Whatever Happens (Don't) be True to Yourself

[Akio Naito]

Name: [Whatever Happens (Don't) be True to Yourself]

Participants: [Akio Naito and Akira Hinosai]

Location: [Streets of Karakura]

Plotline: [Moody goth vizard and melancholic mainstream quincy meet when both of them show up to slay the same hollow]

Starts: [Now]

[Akio Naito]

It was just another day in Karakura's warm summer months. The sky was bright despite being mostly cloudy, the birds had gathered up in little rows on their telephone wires, and there was yet another lesser hollow roaming the streets for souls to devour. An older plus dressed in business attire fled in terror as a masked soul pursued mere steps behind. The hollow was a large humanoid with forward curving horns, every few steps it raised one of its featureless cylindrical arms and swung them down like brutal clubs. Each powerful strike less of a near miss than the last. Another minute or so and it would join the everyday tragedies that persistently haunted that town in particular. Unless someone intervened in the next minute or so, the hollow would have its prey. Thankfully, intervening in hollow attacks was something of a local specialty.

Someone watched as the unfolding tragedy passed through an intersection, then heaved a sigh as he walked around the corner and stood behind the hollow. A young man who wore a well-fit waistcoat slacks, with the odd addition of a loose green jacket that had clearly been two or three sizes too big for him. Without even considering his options in the situation, Akio raised his arm to the sky as reishi gathered around his hand is loose, lazy coils. "Heavenly serpent, descend to the sacred tree!" The gathered reishi condensed into streams of water as he spoke, surged forth in a wave as he swung his arm down, and ultimately crashed into the hollow's back where it left both a wound and a binding. Lingering threads of reishi that held the masked soul immobilized. It roared in rage, forced to watch as its prey escape while also burdened with the knowledge of an enemy at their back.

It would have been surprising if a shinigami didn't show up with the combination of panicked screaming, mystical shouting, bestial roaring, and blatant reiatsu use going on.

[Akira Hinosai]

There was a common sentiment in squad 12 that there were no failed experiments. The reasoning was that even if the desired results weren't produced, you still probably learned something. Either a personal lesson or some data that could be pawned off to someone else. Of course, by definition that meant there were failed experiments. They were just rarer than one would think. Going with that logic, Akira must have been a pioneer in discovering failure. As far as he could tell, absolutely nothing was gained from his tracking of hell reiatsu in Karakura Town. Nothing useful anyway. Hell reiatsu wasn't having any affects on the human populace. Maybe if a hellion mated with a human, but facilitating that seemed a little unethical for Akira's tastes.

He poured over the data one last time. It was possible he could do something with this, even if it wasn't as groundbreaking as finally discovering proof of humans being mutated by exposure to hell reiatsu. It had been a stupid dream, anyway. The sort of thing a person comes up with when they've got no worries in the world. Even if Project Tiefling could be repurposed for anything, Akira didn't care to waste any more time on it. If I stay the course I am dead. A chill ran up Akira's spine. There was only one thing that mattered. Getting stronger. He couldn't lose sight of that. Not when his past was finally catching up to him.

Mikaboshi. The sword's name is Mikaboshi. Akira repeated to himself as if he was liable to forget it. He held the hilt with a white knuckle grip. Mikaboshi. The sword's name is Mikaboshi. Pulling the plug on a failed experiment wasn't Akira's only reason for returning to Karakura. No. He had to run inventory, and get his barrings. If his past was catching up to him, he needed to know where he stood. Eve was right about something. He couldn't count on anyone but himself to save him. When judgement day came, it would be one on one. Only this time if Akira fucked up, it would be his last. The stakes were higher than death. Death meant rebirth. Losing to Eve meant the end of everything. His identity would be erased. He would be deleted, and a new game would start with Eve as the protagonist. Akira shuddered at the mere thought of it.

So, first thing was first. He had to figure out what his zanpakuto did. He had the name. Now he just had to figure out what the hell it even did. Akira felt power course through him. It was a faint echo of the power he held as a human, but it was something. Just beneath the surface, waiting to be released. The next hollow I see is gonna regret it... Well, unless it was that one, but Akira didn't want to think about that right now. He left the dead drop and scanned his surroundings. When you know where to look, there was always a fight to be had in Karakura. Fortunately, Akira did know where to look. He closed his eyes and truly saw the city, all the traces of energy like sparks in a bonfire.

"Aw fuck!" It was like he'd been flashbanged. Akira opened his eyes, not expecting to see such a potent discharge of reiatsu so soon, nor feel it so vividly. Peering beyond the veil would take some getting used to. For now though, he had his target. Akira made a mad dash towards the reiatsu discharge. Whatever made those waves wasn't an average hollow. No. They might just prove to be a challenge! Akira ran headlong into danger, not caring what awaited him. Even if he got his ass kicked, he'd rise again stronger than before. Nothing mattered besides getting to his target. When Akira reached the sordid scene he was... more confused than anything.

