The Rogues: A Powerhouse Team [PG13, Medium, NDE]

[Douma]

Douma felt the stranger’s presence before he was approached. A powerful rogue, much like himself. He didn’t hold as much raw spiritual strength as Douma, but pure numbers only meant so much, so the masked man wasn’t quick to judge. Instead, he gave the other rogue the benefit of the doubt. “You’re stronger than the last two… AHAHA! I'd love the chance to break you." Douma wasn’t surprised that he was the strongest that the stranger had encountered, but if it was only out of three individuals total, that didn’t mean much.

You're really strong… I can sense how strong you are. I really hope you'll consider us." High energy sensory. Team Josai. So Callus had his scouts finding powerful rogues around Tokyo and recruiting them. That was logical. However, Douma wasn’t a team player. He excelled in group combat, but in the end, he was driven by his own agenda. Callus’s moral campaign meant nothing to the Angel of Silence, but if he could milk powerful secrets from Callus and his team, it just might be interesting.

The mercenary followed Kuruna to Callus’s lair, passing Garret out along the way. This one is interesting… His heart was filled with rage and hatred. His soul was tainted with unexplainable corruption. Douma knew he would have to find the muscular man once more, but for now, Callus demanded Douma’s attention. Not Garret. Not Kuruna or his clone, although that ability was unique. It had to be one outside of his release. Heh, I used to be able to do that… However, the mirror individuals that Douma could split his soul into were dead. In their place was a new, more fearsome power.

When Douma was close enough, he too would be exposed to Callus’s immense spiritual presence. Kagami Murai had once spent a good deal of time with the Captain Commander while he acted as the Vice Captain of Squad 1, and in that time, Ningen only revealed his true strength once for a brief moment. Callus’s unbound aura rivaled that of the Captain Commander, and just nearby made beads of sweat form behind his mask. Lord Callus exceeded any expectations that Douma had prior to that moment.

Douma was eager to speak to Callus, but it wasn’t his turn yet. He walked in on Callus’s offer to another woman. This rogue wasn’t too impressive spiritually, but there had to be more to her if Callus had taken personal interest. The woman wasn’t mesmerized by his aura or words. She kept her head cool, labeling his intent as “evil” as if the word had any meaning. However, she didn’t bother with morals. She was Douma’s type. Cooperation in exchange for power, healing, and the freedom to pursue her own personal goals. I’ll take what she’s having.

"Oh, it's you... Kagami Murai..." That name… it follows him everywhere, like a ghost. "It's been a long time. Douma now, right?” A light bulb in Douma’s mind went off. At first, he had been overwhelmed by Callus’s presence. Now, he realized that the powerful reiatsu signature before him was one that he encountered a long time ago in a hospital. “You've done so well with the start that I gave you! I am impressed at how powerful you've grown in this short span of time." Douma looked down to the blood red cross tucked into his sleeve. He pulled it out with his right hand and let his fingers run over it. Callus is the one who pushed him toward who he is now. Callus created Douma.

“I’m not powerful enough. I won’t be your faithful soldier, but make me strong and I’ll repay the favor. Make me stronger than all of Team Josai put together. Stronger than any Captain of Soul Society. Stronger than the most powerful Espada, De-Mona. That is my request. Then we’ll see what I can do for you.”

[Kento Waffles]

"No, I'm not a delusion," Urahara said to the crazy guy flying the plane. He didn't give a dignified response to the others. While some might find it insulting, it looked like he didn't really care about the insult that he'd received. He perked up when Kitai started using all his fancy technology in an attempt to evaluate his enemy. The jester with white skin leaned forward with a crushingly malevolent smile, his malicious intent obvious. There was no doubt, he was a perverted freak. But what kind of perverted freak? "Hmm, don't worry..." he said. "There's no need to be so on guard. I'm not interested in you. I only have interest in the strong. I only boarded this plane because I was curious as to who was piloting it."

So now Kitai was in some plane with some pervy freak, but that pervy freak also turned out to actually have no real interest in Kitai whatsoever. Urahara leaned forward with a gleam in his eye, and reached out, as if he was going to touch Kitai. Instead, he flicked his other hand forward and made a little square with his fingers, a frame which he looked at Kitai through. "Hmm, maybe you could become powerful later. I'm not sure... Until then, try not to die, okay? Maybe I'll be more interested when you've matured a little..." Suddenly, that same pervy freak was gone, as if Kitai had blinked and missed it. The plane shook aggressively at that time.

If Kitai looked out, he'd see that one of the wings had literally been torn off, and his plane was going down! It was right above the city, and if he didn't do something, he was going to die from the plane exploding on the ground. There was nothing stopping it as it fell from the mile high club back toward the city. With that kind of momentum and generated heat, there was no way anyone inside of it could survive its impact. The only way that Kitai was going to live was firstly by getting out of the plane, and secondly by finding some way not to splat when he finally reached the ground. Hurry up, Kitai! Time is ticking. And there is some trouble looming.

Back to Callus, the twisted old man's smile was unmistakably evil. Loyalty? Even fealty? He didn't care. His sole objective when speaking to Tsubaki had been to bring her to his side, after all. Whatever form it took didn't matter. She'd probably know the truth, too. She couldn't promise loyalty, but she was very unlikely to betray him. He had so much that he could give... A thousand years might pass and there would still be more she couldn't refuse. Well, after a thousand more years, he'd probably be dead, what with how old he was. In all likelihood, he wouldn't even live that much longer anyway. So, what harm was there in taking him up on his offer until he died? He and Satsujun got along, too. How much could Satsujun mind?

"We will make you better than before, be it memories, your broken mind... Or your wonderful laboratory!" Callus exclaimed, though doing so more quietly so as to be comfortable volume for Tsubaki. And his eyes were lit up as he spoke, not to mention he had that same twisted glint. His darkness... Yes, in his prime, he could have given Satsujun trouble too. Even the God of Murder would have been hard pressed against the embodiment of evil. That was it between Callus and Tsubaki though. A quick order from Callus sent away Tsubaki with one of the Kurunas, who showed her out and walked with her, saying he would show her the lab to come. And, this left Callus with Douma, who would find his own exchange.

"It's been a long time. Douma now, right? You've done so well with the start that I gave you! I am impressed at how powerful you've grown in this short span of time."

For Tsubaki, she'd be led by Kuruna, who this time would speak. "So the old man convinced you!" he said excitedly. "He has such crazy ideas on his mind, that one! A Team Meiji, a Team Waseda, and more. We're actually challenging SOUL SOCIETY! Hahahaha..." Kuruna's laugh and smile were both creepy, possessing the same evil qualities as Callus, but naturally less intense given that Callus had had some years to perfect his evil. They were on their way up. Still underground, but just a ways above Callus's own little mausoleum, throne room, whatever you want to call it. The laboratory itself, once they reached it, was a breathtaking scene unlike any other for a scientist.

The room wasn't large, initially. It had but one table for actual experimentation, and a dinky little desk in the corner. But, when Kuruna touched the table, suddenly the room expanded and was over a hundred times its original size, and was full of tables, large tubes, and devices not even Tsubaki would even have heard of, but would immediately recognize the value for. Here, one could even perform en masse experiments going down to the smallest of spiritual particles, the spiritual equivalent of what was molecular. And the dinky desk? It turned out that it beamed up with massive hologram screens that could access millennia of information.

This was the most cutting edge lab in the world. It wasn't unique, for Callus funded many others for many other scientists under him. But each of them got one. Meaning... This lab here was Tsubaki's alone. Save for assistants she hired, she would never have to share it. Another thing in particular? There was literally a station that generated live human faux bodies. Somewhat like gigai. They were identical to human bodies, but lacked any conscious value, and could be adjusted in setting to have a variety of features. They were, in other words, perfect for experimentation. Limitless test subjects. "What do you think of Team Josai's power?" Kuruna asked with a smirk.

