Crossing the River - NDE

[Akio Naito]

Name: [Crossing the River]
Participants: [Amare Mori, Torre Vulci, Akio Naito]
Location: [Southwest Karakura]
Difficulty Level [Easy~medium?]
Threat Level: [NDE]
Plotline:
Estimated Enemy Strength: [Lower class seven, escalating up to mid class four at most?]
Estimated Time Until Completion: [No idea]
Starts: [Whenever everyone can post]
Special Conditions: [Large amounts of low-threat enemies continue to fall from the sky.]

[Akio Naito]

Thanks to the river, there were a few bridges in Karakura. But there was only one bridge that was also part of the railway line, though some argued there were actually two. The train tracks cut through the southern part of town from west to east, with the Old Karakura train station caught between the Karasu river, which split the town from north to south, and the Onose river, which officially served as the entire town's western border. The bridge marking where the tracks and Karasu river met would normally have been empty this time of night, a stargazing spot for teenage romantics at most.

But something was different about that particular night, because the sky had torn open above the bridge, ragged edges held in place by twelve ashen hands, and several figures had descended from that gap in the world, swaying in place a few centimeters above whichever surface they landed over. Each figure was identical, bell-shaped bodies the color of ash, a single round hole through the center of that mass, and a simplified skull mask above it on one side, more of a flat circle with four rectangular protrusions that gave the impression of teeth. Handing below the main body of each, twelve dangling, transparent tendrils, each ending in a sharp-clawed hand. Hollows, every one.

And they just kept coming, the gateway had been dispensing an unending tide of hollows ever since it opened. The gathered swarm all silently floating, even as their numbers surpassed twenty instances. A few, however, turned their heads to face the approaching forms of two even larger hollows. They had the same basic design, but resembled humanoids in tattered black cloaks, exceedingly similar in form to the mindless common Gillians, with hole and mask placements aligning to that perception. Though the illusion of lacking identity was broken by the deep red arms hanging underneath their 'cloaks'.

Meanwhile, a young aficionado of supernatural battles was lurking off in the distance. Reiatsu suppressed purely out of habit while they sat on an artificial riverbank, watching the nightmarish hollows pile up. That particular observer was primed to escape if necessary, but had chosen to keep from doing so just yet. Better to have a back-row seat, in case someone more qualified came along to make this interesting. It had been too long since he saw something from the start, after all.

SPOILER: Click to show

{First Wave?}-Clone Hollows-

Class - Seven

Strength - [50] Points
Speed - [60] Points
Spiritual Pressure - [25] Points
Reiatsu Strength - [50] Points
Instinct - [45] Points
Senses - [25] Points
Energy sensory - [45] Points
Total SP - [300]

Reiatsu - [250/250]

Skills;
Battle Focus - [1]
Weapon [Claws] - [1]
Damage Recovery - [1]

Combat notes; Mass combat unit of generic hollows created by the ability of a Menos. Reliant on numbers and coordinated barrages of Bala.

SPOILER: Click to show

{First Wave?}-Clone Gillians-

Class - Five

Strength - [100] Points
Speed - [100] Points
Spiritual Pressure - [40] Points
Reiatsu Strength - [50] Points
Instinct - [55] Points
Senses - [55] Points
Energy sensory - [50] Points
Total SP - [450]

Reiatsu - [400/400]

Skills;
Battle Focus - [1]
Weapon [Claws] - [2]
Damage Recovery - [2]

Combat notes; Two generic Gillians created by the ability of a particularly large Menos. Physically strong, but possess a severely limited moveset.

[Amare Mori]

Amare was swiftly developing a new sense for spiritual entities. The ability to detect their essence and even their power to an extent. It was taking... a lot of getting used to. It was weird to be trying to sleep in the middle of the night and then waking up with a start because some Sparkle Wizard walked under his apartment window. It was a little like having an alarm clock that was constantly going off. He wasn't sure how to either turn it off, filter it or live with it. Tonight wasn't much of an exception. Only tonight, one could say the alarm was ringing a lot louder than usual. Something big was coming tonight. More than just a simple sparkle wizard or Broccoli person wandering nearby. No, this was bigger. And a little further away. Amare's eyes opened, the Fullbringer lying in bed, and with a groan, rolled off his covers and clumsily stumbled out of his warm bed, to his apartment window which gazed out over the city. Working for Uzaki Enterprises had some very nice perks, and the pay was enough to afford a pretty decent place. One bedroom, sure, but it was in a nice location for Amare to perform his "superhero" duties (as he saw them) in protecting Karakura Town. He could see any major troubles from a good distance away. And tonight... Well, tonight he saw quite the disturbance. A rift in the sky. Amare knew those well. Gargantua!? He thought in astonishment. He then glared. "Looks like the city is gonna need some protecting tonight." He mused, as he ran to get changed. Thankfully it was a pretty quick thing to do. Amare had practiced changing into his battle outfit often. Amare.... yeah, he was weird. He'd deny it to his last breath, and be mortified if he ever knew how weird he actually was.

