Now You Feel Like Number None [Bleach Arrancar Quest]

[SolipsistSerpent]

"Ooooh, Tatsuki, we should go call Chizuru! We could..."

"NO, Orihime. NO."

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Weirdly enough, this actually does feel a lot like canon Orihime.

Well Loly and Menoly are out of the job with Aizen dead, and Loly has a confirmed Reaper fetish.....Clearly Ichigo gets saddled with them as his fraccion's. The fact they look something like his little sisters may help sell him on the idea.

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Uh....

Once its explained to him that no Fraccion doesn't mean harem.

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Oh good, I was going to say that sounded like terrible logic.

 

[Phigment]

Weirdly enough, this actually does feel a lot like canon Orihime.

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In the cartoon at least, there's a scene where Orihime tries to turn the show into a harem anime.

She's disappointed that Rukia has no romantic interest in Ichigo, because if both of them were interested in Ichigo, Tatsuki might get interested, too, and if three girls were interested in Ichigo, Chizuru would sign up, and then inertia would mean ALL the girls would fixate on him, and they'd always have something to talk about.

This is canon Orihime logic. Watch episode 15 if you doubt me.

 

[Mellithae]

In the cartoon at least, there's a scene where Orihime tries to turn the show into a harem anime.

She's disappointed that Rukia has no romantic interest in Ichigo, because if both of them were interested in Ichigo, Tatsuki might get interested, too, and if three girls were interested in Ichigo, Chizuru would sign up, and then inertia would mean ALL the girls would fixate on him, and they'd always have something to talk about.

This is canon Orihime logic. Watch episode 15 if you doubt me.

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I'm not sure whether this means Orihime can see the fourth wall, or if she's just silly.

 

[Wind-Up Citrus]

I'm not sure whether this means Orihime can see the fourth wall, or if she's just silly.

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MexicanGirlWhyNotBoth.png

That's why she says "I reject", it's to help her reject the possibility that her entire reality is nothing more than a cheaply made japanese cartoon aimed at teens.

 

[SolipsistSerpent]

In the cartoon at least, there's a scene where Orihime tries to turn the show into a harem anime. She's disappointed that Rukia has no romantic interest in Ichigo, because if both of them were interested in Ichigo, Tatsuki might get interested, too, and if three girls were interested in Ichigo, Chizuru would sign up, and then inertia would mean ALL the girls would fixate on him, and they'd always have something to talk about.This is canon Orihime logic. Watch episode 15 if you doubt me.

Click to shrink...

Oh no, I remember it now that you mention it. No wonder it felt canon.

That said, I feel like Orihime has somehow missed some important facts about Chizuru.

 

[random_npc]

Oh god, it finally happened. someone wrote a subquest for a subquest. What has science done!

 

[Zefferen]

I'm not sure that wanting to attack/romance her love interest with a harem of women so they can "win" says the greatest things about Orihime's self esteem, which we know she has issues with. Take away the silly for a moment and she seems to be saying that she doesn't think she's capable of winning Ichigo's heart on her own, so she needs help in the most direct way imaginable. Either Ichigo is so unreachable in her mind that it takes several women to match him or her value is so low she needs others to make up for it.

Her mindset is not the healthiest in the world.

 

[Omicron]

Well folks, looks like Plan: The Scary Door wins.

Okay, let's... Let's get to this.

Well. I may or may not be allowed to make posts that are meant to give their xp to high speed regeneration again. Either way... I'm going to actually have to spoiler this one, omake or not, and tag it for things in case anyone wouldn't want to read it. So!

-The below omake contains mentions of bloody stuff, and though I don't think I went into too much detail, it includes some level of description for Nemo practicing her medicine skill on herself. Also Luppi makes a couple of crude jokes, but I doubt anyone would be upset about that. Those with extra weak stomachs... how did you manage to read the fight with Tatsuki and co against Nemo? But yeah, if you really don't like reading things like that, it's in a spoiler for your convenience.

If @Omicron confirms that this isn't bad enough to need the spoiler, then I'll take it out of that. I'm just a bit paranoid about such things, and want to make sure. Feel free to put this in the next omake roundup if it gets any xp - I'm not expecting any more xp added to this batch.

Oh, and yes, this is set for after the park fight. If Luppi somehow gets himself killed or stops being Luppi, then it'll automatically be AU, of course. I just couldn't quite get the idea out of my head once it wormed its way in, so I had to write it. ^^

-Caught Red Handed-

Spoiler: Omake

Care had to be used when working through a Hierro. Too little pressure, too little sharpening of your Reiatsu, and you wouldn't pierce it at all. Too much pressure with enough Reiatsu, and you risked the moment of the iron skin's failure leading to a puncture to the more vulnerable flesh below. Too little Reiatsu with too much pressure would break whatever tool you might be using. Too much Reiatsu, and the wound wouldn't heal as quickly on its own. Too little pressure, and though you'd pierce the Hierro, you wouldn't push deep enough into the body, possibly only cutting the first layers of skin without touching the connective tissue below.

