Sick Day [DE PVP]

[Maria Ashwin]

Maria Ashwin| Segunda Espada 

Paragraph Count:05 ⦿Word Count:0845 ⦿Theme music: N/A

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"Seek my attention at your peril~"

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The Low beeping of a heart monitor filled the hospital room the segunda found herself sitting in , a bored expression marred on her face as she looked upon the once broken remains of the hollow named Alacran. He was hooked up to several devices and tubes made to automate his bodies critical mandatory functions , Hooked to a feeding tube and several IV drips with virulent regenerative chemical cocktails meant to start the regenerative process. To say Astrid did a number one this one was one hell of an understatement , it had been what three years now since this 'thing' was last conscious 'given the amount of medical supplies i'v had to devote to this single hollow he better be the next coming of the soul king' she would think to herself with a sigh.

Maria would look up from the hollow as the door to the room swung open with a 'click' revealing maria's lead doctor and director of operations within the medical wing , he stood a modest six foot even dressed in a standard lab coat. A friendly smile paved upon his rather youthful face hiding the sadistic beast that lingered beneath. His very presence made maria's skin crawl but she couldn't deny his usefulness , and it killed her a little inside that someone this useful and cordial was that fucking evil. "why hello my segunda , it seems you've come to us in one piece today" his voice artificially sweet as if he where congratulating a child on a job well done "what brings you into my office today , you know i have important work but i do adore the social visits" his tone obese with sarcasm and that shrill child like baby voice. The neon green haired woman would shoot him a glare that would kill him if it held any power , "my patience is thin these days Dr. Richter , so unless you wish to see what's brewing beneath the surface i suggest you bite your tongue"

He would wave his finger in a tut , tut manner with a grin that stretched ear to ear as he looked upon maria the air in the room growing frigid , "now , now if you kill me who's going to bandage up all your boo boo's and.." his smile seemed to grow impossibly wider "...heal the mangy trash strays you keep bringing to my medical wing , Oh how the espada ha-" that was as far as he got before the room grew incredibly cold , the lights flickering on and off as the entire hospital began to shake. The Tele Vision in the room flickering on and off and she left the full mirth of her spirit energy flow through her entire city for the briefest of moments before reigning it back in , a warning so profound you'd have to be blind not to see it. "finish that sentence if you want....i'll parade your corpse through every hall of las noches" the words sliding off her tongue like venom , she been through enough these past few years and was no longer accepting the disrespect of other she could only turn the cheek so many times before she could take no more. 

The doctor would continue smiling only responding with an amused 'Hmph' walking over to Alacran's Iv bag and injecting it with a syringe full of a black tar like substance , "your stray will be awake soon my segunda , I'll leave his chart with you lest i ruffle more feathers~" he would tease as he exited the room. Maria would clench her jaw as she watched him leave , one might wonder why she put up with such blatant and open disrespect from a lowly numerous. In truth she'd have killed him if not for how long he's been around , he had proven his usefulness time and time again to discard him would be like shooting herself in the foot. Thus it has now become a long standing game where she is an unwilling participant , and should she kill him she would lose yet every time he got away scott free she would have to live with the fact that he a being unfit to join her even as a fraccion had bested her. She knew not what it did to slate his sick ego , but as long as he did his job she could truly care less simply giving him gentle reminders where he stood before her.

Maria's eyes would scan the vitals monitor as he began to wake, 'it's going to be a few hours' she thought to herself pinch the bridge of her nose, seeking to alleviate the incoming headache. She would pull out her soul phone and send a text to the wait staff , having them whip up some steak for them both as rare as it came. While food from maria's palace halted hollow hunger , some still prefered to see thier food bleed a pleasure she herself relished in secret. She would watch him while she awaited the food , only saying something once his eyes clicked open "welcome to the land of the living"

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[Alacrán]

The first sensation Alacrán felt as he clawed his way back to consciousness was pain—dull, muted, but ever-present, throbbing beneath layers of numbness. His body, once accustomed to the violent rush of combat, now felt foreign, disconnected, as though it wasn't his own. Every joint and muscle screamed in protest, fighting against his will to move, but the effort was futile. The cold restraints of medical devices and tubes tethered him to this strange place, a constant reminder of his current helplessness. He tried to shift, but his body felt heavy, sluggish. This wasn’t the predatory life he was used to; it was something altogether different and repugnant.