But in circumstances like this, it did have results. Having practiced changing into his battle outfit for just such an occasion, Amare ran to the closet, threw off his nightshirt and pants, and threw on his combat suit. Well, he called it his combat suit anyways. It was a black sleeveless muscle shirt, and blue flexible jeans. He pulled on a pair of his fingerless gloves, and then came the most important part-- his scarf. He walked over to it, hanging over the mirror, took it in his hands, and in a single motion, flung it around his neck, the article of clothing falling perfectly into place. "I love you grandpa." He thought with a smile, thinking on the man who had given him this scarf in the first place. Now let's save some people tonight! He thought, running to his bed to pull on a fresh pair of socks. The one thing he hadn't practiced. In truth, he kinda had expected a situation where he'd have to change into his fighting get-up while out in the city or something and therefore wouldn't have to change those out. Lesson learned Amare, lesson learned. Always be prepared! He thought as he pulled on his socks then quickly threw on his black combat boots. He was ready. He grabbed his keys, but paused for a minute, and looked out his window. Four stories. Could he manage it? Amare took a deep breath. If I'm wrong about this I could break my legs.... He thought. But if I'm right.... Amare slid the window open. Took several steps back. And then charged out, vaulting into the air beyond, somersaulting in midair.

"GERONIMOOOOOOO!" He exclaimed, moments before he stuck the superhero landing, right on the apartment building's lawn. The impact shuddered his body to the core, and he might have bruised his knee from it, despite the soft dirt cushioning his fall minorly. Also the landing displaced a bit, leaving a very small dent in the lawn where he landed. "....Huh. That worked. Didn't even fracture or scrape myself! ....Yes! Progress! I'm stronger!" Amare whooped loudly, before pausing and covering his mouth. Damnit! It was quiet hours! He was supposed to be quiet so he didn't wake anyone up! He glanced up at the building and his now open window. ....I didn't take my keys with me. ....How am I supposed to get back in? He wondered briefly. Screw it, I'll work that out later. I've got to protect the city! And Amare took off at a sprint. To a normal person, he at once became little more than a brief blur of motion. In fact, in the dark night, even that was probably an overstatement. Amare's movement wasn't even a blur to the average person, it was a flicker, visible only for the briefest of moments as he passed under a street light. Surprisingly the dark colors of his combat outfit made him a little hard to see in the darkness. An unexpected benefit.

The Fullbringer had seen where the Hollows were coming from. Near the river. He sprinted towards the river, not worrying too much about pacing himself. Amare had figured out by now that his body had long since ascended beyond human limits. Something that both amazed and troubled him. Was he a freak now? A monster? Granted, he knew people that were stronger than he was. But in terms of physical strength he was beginning to believe he was surpassing them. Sure, Sparkle Wizards and Arrancar were stronger than he was. That was fine. They weren't limited by flesh and blood like he was, but of that weird... ghost matter that comprised them. Amare wondered a bit about that. How far he'd come from originally not believing in ghosts. But then in face of so much evidence from working with Uzaki Enterprises he kind of had to accept that at this point. There was indeed a confirmed afterlife, protected by the Sparkle Wizards, and spirits did legitimately exist. It was bizarre. Something he had trouble wrapping his head around even now.

But tonight wasn't the time for thoughts like that. Freak or not, he had to use the strength he had developed to protect Karakura from the Hollows that massed even now! Amare tore the scarf from his neck and willing it to transform. At once, the scarf flashed out and straightened like a rod. It changed and twisted in his hand until where once had been a pale scarf, there now was a gleaming arming sword. Double edged, with a shining silver blade, and looked sharp enough to cut things with just a graze. "We're almost there. Let's do this Caliburn!" Amare boasted aloud as he finally came up on the river. There they were. A swarm of Hollows hovering above the bridge. At a glance they didn't seem too strong. Amare figured he and Caliburn could handle it... right.