And back to Callus again. This time, Douma had a response. Make me stronger than all of Team Josai put together. Stronger than any Captain of Soul Society. Stronger than the most powerful Espada, De-Mona. That is my request. Then we’ll see what I can do for you. Callus laughed again, air exhaling from the three nostrils of his unnatural, round, plump nose. His unnatural wrinkles crinkled, and his eyes scanned the room wildly, though whether or not they saw anything was never revealed. Instead, Callus turned his attention back to Douma again. That spiritual power behind Callus... It was the most evil of all Soul Reapers.

"Stronger than the Spirit of De-Mona... Stronger than any Captain... Kikikikiki... Your ambition is admirable! But arrogant. Indeed, I can make you more powerful than a mere Captain. I can put you on the same stage as the Spirit of De-Mona. To get there requires suffering far exceeding what made you who you are today. The suffering of millions of lifetimes... I can give it all to you, but if I do that, I want more in return than loyalty. I want every last ounce of your remaining humanity." For that moment when he said such a thing, Callus's truly evil nature became apparent in his reiatsu. A reiatsu power even stronger than the God of Murder's.

For that was Callus's forte. He was the creator of monsters. What he did... It was create evil. In fact, that was likely why he had taken an interest in broken Kagami Murai. Callus was the same kind of evil as Adalo De-Mona. One who reveled in suffering, and in creating new evil. Callus beckoned, holding a wrinkly hand up. WHOOSH! Unexpectedly, Douma's body flew into Callus's grasp, and suddenly that sickly old hand was around Douma's neck. But it wasn't choking him. It wasn't even with the intent of attack. It just happened to get Douma within touching range of Callus, using what appeared to be some sort of Kido spell.

At that moment, Callus opened his sickly mouth, allowing a large black tongue to slither out. It was forked, like a snake's. Earlier, his tongue had been normal and pink, but suddenly it wasn't. And, forked like a snake's as well as black, this tongue extended until it twisted around Douma, and it licked down the back of his neck, along bare skin. Only then did it retreat, but its retreat would go unnoticed. For one single moment of time, Douma would experience a true nightmare. For a moment, his feelings as "Douma" were suspended. All that remained in a single moment would be the heart of Kagami Murai... From before he had ever even been Douma. Before his hurt.

That innocent, naive heart of Kagami's would suddenly be subject to seeing an image of Manami dying. Being torn to shreds by a being that looked like.. and was... Douma. Kagami watching Douma kill Manami, while possessing only Kagami's heart. Then that pain which surfaced would amplify... Ten times... A hundred times... Ten thousand times... A hundred million times. An indescribable emotional pain which lasted for but one moment of time but could never be forgotten... Which would have a permanent effect of damaging and scarring Douma's psyche for the rest of his days. And then it was over. He was Douma again, but had now experienced an otherworldly pain.

Douma would suddenly find himself back where he had originally stood, with Callus's grin ever present. "That's a fraction of what you'll feel if I give you what you want. Less than a millionth of it. For you... You will transcend everything that is still pathetic about you. And if that interests you... And that pain doesn't frighten you, then come. Only... perhaps don't ask to be stronger than all of Team Josai combined. After all... How many of them do you think made the same request that you did? In the end, ALL OF YOU WILL BE MY MONSTERS. So tell me, ANGEL OF SILENCE! WILL YOU JOIN ME OR NOT?"

[Douma]

"Stronger than the Spirit of De-Mona... Stronger than any Captain... Kikikikiki... Your ambition is admirable! But arrogant. Indeed, I can make you more powerful than a mere Captain. I can put you on the same stage as the Spirit of De-Mona. To get there requires suffering far exceeding what made you who you are today. The suffering of millions of lifetimes... I can give it all to you, but if I do that, I want more in return than loyalty. I want every last ounce of your remaining humanity." A small price to pay. Unwavering loyalty wasn’t something that Douma could promise, but humanity would be easy to part with.

Callus held his hand out toward Douma, calling him. Was it beginning? Would Douma be flooded with the power that Callus could share. Douma himself had an ability that strengthened his allies. Maybe it would be that easy. He let Callus draw him in. He let himself fly like a rag doll into the monster’s hands. He let Callus’s fingers form a hold around his neck. Was this where he lost his humanity? Was he going to die? Huh, so it’s over already… Kagami used to be scared of dying, but now, Douma was oddly comforted by death. He failed. It would all be over soon.

A black, serpent tongue slid out of Callus’s mouth and slithered through the air toward Douma, wrapping itself around his neck. The slimy snake sent electric shivers up and down Douma’s body, and as it caressed the back of his neck, he felt his vision fade. First, it was all black. Then, he was there. All alone. No mask. No swords. No parasite buried into his body. No anger. Just Kagami. And the first thing that he realized was that he was all alone.

Just as his thoughts wandered toward the very girl he longed to see, her face appeared before him. Her blood covered face. Her blank eyes stared right through his gaze, like he wasn’t even there. Her limp body crumbled lifelessly into his arms, and no matter how desperately his hands clawed through the air to reach her, they fell through her body. He couldn’t reach her, and she saw right through him like he wasn’t there. Like he was a ghost.

Kagami Murai is dead…

The man’s vision blurred. He couldn’t see anything clearly except for the fading gold from the woman’s hair. Her eyelids fell like curtains, shielding the vacant light behind those pink gemstones. She was sinking into the ground, and he couldn’t follow her. She was gone. His nails cracked and the bones in his hand shattered as he tried digging through the metal to reach her, thinking only of that empty look she cast him and how he couldn’t feel her soft, warm touch.

Kagami Murai is dead…

Douma kept trying to convince himself, but no matter how many times he said it, that vision kept replaying. Manami was there again, and she died right before his eyes again. And the voice repeated itself again. Kagami Murai is dead. Kagami Murai is dead. Kagami Murai is DEAD. KAGAMI IS DEAD. KAGAMI IS DEAD. HE’S DEAD. HE’S DEAD. HE’S DEAD! MANAMI’S DEAD! AND KAGAMI DIED WITH HER! SHE’S DEAD! HE’S DEAD. DEAD! DEAD! DEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!” Screams filled the chamber. Tears streamed down the man’s face, the rivers merging to a wet lake at his neck just beneath the mask. “AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!”[/font][/b] Douma wasn’t even aware of where he was anymore. Or who he was. He didn’t feel Callus’s grasp on his neck. He didn’t notice Callus’s immense aura. He was lost. Each time that vision replayed, it hurt him more and more and more until he wanted to be dead. He wanted Callus to kill him more than anything. None of it was worth it. Manami was dead. Kagami was dead. Why was he still alive…

Suddenly, Douma was back where he stood, but his legs didn’t have the strength to hold him. His body quickly met the ground, and he just lay there, unable to get back up. Unable to find the will to move on. "That's a fraction of what you'll feel if I give you what you want. Less than a millionth of it. For you... You will transcend everything that is still pathetic about you. And if that interests you... And that pain doesn't frighten you, then come. Only... perhaps don't ask to be stronger than all of Team Josai combined. After all... How many of them do you think made the same request that you did? In the end, ALL OF YOU WILL BE MY MONSTERS. So tell me, ANGEL OF SILENCE! WILL YOU JOIN ME OR NOT?"

Stronger than all of Team Josai… Than all the Captains... Than De-Mona… That was only a fraction, and Kagami wanted nothing more to do with Callus. He couldn’t handle the pain and agony, but that’s what Douma lived off of. He needed to be stronger than Adalo. Stronger than Basilisk. He was doing failing. Failing with Manami. Failing with Adalo. Failing at hatred. If that pain was what it took to kill them all, he would gladly give in. Kagami Murai was dead. Douma was formed from his ashes, and he wanted to burn even more.