"Sorry I'm late to the party, boys. Traffic was crazy." Akira hid his surprise as best he could. This definitely wasn't what he was picturing. His first instinct was that a strong hollow was attacking something. He hadn't expected that the "attack" he felt to have been against the hollow. The battle was over before he even got here. "That hollow's weak as shit, which means..." Akira looked at the sharply dressed man. "You're what I was sensing." The thin white duke cosplayer felt...off. Wrong, somehow, as though he were a stain on the tapestry of Karakura's energy signatures. Not a fullbringer or a quincy. Whatever he was, he was different. It was like nothing Akira ever felt before. Weird, but there was still the matter of the immobilized hollow.

"Do you mind? I hate to steal your kill but, uh, you know it's part of the job..." Akira smiled, trying to look charming. He motioned towards his zanpakuto. He hoped this guy would at least know what shinigami did. If given permission, Akira would perform the konso completely dispassionately. For him it was just an aspect of the job, like stocking shelves or doing paperwork. However, if denied, he would not push the matter, which may seem odd for a shinigami. Either way, when the matter of the hollow was settled. Akira would indulge his curiosity. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking...What exactly are you?"

SPOILER: Click to show

{Akiras outfit for the thread (im experimenting with this format) }
Makeup: winged eyeliner, black lipstick
Outfit: Sleeveless shihakusho
accessories: wayfarer sunglasses, occult talisman, silver chain bracelets. several skull rings, also black painted nails

[Akio Naito]

While the comparison to a Bowie persona would have gone over Akio's head if someone had actually said it out loud, the parallels were still there no matter how unintentional on his part. The mismatched eyes didn't exactly help on that front, did they? Nor did the deeply unhealthy behavior patterns. What did do a bit to distance him from that look were his attempts at practically, the gauze handwraps he hoped would be enough to stave off a hollow's burning touch, and the baggy green jacket he'd chosen mostly for its concealing nature. Oversized to cover the bands he wore on his upper arms, to conceal the spiritual tools he carried even if they were as big as Reichlich stakes, and to give the feeling he could pull the hood up and hide his face when he didn't want to be seen. It was also good at billowing in the wind kicked up by his reiatsu whenever he charged up a larger technique, and really if he had chosen to be a spellcaster he may as well indulge in the aesthetic of one.

He'd been staring at the struggling hollow's back since he cast his spell, but for some fleeting fraction of second Akio felt as though he could see his past self even further down that street. The memory of his lost powers still haunted him, even when he knew they would have been useless against a hollow. He really hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but there was a real chance that he'd surpass that image without getting back a single piece of what he'd actually lost. It wasn't like the Ise shrine being rebuilt with new wood from the same forest, or that one greek ship that had all of it's component pieces replaced. This was more like planting a tree in memory of a collapsed house. I should not dwell on this. Right, shimoku was only a short-term binding. While he wasn't sure if he could use the term mastered for a spell of his own creation, that the restraining effects had worked made it that he'd reached the limits of what he could do with it. He had to get his next attack in before the spell broke.

Akio froze up as soon as he'd heard someone speak, interrupting the earliest preparations of a second attack. The new arrival had his attention, and that they were a shinigami had been obvious by their clothing. Equally obvious were the modifications the shinigami had made to their uniform, it vaguely reminded him of the masked man with the foreign name before. Then the new arrival had surprised him by asking for the right to slay the restrained hollow. The surprise being that they had made a request rather than simply drawing their blade and taking it. Perhaps the more modern additions to their garb denoted a less violent sect of the soul reapers than those who dressed only in the orthodox attire of their kind? But then what would that imply about the wielder of Revenant, a violent god that had abandoned the uniform of their kind completely? He wasn't in a position to ask, so that would have to remain a mystery.

As the situation was, he wasn't exactly in a position to deny the shinigami's request, either. It hadn't been anything resembling an unreasonable demand, especially coming from a divine being. Beyond that, the quality of the binding's component reishi threads was deteriorating too fast for the multiple castings of hashira he'd need, and Akio was far too hesitant to draw any tools from his pockets in the black-clothed spirit's presence. "Please, go ahead." The fading restraints endured just barely long enough for the shinigami to do their job, after which they collapsed back into the loose particles from whence they'd been woven. It saddened him just a bit to see his arts fade away so easily.

Akio bowed as he provided the best answer he could for the shinigami's question. That it was a self-deprecating answer, and that he delivered it with a faux-cheery tone normally reserved for customers, were both attempts to make it clear he didn't pose a threat. "Merely a mystic with knowledge of a few basic spells. I have no other talents worth speaking of." He'd actually spent a good few nights struggling to find a good label for what he was and what he did. There had been nights where he tried more technical jargon like magic user or something poetic like sacred artist, but mystic had felt like a better label for the gray area of science, faith, and sorcery that he'd been thriving in. His lack of other talents was just the blunt truth of things, at least on the supernatural front. Reishi-domination and the spellcraft derived from it were all he had. He lacked any affinity for dolls like the one his employer used, nor did he have any for the full manifestation art like his coworker at the time castle. He didn't have the heritage or culture to call himself a quincy.