Err.... there are.... there are a lot of them though.... He thought with some slight nervousness. I've only ever fought one or two at a time... is this gonna be alright? He further pondered, holding his arming sword at the ready. Not that it mattered. Amare was many things. A coward wasn't one of them. Nor was he someone who valued his own life over those of others. If there was one shining virtue for Amare Mori, it's that he truly did believe in doing good, and protecting others, whatever the cost. He had the determination and mindset of the superheroes he so desperately tried to emulate, even if he didn't quite have the style, charisma, strength, intelligence, wisdom, or just plain common sense of those heroes. He had committed to this course. It didn't matter if there was one Hollow or one hundred. He was here now and he would fight them, and drive off as many as he could. If things worked out, great! If they didn't....

....

Things would work out! Amare readied his blade in one hand, flourishing it into a salute at the swarm of Hollows. "Alright you devils! I don't know how many of you I can take, but I can promise you the first of you to come this way are gonna get hacked in two! So come on!" Amare's reiatsu burned brightly, if weakly. His spirit power was not especially great, only around the level of the average unseated Shinigami. Still, it, like everything else, showed off his determination. Amare was going to take these Hollows down regardless of the cost. Guess I'll be testing my limits tonight! Let me do well, and bring home an awesome story to tell Asuka-sensei!

SPOILER: Click to show

{Stats}Strength - 200 (300)
Speed - 240 (300)
Spiritual Pressure – 260 (130)
Reiatsu Strength - 100 (50)
Light Aura - [85] Points
Dark Aura - [15] Points
Instinct - 100
Senses- 50
Energy sensory - 50
Healing Expertise – 0
Total: 1000

[Torre Vulci]

Something was weird tonight. After his last little visit being sorta disturbed, Torre decided to visit Karakura to see the night time sakura blossoms. It was nice refreshing change for once in a while, the kind of breeze here was different. It wasn't as calming or cooling to his flesh as the breeze from the brazillian beachside, but it was still soothing somewhat. He had learned how to finally sense spiritual beings within a set range. By this point he had already met up with a shinigami for the town and clarified he was just here to relax, and that's all he has really done. 

Of course he was observed and watched, but after about 2 or so hours of him doing nothing, but relaxing they scrambled off. Sure, Karakura was a spiritual death trap for many if not all, but it didn't mean everyone wanted the city to be empty. Currently sitting ontop of a building he sighed softly from the relaxing time he has had. Well, up until he felt a massive flux of spiritual pressure not too far away from him. "...Hollows?.... No.... even those morons can't. " He said for the first few seconds. Blinking and getting onto his feat when he felt the near endless horde approaching into the world of the living. 

"...How are there... are they on a frenzy? Tch. " Weighing his options in the air it was a easy choice to just leave and let Karakura fend for itself. Then again, he thought about the type of damage this could cause. "...I leave. Mortals die and more hollows are made. .....Fuck that includes children doesn't it? " A loud groan as he knew that if he left and children died, then he would only beat himself up about it later. " Fine. Guess i'll play hero. Just for tonight. " Cracking his neck as well as his knuckles, he launched himself towards the hordes general location. 

...

Right as Amare finished whatever little taunt or heroic declare he was saying. There was a series of loud booms that were getting audibly closer. Torre was propelling himself with the reiatsu in the air, but the amount of force behind each one was enough to leave a loud boom noise. All before the arrancar seemingly blurred into reality from how fast he was moving. " Don't get in the way. " Were the only words Torre spoke to the strange mortal man, before seemingly blurring again. Well, to say the explosion of hollow blood was anything less than a sudden implosion of the cranium would be insane. 

One hollow down, only god knows how many left to go. "....It was..... so fucking weak. They must be frenzing. " Looking up at the huge dark hole in the sky Torre only frowned. "....Or something else is behind this.... " Seemingly not even afraid of these hollows, now that he knows just how weak they really were. " Still... this could get bad.... " Reminding himself on the kind of horde that still has yet to come, even those this weak were dangerous in huge numbers. Then again he looked at the what looked like menos grande's, just with red arms. "....Red arms? " 


Stats

SPOILER: Click to show

Current Stats- 1230 points.
Rank 1 Fighter V1.

Strength: 330 + 50% { 495 }
Speed: 300 +50% { 450 }
Instinct: 150
Reiatsu Strength: 100
Spiritual Pressure: 200 -25% {150 } { 1,500 }
Energy Sensory: 50
Senses: 100
Light Aura:10
Dark Aura: 90
Healing Expertise: 0 

[Akio Naito]

The would-be watcher wasn't about to argue with anything that was both fast enough to arrive and depart as Torre had, and polite enough not to simply stab him with that kind of mobility. He simply backed away from the beginning brawl by an extra meter or two, and began deeply regretting that he wouldn't be able to film whatever happened next, or even find a clearer viewing angle that felt safe. "Please, put on a good show." He asked, expecting to go unheard and unanswered. All that mattered to them was that this was going to be either highly entertaining or highly educational, ideally both.