He had failed.

That memory hit hard, jagged and sharp, slicing through the haze of his fractured mind. Astrid. The Tercera Espada—another powerful figure in Las Noches. She had left him a broken mess, discarded like useless debris. His mind was clouded, unable to grasp how long he had been out, but the humiliation was fresh. The weight of his defeat pressed down on him, heavier than the pain that wracked his body. He was trapped in this half-dead state, not knowing if he’d ever fully recover or if he was merely a reminder of his own failure.

The rhythmic beeping of machines surrounded him, a sound that clashed with the brutality of Hueco Mundo. The sterile scent in the air was a stark contrast to the harsh, barren environment he knew. As his eyelids fluttered open, struggling against the weight of unconsciousness, he saw dim lights casting an unnatural glow over the room. This wasn’t where he had last fought; this was something else entirely—cold, clinical, and unwelcoming. The environment felt like a cage, a place meant to keep him subdued and reliant on these devices rather than his own strength.

He tried to move again, but something felt off—his limbs were less rigid, more pliable. The sensation was strange, like his own body had been altered. He noticed the smoothness of his skin, the way his hands looked, but it didn’t fully register. It was as if he was wearing a different form of armor, or maybe he was still trapped in some dream-like state where things didn’t quite make sense. The idea that he might have taken on a human form didn’t cross his mind. The disorientation and the subtle changes in his body felt like a cruel trick or an additional torment, not a transformation into something new. The thought that he might be in a human-like state didn’t seem plausible to him, only adding to his confusion and frustration.

And then, the voice. A woman’s voice, casual but laced with an unmistakable presence of power. Whoever she was, she didn’t carry the same arrogance that some of the higher-ups in Las Noches did, but she was still a figure of authority. To Alacrán, she represented another aspect of the ruling class he despised. The Arrancar’s rule was a perversion of Hollowkind, and he had no respect for their self-proclaimed superiority. Alacrán didn’t care about their titles or ranks; to him, they were just another form of corruption. Even now, in his weakened state, he held onto his disdain for them.

His mouth felt dry, his throat cracked and painful, but he forced himself to speak, his voice rough and strained. "Land o' the livin'... don’t feel much diff'rent than where I left off," he rasped, letting out a brief, pained cough. "I reckon I oughta thank ya... but I won’t. Not yet." He spoke with the same defiance that had always marked him, despite the weakness of his body. He wasn’t one for empty gratitude, especially when he didn’t know why he’d been kept alive.

His eyes slowly focused on the woman, taking in her bored expression. She seemed more interested in her own thoughts than in him, a stark reminder of the indifference of those who ruled. He didn’t know her rank or name, but it didn’t matter; to him, she was part of the same corrupt system that he had no intention of joining. "Tell me... whoever ya are," he continued, his voice gaining strength though his body remained uncooperative. "Why keep me ‘round? I ain’t nothin’ but broke-down scrap ta someone like ya."

He let the question hang in the air, his eyes locked on her as he waited for a response. He wasn’t naive—he knew that power in Las Noches often meant holding onto potential, even if they didn’t understand it fully. But even so, he was curious about their reasons. They had a way of bending things to their will, but Alacrán was no easy bend. He wasn’t about to become one of them, no matter how they tried to mold him.