[Akira Hinosai]

So far, so good. Whoever this person was, they didn't seem to have a problem with the shinigami. Akira had never been Mr. Popular at the best of times, but this black robe certainly didn't help matters. Everyone seemed to have their own ideas about what the shinigami did. The less they knew about the shinigami, the more opinions they seemed to have. It was a welcome change of pace for Akira to be allowed to do his job without listening to sermons from screaming children. There was still plenty of time for this meeting to south. Akira wasn't getting his hopes up, but he'd already passed the biggest hurdle. The sharply dressed stranger didn't seem offended by the question, though he did see fit to deflect with some self deprecating bullshit.

Either he doesn't know what he is, or is intentionally obfuscating. Akira wasn't letting his guard down until he knew what was up with this guy. Maybe not even then. Either way, Akira didn't figure he'd get much by grilling this man for answers. The stranger's powerset was a matter of personal interest, not mission critical intelligence. Besides, there were far more subtle ways for Akira to get what he wanted. The man claimed to be a spellcaster. That would do just nicely. "You know, I'm something of a spellcaster myself." Akira placed his hands on his hips. He eyed the ambiguous humanoid up and down. "Maybe this wasn't a total loss after all."

"I don't doubt you've picked up a few tricks in Karakura. If you don't mind, I'd quite like to see them." Akira turned up the charm as best he could. He figured a dork like this would appreciate being treated with respect If Akira wanted to get anything out of this guy, being himself was a liability. It always was. "You wouldn't be working for free, mind you. The academy trained me well. Maybe I could teach you some things in return. So, what do you say?" By all accounts, it was a fair trade, even if Akira's congenial nature was just an act. Another practitioner of the magical arts could give Akira a power boost if nothing else. Considering the upcoming battle for Akira's soul, he'd need every bit of help he could. Even if that help came from unlikely places.  There were things different groups could learn from eachother. New ideas and methods, something that could give Akira an edge.

However, there was a chance Akira could learn more about the stranger. This man might be ignorant of the wider spiritual world, but Akira wasn't. He could tell a bount from a mod soul with his eyes closed. If Akira just had more to go on, he could learn just what this guy was hiding. The stranger was powerful, and almost alien in his use of that power. Akira wanted to see just how deep the rabbit hole went. Project Tiefling may have been a failure, but this could be the eureka moment Akira was waiting for. Akira would wait for the man to give an answer to his offer. He was entirely confident the guy would fall for it hook line and sinker.

After all, who wouldn't like a little more power?

[Akio Naito]

Academy? Do they mean a school that teaches kido? Akio was aware of the numbered spells that shinigami wielded alongside their blades. He was not aware of what those numbers represented or how high they actually went, though assuming that they were only one per number and every number from one to the highest was represented that was still a staggering variety of kido that he couldn't even begin to imagine. The question that came to mind was just how many of those did this shinigami know to consider themselves 'something of a spellcaster'? Even if it were in the realm of ten to twenty, that was far more than what he had to offer from his own meager array of two fuusuishi spells and the four spiritual tools he'd crafted. And now this shinigami, an actual god, asking for his insights and offering to teach him? It felt nice to have something in common with a divine being, so long as he didn't get caught up in the moment and fail what he saw as some kind of hubris test.

There was really only one way Akio could respond to an offer like he'd just received. "No need to offer payment. If you desire a demonstration of my spellcasting ability, you can have it. Please, stand back." He did his best to stay polite. Hard to hide how he felt that he'd probably disappointed the shinigami already, this would go better if he managed their expectations before he did that a second time. Slowly, carefully, he took four steps away from the shinigami. His back was left exposed until he turned to one side, tried his best to give his audience of one a good viewing angle. Akio already knew exactly what his first demonstration would be. He made no sudden motions, took up no stance, simply took a deliberate breath to calm his mind and began to speak an incantation. "Earthly serpent, flow to the mountain peak." Short and simple. He hadn't spoken it like a command, more like it had been a request to a superior, or potentially a prayer.

Two things had happened during that incantation, both relatively subtle. The first was an unimpressive flicker of reiatsu that surrounded one foot as a small piece of abrasive patch of scenery he once appeared to be gave way to a mess of intertwined languid viridian coils, more noticeably quincy as that essense dominated the other two. Akio's reiatsu was in the process of healing, or at least transitioning from something obviously wrong to something only subtly off. The second thing that happened was the actual effect of his spell, a temporary connection that he'd formed to a strong flowing current of reishi buried within the earth. It was like a thin wire that extended down from his shoe to connect with the natural reishi flows within the earth. He pulled on that connection by raising that foot as part of a step backwards, and caused a pillar of stone to erupt up from the street a foot or so from where he'd been standing when he cast the spell. The pillar rapidly reached three meters in height before stopping just as suddenly as it started.