...

It had been like a switch flipped from ominous dread to complete chaos. The lesser hollows were relatively sluggish with their reactions to Amare's presence, let alone the far more sudden presence of Torre, but the threat they would pose was not a function of their speed, their strength, or even their tactics. The threat was that ‘zombie movie’ quality, where the vast horde were instinctually coordinated enough not to claw, bite, and trample each other even as they all mobilized themselves towards the same prey. Each swaying, floating body raised a few arms as they began to attack. And all the while, the bridge just kept accumulating identical hollows. Whatever costs had been paid in creating them, they weren't so expensive as to limit their numbers just yet.

The clone hollow that Torre had struck effectively splattered, and faded into particles with no particular fanfare. There were plenty more that had already begun reaching towards them, some clawing with sweeping nails, others lashing out with the intent to grab onto the arrancar. While each fragile copy could only strike with about the force of an average human, the oncoming tide of countless glass-like limbs was't any less aggressive for that. Each member of the greater collective was trying their best to surround and overwhelm the intruder. All while one of the paired gillians loomed above, seemingly unwilling to strike directly while so many of its lesser kin were surrounding their intended target.

While Amare hadn't stepped into the mass of hollows yet, they wouldn't be safe for long. A flood of the cloned hollows glided directly towards them, each of them levitated just barely above the ground proper as they charged. More than that, the other of the identical gillians took up a position standing behind that oncoming wave, its cloak peeling back to reveal the same jellyfish-like arrangement of limbs as the smaller hollows. In a single motion, two crimson arms twisted tightly together, reared back, and snapped into the lashing motion of firing a bala. A single, spherical mass of crackling red energy that tore through the air towards the fullbringer. Not a particularly dangerous projectile, but still forceful enough to present a practical threat.

[Amare Mori]

Amare definitely didn't miss the booms that approached. Hey. That kinda sounds like-- And then a figure was in the air above Amare. Hair like fire, and the body of a trained athlete-- no. Not a trained athlete. A trained fighter. Amare caught a small scent of brimstone in the air. Is this one of the werecows that Asuka warned me about? He wondered briefly. He kinda looks a bit like the werecow she described... And not only that but he was super brusque! Telling Amare not to get in the way! And then calling a Hollow weak, right after he blew its head up with his fist!

"Umm.... Umm...." Amare slapped himself. Be cool Amare! Be cool! "Excuse me! You wouldn't happen to be the werecow Grimoire would you?" He called up at the arrancar that had just appeared, not being able to adequately see Torre's mask fragment in the darkness. "I won't get in your way! But I'm also not going to run away either! I'm going to fight these Hollows too!" He exclaimed. Granted. The real Grimoire probably would have killed Amare for daring to speak up like that. So it was a damn good thing Amare was an idiot, and not talking to the real Grimoire!

While Torre fought above, Amare would have to deal with the fight below. Unlike Torre, he had no Hierro to protect him, no ability to fire Bala or Cero. He had only the strength in his arms, Caliburn, and his fledgeling, developing talent at Soul Command. Alright... here goes! Amare lunged at the mass of Hollows that were sweeping towards him, but his eyes didn't miss the flash of red. Cero? No that's a Bala! Amare's sword dipped down defensively, catching the Bala on the flat of the blade. It was enough to stop his momentum, but unless the Bala had truly immense force it wouldn't blast through his defenses. "Nnngaaah!" Amare let out a grunt of exertion, placing both hands on Caliburn and attempting to repel the Bala right back into the mass of Hollows that was charging him. Even if this failed however, he'd still likely at least manage to deflect it aside harmlessly. The wave was upon him, but Amare didn't falter for a moment. The Hollows were moving predictably, and Amare's sword flashed, cut and hacked at the wave, aiming for the creatures' heads to split them in two, and kill them in a single decisive stroke.

Moving his arms to the limit, Amare's sword was like a silver whirlwind around him. Although his speed would not appear particularly impressive to Torre, to a normal human, his sword would have appeared to be in two or three places at once. There was little defense in Amare's motions. Or rather, little "pure" defense. His offense was his defense, ferocious cuts and thrusts designed to strike down or wound his enemies before they could reach and attack him. If Amare stopped to parry or block, then the other Hollows would swarm him and overrun him. He had to thin their numbers before they could do this. If a Hollow managed to get too close, Amare would throw a powerful kick into the creature to push it back and enable him to keep going. Above all else he couldn't let himself get surrounded. He fought with broad, chopping strokes now to keep the Hollow wave at bay and prevent them getting behind him. He was doing alright for the moment. Although he couldn't keep something like this up indefinitely, he could probably do fine for at least awhile....