“Make me stronger than all of Team Josai combined, and then make me stronger than De-Mona…”

[RayginX]

And that was that. No threats. No yelling. Nothing more than a simple yes or no. A short exchange of dialogue, and decision that had been made and Garret was allowed to leave. It had surprised the swordsman in a way. He had been expecting Callus to disapprove of his decision, to try and insist on Garret joining with him. But no. Garret gave him his answer, and Callus had accepted it. No fighting what so ever. No conflict of words was needed. The Rogue had half expected to have to be forced to fight his way out. He was realized to see that it would not come to that. Before he left Lord Callus had some last words to give to the swordsman. An invitation to remain in the city to rest and recuperate from his journey here and to heal from his battles along the way. Callus tried to sweeten his offer by stating that there were no Hollows within the city, and with that Garret realized something.

They didn't understand how his Curse worked.

Garret looked back at Callus for a moment more before turning away again towards his shown door. The same man who had walked him in, Kuruna, had begun to walk Garret out again. As they walked that same hallway, the Rogue noticed something. Two more were coming down the hall, heading back towards the mausoleum that he had just left. A man who wore an odd mask and the other being....Kuruna? Garret blinked but did not show concern. Something was certainly going on here, but he decided that it was best to not raise a fuse over it. If Team Josai wanted to flaunt their power with magicians tricks then by all means allow them. Passing the second Kuruna and the masked man, Garrets gaze remained straightforward. He didn't pay the masked man any attention, not at all being interested in the other Rogue.

The rain was back. Looking up at the clouded sky as rain droplets fell onto his skin, he sighed. That was that. Now he needed to get out of this city. Kuruna vanished back inside, Garret watching those doors shut behind him, leaving the Rogue to his own devices and decisions. He remembered the way he had come in and would use that route to get back out. He had plenty of time to vacate the city, get as far away as possible before the night came, and not risk the storm that would be coming. In a city like this, with so much spiritual energy that even he with no sensory capabilities could feel it, the number of Hollows draw in would be uncountable.

He didn't want to take part in a losing battle like that. Footsteps mixed with splashed became his company again as he began to trek back through the city of Tokyo. As he walked however he was aware of how empty this corner of the metropolis felt. In fact the only person he saw was a small child playing in the road. And heading towards her was one of those horseless carriages, a vehicle as they were called. That screeching echoed in his ears, the Rogue blinking as he watched the vehicle fail to slow down. The young child raised her arms in preparation for the oncoming collision...

Metal on metal was heard as the vehicle buckled in on itself, smashed against something far sturdier and stronger than it. The Rogue had suddenly appeared before the child, that cloak of his fluttering in the wind as he faced towards the now stopped vehicle. His right hand wrapped around the hilt of his weapon, left arm placed against the broad side of the blade, the Rogue had used his giant sword to stop the car. He had used Shunpo to travel the distance in an instant and using both his physical strength and durable sword had become a living wall for the car to crash into. The car had buckled in on itself, dented in around him and the weapon.

With a sigh he pushed away, looking at the stunned individual behind the glass window. Turning the Rogue looked down at the small girl, that single eye of his resting on her with a gaze softer than he normally gave to other people. Garret found it hard to be as rough as he was with children. It wasn't that he liked them, on the contrary he could find them to be quite annoying, but perhaps it was because of how close he had come to being a father that he found himself gentler, more human, with them. "Are you okay?" He asked, pulling his sword free of its impalement in the road and returning it to its holder across his back, flicking his cloak so that it covered both him and his weapon again.

Remaining Reiatsu: 4450 / 4500
-50 for Shunpo

[Kento Waffles]

I have MUSIC!

The smell of burnt rubber and ruptured engines seeped into the air even as the rain beat down mercilessly over the violent scene. The truck's driver was slumped over with his face against the steering wheel, pressed with his head's full weight. This in turn set off the horn of the truck, a continuous blaring which compared to the palpable tension in the air would go unnoticed. There was white steam rising from the ruination of the vehicle that had been on its way to taking away an innocent life. Both Garret and this young girl were drenched, their very bones made to feel the chill of the cold water which cascaded down from the sky like a waterfall from the heavens.

She, who was dressed in a bright orange raincoat with the hood drawn up, looked upward toward her savior. Garret might be struck by the darling brown eyes that glistened in his direction with tears of shock, fear, and trauma from what had just transpired. How long had it been since he'd been able to experience any kind of tender moment with any living creature now? Just how long had he been on his journey, plagued by the emptiness, hunger, and greed of the soulless creatures that always came for him. Just how long had he been cursed...? Did he even remember anymore? Little by little, the young girl's lips parted to form words. "I'm... I'm okay..." she whispered, her voice breaking to form words, the loud sounds ringing in her ears, the adrenaline making her quiver.

Where Douma was located, his face was likely matted with the salt, stickiness, and dampness of his own tears, which from the lids of his eyes had fallen to meet one another at the base of his chin, and then continue down his neck. Across the room there sat a terrible old man who had spent more than one lifetime creating this kind of misery for others. Douma was where he was because he had been met with one unfortunate circumstance after another, one monster to pursue the next. And each time he encountered one of these monsters, as was the case for all who encountered them, a part of him too was lost. The old man stood up, taking from the side of his iron chair a beautifully made, brown wooden cane with a gold stud at the end of it.

Carefully, so as now to overdo it, Callus took his steps carefully from his throne. In his other hand, the chains connected to his naked human servants tugged, and they looked up, eyes wide with terror, and gradually began to follow his slow march toward Douma. Cowering on all fours around him as they moved, their demeanor more reminiscent of abused hounds than broken humans, they whined and wept with their tongues out as Callus continued forward. His two guards moved too, following on either side of the room. Reaching Douma, Callus stood over the broken man that could no longer stand. From his lips too, words were uttered. "You will have your power, but not as a broken man. I will have you be less than a man, my tender Angel of Silence. Kikikikiki..."

In Garret's protection there stood a girl whose eyes were wide with terror, and who suddenly looked around to see that she was close, very close, to actual physical contact with her savior. She suddenly backed away, as if regaining her senses. "W-wait!" she stuttered. "Y-you mustn't t-touch me. Please..." What was in her eyes was not fear of Garret or of her near death experience. It was concern for Garret, and fear of herself. And Garret could only know that look all too well. Any time he saw his own reflection, that fear of something he couldn't control must surely be reflected in his eyes, too. That same resignation to his own cursed fate. She had it, too.

Douma would find himself, still unable to move, being dragged across a completely metal hallway, his legs dragging and his mind not yet fixed. He was being pulled by two clones of Kuruna, followed behind by Callus, his guards, and his little human dogs. Barefoot, Callus's feet made quiet slapping sounds on the cool alloys that made the floor of the hall. The dragging sounds of his human pets along with their whimpering combined with the sounds of Kuruna's footsteps and those of Callus's guards to make an ugly cacophony that bled into the serenity of Callus's own sound of walking, and the occasional clatter of his cane meeting the metal, too.

The girl backed away from Garret more, holding her hands behind her back. "I... Thank you for saving me..." she stammered. "B-but I have t-to l-leave this c-city. I... I don't know how I wandered in here, b-but I have to g-go... I'm... I'm too dangerous..." To most people, she wouldn't be making any sense. To Garret, it might very well make sense. Here, by luck, or maybe not, there was an individual who bore something similar to himself. A stray cat, weary of the rain, suddenly wandered past the girl, and stopped. It looked at her, and she looked down at it. The cat, though soaking wet, purred, and came up to the girl, trying to nudge up against her. "N-NO!" the girl shrieked. "STAY AWAY! PLEASE STAY AWAY!"

