Post by Serraph Quarrere on Jul 15, 2022 7:48:40 GMT -5
(Training for this tech rpforumbleach.proboards.com/thread/11606/reversal-1-2-cinematic All remaining rewards after this I'd like to be put towards SP)
Serraph lounged within his private quarters amongst the shadows cast by dim, flickering lamp light. In the chair across from him rested a mirror and in it he saw himself. He gazed upon his features and compared it to the memory of himself from an era long past. He remembered that he was a frail child in his human life, with pale skin, steely grey eyes, and hair more silver than that of his grandparents. Thin and weak, but he through the terror of the london blitz he would be placed on a road that allowed him to shed it and become much much more.
The Sexta’s memory when compared to a normal hollow as astounding. The pain of the soul imploding and wrenching itself inside out due to the soul existing in a world light in spiritual pressure was enough for them to lose but the strongest of memories, but he’d remember it all. He remembered his desire for books and knowledge, wishing he could read them all, wishing he could experience each detailed recorded down on each page. This desire made him what he was today.
However, he remembered the rage and sorrow as the breakout of world war II took much of that away. A winged monster he’d terrorize battlefields, scorching battalions of soldiers axis and ally alike from the beaches of Normandy to the frozen wasteland of the russian front. His vengeance would be quenched on the field of battle, but not his own. He’d take the lives of those who could not fight back against a spectral being such as himself and to this day he still held a distaste for it all.
This dissatisfaction of straying from the path of his desire, his hunger for blood and carnage ever present as he evolved. It was frightening and in that existential horror he fled to Hueco Mundo, feeding on monsters akin to himself. War was great in creating hollows, so there was no short supply of them clinging to life in this blasted desert of a world. In his mindless wandering he would hear tales of a nation in the heart of Hueco Mundo, Los Noches. There Hollows could evolve and shed the agony of endless hunger and rebuild their lives. The catch? They would serve a Shinigami King, Lord Kouhai.
The name struck fear in many a hollow, but to Serraph, a new curiosity was kindled in his heart. He’d journey there, the uncovering of this legend exciting the relatively fresh hollow. He met with the previous Sexta there who took a liken to him. Serraph thought they could be friends. He appeared to be just as curious as him, but Serraph now new that it was all a lie, a deception. The previous Sexta had bid him to seek out a remnant of the old Warlords, Lady Seris, the Sanguine Queen, and slay her. Only then will Serraph reach the gates of Los Noches.
On his journey he’d evolve further, his form a horrific, ink bleeding angel of knowledge. His desire to know more of this Queen drove him mad. Weeks even months passed by and still he wandered. When he finally arrived to her enclave he was but a starving husk who lashed out at her subjects, but she’d subjigate him and take him in. He drank of her endless, intoxicating blood and gazed upon her regal form and found her beautiful.
Though his memory was infallible, he had forgotten his mission there at that moment. Was it her overwhelming power or was it her particular blood she fed to all her subjects. Looking back he realized it was her method of controlling them, bending their wills and desires to her own. He was entranced and to this day he couldn’t have wished for a better outcome. She’d nurture his growth and he’d gain her trust. He’d venture to the human world to fetch her human artifacts to amuse her and would throw his life on the line against any raiding party, hollow and shinigami alike.
Through her, he gained strength, and when her trusted lieutenant, Lord Bismark fell to an incurable Rampancy, he and the rest of her host were bid to stop him and bring back what rightly belonged to her, the remnant of one of the last oases. She had used them to stave off an incurable blight on her form that weakened her day by day. It was the only thing that could sate her then.
When Serraph came back empty handed, Bismarck and the rest of her subjects dead, he was stricken with grief and despair. Her lady would die by this ailment. In one last desperate attempt to save her, He’d devour her alive, his ink incapacitating her before she could bring her full might to bear against him. Looking back, she let him do this. Its effect on him was clearly evident. Her blood changed him, making him suitable for her. When he devoured her, the Queen’s soul moved to his body and coexisted.