Akio raised an arm and laid his hand on the pillar, demonstrated that the rough hewn stone was solid. "This is what I call a Fuusuishi Art, it's written with the kanji for 'wind and water expert'. It's a spell that draws on reishi from a dragon stream, weilding nature as a weapon." He left out that he'd developed this spell, part of a pretentious attempt at reviving a much older reishi manipulation method he'd read about, one whose creators had cast it aside after they'd discovered a method to bottle reishi. "I call it a dragon stream, but I've heard it called a spirit vein, ley line, reimyaku, earthpulse, or the breath of the planet." It honesty, it nothing so much as the front half of a kido spell grafted to the back half of a ginto spell, a method that burned an internal power as a catalyst to kickstart the manipulation of external power taken from nature. "I had to use a more advanced form of this to restrain that hollow."

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira stood back as requested. He knew more than anyone just how messy the spiritual arts could get. Though he didn't quite get why Mr. Suit and Tie was willing to do this for free, Akira certainly wasn't complaining. "Earthly serpent, flow to the mountain peak." The words seemed odd to Akira. Odder still was the way he had said them. It was almost like a shinigami's release command, but the stranger had no sword to speak of. Whoever, or whatever this person was, they seemed to have a habit of raising more questions than answers. Akira watched intently as the "release command" gave way to a flash of reiatsu.

Akira watched, spellbound as a reiatsu rope began to form. A real genuine rope, in the sense it was a singular chord comprised of many different smaller threads tied together, making each other stronger in the process. It smelled like quincy sorcery, but it was unlike anything Akira had seen from one of the Emperor's lackeys. Akira could sense the stranger's aura shift in tune with the "earthly serpent's" movements. No longer was he a stain on Karakura's tapestry, an aberration that by all rights shouldn't exist. No. It was fixed, as if whatever terrible tragedy that made him turn out this way had been reversed, or at least treated.

Then came the finale, the pièce de résistance. Lines of reiatsu reached into the earth and pulled it up as easily as one might unfold a folding chair. Soul command? No, no this wasn't quite the same. Similar, but not anything like Akira had done before his death. As the stranger explained the technique as best he could, Akira only became stronger in his convictions. This man was a freak. Each of Akira's theories on the guy seemed less possible than the ones that came before. Artificial quincy created through blood transfusion, fullbringer with their soul bound to the genus loci of planet earth, some freaky other thing that somehow had the powers of all the races except maybe hell, but also maybe hell.

None seemed to completely explain what Akira was witnessing. "You don't say..." Akira said, as the stranger explained his technique after the fact. This man didn't seem to be educated, at least not like Akira had been. That didn't make him stupid by any means, but his ability to articulate who he was and what he was doing didn't seem orthodox. Maybe he was a stray. Some human with weird powers trying to make sense of them as best he could. Still, what exactly was he? "Are you familiar with the affliction of fullbringers? I took an elective class on them." Akira asked as he went over to inspect the stone column that had been created.

"Fascinating stuff. Born to women attacked by hollows before or during pregnancy. Though prolonged exposure to powerful spirit energy can also awaken these powers. Being material beings in the material world, their powers involve manipulating the world around them. They can alter the properties of objects, shape the earth like clay, the possibilities are endless. Though I can't say I've ever heard of one that can call mother gaea herself to aid them. Not as you did. I can't say I've heard of ley lines or spirit veins in relation to fullbringers, either." Considering what Akira had just witnessed, it seemed there may be some truth to the way the man described his powers.

"You're an interesting one. I'll give you that." Akira looked genuinely impressed. "I know you declined to see one of my spells, but I'm afraid I must insist. It's a matter of principal. You might want to stand back from that pillar." Akira pointed his finger at the earthen collumn the stranger had created. "Sokatsui." With a flash of blue light, the stone pillar was destroyed, the earth being vaporized, as if it had never risen up in the first place. Smoke rose from the blackened base of the tower. For the extra bit of pageantry, Akira blew smoke off his finger gun as if it were a revolver. "I'm better at destroying shit than I am at creating it, personally."

"You said you used a more advanced form of that technique to bind the hollow?" Akira paused for an answer. "Ok, I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about you. I'd quite like to spar with you. Spell vs spell. Don't worry, it's just a spar, so no one's gonna die or get too injured...It's just that I'd like to learn more about you, and I've always been more of a tactile learner, you see." Akira smiled innocently. "Come on, what do you say? It'll be fun, I promise! Call it a cultural exchange, from my corner of the greater interconnected clump of relams to your corner of the interconnected clump of realms."

[Akio Naito]

Affliction, why use that word? Akio was well aware of fullbringers, he understood the full manifestation artists better than any other class of spiritual human. They had always been the vast majority of his practical experience with the supernatural. Everyone who worked at the Castle had seen the way that Katsuo used soul command for even the most mundane tasks. Though everyone may have been too strong a word when the Time Castle's staff could be counted on one hand. And back before Akio had lost his own ability, long ago as that was, he had actually fought a few of them on even footing. No, he'd had help for almost all of those fights. Even before he could see hollows, fullbringers and their weapons had been visible. That said, there was still plenty he couldn't know from his outsider's perspective. "I am aware of them. They draw out the spiritual aspect of an object to coat over the physical, tranform the sentimental into their power." That had felt like enough description to get his understanding across. "Interesting as they are, I do not possess their art." more expectation management, more forced formality as a kind of social armor.