Douma had been stripped naked, and his body rested on the inside of a large glass container filled with a strange, murky green liquid. Over his mouth was an apparatus for breathing. It was loud, pumping air into his lungs and removing it too for exhalation. "How long is he supposed to be in there?" Kuruna asked. "An hour, for the first treatment," Callus said. "Any longer and he'll die." Kuruna paused. "Is this what Shiratori went through?" Callus beamed. "Yesss..." he said. "The nightmares. The nightmares that all of you will come to experience in due time. Shiratori was only the first. I will have you all give me your humanity. That's the price of REAL power. As I'm sure you know all too well, Kuruna-Kun. Kikikikiki..."

As the cat nudged against the girl, it gasped, and a putrid smelling black smoke erupted around its fur. In seconds, the fur had fallen from the soaked cat, and it collapsed as nothing more than bones while the young girl fell to her knees with tears overflowing from her eyes and blending with the rain. Her knees fell into a deep puddle, which caused her to lose her balance and fall face first into it, drenching her with filthy puddle water. She scrambled up, still crying, her face now dirty, and stood up. "Th-thank you again..." she whispered to Garret. The girl turned from him and began to walk away. It was a matter of what Garret felt in his old, broken heart now.

Douma, in the tank, was not Douma. He was Kagami again. Just Kagami, none of that rage, none of what had created Douma. His heart once again naive. That was until he again saw Manami's death at the hands of Douma. And it was also until he saw more. His friend, Hotaru, being killed by Douma. Every girl he had ever slept with being killed by Douma. The Soul Society being exterminated by the Vandenreich. He would also see himself, an image, being violently mutilated by Adalo De-Mona. The pain he had experienced in Callus's mausoleum would return, but stronger. Ten times that. A thousand times that. A billion times that. And even still, it wasn't enough to equal what had created the Spirit of De-Mona. But with time, it might be. For now, he would experience this dreaded pain, this time not for a mere moment, but for a full hour... And then, when it was over, the liquid would drain from the tank and he would be left there, cold, naked, waiting for someone to enter the room and free him. If his mind wasn't broken, it would be beyond miraculous.

[Douma]

"You will have your power, but not as a broken man. I will have you be less than a man, my tender Angel of Silence. Kikikikiki..."

As that horrendous laughter faded into the darkness and Kagami slipped into unconsciousness, he lost all awareness. He didn’t feel his body being dragged to a new room. He didn’t notice the mechanic device breathing for him as he was placed into a sealed glass container filled with a thin, green fluid. Kuruna and Callus conversed on the other side of the glass, but their words didn’t reach Kagami. He was being pulled into more terrifying visions.

At first it was Manami again. He watched her die over and over until the nightmare couldn’t be unseen. Until it burned like a searing hot iron, stripping him of his sanity. By the time he grew accustomed to the agony, the visions changed. It was Manami again. This time, she could see him. Those pink eyes met his, and her face was illuminated with a flawless smile. Her hand beckoned him toward her elegantly, and Kagami found his feet moving on their own, like she had cast a spell over him. Each step was faster and longer than the one before it, and eventually he was sprinting to close the distance between them as quickly as possible.

As Kagami approached Manami, his arms were extended. He wanted to hold her for the first time in decades, smell flowers through her hair, and express his love for her as he should. He saw it all playing out so beautiful, like a Hollywood movie where they hero gets the girl to forgive his foolish mistakes so that they could live happily ever after. Kagami was so willing to follow that script and reach that ending, but just as he drew near, a blade suddenly appeared in his hand, piercing through Manami’s heart with no resistance. The only sign that it had past through her was the red coating on the blade. Suddenly, Kagami was hit with a sense of de javu as the hopelessness and denial swept through him. It was happening again. The light behind her eyes were suddenly gone, and she fell through his arms. He had only been exposed to the second half of the nightmare before, but now, he had witnessed the full picture. Just like before, it was playing on repeat.

That hour felt like years. Douma saw them all. Every girl that he had ever slept with appeared before him, and he cut them down with such ease and indifference. One after another, they fell, and between each one, he killed Manami. He wasn’t allowed to forget. She kept coming back to haunt him. Each time he ended the life of another insignificant woman, he kept coming back to the only one who mattered to him. And then he finally came to Hotaru, the one person that he could never confront again. Kagami excelled at pushing people away, but Hotaru was a friend in every sense of the word, and he had let her down. He wanted to apologize for the pain that he caused her, for his dishonest, for hiding behind his mask. But, just like the others, she fell and his soul was ripped to even tinier shreds.

Once Douma’s time was over, he was numb. Nothing was real anymore. It was all just another dream. He forced his eyelids open, at first expecting to see Manami’s ghost waiting for him. The green haze from the water clouded his vision, and he gave up on the present. He was too tired to realize where he was and what he was doing. Kagami was sinking, and the deeper he went, the darker he got. His eyes shut once more, and he gave into the black, knowing full well that Manami waited somewhere down there for him. As Douma’s exhausted body pushed him toward sleep, where his nightmares manifested once more, but and Kagami wasn’t there to fight him. All that will was gone, and in its absence was a festering, bubbling rage that flowed through his veins. Kagami was finally dead.

[RayginX]

Those tired eyes stared down at the young lass adorned in yellow. His were met by her own brown, mixed within those muddy irises he recognized fear and confusion. He was silent as he looked at her, awaiting a response to his question. Physically she seemed , but Garret was well aware how sensitive children were to trauma. She had come close to death, so who knows how she was taking it inside herself. It wasn't too long before she responded to him, setting his concern aside when she confirmed herself fine. Garret sighed, turning once again to look at the metallic vehicle that had nearly run her over. He pulled himself away from it, not really concerned about the man behind the wheel. His negligence had punished him already and he would now have to suffer the consequences of his actions.

Turning his attention back to the child, Garret had begun to approach her in order to try his best and consul her, but as he made that step forward she suddenly had an adverse reaction to his action. The man blinked in response to her pleas, lowering his raised hand as he headed her warning. What was she ranting about? Why did Garret see that fear in her eyes? It wasn't fear directed at him, rather it was fear for him. The Rogue narrowed his eye, hiding his arm back beneath his cloak as he listened to her. He listened...and he understood. The way she was reacting, the fear he saw in her eyes, it was something that he too easily recognized. He closed his eye, sighing to himself, opening it back up and hearing her confusion on how she got into the city. He watched as the small animal approached her, lured to her no doubt because she was so young.

The young lass reacted appropriately, and the instant contact was made between them he watched as the life was, literally, burnt away from the cat. He watched as it was reduced to nothing more than a skeleton, and the reaction the young lass was having to it. He blinked, staring down at her, watching and studying her. She voiced one last line of thanks, drenched in rain and puddle water, and began to leave. Garret allowed her to take a few steps before his voice drowned out the rain, "It doesn't get better."

A silence grew between the two for a minute, Garret letting the weight of his words sink into her. To anyone else it would have sounded like a terrible thing to say, something someone with no heart would tell a girl to shatter whatever hopes the child had. But that's what Garret had to do. "That blackness inside of you will never go away. It will persist, grow stronger, and eventually become too much to bear." Garret explained, his voice remaining at a steady and constant tone as he explained this to the girl. He wasn't one who was good with words. He was a man of action not of speech. "So you need to find something to hold onto. Something to keep you going. A memory, a friend, a promise...an emotion. Anything. Because it's all on you. You can either let it consume you...or you can fight back...and rip your life back from that darkness." Garret explained, suddenly draping the child in his cloak, exposing his body to the rain. He was careful not to allow contact between himself, the cloak, and her, basically dropping the thing on her head.

A sleeveless tank top, originally gray in color but stained red in a number of places was all that he wore on his torso. It was something he had...acquired...but that wasn't the point. The young child was now covered in his cloak, something that would keep her far more dry and warm than that small jacket would. The man looked down at her, a strange softness in that hard gaze of his. If she looked upon his form she would see them. The man's body was a mountain of muscle, but covering nearly every inch of his skin were scars. Scars of various shapes and sizes. In fact, there were even bandages wrapped around his left arm, a noticeable red stain erasing the whiteness of the fabric. His body looked much like a housewife's cutting board in all honesty.