His pale flesh would take on a warmer hue, one of his eyes would shift in hue to a bloody hue and his hair would take on the crimson not unlike what she had. The merger was so violent his mask would break in the process, making him the man he was today. The memories from that point on were hazy until he awoke here in his palace, an Espada tattoo emblazoned on his hip.
Serraph reached out and pressed his hand against the mirror. Nay, he didn’t just see himself in the mirror. He saw a woman, similar in his physical features but different. She was confident and noble with crimson eyes that spoke of her incredible age. When he first encountered this phenomenon with his reflection he thought it just a trick of the light, but as he continued to exist here he’d see it was much more. Her soul had reawakened and was stretching. It was aware and saw the world curiously through his eyes.
“I wondered how long it would take you to recognize me, My dear Serraph”, the voice spoke, the reflection smirking devilishly at him. The reflection continued to shift, becoming more feminine in appearance until he saw a woman, Seris. “Its good to see you havent gotten us killed yet. I did well in choosing you. You’ve become a worthy vessel for my spirit, but is it fair to describe you as such? A vessel’s soul would have yielded to mine, yet yours endured. I realize it would have been quite lonely without you, my dear.”
Serraph was speechless, but not surprised. He had his suspicions ever since he had arrived in Los Noches. He’d blink and turn his head away, a sudden feeling of shame casting over his face. “I had betrayed you. I had sworn myself to you. You took me in and in return I devoured you and your entirety. How can you be so cordial with a traitor and a coward such as myself?”
Seris rolled her eyes and took a glass into her hand out of seemingly nowhere. Serraph had glasses like those but he could have sworn he had them locked away, yet here she was, drinking deep a thick, crimson fluid. Had he not known better, he’d assume it was wine, but no, Serraph knew that it was blood. “Please. There are many things I have kept from you. I was already dying, this you knew, but I would have died that day anyway. Bismark knew this and was able to shake the leash I had on him. My only option was to harbor my spirit within another. Now, I didn’t expect your spirit to be so resilient when your body was so frail.”
“Must we speak of this now? What if my servants or comrades find out? Surely they’d want you purged. You’ve opposed Los Noches for ages and eluded them for ages more. Certainly they’d want you gone for good.”
“You worry too much. How would they purge me hm? My soul and yours are inseparable now and nearly indistinguishable. To destroy me is to be rid of you and i’ve seen the Espada through your eyes. They seem to like you. They see strength and potential in you, just as I do. They wouldn’t waste this opportunity as such things do not come to Los Noches that often I imagine. It was your words after all. ‘Strength seeketh Strength’” Seris laughed and sipped from her bloodwine, ancient eyes piercing through his gaze.
“Its time you learned of what happened when you came back to Los Noches. I imagine your memory of the event is quite hazy, there is a reason for this. Wouldn’t you like to see it from my perspective?”, she’d offer, her proud smirk widening. “Besides, you are tired. Why dont you lay back and let this memory lull you to sleep. Let Seris take over awhile while you sleep sleep sleep~”, she’d tease, seemingly reaching through the mirror at him.
Serraph blinked and sighed. It was true. He did feel a strange tiredness fall over him. His eyes drifted, and his heart felt heavy in his chest. He’d move himself to the bed and let his body fall back on it, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He had an idea of what she meant by ‘Let Seris take over’ but he’d have to see this memory she was recalling in his mind before he could make a judgement on it. Two souls in one body was exhausting. Serraph had to rest his eyes. As Serraphs eyes opened, Seris’s soul would fully awaken and pull Serraph’s consciousness to another scene, another time.
---
Pain. Every bit of his body ached and throbbed as he shambled his way closer and closer to Los Noches. He had remembered his mission, his goal. Serraph had slain the Sanguine Queen and would gain what was rightfully his, entrance to Los Noches and the the beginning of his new life of pursuing his scholarly interests, or that’s what Serraph’s slumbering thoughts gave off as Seris read them.
Inhabiting a body such as this had become foreign to her. Seris’s form as a hollow as massive and bulky with more than the standard human set of appendages yet here she was, relearning out to walk with human legs over this blasted desert in a body that wasn’t entirely hers. Her spirit had tried to devour Serraph’s, but it resisted and went dormant. This new body was strange. She felt small especially as she approached Los Noches which dwarfed all in Hueco Mundo. Seris pulled the cloak around her and hid her face in the shadow that the hood cast upon her.
