Post by Satoshi Kazuhiko on Nov 7, 2022 19:58:29 GMT -5
Name: Search and Rescue
Participants: Satoshi Kazuhiko, Rizer
Location: Rukongai, North District 80
Threat Level: NDE
_________________
It was just a short while ago that the Soul Society found itself under invasion by a race known as the Hellions. A destructive battle ensued, leaving the citizens of Rukongai to suffer the consequences. Amongst the 320 districts of Rukongai, the inner districts were least effected. Being closer to the center of Soul Society allowed for speedier response times from the divisions responsible for their repair and maintenance. But the further away from district 1 you got, the less support was received. While Shinigami are responsible for the care and defense of all of the districts of Rukongai, resources become harder and harder to allocate for those further out. Even leading some of the denizens to feel as though they must fend for themselves entirely.
Today's story begins in North District 80. The furthest North District and the most lawless and volatile of its' quadrant. And one that was most affected by the violence conjured during the invasion of the Hellions.
_________________
For once Kazuhiko's strange attire didn't look so out of place in the ramshackle district that was North 80. Small and slender, he fit in with the street urchin's who had to steal to eat. His uniform fit him like it was stolen. It's configuration was unique. He wore two kosode, or robes, rather than one. The interior kosode was reinforced by a shitagi, or undershirt. It fit well enough and was secured by a white belt. But rather than the black of a typical shinigami, the kosode and hakama beneath it were pure white, while it was the shitagi that was black.
The second kosode hung off of his shoulders as if he were wearing his fathers clothes. Ill-fitting, it's ends even stretched slightly past the bottoms of his hakama. Its sleeves were clearly suited for a larger man, as it hid both of his arms entirely, much like a chinese vampire. However, the blush of health upon his dark skin and the vibrant cool blue of his eyes which shone through the lenses of his glasses that gave away the life of relative luxury he lived. This, and the cleanliness of his blonde hair.
His left hand rested upon the hilt of his Zanpaktou. A weapon that fit him just as poorly as his clothing. The sheath that was tucked into his belt was far too large for a boy of his size. It stretched out a comical four feet in length. The tip of the scabbard just barely, supernaturally, avoided dragging upon the dirt roads of the impoverished area. It was far too large to be a regular Katana. It was an Odachi. A Nodachi's older brother. And it was nearly as large as he was. And it marked him as a member of Soul Society's shinigami.
"Oh my..." He lamented as his sandals churned up the dust beneath his feet. Some of the homes here were little more than lean-to's. Their structures precariously balanced and housing families that looked away when his eyes set upon them. But there were many structures that had collapsed entirely. Their precarious structural integrity had been easily upset and they had collapsed in on themselves, if they weren't obliterated entirely. He had heard about the plight of the outskirt districts, and this was exactly why he was here. As a member of Squad 4 he sought to save as many people as possible. And no peoples were in need of more saving than those in these lawless badlands. Though the invasion had ended, the reconstruction had only just begun. And any number of these destroyed hovels could house trapped denizens of Soul Society!
Participants: Satoshi Kazuhiko, Rizer
Location: Rukongai, North District 80
Threat Level: NDE
_________________
It was just a short while ago that the Soul Society found itself under invasion by a race known as the Hellions. A destructive battle ensued, leaving the citizens of Rukongai to suffer the consequences. Amongst the 320 districts of Rukongai, the inner districts were least effected. Being closer to the center of Soul Society allowed for speedier response times from the divisions responsible for their repair and maintenance. But the further away from district 1 you got, the less support was received. While Shinigami are responsible for the care and defense of all of the districts of Rukongai, resources become harder and harder to allocate for those further out. Even leading some of the denizens to feel as though they must fend for themselves entirely.
Today's story begins in North District 80. The furthest North District and the most lawless and volatile of its' quadrant. And one that was most affected by the violence conjured during the invasion of the Hellions.
_________________
For once Kazuhiko's strange attire didn't look so out of place in the ramshackle district that was North 80. Small and slender, he fit in with the street urchin's who had to steal to eat. His uniform fit him like it was stolen. It's configuration was unique. He wore two kosode, or robes, rather than one. The interior kosode was reinforced by a shitagi, or undershirt. It fit well enough and was secured by a white belt. But rather than the black of a typical shinigami, the kosode and hakama beneath it were pure white, while it was the shitagi that was black.
The second kosode hung off of his shoulders as if he were wearing his fathers clothes. Ill-fitting, it's ends even stretched slightly past the bottoms of his hakama. Its sleeves were clearly suited for a larger man, as it hid both of his arms entirely, much like a chinese vampire. However, the blush of health upon his dark skin and the vibrant cool blue of his eyes which shone through the lenses of his glasses that gave away the life of relative luxury he lived. This, and the cleanliness of his blonde hair.
His left hand rested upon the hilt of his Zanpaktou. A weapon that fit him just as poorly as his clothing. The sheath that was tucked into his belt was far too large for a boy of his size. It stretched out a comical four feet in length. The tip of the scabbard just barely, supernaturally, avoided dragging upon the dirt roads of the impoverished area. It was far too large to be a regular Katana. It was an Odachi. A Nodachi's older brother. And it was nearly as large as he was. And it marked him as a member of Soul Society's shinigami.
"Oh my..." He lamented as his sandals churned up the dust beneath his feet. Some of the homes here were little more than lean-to's. Their structures precariously balanced and housing families that looked away when his eyes set upon them. But there were many structures that had collapsed entirely. Their precarious structural integrity had been easily upset and they had collapsed in on themselves, if they weren't obliterated entirely. He had heard about the plight of the outskirt districts, and this was exactly why he was here. As a member of Squad 4 he sought to save as many people as possible. And no peoples were in need of more saving than those in these lawless badlands. Though the invasion had ended, the reconstruction had only just begun. And any number of these destroyed hovels could house trapped denizens of Soul Society!