"It doesn't get better unless you make it better. Fight for it." Garret said, turning away from the girl and returning in the direction he was originally heading. He hadn't expected to find someone with something like him, but she would understand why he had to leave her. Strugglers were not people who could be around others. Those who bore the Osen Curse were dangers to both themselves and other people. The idea that they who were afflicted could find normalcy, find a life amongst others, was a falsehood. A dream. A lie. They were destined for lives of loneliness and negativity. A life where they had to fight. A life where they had to find their own meaning for living. Their own reason. He did not avoid people because he hated them; he avoided them to protect them. For him his life had one meaning...revenge.

Who knows what meaning that the child had. He had no idea if she would ever even be able to make it. All he knew was she had her own path and he had his own. And it was best if they who were inflicted did not band together. It spelled of disaster. His own path was one that would lead him deeper into the darkness, while he hoped that hers would be one that would lead her further into the light. So he left to descend back into that darkness, right back into those smirking fangs.

[Kitai Yoru]

Kitai was not a nice person, and many who spent even a few minutes with him would readily admit that. Heck, he's seen mothers pull their children away from him, and lovers pulling their other out of his path. An aura of malintent almost constantly clung to his form like a coat. but even still, the madman still held certain morals. He was largely against killing others that held a human form. He could and would slaughter hollows in droves, but he refused to cut down those who were human. He wasn't a hero, but he hated to see the death of his fellow man. And that's what has Kitai in such a bad position.

After the pink man up and mother f#*king TELEPORTED AWAY, Kitai went into a slight daze, wondering what in the h#ll just happened. "Our delusions are becoming bigger and bigger a$$ ho-" 'BOOM' An explosion interupted the albino's rambling, as the airplane suddenly shook violently, and started falling in a downward nosedive. "WHAT THE DEUCE!?" Jack yelled out, fooling around with the buttons to try and fix whatever just blew up. "WE DUN KNA HOW TA FLY DIS TING, DUMB A$$!" Jill yelled. They could hear the rushing of wind, and ran towards the noise, abandoning the controls.

Spotting the issue, Kitai could only think of one thing to say. "Oh that little pink mother f*#ker." 'The door was blasted off its hinges, and beyond the threshold he spied a wing. Off in the distance. NOT ATTACHED TO THE BLOODY PLANE! Hurry up you brainless oaf, get out while we still have time!' Jack narrated at the glutton. They all knew they could survive a fall from this height, terminal velocity was a pain on the knees, but their body wouldn't break from something like that.

But Kitai was hesitating. It's true that he'd survive the fall, but what about the people below? The plane would crash down and kill dozens, maybe even a hundred or more depending on what he hit, since he hadn't cleared the city limits before that guy happened. He didn't want to be responsible for the death of humans- no, he refused to be responsible for their deaths. But the only way he could save them would leave him running on fumes in a city filled with fake Heretics, and on an even larger scale than usual.

The lives of innocents or his own skin. Tough call.

'NO IT AIN'T YA DUMB F@#K! MY SKIN IS WERTH WAY MUR DEN DOSE SH*#S!' Ignoring the harpy in his head, he moved. He had less then a minute to act. The oxygen tubes had deployed long ago, most likely after the wing fell off. Securing one to his face, he activated the first stage of his fullbring, relishing in the sight of it. A cannon slid out from the inside of his left sleeve, silver in color. 'What are you doing you stupid hog!?' He aimed up towards the back of the plane while holding onto the seats. All the spinning was making him dizzy. He fired, launching a ball of cheese towards his target.

It flew for only a second, before his fullbring changed again, robbing even more of his energy, tiring him out immensely. His cannon was now a forest green, and in the second stage of fullbring. Whipping his arm around, he fired another three shots. One headed straight for the front of the plane, while the other two landed on the floors of the second class and third class rows respectively. The first shot he fired would have normally ripped straight through the tail of the plane, but while he was in his second stage, he could control them effortlessly.

So he did.

He controlled them, and forced them to hold the plane up from inside it. It was still falling though. He needed to catch the severed wing, or it could still kill someone. He forced the plane down, shackley gliding it, letting it fall at its natural speed, only manipulating where it was headed. He was now holding onto the doorway. He stomped his feet through the floor, helping him stay in place. It took a good twenty seconds to reach the wing. It was spinning through the air at a lazy pace. He had to catch it.

He let go of the door frame, only remaining in the vehicle by his feet. He couldn't hold anything with his left arm. His fullbring fused with his arm when he used it, leaving him with a cannon for a hand. So he was left with grabbing at the wing with his one hand. It took him three tries, and twenty seconds, but he managed to get a grip on it. He was forced to grit his teeth for the effort though, as he had his cheese balls slow the plane, nearly causing him to loose his grip, but he was able to safely land the plane without an explosion.

Once the edge of the wing was touching the ground, he leaned it against the side of a building. He set the plane in a similar position on the opposite side. Kitai ripped his feet out of the floor, and toppled out onto the ground. He laid there on his back, arms and legs spread out, his hat somehow still on his head, and with no smile on his face. He stared into the raining sky, now soaking him to the bone, as he panted and gasped for breath. His fullbring was still active, as he thought of only one thing to say at a time like this. "YOU PINK A$$ H*LE!!!"

Reiatsu remaining: 50/750
Fullbring duration: 1/13

[Kento Waffles]

In the blackness of absolute misery, Douma might see the causes. Manami. Kagami. Adalo. All those who had made Douma by forging pain like a sword. Together in unison their lips moving, saying something... Wake up... they might beckon. Awaken now... Maskless, naked, but still it was irrelevant. Kagami wasn't the face anymore. The face was Douma. Certainly, there were vestiges of Kagami. They weren't fully gone yet. Not so soon. Only, Kagami hadn't been tortured like this. There was a difference between Kagami who had been and Kagami that had experienced Callus's torture. Thus he was now a different person. Traumatized into painful silence, the Angel of Silence, Douma. And still, his tortures moved their mouths.

"Oiiii..." their voices went, until slowly they transitioned into a very real, male voice. "Oiiiii...." If he opened his eyes, he would see who was speaking to him. Here was a young man, around university age, with very stylish brown hair and warm brown eyes. "You alive?" the man asked. Coming up next to him, Douma would see his companion, a second man... Sozen Kuchiki?! No, pause. A closer look, and it wasn't Sozen. It couldn't be. He was younger than Sozen, despite the striking, uncanny resemblance, and wore rectangular glasses. His hair was also less well kept than Sozen's, and despite Sozen Kuchiki having a bit of a nasty side, this guy seemed just a bit more malevolent and mischievous.

"Ahhh damn, looks like he's dead!" the Sozen look-a-like lamented mockingly, throwing his head back dramatically and putting a hand through his hair. "So-chan, you shouldn't speak when you don't know what you're talking about!" the man with brown hair exclaimed. "Hey, don't call me that..." the Sozen lookalike said in an irritated response. The brown haired man pulled up Douma by the hair, showing his face. "See? Look. He's alive." The Sozen lookalike closed his eyes in irritation. "Yeah, I got that... I was speaking condescendingly." The Sozen lookalike sighed. The brown haired man suddenly gasped. "So-chan!" he exclaimed, getting an irritated look from the Sozen lookalike, who didn't answer.

"That was really mean!" the brown haired man exclaimed. "You should be nicer to this guy, So-chan." Sozen's lookalike came forward, drawing his sword. "Maybe I'll just kill you, then," he said with a huge, evil, satisfied smirk on his face as he approached the brown haired man. "Ahhhh don't killll meeeee!!!" the brown haired man exclaimed as the Sozen lookalike grabbed his collar and held a blade to his neck. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" The Sozen lookalike, satisfied, retracted his blade and backed off, sheathing it once again. So, there stood the two of them. The brown haired man picked up Douma again. "Hey, are you well? You want to go on a mission with us right now? Not sure Callus would approve, but, why not, right?"