As she approached the city at the meeting point that was dictated to Serraph by this so called Espada. If her hunch was correct, as it usually was, this low-life scum of a knight would not be able to tell the difference between herself and Serraph. Her obvious feminine form would give her away, but she chose to double up in a thick, hollow-skin cloak to cover everything. Her reiatsu signature was a bit different now. She had merged with Serraph afterall. Maybe he’d just think that the change was due to his evolution. Yes, that’d have to be the case.
As she approached the gate, a figure would make itself visible. It was tall, clad in a neat white coat with a rather ridiculously wide brimmed hat to cover his face. Still, he was strong. Strong enough to wear the rank of Espada. Seris knew what it took to be a part of this group. To join often enough an Arrancar would have to slay and succeed the desired rank. Such struggles were often bloody and bred viable warriors. Still, this one would not be ready for what she had in store for him.
The man approached her and stopped, his gloved hands slowly clapping in a mocking nature. “Well well well. I had almost forgotten I had met you. To think you actually seeked that myth. How many years have you been gone? I had thought you dead, but here you are to prove me wrong. Broke your mask to in your struggles have you? Did you think that’d be enough to come here? Did you think that it was enough for you to enter Los Noches?”, the Espada spat at the sand between them.
“I-I killed her. You agreed That’d I would have a place here, that you’d take me in.”, She’d retort weakly, struggling to mimic Serraph’s smooth voice. It took everything she had to not leap at him and rip his throat out. Serraph had trusted this man’s word and look what it would have brought him. She knew it’d break his heart. He hadn’t the wisdom yet to handle such lessons. She gripped her zanpakuto beneath her cloak but otherwise stood still. “She was real. She was strong, and through this trial I have gained strength. Y-you have to believe me. You promised.”
“Bullshit. You think yourself entitled enough to make demands of an Espada, the Sexta at that. To you I am a God. You should be prostrating yourself before me, not making a fool of yourself. If you weren’t so pathetically weak, I may have spared a bit of my time and and erased you, but you arn’t worth that much. I only came out here to confirm that you were still alive out of boredom and nothing more. Why don’t you go along now.”, he’d spit at the ground between them again and turn to walk away.
Seris fell to the sand, playing up the illusion that she had given up all hope in an attempt to inflate this Espada’s ego even further. But beneath the concealing cloak she was scheming and preparing. Her feet dug into the sand, making a firm place to kick off. Her crimson eyes looked for anything she could take advantage of. His spiritual pressure was impressive. Hell, he might even be stronger than Serraph’s, but she had the element of surprise. She knew he could feel the power she radiated, but assumed she didnt know how to use it. This would cost him his life. She saw that his Zanpakuto hung from his belt loosely and was positioned in a way that it’d be easy to draw. Seris was always impressed of Serraph’s speed and took a gamble that it translated to this new body.
She waited until the Espada couldn’t hear her until she spoke again. "Squardo verso il ciel saprai: Li a casa il cuore sentirai/ Gaze into the sky and you'll know that is where your heart will feel at home", She’d whisper, the command unlocking the sealed power within the cane that latched to her being. Pain erupted in her chest as her second heart burst to life and when wings began to rip her back asunder. She didnt wait for the transformation to finish before surging forward, bending the atmosphere to her will as she sonido’d, her hand grasping the hilt of the Espada’s blade and pulling it free as she sped past.
Had she waited, this combat would have been more troublesome than it was worth, but here she was, twirling another Arrancar’s Zanpakuto in her palm. How shameful it must bee to allow another to steal a vital piece of oneself so easily. It brought a grin to her face. As the Espada turned and realized what his happened, his eyes widened in disbelief and then frustration and anger as the facts fell into place. Before him stood a being that oozed a pitch black ink from her cloak with four outstretched wings pointing at him menacingly.