First he stepped away from the pillar as asked, then he flinched when Sokatsui burned away his creation, throwing an arm up to shield himself as he took an extra step back. Though thanks to his unimpressive reaction time, the defensive reflexes had actually started slightly after the blue flash had consumed the remains of hashira. Once the shinigami had followed their show of force with a question, it took Akio another beat before he lowered his defenses. "I used a more advanced form of the fuusuishi method. By drawing on above-ground reishi currents, I was able to form temporary binding threads." He'd expected a question like that, expected to be asked for a second demonstration of his spellcasting talents, maybe even a third that would force him to use a golden rabbit as an example of his upper limits. Certainly hadn't expected to be asked for a sparring match. "Spar with you? An honor for a mere mortal, I accept." Hubris test, failed.

Akio didn't see himself as particularly powerful. He was pretty sure that he was still below average for a living human in physical ability. Well, he had started seeing himself as somewhat impressive spiritually now that he was on the same scale as a lesser gillian. Still a world below the realm of what he thought all shinigami were capable of. They seem sincere. They intend to hold back, but how much? That they planned to keeping it strictly spell vs spell was probably the best matchup Akio could hope for. It played to his strengths and avoided most of his flaws. Though it had been made very clear that the shinigami could cast their arts much faster than he could his own, a single word compared to his full incantations. Keeping this to their respective magical skills also gave him a better justification not to use anything that would have caused a dangerous misunderstanding, removed the temptation to fall back on the tools that he'd crafted in an attempt to match that kind of speed.

He faced the shinigami side on with feet one arrow length apart. A posture shared between archery and spellcasting. Maybe it had been how he stood with his long-lost blade as well, but he couldn't be sure of that, the memory had faded too much. What wasn't in doubt was that his reiatsu haf continued shifting, more and more of what had been slow grinding white noise flaked away to release a deep blue-green marred with streaks and blotches of vibrant red. The impression of nature was still there, it had merely blended in with the quincy aspect in such a was that it shifted from something stagnant to something tangled up in itself, a restless aura that constantly moved and twisted. As Akio's awareness of his improved condition grew, he couldn't suppress the mental image of rotten wood crumbling apart to reveal a den of snakes. Almost certainly because he had grown used to visualizing the reishi currents he studied and manipulated as both rivers and serpentine dragons. Hard not to think of his spirit as that different than what had made this level of recovery possible.

"Are there any formal rules for this?" He took a deep breath while waited for the shinigami to respond, tried to think through the basics of a strategy based on whatever they'd told him next. As long as he survived this, it was a chance to get real insight into kido that he could cannibalize for his own path. That was what drove him to take the obvious risks of enduring the shinigami's superior techniques. Survival is frist priority, then learning. In the worst case I can still send a rabbit for help. The final moments before the sparring match started came with a tension that made Akio much more aware of the weight of all the tools he didn't intend to use. Four silver stakes that had each taken a month to craft, two secondhand crosses that offered power if he could only bring himself lie about who he was, and a single slip of embroidered paper that was more or less his very stylish attempt at reinventing voicemail.

■■ Stats ■■
{Class} ■ [6]
{Strength} ■ {40}
{Speed} ■ {50}
{Spiritual Pressure} ■ {50}
{Reiatsu Strength} ■ {80}
{Light Aura} ■ {50}
{Dark Aura} ■ {50}
{Instinct} ■ {50}
{Senses} ■ {50}
{Energy Sensory} ■ {25}
{Healing Expertise} ■ {0}

■■ Skills ■■
{Ginto} ■ {1}
{Calm Mind} ■ {1}
{Focused Eye} ■ {1}
{Memory} ■ {1}
{Learning} ■ {1}
{Weapon: [Bow]} ■ {1}
{Imitation} ■ {1}
{Analyzing} ■ {1}
{Appraisal} ■ {1}


■■ Inventory ■■
Kathedrale - Reichlich [x1]
Shikigami - Golden Rabbit [x1]

■■ Reiatsu ■■
{420/500}

[-80 ] = Spellcasting during previous posts.

[Akira Hinosai]

It wasn't much, but he could definitely rule out fullbringer from the list of things this guy could be.The stranger would go on to explain the "fuusuishi method". It wasn't something Akira was familiar with. However, his ears perked up when he heard mention of reishi. Only quincy seemed to talk in terms of reishi. Maybe he was just a stray, like Ellie. Though Ellie seemed to have more in common with the orthodox quincy than this man. The stranger would ultimately accept Akira's invitation to spar, though his attitude was really starting to wear on Akira's patience. He wasn't an asshole. Far from it. He had no balls, no grit. He was the kind of guy to thank a police officer for giving him a speeding ticket.