"He's a bit broken right now..." the Sozen lookalike said. "I'm not sure he can exactly fight against strong Soul Reapers, you know?" The brown haired man looked at Sozen, perplexed. "So-chan," he asked with a smile. "Are you Douma's mom?" Sozen's lookalike again took on an irritated face, and reached for his sword again. The brown haired man released a squeak of terror. It would likely be around this time that the effects of Callus's torture, not even close to wearing off, would at least have become distant enough for Douma to actually be able to speak to the both of these people, who were asking him to go with them on some sort of mission.

Over where Garret was, the girl was speechless as he spoke to her. Why wouldn't she be? How long had it been since she'd started this curse? Just how long had she been hurting? Garret, too. His path was one of hurt just the same as hers was. Of loneliness. Isolation. Protecting others from oneself. Still, as he walked away, seeking to leave her, he'd hear through her garbled crying a single message, and the sound of her dropping again to her knees in anguish. "P...please!" she exclaimed as Garret attempted to walk away. "Teach me how to be strong! I'm begging you! Please..." She was clearly desperate, and, now, barely able to contain herself, she blurted out everything.

"For two years, everything that touches me has died! It doesn't matter if I cover up my skin. It touches me, and it dies. WHY DOES EVERYTHING AROUND ME HAVE TO DIE? WHY DO I HAVE THIS CURSE?! I can't take it anymore... I can't... My parents are dead... All of my friends are dead... Everyone I've ever loved or was near is dead... And it's my fault. It's me... I killed them all... If... If you understand how I feel... If you're suffering too, then please... Please teach me. Please take me with you. I know that's dysfunctional, and desperate, and stupid, but... I'm just so tired of being alone... I'll leave whenever you want, just... Please... Teach me first... PLEASE..."

A moment when Garret's heart should be breaking. Splintering just like that into a million tiny pieces. Or maybe not. Maybe he was so hardened that nothing could hurt him anymore except for the memories that drove him and the darkness of a life that was painted the color of revenge. Revenge, the most vile thing one could sink into. The thing that dragged humanity to its lowest point and made people into monsters. Many had come out of revenge. Garret, Douma... And other monsters too. Those who did not act as victims but acted upon others as assailants.. Monsters like the mythical Spirit of De-Mona. And so here was Garret, faced with yet another victim whose life was near to darkness as his own was.

Meanwhile, Kitai, having landed, was going to have a bit of a shock. Suddenly, his entire Fullbring... shattered! And sealed up again. As did the item it belonged to. Completely shattered into pieces. Out of nowhere, the instant he landed and after he had saved the plane and everyone in the city. His Fullbring had broken. And suddenly, there was that very same jester that had taken down his plane. "Ohhh? Despite its utilities, it was much more fragile than I thought it would be..." the jester named Urahara Kisuke said. What?! Had he broken Kitai's Fullbring?! Without it, what was Kitai to do here in this terrifying city? Why was it broken? Who was this guy that was messing with him?!

"Oh, don't think I'm attacking you," the jester told Kitai. "Actually I just pitied you, really. You seemed so weak, and your Fullbring wasn't that great anyway if it was so easy for me to destroy. Honestly..." Still, with a broken Fullbring like that, what was Kitai to do?! He couldn't really do much anymore without his Fullbring. He still had powers, but not enough to compete with others who also had powers now. Then again, even with said powers, he hadn't even been able to see what took out his Fullbring or the plane wing, and he hadn't been able to see why this guy seemed so strong. The jester threw something at Kitai, which, if he'd caught, he would find was a playing card. An ace of spades with an address written on it.

"Here, go to the bar in that casino," Kisuke said to Kitai. "Show him this card, and he'll help you out. And, maybe, just maybe, we can be friends after you've arranged everything in your life and become a stronger person! ♠" Suddenly, the jester was gone. Just like that. What the hell?! It was so sudden. So abrupt. Like madness. There was no build up. No character development. No plot arc. Kitai stole a plane, some guy showed up and destroyed the plane and Kitai's Fullbring. That was it. Not even a battle or a dramatic encounter. And suddenly he was sending a broken Kitai to this casino or whatever in Tokyo?! And for what? Well, now Kitai had some options at least. Trust the jester...or go elsewhere? He could actually likely get his Fullbring fixed if he went to the right person, or... the casino?

SPOILER: Click to show

{Douma's new acquaintances}



Sozen Mumei. Class 1, rank level 3, Soldier type. This guy is Team Josai's second strongest.

Strength: 100 (50)
Speed: 400
Spiritual Pressure: 350
Reiatsu Strength: 400 (800)
Light/Dark Aura: 0/100
Instinct: 175
Senses: 175
Energy Sensory: 0
Healing Expertise: 0
Total SP: 1600

[Swords] [4]
[Demon Fighting] [4]
[Battle Analysis] [3]
[Strength of Will] [3]
[Analysis] [3]
[Memory] [2]

---

Shiratori Kawada. Rank level 4, class 1. LEADER of Team Josai, and subsequently a Leader Type.

Strength: 200 (100) (50)
Speed: 350 (700)
Reiatsu Strength: 400 (1000)
Spiritual Pressure: 300
Light/Dark Aura: 50/50
Instinct: 175
Senses: 175
Energy Sensory: 0
Healing Expertise: 0
Total SP: 1600

[Martial Art: Hakura] [4]
[Sword Art: Bloody Fellow] [3]
[Battle Analysis] [4]
[Strength of Will] [3]
[Battle Focus] [3]
[Illusion Resist] [2]

[Douma]

“Wake up...”

The sweet, gentle voice broke the dark silence of Douma’s sleep. It repeated itself. “Wake up… wake up…” It was Manami’s warm voice, the one Kagami had woken up to so many years ago. Before, it made his heart skip a beat. Now, however, he was completely indifferent to the woman. She was a stranger. And as she spoke, another voice joined in. “Hey! Get up, man. Get up… Get up…” Damon, his friend from his early years as a Shinigami. Before, he had mourned his deceased ally and partner-in-crime. Now, however, it meant nothing. More voices joined in. Anastasia Solis-Kuchiki. Takehiko Kuchiki. Hotaru Kuchiki. Kagami’s parents.

They each added their own voices into the cacophony of sound until the man couldn’t make out any of their words anymore. It was just one sound repeated by each individual. “Oiiii. Oiii. Oiii. Oiii.” So much sound. “Oiii. Oii. Oii.” The man’s head was pounding in his skull. “Oiii. Oiii. Oiii. Oiii.” The chaos was overwhelming, and just when he thought that he couldn’t take it any longer

”Awaken now…” The voice of De-Mona pulled him from his sleep.

"Oiiiii...." Douma’s eyes fluttered open, revealing two blurry figures. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he’d be able to distinguish their features. The first man had a kind, young face with brown hair and brown eyes. "You alive?" Douma’s mind wasn’t collected yet, so he hadn’t registered that he was asked a question. Instead, in his dazed state, his gaze silently wandered over to the other man, shocked to find himself sitting across from Sozen Kuchiki. Well, a younger Souzen Kuchiki. He was very similar in appearance to both the Crimson King and his son, Souza, and had Kagami not worked so closely with Souza, he might have mistaken the man across from his for the Kuchiki heir.

"Ahhh damn, looks like he's dead!" "So-chan, you shouldn't speak when you don't know what you're talking about!" "Hey, don't call me that..." Douma watched them squabble for a second, debating whether he was still dreaming or not. But this had to be real. He could feel their reiatsu, and that wasn’t something he could make up. The miniature Sozen didn’t have the same raw power that Sozen did, but he was still notably strong. The other man, however, was on par with Anarchy when it came to reiatsu strength, and that was impressive. In pure offensive power, he was equal to Douma.