“I thought I wasn’t worth wasting energy on, mister. Surely your godlike strength alone should be enough to handle me. You dont need this toy, you’re good enough without it!”, she’d laugh and bury it in the sifting sands before charging at him. He stumbled back and bit his finger, drawing blood and pointing his hand out at her, a sparkling splendor of blue lightning charging in his grasp. He cursed spouted obscenities at her, but she’d block him out and sprint at him at a speed that caught him off guard.
“Gran Rey Cero!”, he’d scream, firing the incomplete blast early, but it would never meet her. Before it could hit, she had already sonido’d into the air, using her wings to position herself to dive at him at high speeds. The sand and smoke kicked up from the blast would mask her approach somewhat and she slammed into his gut, knocking him off his feet as they tumbled down a dune. He’d be smeared head to toe in her ink as the exchanged blows. His desperat punches and kicks not doing much to dislodge her. The fight might as well have been over now.
Her relatively weak hierro held on just enough to take the blows, but she’d be damned if he didn’t pack a punch. Her bloodied face bruised beneath the pale skin and her feather would be ripped away. She’d stab at him with a flurry of jabs from the sharp tips of her wings and he’d respond in kind to grabbing her jaw. “I’ve just had about enough of you, bitch. And to think i’d have to ruin a pretty face. It’s the only thing a piece of shit like you has going for it. Do me a favor and fuck off now.”
She could feel the cero charging tightly against her face. She’d squirm and stab at him, but he appeared to shake off what advantage of surprise she had. This was going to be the end, that is until she lashed out with her teeth and bit down between his thumb and fingers as hard as she could. He’d curse in visible pain and threw her, sending her tumbling and skidding across the sand. “I’ve given you courtesy enough”, he said, turning and beginning to walk towards her still prone body, but would experience muscle failure before he’d reach her, falling face first into the sand. Seris smirked and stood, approaching him in a manner not unlike his own stride.
“W-what, how?”
She’d answer by slamming her foot into his skull, her body crouching down to see his struggling face. The ink had taken effect and he had grown too weak to move. His strength had failed him and now Seris would be the victor. “No one dares hurt my Serraph and live to tell the tale. You thought to sweep his dream out from beneath him. With this final blow I’ll build him a new one. That poor hollow you sent to kill me out of a joke is here, pinning you to the ground and wouldn’t you believe that his ceros are just a little bit better than yours? Here, let me show you.”
She’d drop her hand face to just above his face, a black void of energy forming in her palm. He tried to resist, but whatever strained movement the Sexta made was pathetic, incapable of driving off the smallest hollow. Her grin widened with manic glee as she brought it closer, her wings stretching wide, ready to act when the blast was released. “Cero Oscuras~”, She’d state and the beam of black nothingness fired, slamming into the incapacitated Espada and driving him into the dunes whilst pushing back Seris into the air. Her wings flapped and stabilized her as she held the blast, determined to ensure nothing was left.
And surely enough it was gone. Only burnt scraps and and pieces of his flesh remained. Seris’s blast had nearly disintegrated him. She’d sigh and lower herself to the ground and begin walking into Los Noches, determined to find a safe place to rest. Firing that particular cero had put a strain on her rather frail body and the beating she took holding onto the man didn’t help things either. She’d find a corner in some dark tunnelway and slump her body against the wall, sliding down in a puddle of her inkish blood. Soon the release will reseal and she’d be thrust into a deep sleep along with her other.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you, Serraph~”
---
Serraph opened his eyes and rested his hand against his forehead. “I see. You fight like them”, he said with an almost jealous tone in his voice, but there lies his idea. His own mindset kept him from being stronger, but what if he could give her control for a bit? Surely his body would be good for it. It would reduce the stress on his portion of the soul and allow her much needed time to live. He could only imagine what it was like to be a prisoner for so many years within another. He had just the idea to bring her soul to the surface.
Seris wasa hollow infatuated with blood. She drank it and her old powers delt with it. Serraphs own abilities involve increasing his blood production to a superb degree and letting it spill from himself. Yes, he would make a blood sacrifice to her. A tub full of high quality blood with a sprinking of the remaining Oasis water he had in his possession should be more than enough to rotate his soul and allow her to take the reigns. He’d smile and drift back to sleep, amused with what he was able to come up with.