[Maria Ashwin]

Maria Ashwin| Segunda Espada 

Paragraph Count:04 ⦿Word Count:0573 ⦿Theme music: N/A

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"Seek my attention at your peril~"

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The stale air of the sterile hospital room hung heavy, a stark contrast to the vibrant woman perched at the foot of the bed. Maria, with her emerald eyes and a mane of fiery hair, seemed to breathe life into the sterile environment. The chair beneath her creaked a gentle protest as she kicked her feet up onto the stool, a picture of nonchalance even as Alacran began to speak. His voice, slowly gaining strength, filled the room. Maria met his gaze, her outward expression a mask of serene calmness. Her hands, resting peacefully in her lap, were a stark contrast to the turmoil within. It irked her, this lack of gratitude. Here he was, alive thanks to her intervention, her staff, and the whirring symphony of life support machines, yet a simple "thank you" seemed beyond him.  

He spoke, his words rough around the edges, but at least forming a coherent question. "Why keep me 'round? I ain't nothin' but broke-down scrap ta someone like ya." A flicker of something, perhaps befuddlement, crossed Maria's face. This hollow, for all his gruffness, at least possessed the ability for basic conversation. "Honestly?" Maria began, her voice a calm matter-of-fact. She leaned back in her chair, her emerald gaze sweeping over Alacran's newly humanoid form. The IV drips and machines sustaining him, but his body, gaunt and frail, spoke volumes of his previous state. "It was an act of kindness to my kin, I strive to uplift all hollows and Arrancar under my care." A silent thought flickered through her mind. Perhaps it would have been easier to simply let him fade away.

She closed her eyes briefly, a sigh escaping her lips. Stretching languidly, pops echoed through the room as she stretched her arms high above her head. "I'd love to take you outside and show you what I've built," she continued, "but for now, your life hangs by a thread – those machines, are doing what they can till your body compensates. However, your organs should stabilize within the week, and then..." The door clanged open, interrupting her. Two nurses entered, pushing carts laden with steaming plates. The aroma of sizzling steak, a far cry from the bland hospital fare, filled the room. This was a perk of Maria's domain – the food, infused with riatsu, not only satiated the Hollows' hunger pangs but also provided them with a sense of clarity.

"Let's start with introductions," Maria said, her voice softening as she gestured to the food. "Tell me your name, and I'll follow suit. As for titles," she added, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone, "I may not be queen, but I run this place." The words felt hollow on her tongue. She had done so much for las noches , that much was recognized but she could do so much more for her people if she could just push kohai to do more. But that was a dangerious slope no one should test lest they think themselves prepared for his wrath ; and maria wasn't quite ready to poke the bear not yet atleast she had much more work to do. Should Alacran eat he would be regaining a sliver of his former strength, Maria herself contemplated the future as she watched him eat. The weight of leadership, the unfulfilled ambitions, and the whispers of discontent within the palace walls swirled in her mind, a stark contrast to the outward calm she projected. 

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[Alacrán]

Alacrán's eyes shifted back to the woman as she spoke about kindness and leadership, the words grating against his patience. Kindness, from an Arrancar? That felt like a joke, but he held his tongue for the moment, focusing instead on the strange sensations rippling through his weakened body. His form still felt wrong, too weak and… different. He'd heard plenty of whispers about what Kohai was doin’ to Hollows in Las Noches, twisting them into these creatures called Arrancar. But never in his wildest dreams did he think it’d happen to him.

He shifted in the bed, focusing on the strange, sluggish feeling in his limbs. He wasn’t supposed to be here, not like this. His mind went back to Los Vástagos, his kin who were working to free themselves from Kohai’s influence and bring about real change in Hueco Mundo. He had no love for the Espada, or for Kohai’s twisted experiments on Hollows. As far as he knew, that so-called king could turn any Hollow into one of these creatures. But he wasn’t supposed to be one of them.

“Ya talk like ya care ‘bout Hollows,” he muttered, voice low but steady, “but I ain't seein’ it. Las Noches ain't no place for someone like me.” His eyes finally traveled down to his hand, fingers trembling as he tried to clench his fist. What he saw made his heart skip a beat. Gone were the dark, hardened claws he was used to. Instead, he saw something unfamiliar—skin. Human-like skin. His body, once a massive scorpion with wings, was reduced to this… thing. He sucked in a sharp breath, realization slowly hitting him like a punch to the gut.