And they were both rogues. These two individuals had to be other members from Team Josai. As these thoughts went racing through Douma’s head, the brown-haired man grabbed him by the hair. "See? Look. He's alive." Douma’s hair was released as the two began to squabble once more. Rather than paying attention to what felt like a play-fight, Douma instead tried exercising his control over his body. His mind felt numb with pain, so moving his arms and legs was a struggle at first. It wasn’t about finding the energy to stand, but rather the will to get on his feet. The only thing driving him at this point was pain and rage, and that was enough to make him move.

"Hey, are you well? You want to go on a mission with us right now? Not sure Callus would approve, but, why not, right?" A mission… for Callus… Oh, because Douma was a part of Team Josai now. That’s right. He was supposed to do missions. That was his job. In exchange for doing missions, he’d get stronger. He’d feel more pain. He’d see those nightmares again and again, but it’d be worth it. He needed to kill De-Mona.

"He's a bit broken right now... I'm not sure he can exactly fight against strong Soul Reapers, you know?" Broken? No, broken wasn’t the right word. Empty. He wasn’t a person anymore. He didn’t have dreams and aspirations. He was void of such human things. The only human part of him at this point was his rage, and he was more angry than he had ever been in his life. "Are you Douma's mom?" the brown-haired man teased. Douma wasn’t in the mood to play along.

The rogue found his mask and clothes in the corner of the room and began dressing, making sure that all his items were accounted for. With his black sword strapped to his hip, he dawned his bone-white mask once more and slipped the blood red cross over his wrist, letting it hide in the shadows of his sleeve. “Let's go,” he told the men before him. There was no time for introductions or pleasantries. Douma was in the mood to kill some strong Soul Reapers.

[RayginX]

Sorry for the wait and bleh post, not feeling the muse all the way right now but I'm sure that'll change

Those heavy footsteps came to a stop, water accumulating around his feet as he remained still and seeping its way into his boots. Garret remained there, the rain coming down and dampening his hair, giving it weight and pushing down atop his head. His beard was able to get away without having to deal it at least. Garret remained there, staring off in the direction he had been planning on travelling in to get out of the city. The Rogue remained still, listening to the child lose control over herself and beg to him. She had thrown herself down to the ground, screaming at the top of her lungs at him, begging him to take her with him. To teach her how to become strong. It was a request he understood. A young child like her, lost and alone, weakened by her affliction...to find someone like him must have been hope in her darkness.

Hope that Garret needed to shatter. Her speech complete there was a moment of silence between the two, interrupted by the man turning himself towards her slightly. His single eye locked itself onto her, the tired gaze in it never leaving as he pondered over what she had said. "Look at me." Garrets words were neither a request nor a beckon, it was more like an order directed down to a soldier. A command from something strong to one much weaker. The child would look at him, without even considering if it was her free will or not. The Rogue stared down at her, the gaze in his eye shifting to one of warning, as he began to open his inner self up to the child. "Look at me with more than your eyes. Look past what your vision shows you. Look at me...and look at the darkness around me."

If she strained her eyes, all the rest of her senses, and even began to use that minds eye of hers unconsciously, she would begin to see it. A darkness that loomed around the man, both apart of him completely and something entirely alien. A dark shroud that strangled him, enveloping him, spreading out around him. Looking in that darkness the child would feel it. She would feel that intense flame that burnt inside of the man. She would be threatened to be consumed by those fires. The Flame of Hate that burnt within him was still strong as ever. From the darkness the screams could be heard, the howls of beasts inhuman and born straight from a nightmare. And as she peered into that abyss she would find it looking back at her.

As one blazing eye sets its sights upon her.

Garret closed himself off quickly, frowning to himself for letting all of that out. But he needed to show her just what it was that he was. He wasn't a savior, a guardian, or a teacher. But Garret felt for her, and it was why he needed for her to see that. "I'm a disaster who will end the lives of those too weak to protect themselves. This isn't what you want, I am not the person that you believe myself to be." Garret explained, and perhaps in a surprise move, bent down onto one of his knees to make himself level with her. That single eye of his gazing into her own, the look of a man who could have possibly been a father shining in them behind the pain and saddness. "I am no eden. If you are too weak you will die. You will never know another nights rest. If you fail to keep up, you will be torn to pieces by the beasts that follow me. Your life will be thrusted into dangers far greater than you can imagine. And I cannot protect you from it." Garret explained, his voice remaining unchanged as he explained it to her. His mouth closed itself, the Rogue becomming silent as he looked at her, and awaited what she would say.

He wanted her to run away, to find her own strength and to not learn from him. He was not the sort of person to be teaching anyone else.

[Kento Waffles]

The young girl actually laughed, amused by Garret's statement. Though he had showed her his darkness, now too would she show him hers. He was much more powerful, and would have an easier time squinting through the rain and seeing the girl's horrible, black soul. Around her, her spiritual energy was like a terrifying miasma that bore a killing intent stronger than any Hollow's. Yet, she clearly had no desire to kill. No, this was her spirit's basic form. It was said in some parts of the world that one could be cursed in a previous life, and reincarnate with a curse of suffering later. Perhaps in a past life she had done terrible things. Perhaps this was just misfortune.

But, that ugly aura around her could not be dis-spelled, that much was certain. "I can't be killed by them," she whispered. "I would welcome the day they can kill me. I want to die, I really do. But... They'll die around me just by getting close enough to attack. Just like all other creatures." It was a fact of her life. As simple as breathing. Those that gathered around her simply died. Hollows died. Animals that touched her died. Even Garret was in danger around her. But, on the other hand, she also had the perfect compatibility with him as a traveling companion. As long as she was with him, Hollows would come for them and would die because of her aura. Meanwhile, he could keep her company.

It was perhaps an ideal arrangement, and it beckoned to him the idea of the first good night's sleep he would have had in many years. But this was misery. This truly was misery. A girl so young already wanted to die because of a curse that she could do nothing about. Like Garret, she was completely alone in the world. "If you aren't careful, you'll die," she told him. "Just like the monsters will. So, I beg you again... Please... You're the first person like me that I've ever come across... Please don't leave me all alone anymore... I can't take it..." Maybe this girl's life was even in Garret's hands. Might she kill herself otherwise? Was she even capable of killing herself?

Meanwhile, Douma was clothed and his weapons reinstated onto him, and he would be off with the two men that would later introduce themselves to him along the way. Shiratori Kawada. Sozen Mumei. Their origins weren't immediately revealed, but on the way to whatever Soul Reaper stronghold they were headed to, Shiratori did most of the talking. "So, Douma-chan! You're doing the liquid treatment too! I finished that not too long ago. What're you doing it for? What are you sharpening?" It seemed then that the treatment wasn't just pain for some. It was meant to sharpen something in people. In Douma, perhaps it was his lack of humanity. In Shiratori, who was quite chipper, it must be something else.

As they were arriving at the Shinigami base, the three of them, Douma would be likely to notice that the reiatsu contained within was strong. This was probably some sort of Kido Corps base of operations, and those inside seemed to focus on spiritual endeavors. More importantly, there were a lot of them. At least thirty. It probably wouldn't be difficult, however. If these guys, Shiratori and mini Sozen, were his new allies, then it really wouldn't be problematic whatsoever. These guys seemed strong. Very strong. So, with that in mind, Shiratori pointed at the complex ahead of them, a large warehouse-looking building which was probably more complex than that.

"Alright, Do-Chan! Show me what you're capable of and destroy that complex!"