[Torre Vulci]

The strangest time as Torre observed the near endless horde of hollows. The way they moved was something akin to a mindless horde, there was no seemingly singular being in charge. Except for the two gillians that seemed to move as if they were the leaders of this little fiasco. Quickly moving away from the horde in a zig zag kinda movement. " This is truly frustrati-" He said to himself before he heard the weirded set of words ever. Werecow. Just what in the hell is a Werecow? ".....The fuck did you say!? " What the hell was this guy? Some form of idiot? If so then how the hell did this guy even survive this long? 

At that he noticed the horde closing in causing him to groan out in frustration. Unsheathing his blade, he cut down the front layer of mindless hollows. Slashing them apart whether it was their masks or bodies, it didn't seem to matter to him. Quickly moving like a blur to everyone around and reappearing besides Amare. The veins of the arrancar glowing a faint white, and his normally ashen hair slowly turning red. " Either you fucking focus on the horde or get serious about this. If you don't, you can bet i'll just leave your ass here to die! " he noticed the deflection of the bala before. 

So clearly this Amare guy has some worth to him..... Right? 

By now it was clear, hopefully, that the arrancar threatening to leave his ass to defend this place by himself was just that. A arrancar, one from Las Noches. The bone pauldren on Torre's shoulder releasing a small puff of ashen colored smoke that reeked of sulfer. The arrancar had no physical " Mask " fragments on his face, but the shoulder pauldren was the remnants of his hollow days. Torre's zanpakuto having the handle of a longsword, but the blade of a scimitar that was as long as a longswords. The center of it being a bright yellow and orange, with the edge being a dark crimson designed to look like a roaring flame. 

" Can't believe im playing hero tonight.... " He scolded himself knowing that even if he wasn't he would rather do this anyway. He couldn't give less of a fuck about the human adults, but the young children. Something inside of him just couldn't allow them to be harmed, no matter how he feels about it. "...The two Red armed ones are the leaders. This horde is full of weaklings, so focus your fire on the two with red arms. " Despite it being a good calculated guess to them being the leaders, he still wasn't aware if they were gonna be the first to come or the last. 
"... Guess its one way for me to kill time while i wait for her to return... " He muttered softly under his breath before blurring from sight again. Reappearing in blurs as he makes his move towards the red armed gillian on the left. Slashing through the horde as they get in his way. 

[Akio Naito]

Somewhere, deep within whatever ambiguous intelligence was behind the identity-less horde, a single mote of confusion bubbled to the surface. Not even they had any idea why Amare would use that of all terms. Just where were Karakura's youth learning their terminology nowadays? Thankfully, a merciful universe had kept the other purveyor of a dense idiolect in the area too far away from the battle to converse, averting any further miscommunication, even in the event that it would turn out to have only been for the time being.

The bala had been rather large, given the size of the creature that fired it, but was knocked aside all the same, and crashed through several of the hollows approaching Amare. The explosion slows the mass down, but it is not enough to stop the living wave from crashing against their sword a moment later, never letting up in the flood of clawing limbs. At that point simply trying to wear them down with numbers and a lack of any lulls in the tide of somewhat-coordinated attacks, fully content to lose however many of their number, so long as each of them cost some shred of stamina from their intended prey. The menos-sized attacker began to move closer in response to its failed projectile.

The horde did no better against Torre, though they certainly tried. Between those two strangers, the number of generic hollows was decreasing even without an end to new arrivals. Hundreds of hands were seeking to drag down, immobilize, and shred, a few others fired bala through the gaps between their more melee-oriented duplicates. The duplicate gillain closer to them raised several arms on from under one side of its cloak, and drew them back before unleashing a series of claw-swipes towards the arrancar at slightly different angles. Four slashes, vertical, horizontal, and two between, one after the other in a continuous sequence.

The entire scene was becoming unfair, but not necessarily in favor of those with numbers. Even the steady drip of new generic souls from above was slowing down. Like fighting ants or bees, there was only so much a colony or network could achieve by adding more individuals to preform the task. The solution for insects was to specialize, and perhaps these identical hollows were similar? A common caste meant to collect souls and preform menial tasks could be differentiated from, say, a caste of warriors meant to handle inevitable conflict. If there was such a thing, it was definitely coming soon.