The shinigami weren't literal gods. Had this guy even met one before? Half of them either became vizards or died to a hollow's maw.  Akira may have fostered this behavior because he wanted something out of the guy, but Akira's patience for these mental games was wearing thin. Fortunately, he had just the way to vent his hidden frustrations. Though as the obvious superior in terms of strength, it would fall to him to set at least some terms for the duel. "I like to play fast and loose with these sorts of things. The only rule is that this goes on as long as both of us are willing. If you need to stop for any reason, say so. I'm not looking to make a martyr out of you."

Of course, it was only logical for the same to apply to Akira, but he had no intention of bowing out. He wouldn't even entertain that possibility. He would take a few paces back from the stranger and stretch his arms over his head. "Oh, one last thing. We start on the count of 3." Akira put his arms down, resting both his hands by his sides like he was ready to draw two guns from two holsters. He had none, but what he did have, were two 9 milimeter finger pistols. As it would so happen, he was the fastest gun in the seireitei. Upon some form of acknowledgement from his partner or some moment of silence, Akira would begin the countdown.

"3...2...1!" As soon as Akira said 1, he would quickly bring his right arm into position through a partial shunpo. The limb moving into position in blinding speed, as if the frames showing its motion were deleted from reality. Then he'd perform a mental incantation of one of Akira's personal favorite spells: Sho. With that, a bolt of force would be launched from Akira's open palm. A simple spell, but Akira's advanced reiatsu strength was sure to elevate it. If the cone of force hit the stranger, he would likely be sent flying back a few feet unless he found some way to deal with the force. Either way, Akira was curious to see how this freak of nature would respond...

SPOILER: Click to show

{Akira stats}Akira's Stats:

Strength - 50 (37)
Speed - 100
Spiritual Pressure - 100 (125)
Reiatsu Strength - 200 (300)
Instinct - 50 Points
Senses - 50 Points
Energy sensory - 100
Healing Expertise - 50 (25)
Light Aura - 45
Dark Aura - 55

----------

Analysis: 2
Strength of Will: 2
Weapon Skill (Prima Materia): 1
Mental Incantation: 2
Battle Analysis: 2
Acting: 2
Kido Mastery: 2

Reiatsu 1025/1250

-100 sokatsui (previous post)
-100 Shunpo Karin (effective speed of 1000)
-25 Sho

[Akio Naito]

All composure, no resolve. There had been no effort to hide that about himself, nor any attempts at deception on any front other than omission. Akio didn't see any point in lying to this shinigami, even if he would rather leave out how far he'd gone in trying to make up for being powerless. One of those omissions had been that he had already intended to lose gracefully from the moment he'd agreed to this match. More than that, he'd planned for a repeat performance of what happened the night in the park, that shinigami had defeated him effortlessly. Though he couldn't blame the chained reaper for that, it had been his own fault for having lied to and antagonized them. Could I have asked them to take an apology to their realm? No. Never got the chain-bearer's name, only their sword's. Cannot assume they would be willing to do that. What was important was that he'd do better this time, wouldn't repeat any of the those mistakes, and he wouldn't blame this otherworldly stranger for anything that happened tonight either.

"On three—" The ordinary spellcaster had committed to a strategy in his mind. He planned to kick off the ground as soon as the count was up, moving diagonally backwards and to his own right for what he saw as the best chance at a preemptive evasion assuming that the shinigami would rely on their rapid casting. Two— He'd belived that if the opening evasion worked, it would also buy at least one-half of the time he would need to cast something of his own. Wouldn't need to worry about accuracy, as long as he could achive a near-miss or force a burst of high speed movement it would be enough to show he was making an effort. That would even be proof that he'd improved, at least to himself. One— That plan had shattered entirely without being acted on. That was what he got for expecting his opponent to hold themselves back to merely peak human levels of physical ability in this kind of competition.

The overpowering force of shō had a lot in common with being hit by a car, even if his opponent preferred to gesture as if it were a gun. A sudden impact worth multiple bruised ribs that came faster than Akio could perceive that the shinigami had raised their arm to aim at him, let alone try to react. The basic kido hurled him back just over four meters and forced an awkward and painful three point landing with an arm behind his back just to catch himself before his head hit the asphalt, a feat that had only been possible because he had planned to jump before being hit. He sucked in air through his teeth, this was exactly the reason he thought of shinigami and the other humanoid spirits as inhuman gods that living humans could never catch up with no matter how much effort was put into that struggle. In Akio's eyes, there was a wide river that separated beings of pure soul like shinigami and arrancar from those with a material body. Sure humans like bount and fullbringers could wade a fair distance, as could and quincy the living plush toys. Even so, but none of them could ford it.

As he pulled himself back up to his feet he had already started his incantation. "Heavenly serpent," Reishi currents in the air shifted, condensing around Akio's arm at alarming speeds. Relying on natural currents that were already in motion meant that the real speed limitation was that he couldn't duplicate a shinigami's ability to skip verbal incantations. "Descend to the sacred tree." As he'd finished speaking the reishi shifted its into into lightning. Shimoku had a variable element, wind, water, lightning, even something else if he was in thr right environment. They took on an aspect of nature becuase they were woven from nature's reishi, all of his creations so far were like that. The spell fired with a wide horizontal swing of his arm, Akio planned to let the shinigami evade and then start guiding the projectile once it was behind them. Striking his opponent in the back would be cowardly but necessary if he wanted to get a hit in.