[Kitai Yoru]

Kitai slowly dragged himself upwards to a sitting position. Exhaustion didn't even begin to describe what he was feeling at the moment. He felt like a tube of toothpaste that was run over by a steamroller and thrown an airplane. He palmed his face, and whipped a sheen of sweat off his face and rain water. He had to get up, he had to find that pink jester and rip out his teeth. He slammed his cannon into the concrete, and tried to climb to his feet, when something he never thought would happen. His cannon, his fullbring.... shattered. He fell forward, falling to the ground wet face first.

He looked to his left hand in distress. His fullbring had reverted to a simple modified spray cheese can. Then that shattered too. His eyes were wide in shock. How, how could this happen? His mind went blank, not even registering the words of that man. His weapon that's been with his for years. Gone. In an instant. Not even a 'final battle' type of climax for the destruction of it. He felt robbed, on top of feeling like his heart was ripped out and crushed in front of his face. He was thankful for the rain. It fit his mood to a tee.

A card landed on the soaked ground. He picked it up absentmindedly, still reeling in shock, that was slowly bubbling into rage. It told him something about a casino, getting stronger, and being friends. He finally snapped out of his stupor, and lunged at the thing who dared destroy his most precious item. A plasmablade slid into his sleeve-covered hand, and he swung the weapon at were he last heard its voice, ignoring the screaming pain in his limbs from the sudden movement. His blade passed through only the open air, as the thing was gone. He swung his weapon around wildly, yelling like a savage.

He returned his weapon to his sleeve. He went over towards the downed plane. He pulled his leg back, before letting loose a wild kick. He hit the roof of the plane, since it was leaning with the wing up on a building. The roof caved in, as the body of the plane collided with with building behind it. Kitai's chipped and damaged teeth were nearly grinding together in his rage. The metal of the plane screeched against the ground, right before the inevitable crash of glass and steel. He let out another yell, before his burst of anger started to wear off.

He slumped to the ground, all emotion fading from his face. He could hear the sirens in the distance. They would be here shortly. He turned towards the card that it had drop for him, words playing back in his mind. A grimas passed over his face, as he reluctantly grabbed it, before placing it in his pocket. Someone who held onto their pride after a tragedy died a pathetic death. So, like a sopping wet dog, he started running through the rain. Who knows who saw what from that? He needed to be gone, fast.

He ignored the protests his legs were making, and ran with a speed of 600, tearing down the streets faster than any human should be able. A cop car was headed directly for him. He glared at it, daring it to hit him. It swerved and crashed into one of the cars on the side of the road. Smart move. If it hadn't moved, his solution would have been much harsher. He pulled out the card from his pocket. It was the ace of spades. How original... There was an address written on it. He didn't trust that thing as far as he could throw him, but he'd at least give the place a once over. If it were a trap, he'd hopefully be able to see with his contacts. So, he kept running. When he finally stopped running, he'd be standing outside the casino.

[Tsubaki Shiba]

Kuruna's voice bothered Tsubaki immensely, and caused her to question how worth it this job opportunity was. His laugh, it aggravated her as if it was four times louder than it actually was, and she tried to stabilize her breathing in order to take control of the situation. She had at most a few more brief, brief minutes with this man before she was ready to murder the ever loving shit out of him, unless something drastically changed in the coming future. He was excited to have her on the team, but wasn't giving her the respect that she knew that she deserved.

However, the lab that he brought her too was wonderful, and she surveyed it appropriately. It could expand itself spatially, the energy was rich in spiritual particles making experimentation easy, it could mass produce gigais, or the equivalent, and was automated to a degree which would allow her total freedom and the ability to easily manipulate her work space without any additional assistance. This lab was tailored flawlessly to her needs, and that made her very happy, while simultaneously terrifying her that Callus knew her that well.

Apropos of that, Tsubaki spoke, quietly, asking Kuruna a question: "To your question, I'd like to ask you two of my own. Do you know of my history with Callus? And tell me, what do you know of Squad Five of Soul Society?" She didn't expect meaningful answers from each of them, but admitadly, she needed to ask them to set up her own monologue that she intended to give, as much as it would hurt her to do so. Kuruna was treating her far too flippantly for her to just accept it without question. She needed to set the score straight.

"Team Josai clearly as potential, but is this Josai's doing, or Callus'? Because, unless I misunderstood his speech back there, and what you told me of his goals, Callus is the white team player, and Team Josai is a handful of pawns, give or take a rook or two. You're essential to his game plan and strategy, of course, but that's the extent of it. Perhaps I am wrong. Maybe there is more collaboration, coordination, than I give you credit for. Maybe this relationship is a mutual, stable one. But now I am curious: What makes you any more special than a group of street urchins who Callus gifted power to?"

[Kento Waffles]

Kuruna's eyes sparkled with Tsubaki's question. It was evident that he was getting on her nerves, and it was evident that he could tell, too. It had been repeated more than once that everyone on Team Josai had a bad personality. Kuruna's was likely meant to irritate, and he probably took pleasure in bringing out the worst in people that were around him. Still, if he was on Team Josai, he was strong. Whether gifted by Callus or simply naturally powerful, he was strong now, which was what mattered. Anyone that grew too annoyed at him wouldn't be able to subdue him easily. Furthermore, there seemed to be multiple of Kuruna, meaning either he had twins, or something else entirely.

Kuruna sneered at Tsubaki's question, which seemed intentionally blunt and offensive, drawing his amusement out at having driven her to such ire. "Until Callus, I was in service to a group called the Blood Drinking Gang. I was their second in command. One of our guys was some wandering mercenary that was undefeated in underground fighting in Rodini, before the war." The island of Rodini, a spiritual island entirely, had been wiped out during the Tridential Conflict, a now well known war among spiritual beings. "Our team's leader, before he ever met Callus, was pursued by one of Seireitei's Captains and killed that Captain." So, they all had some talent, to a degree.

"Callus did give us all boosts of power, but to say we're street urchins would be wrong, too. We were already all strong when he recruited us! The reason we're with him now is because of how interesting it is." Callus appeared to have taken to finding those spirits who were most malicious and most bored in the world, and giving them something to do. That, at least, had been the first step in establishing Team Josai. They would clearly be the easiest to recruit. Still, a mystery now. One of them was responsible for killing a Captain! By no means was that a small feat. But who exactly was this leader of the team, that he could do that before Callus's upgrades?

Meanwhile, as Kitai entered into the casino, he'd find that it was lively with spiritual activity. There were a few non spirituals, bust the majority of these customers were spiritual beings. This wasn't uncommon. Every major city somewhere had a few spots where predominantly spirituals could gather and socialize. There were many tables for gambling, which was taking place. Many slot machines around, too. So many different games, it practically looked like a miniature amusement park. People were lost in their drinks, gambling, conversations, food, or a mix of them all. But where was he supposed to take the card to? There were multiple bars with multiple bartenders after all.

But that was when, walking by someone talking to a bartender, he'd overhear something. "Expedition to Mona..." And then another snippet of another conversation. "Here's his card..." Etc etc. This wasn't just some casino. It was a place where people traded information. In other words, if Kitai was particularly savvy on spiritual places of gathering, he'd realize that this was one of Lord Callus's casinos, where people would come to trade information, recruit for certain missions, or hire assassins or mercenaries. This was a hub for not just spirituals, but those associated with the terrifying criminal underworld of the spiritual beings.

It was probably in his best interest to go to the bartender and show him the card. ...But there was also an eye on him from somewhere. Somewhere in the room, someone was watching him. It wasn't something he could be oblivious to. It was intentionally noticeable and obvious, and no matter where he went, this feeling that a huge eye was observing him wouldn't go away. He could obviously ignore it and still go to the bartender. Or, he could go to the corner table where this gaze emanated from, and a gentleman with a suit and a hat sat drinking a fine brandy. Whichever would be most prudent. Or, maybe he could just go to both. Either way, this was a different world.