He sucked in a breath, his gaze snapping back to Maria. “What in the hell did ya do ta me?” he growled, trying to sit up but feeling the weight of his injuries holding him down. “I ain’t one o’ yer kind, an’ I sure as hell didn’t ask ta be.” The realization that he was no longer in his familiar scorpion form hit him like a ton of bricks. He didn’t know how it had happened, but he had an idea who was behind it—Kohai.

Alacrán gritted his teeth, his mind flashing back to the mission he and his group, Los Vástagos, had set out on. They were supposed to be fighting against this kind of thing, building their numbers, recruiting strong Hollows to take on Kohai and his army of Arrancar. And now here he was, trapped in the middle of the very thing he despised.

“We ain’t servin’ Kohai,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “Los Vástagos, we’re fightin’ ta free Hueco Mundo, not bend the knee ta that bastard.” He glanced at the food, but the thought of eatin’ right now made him sick. “So why am I here?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at Maria. “Yer king wanna make me one o’ his? 'Cause I ain’t here ta serve him, and I damn sure ain’t plannin’ on bein’ one o’ ya.”

[Maria Ashwin]

Maria Ashwin| Segunda Espada 

Paragraph Count:04 ⦿Word Count:0626 ⦿Theme music: N/A

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"Seek my attention at your peril~"

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 Maria let out a mirthless chuckle, her lips barely curving. His defiance, his very existence, was a stark contradiction to the grim reports she'd poured over. His encounter with Rizer where he was Grav pressured to hell and back, then his interaction with Astrid that traitorious turn coat had mauled him ; like he was nothing more than a soft-shell crab served as a light meal on sunday brunch with a foamy mimosa. "I care for my people," she began, her voice a chilling monotone as she meticulously dissected her steak, "as if they were my own. I offer them safety, security, and the promise of endless progress. In return, they pledge their loyalty, hopes, and dreams to me." a cold truth she often lost sleep over at night , heavy is the head that bears the crown of responsibility she would always wonder if she was strong enough , if she was wise enough, if she held enough earth shattering power to cement her position within the espada ; to justify her right to live at kohai's side amongst her peers.

Wiping her lips with a delicate napkin, she regarded him with a bored indifference. "What did I do? Such a loaded question. And not one of my kind? Last I checked, we're both hollows." She yawned her eyes watering slightly, a feigned weariness masking her true intentions. Based off the few words he had shared with her , the segunda espada had deduced one thing for certain this man would never convert over to her side and given his statements he didn't seem all that bright not somthing she wanted in her soldiers teresa's bold ignorance was already pushing the greenete's limits. 'he awakes from a coma in enemy territory after losig a fight , greets what could be his exacutor with open disdain, admits he plans to defy las noches , and the cherry on top....further admits he's part of enemy group meant to take us down.....he may be more stupid than astrid' she would think to her self mentally sighing.

"As for the....Los Vástagos was it? never bending the knee to a shinigami" She would simply shrug her shoulders , a showing of her own indifference on the topic as far as maria was concerned she was running las noches. When the walls went up that was by her will , when she militarized the arrancar no order had been given or heard, It was she who had went out in search of espada candidates only recently had kohai begun stirring. While maria admired him as a person she had to admit his reighn was like that of an absentee parent , just light handed enough forget he's there yet firm enough quickly remind you who's in charge and holds all the power. "thats the answer most people give, but weather you want to fall in battle or fall in line is none of my concern" her tone cold , calm collected her words flowing from her mouth like silk.

"As for why your here , i dont have the answer to that im not your shrink" she would sigh her emerald eyes half lidded as they locked on his own "i was hoping youd tell me, or have i been keeping you alive for all these years with those graciously donated organs for no reason" a hidden warning in her tone , he had been nothing but disrespectful since he woke up and had already made himself out to be an enemy. If he continued onward being this ungrateful she was likely to re-posses the organs given and take some of his orginal ones as interest for the three years of tube feeding and nursing his unconcious carcass back to minimal health.