SPOILER: Click to show

{Reiatsu Log}■■ Reiatsu ■■
{370/500}

[-50 ] = Second Fuusuishi Art: Shimoku

[Akira Hinosai]

"Holy shit! God damn!" Akira burst into laughter. "FASTEST GUN IN THE WEST, BABY!" Akira felt like the gunslinger wizard he was always meant to be. Even soul command didn't feel this good. Though the tought crosed his mind that he may have taken the show of force a bit too far. After all, the stranger had been knocked back a fair bit. Come to think about it, the force bolt as a bit more focused than this guy could take. There was a nonzero chance Akira cracked or broke one of this guy's ribs. Akira felt slightly guilty. He may have just done the spiritual equivalent of bringing a hand grenade to a little league game. "Hey, sorrry, are you ok? I miiiiiight have gotten a little...overzealous."

Akira realized all too late that he had misjudged his opponent. The "demonstration" Akira was hoping for was coming, whether he was ready or not. Akira could sense the power massing around his opponent, though he was powerless to stop it. The power this man wielded was a total unknown variable. That meant there was only one smart way to respond: DODGE! Akira's body moved on its own in tandem with his opponent. He could see his opponent throwing his arm horizontally, which indicated an arc as opposed to a bolt. Akira hit the ground just in time to avoid the arc of electricity. Good. That could have been bad if it hit me.

Akira jumped to his feet. Something in the air felt...wrong, but he discarded that feeling. The attack missed. His opponent was wide open, but before Akira could so much as blink, he felt something hit him from behind. It wasn't force though, no kinetic energy, but electrical. He felt as though he'd tongued a tesla coil. His muscles locked and his teeth clenched as pain overwhelmed him for a few moments that seemed to stretch for eternity. The stabbing pain stretched across his entire body, and then it was gone. Akira fell to his knees. "Owwwww. Ok, maybe I deserved that." Akira wanted to be mad, but he couldn't. That was actually a really good trick.

"That was some trick you pulled. Real clever." Akira's voice was devoid of mockery. He figured this guy earned some praise. Akira would have to use this trick himself some day. Akira rose back to his feet, a little thrown off, but not ready to give up. For Akira's next move, he'd try and challenge just how versatile the strangers abilities were. He reached a hand out and would silently cast another kido spell. However, this would be no bolt of force or lightning. Akira wordlessly recited the incantation to Bakudo #8: Horin. Old reliable. From each of Akira's fingers, a rope of orange energy shot outwards at Akio. If they reached him in time, they would each entangle him, like a fly trapped in a web. However, if Akio managed to dodge, they would do nothing, and Akira would be open to counterattack.

Reiatsu 1000/1250
-25 Horin

[Akio Naito]

Akio had lashed out in retaliation for the opening shot before even thinking to answer if he was okay, and by the time he had considered saying something the self-proclaimed spellcaster had frozen up and leaned back, a sign that he had been expecting rage when his spell had actually connected with the shinigami's back, not an unsarcastic admiration for his tactic. "We can say both of our opening shots were deserved." First an apology for that opening attack and then his opponent had actually complimented him? Some part of him already wanted to spend the next year or so gnawing on that faint praise, but that had to wait until after the duel was over. Besides, it hadn't exactly been like he'd be able to get away with that twice. Now that the shinigami knew he could guide his projectile after casting it, he'd have to assume they wouldn't stop paying attention to it after an initial miss. That meant he'd have to give up on winning this unless find another way to force an opening, even if that was only forcing the reaper to evade in hopes of tiring them out. Even supernatural levels of stamina gave out eventually, and he had to imagine high speed movement consumed that limited resource even faster.

He made an attempt at circle strafing once it was clear he hadn't angered his opponent to dangerous levels. It had been obvious Akio's reaction time was lacking for a fight like this, limited to baseline human levels of speed or instinct that wouldn't be enough to react to any kido after they'd been fired, so he'd made an attempt at something preemptive, but still not fast enough to actually hinder the shinigami's aim. "Earthly serpent-" His attempt at evasive manuvers came to a stop as he started his next incantation, an unfortunate necessity given Hashira required keeping a hand or foot on the ground for the entire casting process. It went against traditional wisdom to do that, but he didn't trust his own reaction speed to be that much of an edge after the quickdraw stunt from what couldn't have been more than a minute before. When he'd seen the shinigami raise their arm once more, he prioritized his own incantation over moving pit of the way. Not even the impact of the orange light twisting around his body and arms was enough to stop that, a perk of mastering Hashira was that he didn't need his hands as long as he could keep both feet on the ground.