(im sure there are a lot of mistakes in this. I apologize, I stayed up all night writing this in one sitting. Im beat lol)
Serraph lounged within his private quarters amongst the shadows cast by dim, flickering lamp light. In the chair across from him rested a mirror and in it he saw himself. He gazed upon his features and compared it to the memory of himself from an era long past. He remembered that he was a frail child in his human life, with pale skin, steely grey eyes, and hair more silver than that of his grandparents. Thin and weak, but he through the terror of the london blitz he would be placed on a road that allowed him to shed it and become much much more.
The Sexta’s memory when compared to a normal hollow as astounding. The pain of the soul imploding and wrenching itself inside out due to the soul existing in a world light in spiritual pressure was enough for them to lose but the strongest of memories, but he’d remember it all. He remembered his desire for books and knowledge, wishing he could read them all, wishing he could experience each detailed recorded down on each page. This desire made him what he was today.
However, he remembered the rage and sorrow as the breakout of world war II took much of that away. A winged monster he’d terrorize battlefields, scorching battalions of soldiers axis and ally alike from the beaches of Normandy to the frozen wasteland of the russian front. His vengeance would be quenched on the field of battle, but not his own. He’d take the lives of those who could not fight back against a spectral being such as himself and to this day he still held a distaste for it all.
This dissatisfaction of straying from the path of his desire, his hunger for blood and carnage ever present as he evolved. It was frightening and in that existential horror he fled to Hueco Mundo, feeding on monsters akin to himself. War was great in creating hollows, so there was no short supply of them clinging to life in this blasted desert of a world. In his mindless wandering he would hear tales of a nation in the heart of Hueco Mundo, Los Noches. There Hollows could evolve and shed the agony of endless hunger and rebuild their lives. The catch? They would serve a Shinigami King, Lord Kouhai.
The name struck fear in many a hollow, but to Serraph, a new curiosity was kindled in his heart. He’d journey there, the uncovering of this legend exciting the relatively fresh hollow. He met with the previous Sexta there who took a liken to him. Serraph thought they could be friends. He appeared to be just as curious as him, but Serraph now new that it was all a lie, a deception. The previous Sexta had bid him to seek out a remnant of the old Warlords, Lady Seris, the Sanguine Queen, and slay her. Only then will Serraph reach the gates of Los Noches.
On his journey he’d evolve further, his form a horrific, ink bleeding angel of knowledge. His desire to know more of this Queen drove him mad. Weeks even months passed by and still he wandered. When he finally arrived to her enclave he was but a starving husk who lashed out at her subjects, but she’d subjigate him and take him in. He drank of her endless, intoxicating blood and gazed upon her regal form and found her beautiful.
Though his memory was infallible, he had forgotten his mission there at that moment. Was it her overwhelming power or was it her particular blood she fed to all her subjects. Looking back he realized it was her method of controlling them, bending their wills and desires to her own. He was entranced and to this day he couldn’t have wished for a better outcome. She’d nurture his growth and he’d gain her trust. He’d venture to the human world to fetch her human artifacts to amuse her and would throw his life on the line against any raiding party, hollow and shinigami alike.
Through her, he gained strength, and when her trusted lieutenant, Lord Bismark fell to an incurable Rampancy, he and the rest of her host were bid to stop him and bring back what rightly belonged to her, the remnant of one of the last oases. She had used them to stave off an incurable blight on her form that weakened her day by day. It was the only thing that could sate her then.
When Serraph came back empty handed, Bismarck and the rest of her subjects dead, he was stricken with grief and despair. Her lady would die by this ailment. In one last desperate attempt to save her, He’d devour her alive, his ink incapacitating her before she could bring her full might to bear against him. Looking back, she let him do this. Its effect on him was clearly evident. Her blood changed him, making him suitable for her. When he devoured her, the Queen’s soul moved to his body and coexisted.
His pale flesh would take on a warmer hue, one of his eyes would shift in hue to a bloody hue and his hair would take on the crimson not unlike what she had. The merger was so violent his mask would break in the process, making him the man he was today. The memories from that point on were hazy until he awoke here in his palace, an Espada tattoo emblazoned on his hip.
