Post by Shōkan Kawada Ⅺ on Jun 12, 2015 4:19:15 GMT -5
OOC: Training For CTP
Squad 4 Barracks
7:00 A.M.
The early morning light filtered through the blinds of the window to the side of Shōkan's bed. He sat inside a small room in the squad 4 barracks, wearing the simple white robe provided for all patients of Squad 4. The main difference between Shōkan's room and that of normal patients, was that the door and window were both barred, and sealed with some sort of kidou. When he first woke up, Shōkan panicked, he had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was- No, now wasn't the time to dwell on that. While Shōkan was sure he could find a way out of the hospital cell, he decided to patient and sat on his bed, waiting. He found more than adequate stimulus in his surroundings.
The motes of dust, visible in the light, drifting all around him. The soft, yet harsh scent of cleaning chemicals reaching his nose. The very feel of the air on his cheeks. Shōkan marveled as all of these sights, smells, and feeling assualted his senses. After so long without even the simple pleasures of a breath of fresh air, Shōkan gave himself into the stimuli around him. Smelled the scents, saw the sights, and not just in the way that many trained warriors do, observing his surroundings, but taking them in, really focusing on the sights and smells and feels themselves, not just what they meant.
Not that Shōkan devoted all of his attention to his surroundings. His mind raced a mile a minute. What had happened? How had he gotten out? Where was he? and more importantly, when was he? So, in the pursuit of sating this thirst for knowledge, Shōkan began laying out the facts of his situation. First: He was no longer in his seal, that purgatory. This, in and of itself, meant the world to Shōkan. He had been sitting in that purgatory for so long... Second: He was in the Soul Society. Through the bars on his window, Shōkan could see the pale white towers rising in the distance, given that information, it was probable he was contained in either Squads 4 or 12. Third: His zanpakuto was gone.
When Shōkan said gone, he didn't mean it wasn't with him. He meant that it was gone. Even when a shinigami is seperated from there zanpakuto, they can still feel their connection to it. No matter how far away, a zanpakuto is such a fundemental part of a shinigami that the lack of one can be fekt instantly, especially by someone as in touch with his as Shōkan was. Taking this information, Shōkan could only deduce that his zanpakuto had been destroyed somehow... Completely and utterly, so much so that it left a scar upon his soul. Shōkan could feel the ache of it in his chest, his soul yearning for the piece of it that was missing.
Shōkan took this in... He mourned the loss of his zanpakuto. To Shōkan, it was not only a weapon to be used in battle, Honō-Haraikiyome was more than that, so much more. His zanpakuto was his best friend, and closest confidant. Someone he could always trust. And losing that, left a void almost as large as losing the piece of his soul that it represented. Shōkan felt a single tear roll down his cheek... "Goodbye, old friend..." With those words, Shōkan strengthened his resolve, and squared his shoulders. He had to continue on, with or withoutHonō-Haraikiyome... He sighed, waiting for the door to open, so he could find out more about his current situation...
Squad 4 Barracks
7:00 A.M.
The early morning light filtered through the blinds of the window to the side of Shōkan's bed. He sat inside a small room in the squad 4 barracks, wearing the simple white robe provided for all patients of Squad 4. The main difference between Shōkan's room and that of normal patients, was that the door and window were both barred, and sealed with some sort of kidou. When he first woke up, Shōkan panicked, he had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was- No, now wasn't the time to dwell on that. While Shōkan was sure he could find a way out of the hospital cell, he decided to patient and sat on his bed, waiting. He found more than adequate stimulus in his surroundings.
{Play}
The motes of dust, visible in the light, drifting all around him. The soft, yet harsh scent of cleaning chemicals reaching his nose. The very feel of the air on his cheeks. Shōkan marveled as all of these sights, smells, and feeling assualted his senses. After so long without even the simple pleasures of a breath of fresh air, Shōkan gave himself into the stimuli around him. Smelled the scents, saw the sights, and not just in the way that many trained warriors do, observing his surroundings, but taking them in, really focusing on the sights and smells and feels themselves, not just what they meant.
Not that Shōkan devoted all of his attention to his surroundings. His mind raced a mile a minute. What had happened? How had he gotten out? Where was he? and more importantly, when was he? So, in the pursuit of sating this thirst for knowledge, Shōkan began laying out the facts of his situation. First: He was no longer in his seal, that purgatory. This, in and of itself, meant the world to Shōkan. He had been sitting in that purgatory for so long... Second: He was in the Soul Society. Through the bars on his window, Shōkan could see the pale white towers rising in the distance, given that information, it was probable he was contained in either Squads 4 or 12. Third: His zanpakuto was gone.
When Shōkan said gone, he didn't mean it wasn't with him. He meant that it was gone. Even when a shinigami is seperated from there zanpakuto, they can still feel their connection to it. No matter how far away, a zanpakuto is such a fundemental part of a shinigami that the lack of one can be fekt instantly, especially by someone as in touch with his as Shōkan was. Taking this information, Shōkan could only deduce that his zanpakuto had been destroyed somehow... Completely and utterly, so much so that it left a scar upon his soul. Shōkan could feel the ache of it in his chest, his soul yearning for the piece of it that was missing.
Shōkan took this in... He mourned the loss of his zanpakuto. To Shōkan, it was not only a weapon to be used in battle, Honō-Haraikiyome was more than that, so much more. His zanpakuto was his best friend, and closest confidant. Someone he could always trust. And losing that, left a void almost as large as losing the piece of his soul that it represented. Shōkan felt a single tear roll down his cheek... "Goodbye, old friend..." With those words, Shōkan strengthened his resolve, and squared his shoulders. He had to continue on, with or withoutHonō-Haraikiyome... He sighed, waiting for the door to open, so he could find out more about his current situation...