away. Breaking into tiny black fragments before disappearing into dust. As his eyes turned blue and that golden gaze faded, he'd stand there unmoving.
His blade still shook as he held the cold edge to his Spirit's neck. Lumina laid there, ever fearful and shocked. She couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't believe his eyes. She was staring into those tearful blues as if they were a treasure. Something precious to her and they were. They were ever so precious to the Wolven Spirit, deeply so. Following the fade of that mask, the Reaper would fall over. The bladed echoes of fate that pinned her, also faded with his fall. And yet she laid there motionless, frozen as moonlight within the rain.