Serraph reached out and pressed his hand against the mirror. Nay, he didn’t just see himself in the mirror. He saw a woman, similar in his physical features but different. She was confident and noble with crimson eyes that spoke of her incredible age. When he first encountered this phenomenon with his reflection he thought it just a trick of the light, but as he continued to exist here he’d see it was much more. Her soul had reawakened and was stretching. It was aware and saw the world curiously through his eyes.
“I wondered how long it would take you to recognize me, My dear Serraph”, the voice spoke, the reflection smirking devilishly at him. The reflection continued to shift, becoming more feminine in appearance until he saw a woman, Seris. “Its good to see you havent gotten us killed yet. I did well in choosing you. You’ve become a worthy vessel for my spirit, but is it fair to describe you as such? A vessel’s soul would have yielded to mine, yet yours endured. I realize it would have been quite lonely without you, my dear.”
Serraph was speechless, but not surprised. He had his suspicions ever since he had arrived in Los Noches. He’d blink and turn his head away, a sudden feeling of shame casting over his face. “I had betrayed you. I had sworn myself to you. You took me in and in return I devoured you and your entirety. How can you be so cordial with a traitor and a coward such as myself?”
Seris rolled her eyes and took a glass into her hand out of seemingly nowhere. Serraph had glasses like those but he could have sworn he had them locked away, yet here she was, drinking deep a thick, crimson fluid. Had he not known better, he’d assume it was wine, but no, Serraph knew that it was blood. “Please. There are many things I have kept from you. I was already dying, this you knew, but I would have died that day anyway. Bismark knew this and was able to shake the leash I had on him. My only option was to harbor my spirit within another. Now, I didn’t expect your spirit to be so resilient when your body was so frail.”
“Must we speak of this now? What if my servants or comrades find out? Surely they’d want you purged. You’ve opposed Los Noches for ages and eluded them for ages more. Certainly they’d want you gone for good.”
“You worry too much. How would they purge me hm? My soul and yours are inseparable now and nearly indistinguishable. To destroy me is to be rid of you and i’ve seen the Espada through your eyes. They seem to like you. They see strength and potential in you, just as I do. They wouldn’t waste this opportunity as such things do not come to Los Noches that often I imagine. It was your words after all. ‘Strength seeketh Strength’” Seris laughed and sipped from her bloodwine, ancient eyes piercing through his gaze.
“Its time you learned of what happened when you came back to Los Noches. I imagine your memory of the event is quite hazy, there is a reason for this. Wouldn’t you like to see it from my perspective?”, she’d offer, her proud smirk widening. “Besides, you are tired. Why dont you lay back and let this memory lull you to sleep. Let Seris take over awhile while you sleep sleep sleep~”, she’d tease, seemingly reaching through the mirror at him.
Serraph blinked and sighed. It was true. He did feel a strange tiredness fall over him. His eyes drifted, and his heart felt heavy in his chest. He’d move himself to the bed and let his body fall back on it, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He had an idea of what she meant by ‘Let Seris take over’ but he’d have to see this memory she was recalling in his mind before he could make a judgement on it. Two souls in one body was exhausting. Serraph had to rest his eyes. As Serraphs eyes opened, Seris’s soul would fully awaken and pull Serraph’s consciousness to another scene, another time.
---
Pain. Every bit of his body ached and throbbed as he shambled his way closer and closer to Los Noches. He had remembered his mission, his goal. Serraph had slain the Sanguine Queen and would gain what was rightfully his, entrance to Los Noches and the the beginning of his new life of pursuing his scholarly interests, or that’s what Serraph’s slumbering thoughts gave off as Seris read them.
Inhabiting a body such as this had become foreign to her. Seris’s form as a hollow as massive and bulky with more than the standard human set of appendages yet here she was, relearning out to walk with human legs over this blasted desert in a body that wasn’t entirely hers. Her spirit had tried to devour Serraph’s, but it resisted and went dormant. This new body was strange. She felt small especially as she approached Los Noches which dwarfed all in Hueco Mundo. Seris pulled the cloak around her and hid her face in the shadow that the hood cast upon her.