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[Alacrán]

Alacrán’s lip curled in a slight sneer as Maria claimed they were both Hollows. “Both Hollows, huh? Funny, but I wouldn’t say yer spirit feels like any Hollow I’ve known.” His voice held a defiant edge, thick with suspicion as he eyed her, unafraid of her authority or the sterile comfort of the room. There was a strange, altered feeling to her reiatsu, something that felt off to him—less raw, less true. It reminded him of the odd girl, Cami, he’d encountered once, who carried a similarly fractured spirit. “You Arrancars got that same unnatural feel, like Hollow blood’s been twisted with somethin’ else. Don’t know how Kohai does it, but I’ll bet he ain’t just lettin’ you all get this way on yer own.”

His tone grew sharper, as though tasting something bitter. “From where I stand, Las Noches is just a trap for Hollows with too much power.” He shifted uncomfortably, casting a steely look around the pristine room, his gaze flicking to the sterile equipment that kept him bound here. “All of it—taintin’ your nature, claimin’ your power, just so Kohai can keep you close, make you his. That’s all Las Noches really is, isn’t it?” Alacrán’s expression hardened, his scorn for the Espada clear, his contempt for their unnatural strength spilling through his words like poison.

He straightened slightly, his posture subtly defiant even in his weakened state, his voice edged with pride. “I don’t care for any o’ this ‘kingdom’ stuff. Ain’t why I’m here.” There was a flicker of fierce loyalty in his tone as he continued, “My loyalty’s with Los Vástagos, out there in the dunes—Hollows that stick to what we are, no kneelin’, no givin’ ourselves over for some empty throne.” His tone grew quieter, more resolute, as though reaffirming his purpose for himself. “We’re buildin’ somethin’ pure, somethin’ of our own. No king, no twisted reiatsu, no betrayal of who we are.”

He cast a wary look around the unfamiliar space, the cold, clinical setting almost mocking his instincts as a survivor, a creature of the wilds. Even the comforts of Las Noches felt like a threat, a trap that coaxed Hollows into servitude with sweet promises of safety. “An’ whatever time’s gone by since…” he muttered, as though trying to dismiss the notion. His body ached with a new, unsteady frailty, but he held himself as proud as ever. “Could be days or years, I’m still Alacrán, and I still got my purpose.” The quiet pride in his voice was as solid as stone, making it clear that no matter the time he’d lost, he would return to his mission the second he regained his strength.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the weight of Maria’s words, the dismissive chill beneath her placid tone, nor the calculating glint in her eyes. She spoke as though he were some pawn to be controlled, another tool to add to her collection, and that grated against every fiber of his being. With a glare that met hers without flinching, he added in a low, dangerous tone, “So if ya thought keepin’ me ‘round would get ya another lackey, yer wrong.” His jaw clenched, his voice unwavering as he declared, “I’m fightin’ for Los Vástagos—our ways, our vision. Not Kohai’s.” His words cut through the sterile air with sharp, quiet resolve, his loyalty as impenetrable as his disdain for the world Maria and Kohai had built around themselves.

[Maria Ashwin]

After speaking with Jee , Soul, and Sana the thread type has gone from social to DE Pvp

Maria Ashwin| Segunda Espada 

Paragraph Count:00 ⦿Word Count:0000 ⦿Theme music: N/A

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"Seek my attention at your peril~"

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 A flicker of disappointment danced in her eyes. She had seen this type before, the stubborn, the proud, the ones who believed themselves above the laws of the universe. Such fools were a blight upon the world, a cancer that needed to be eradicated. She had nurtured and guided countless Hollows, shaping them into tools of power, instruments of her will, meant to usher in a new age of order and prosperity to Las Noches. But Alacrán was different. He was a wild card, a dangerous variable that could not be controlled and if left unattended could become a significant threat as he could not be persuaded and had made his intentions clear maria was left with only one option. The total and complete decimation of the threat before her in this moment, for if he could not be controlled, he must be destroyed.