"-flow to the mountain peak." Unless the shinigami did something to knock him over of drag him out of that position, another stone pillar would lash up from the ground beneath them. Identical to the first in size and erupting after a similarly short delay from the obvious gesture of lifting the foot he'd used as his connection to the earth beneath. Hashira's elemental aspect was just as flexible as his other creation, though Akio had kept to earth for practical reasons. A stone spire gave him an obstacle he could put between himself and the next kido if he needed one. Although if the goth reaper pulled Akio out of place, before he finished his incantation or movements, the thin thread of energy that made up his spell would snap and prevent any of that from happening. Akio hadn't payed much attention to if he'd been successful in casting, as his attention finally caught up with the binding around him. Horin dredged up memories of the chain the other shinigami had swung at him, but it also gave him a learning experience with a tangible kido spell, something he wanted to scorch into his memory as inspiration for his next creation.

SPOILER: Click to show

{Reiatsu Log}■■ Reiatsu ■■
{340/500}

[-30 ] = First Fuusuishi Art: Hashira

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira couldn't begin to guess what was going through this guy's head. Akira had backup plans for his backup plans, but this guy? He didn't even try to dodge the horin! No prodding, no sleight of hand to get him to slip up. He just stood there. If I was a suspicious man, I'd say he was planning something. It's a shame it's not going to work. Akira was playing the role of the teacher. It would be irresponsible of him not to impart the most important lesson there was. You fuck up, you eat shit. Mistakes couldn't go unpunished. His plans were the idiotic notions of a child who doesn't understand inevitability.

Akira didn't know whether to feel bad or overjoyed. He very quickly settled on the latter. He couldn't keep getting away with it, but he continued anyway. No matter how many times he pulled this trick, there was always a new poor son of a bitch who didn't see it coming. Most shinigami were so...limited in their application of kido. A rope was a rope, and a rope was only good for restraining enemies. Akira considered himself a specialist of a different breed. People expected to get grappled. They didn't often expect to be connected to a HIGH VOLTAGE DEATH MACHINE! Akira wordlessly cast his favorite spell. Tsuzuri Raiden. The beams of horin became the prongs of a taser.

Calling it a taser did it a disservice, really. Tasers weren't shit. To the uninitiated it was like the electric chair's bigger meaner cousin with a prison record. As untold volts electrocuted the poor sod behind the stone pillar Akira raised his free hand and spoke the incantation to a spell, if only to showboat a little. “Ye lord! Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams unleash but slightly the wrath of your claws! HADO #33 SOKATSUI!" Akira hoped the sharply dressed man would still be drooling on the ground. Even if not, the stone pillar was about to be reduced to slag. A ball of blue flame shot towards the pillar, likely destroying it as effortlessly as before.

It was Akira's hope that Akio would be left without his meager shield or much recourse against Akira. Though, if he did, that would certainly be interesting. Then again, blasting death beams until his arms went numb had a certain value to itself. A win win for Akira, and maybe the other guy...

875/1250

-100 sokatsui (effective OS of 360)

-25 Tzuzuri Raiden

[Akio Naito]

The plans Akio had made didn't account for Tzuzuri Raiden. Between the completely silent casting and the sheer speed of the electrical current, it was too fast for him to react. Truthfully, it was fast enough that he wouldn't have been able to defend against the spell even if he'd known it was coming, or a way of actually protecting himself from the shock even if he were that fast. When it came down to it, he really needed better defenses. Muscles spasmed and sent the greatly outclassed spellcaster collapsing to the street below. Disabled by temporary paralysis and the pain of electrical burns, his attempt to cast hashira failed. That meant the pillar he'd intended to strike with from directly beneath the shinigami never arrived. Unfortunately, the attack being preempted robbed Akira of their chance to show off by demolishing what was left of it. A tragedy all around.

Focused on his attempts to get his breath and pulse back onto rhythm in the first moment of reasonably clear thought after that unpleasent experience, he was hesitant to stand back up. The sokatsui, if still cast, would have sailed over his prone body and into the wall of a nearby building. There was no twisting the fact that this had been a loss on his part. It wasn't that he had done anything wrong; there really hadn't been much he could have done differently. Even if he had cheated and relied on quincy tools like the silver tubes, it wouldn't have made a difference in the areas he'd been outclassed in. Well, that and using any of those where one of the shinigami would be able to see would only make more enemies whose attentions he wouldn't be able to survive. In the moment, he felt that his problem was more a matter of being too slow to react and that he needed to stop moving if he wanted to cast most of his limited array of spells. If Akira was the fastest gun in the west, Akio was going through the step-by-step process of reloading a wheellock rifle.

Assuming that his opponent hadn't continued to press the attack while Akio was knocked to the ground, he would stay there for a full minute before he tried to stand. Using an arm to press against the asphalt below him, he rose shakily to his feet. No sense complaining after I used an electrical spell first. "One more, then we call it a win for you." He made it clear that he was able to continue, though obviously not at the level he'd started at. One more learning experience was all that he needed out of this duel; after that, he could quit with a bounty of inspiration and practical experience that may actually help him improve. I can create something for next time—build a kathedrale that can construct high-speed barriers, develop a new spell that I can use without stopping to connect to the reishi flows, or refine a bird-type shikigami that can chant on my behalf?