As she approached the city at the meeting point that was dictated to Serraph by this so called Espada. If her hunch was correct, as it usually was, this low-life scum of a knight would not be able to tell the difference between herself and Serraph. Her obvious feminine form would give her away, but she chose to double up in a thick, hollow-skin cloak to cover everything. Her reiatsu signature was a bit different now. She had merged with Serraph afterall. Maybe he’d just think that the change was due to his evolution. Yes, that’d have to be the case.
As she approached the gate, a figure would make itself visible. It was tall, clad in a neat white coat with a rather ridiculously wide brimmed hat to cover his face. Still, he was strong. Strong enough to wear the rank of Espada. Seris knew what it took to be a part of this group. To join often enough an Arrancar would have to slay and succeed the desired rank. Such struggles were often bloody and bred viable warriors. Still, this one would not be ready for what she had in store for him.
The man approached her and stopped, his gloved hands slowly clapping in a mocking nature. “Well well well. I had almost forgotten I had met you. To think you actually seeked that myth. How many years have you been gone? I had thought you dead, but here you are to prove me wrong. Broke your mask to in your struggles have you? Did you think that’d be enough to come here? Did you think that it was enough for you to enter Los Noches?”, the Espada spat at the sand between them.
“I-I killed her. You agreed That’d I would have a place here, that you’d take me in.”, She’d retort weakly, struggling to mimic Serraph’s smooth voice. It took everything she had to not leap at him and rip his throat out. Serraph had trusted this man’s word and look what it would have brought him. She knew it’d break his heart. He hadn’t the wisdom yet to handle such lessons. She gripped her zanpakuto beneath her cloak but otherwise stood still. “She was real. She was strong, and through this trial I have gained strength. Y-you have to believe me. You promised.”
“Bullshit. You think yourself entitled enough to make demands of an Espada, the Sexta at that. To you I am a God. You should be prostrating yourself before me, not making a fool of yourself. If you weren’t so pathetically weak, I may have spared a bit of my time and and erased you, but you arn’t worth that much. I only came out here to confirm that you were still alive out of boredom and nothing more. Why don’t you go along now.”, he’d spit at the ground between them again and turn to walk away.
Seris fell to the sand, playing up the illusion that she had given up all hope in an attempt to inflate this Espada’s ego even further. But beneath the concealing cloak she was scheming and preparing. Her feet dug into the sand, making a firm place to kick off. Her crimson eyes looked for anything she could take advantage of. His spiritual pressure was impressive. Hell, he might even be stronger than Serraph’s, but she had the element of surprise. She knew he could feel the power she radiated, but assumed she didnt know how to use it. This would cost him his life. She saw that his Zanpakuto hung from his belt loosely and was positioned in a way that it’d be easy to draw. Seris was always impressed of Serraph’s speed and took a gamble that it translated to this new body.
She waited until the Espada couldn’t hear her until she spoke again. "Squardo verso il ciel saprai: Li a casa il cuore sentirai/ Gaze into the sky and you'll know that is where your heart will feel at home", She’d whisper, the command unlocking the sealed power within the cane that latched to her being. Pain erupted in her chest as her second heart burst to life and when wings began to rip her back asunder. She didnt wait for the transformation to finish before surging forward, bending the atmosphere to her will as she sonido’d, her hand grasping the hilt of the Espada’s blade and pulling it free as she sped past.
Had she waited, this combat would have been more troublesome than it was worth, but here she was, twirling another Arrancar’s Zanpakuto in her palm. How shameful it must bee to allow another to steal a vital piece of oneself so easily. It brought a grin to her face. As the Espada turned and realized what his happened, his eyes widened in disbelief and then frustration and anger as the facts fell into place. Before him stood a being that oozed a pitch black ink from her cloak with four outstretched wings pointing at him menacingly.
“I thought I wasn’t worth wasting energy on, mister. Surely your godlike strength alone should be enough to handle me. You dont need this toy, you’re good enough without it!”, she’d laugh and bury it in the sifting sands before charging at him. He stumbled back and bit his finger, drawing blood and pointing his hand out at her, a sparkling splendor of blue lightning charging in his grasp. He cursed spouted obscenities at her, but she’d block him out and sprint at him at a speed that caught him off guard.