A sigh escaped her lips, a heavy weight settling on her shoulders. This was not the outcome she had hoped for. She had tried to reason with him, to offer him a path of power and purpose within her grand design. But he had refused, clinging to his outdated ideals, his stubborn loyalty to a fading dream. She would vanish in a burst of Sonido (21,600) moving at her max speed appearing at his bed side the chair she once sat in exploding in a shower of splinters the ground beneath it cratering. Appearing at his bed side drawing her spatha in a flash of otherworldly speed through the use of Sonido garra (15,600), aiming to stab him in the eye driving her blade into his skull in an attempt to end him swiftly activating her saigo no kiyoko for the briefest of milliseconds to reduce his brain to a slurry.

She saw not a foe, but a lost soul, a prisoner of his own pride. A flicker of empathy, a silent prayer for his peaceful passing. With a final, gentle touch, she would withdraw her blade from his skull should it strike his body would then be enveloped in a white light. "im sorry it had to be this way, maybe we'll meet again on better terms" she would flick the blood off her blade sheathing it. She had no comforting words to give him in his last moments , what would she say to the man who had become a casualty to her will?

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SPOILER: Click to show

{Stats}

Strength: 200->[100]
Speed: 400->[1200]

Spiritual Pressure: 400
Riatsu Strength: 400->[500]->[1500]

Instinct: 200 ->[300]
Sense: 200

Energy Sensory: 100->[50]

Healing Expertise: 400

SPOILER: Click to show

{Items}

Body: Chest Plate
Arms: Vambrace Gauntlets
Legs: Sabatons & Greaves
Head:
Weapons: Spatha 1 (insect Rust Class 1)(Equiped: ANGEL)
Accessory: R-Siphon, Fancy Earings
Accessory: Copy Cat-Tatoo, Taro Card Chariot
Base:Palace Of The Segunda+Earings

SPOILER: Click to show

{Techs Used}

Sonido'ed foward at 18x speed
Drew Spatha and attempted to stab him at 13x speed with sonido gara in the eye
Attemped to scrambl his brain with Saigo no kōkyōkyoku at 2,700 os 
Used  Muerte Gentil on him to help him and the souls in him pass on peacfully

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[Alacrán]

As Maria’s blade surged forward, time seemed to slow for Alacrán. His vision blurred, the sterile walls of the hospital room blending with memories of endless deserts, dim skies, and the ghostly wails of Hueco Mundo. His life had been solitary, a constant struggle against the void, unmarked by companionship or warmth. The hollows he encountered had been rivals, enemies, fleeting allies—but never friends, never family. Even Los Vástagos, with all their grand ideals, had not yet filled the hollow silence of his existence. It was the life he had chosen, or perhaps the only one he’d ever known.

As the soft glow of Muerte Gentil enveloped him, a strange, unexpected calmness settled over him. He felt the steady, even pulse of Maria’s reiatsu, not cold, but somehow... gentle, easing his tensions as if urging him toward acceptance. Memories rose unbidden: fierce battles, brief respites, moments where he had brushed against something almost meaningful, only to feel it slip away. In the end, he had walked alone.

With the last of his strength, Alacrán grunted, his voice a shadow of its former defiance. “Tch... Guess... wasn’t my place... after all.” His gaze unfocused, drifting somewhere beyond Maria and the room, his final words slipping free as if speaking to no one and everyone. “If... if there’s another life... maybe... just maybe... I won’t be so damn alone in it.”

As his eyes closed, the light within him dimming, Alacrán felt a quietness that was both comforting and strange. The loneliness, always so heavy, seemed to lift as Maria’s energy held him, guiding him onward. And, for the first time, he allowed himself to let go.

[Maria Ashwin]

Slapping the body in a storage scroll