“Gran Rey Cero!”, he’d scream, firing the incomplete blast early, but it would never meet her. Before it could hit, she had already sonido’d into the air, using her wings to position herself to dive at him at high speeds. The sand and smoke kicked up from the blast would mask her approach somewhat and she slammed into his gut, knocking him off his feet as they tumbled down a dune. He’d be smeared head to toe in her ink as the exchanged blows. His desperat punches and kicks not doing much to dislodge her. The fight might as well have been over now.
Her relatively weak hierro held on just enough to take the blows, but she’d be damned if he didn’t pack a punch. Her bloodied face bruised beneath the pale skin and her feather would be ripped away. She’d stab at him with a flurry of jabs from the sharp tips of her wings and he’d respond in kind to grabbing her jaw. “I’ve just had about enough of you, bitch. And to think i’d have to ruin a pretty face. It’s the only thing a piece of shit like you has going for it. Do me a favor and fuck off now.”
She could feel the cero charging tightly against her face. She’d squirm and stab at him, but he appeared to shake off what advantage of surprise she had. This was going to be the end, that is until she lashed out with her teeth and bit down between his thumb and fingers as hard as she could. He’d curse in visible pain and threw her, sending her tumbling and skidding across the sand. “I’ve given you courtesy enough”, he said, turning and beginning to walk towards her still prone body, but would experience muscle failure before he’d reach her, falling face first into the sand. Seris smirked and stood, approaching him in a manner not unlike his own stride.
“W-what, how?”
She’d answer by slamming her foot into his skull, her body crouching down to see his struggling face. The ink had taken effect and he had grown too weak to move. His strength had failed him and now Seris would be the victor. “No one dares hurt my Serraph and live to tell the tale. You thought to sweep his dream out from beneath him. With this final blow I’ll build him a new one. That poor hollow you sent to kill me out of a joke is here, pinning you to the ground and wouldn’t you believe that his ceros are just a little bit better than yours? Here, let me show you.”
She’d drop her hand face to just above his face, a black void of energy forming in her palm. He tried to resist, but whatever strained movement the Sexta made was pathetic, incapable of driving off the smallest hollow. Her grin widened with manic glee as she brought it closer, her wings stretching wide, ready to act when the blast was released. “Cero Oscuras~”, She’d state and the beam of black nothingness fired, slamming into the incapacitated Espada and driving him into the dunes whilst pushing back Seris into the air. Her wings flapped and stabilized her as she held the blast, determined to ensure nothing was left.
And surely enough it was gone. Only burnt scraps and and pieces of his flesh remained. Seris’s blast had nearly disintegrated him. She’d sigh and lower herself to the ground and begin walking into Los Noches, determined to find a safe place to rest. Firing that particular cero had put a strain on her rather frail body and the beating she took holding onto the man didn’t help things either. She’d find a corner in some dark tunnelway and slump her body against the wall, sliding down in a puddle of her inkish blood. Soon the release will reseal and she’d be thrust into a deep sleep along with her other.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you, Serraph~”
---
Serraph opened his eyes and rested his hand against his forehead. “I see. You fight like them”, he said with an almost jealous tone in his voice, but there lies his idea. His own mindset kept him from being stronger, but what if he could give her control for a bit? Surely his body would be good for it. It would reduce the stress on his portion of the soul and allow her much needed time to live. He could only imagine what it was like to be a prisoner for so many years within another. He had just the idea to bring her soul to the surface.
Seris wasa hollow infatuated with blood. She drank it and her old powers delt with it. Serraphs own abilities involve increasing his blood production to a superb degree and letting it spill from himself. Yes, he would make a blood sacrifice to her. A tub full of high quality blood with a sprinking of the remaining Oasis water he had in his possession should be more than enough to rotate his soul and allow her to take the reigns. He’d smile and drift back to sleep, amused with what he was able to come up with.
(im sure there are a lot of mistakes in this. I apologize, I stayed up all night writing this in one sitting. Im beat lol)