You've learned such things already though, and you've gotten good at quickly calculating just the right pressure and Reiatsu combination for a still and helpful patient. The patient is generally yourself, of course, but after having sewn up Ilforte in the world of the living, you feel confident enough to be focusing more on a new part of learning. Namely, cataloging your internal injuries and seeing just how they're damaged. Figuring out what they might need to be healed properly, too. You're not completely sure if you could actually perform the surgery on yourself, but when Esmeralda did it for your lungs, it didn't seem very hard. Sure, you might have to carefully align and sew in the new fleshy material that would let your body heal itself, but the real problem if you want to go that route is that you still don't know quite what she was using. Nor how to get it, other than possibly asking Szayel.

It's something you might should do, regardless. You've already befriended him in a way, bonding with him over the similarities of your own respective fields, and... you'll admit, you've found yourself rather enjoying it more as he has taken your suggestions in stride without reprimanding you for being soft. It's not that he's actually some horrible monster that delights in the pain of people tortured by his work, you've come to realize. He just... doesn't quite care about it in the heat of the moment, is all. Or afterwards, as long as the results justify it. He's a genius at what he does to be sure, but he didn't learn with the idea that he'd be using much of his research on people who he'd care about how they felt about it. The only times he's ever had to keep things like pain or potential side effects that don't affect combat ability in mind has been for improvements to himself.

He took it surprisingly well when you commented that he'd want to consider comfort and long term effects on allies such as his fellow Espada, if he wanted them to allow him to work on them, for instance. And... though you know he doesn't really find it easy to emphasize with anyone he doesn't care about, even Cirucci has trouble with that. And, much like her, he's starting to try, just a little. To make a better impression on you. It's a rather flattering thought, even if you don't think about him in a similar way to your lover - nor he you. Or maybe he's just trying since you told him that it would make him seem more approachable if he seems to care more about the people he works on. Extra subjects to work on will never be something he'll turn his nose up at.

By this point, you doubt that he'll take any offense to you asking if he could cook you up something to help with your injuries, and especially if you phrase it as wanting to do it yourself. He'll respect the idea that you want to be the one to make any modifications to your own body, and to fix what others have damaged with your own two hands.

The knife is set to the side, blood clinging only slightly to the edge from how quick and clean the cut is. Your fingers probe along the sides as you consciously suppress your regeneration, before taking a slow, deep breath. You brace yourself, and peel the skin away, exposing your insides to the open air. The pain is there, harsh and burning, but it's less than you might have expected if you didn't know what you were doing so well. You avoided cutting directly through any major nerves, and you're not tearing anything, but folding along an existing cut while moderating your healing more to hold things at the ends of it and prevent the more painful tears. There's even less blood than there could be, since you've pinched your blood vessels shut temporarily all along the edges of the cut, leaving only a small oozing from the skin while the organs are untouched by damage.

Untouched, that is, by you. You lower your head, looking down into the open cavity first at your guts, the organs lower in your body. A mirror you took from the human world sits nearby at an angle, and with a click of a light, you look through it up at your lungs and heart, under your ribs. Scattered throughout, you can see the damage you've taken. Blood and less savory fluids leak from a number of scarred holes, bruises showing how badly Tatsuki's blows to your gut exacerbated the old wounds that you already had.

You breath slowly through your nose, pushing down a faint feeling of nausea as you gently start probing things, exploring what hurts how, and what shifts which way, and what still bleeds or oozes things you'd rather not have out of them. Some cloth nearby sits ready to soak things and clean things, with some thread for any possible repairs that you think you can manage with just that, though you don't expect this session to do much for your crippling pain and weakness that you've learned to live with.

You can almost chuckle at your situation though; not too long ago, the very idea of doing something like this would have had you shivering in a corner, huddling in the dark, pale as a sheet. It's amazing how quickly you've learned to stomach the sight and smell of your own blood, learning surgery on yourself like this.

Naturally, that's when you hear a pair of voices coming closer.

---

"So, this one is about a group of three hollows, right?" Luppi starts off for his turn. His arms move constantly as he speaks, it seems, but if anything, Ren's own energy matches his own when it comes to stories. They've been trading them whenever they had time, seeing who can come up with the more interesting ones, the odder ones, and the ones more likely to make the other react to them.

"Three hollows, this time? Not two that you'll end up setting against each other, or one you'll trick into betraying you and falling into some trap?" Ren's reply comes easily, a jab at just how many such stories Luppi seems to have. "Alright, I'll bite - what makes these three interesting enough for you to remember them, then?"

Luppi nods, and they walk down slowly towards the stairs into the main hall. "So, one of them was a scorpion, one of them was a frog... but the last one was a dog. The frog and Scorpion, well it's literally a cautionary tale waiting to happen on its own, see. But somehow, they've all apparently been together for a century, and none of them stabbing each other in the back. The frog is huge, and the other two can both comfortably stay on his back as they move through the water. But their journey's been a bit farther than expected, and the frog is really wanting to find a spot to rest somehow. I happen to run into them there, and I offer my services.

"I'll use my tentacles to hold them all up, pulling up rocks from the bottom to form a miniature island for the frog to sleep on, but only if they'll all answer questions from me, and tell me some of their story. They agree, if only since two of them will drown if they can't find a place for the frog to rest, and I get to work. I make sure that it's large enough of a surface for them to get off from the frog's back, and to have a bit of privacy to speak with me some one on one, each."

Ren is listening well enough, for now, but he hasn't really had his interest caught in full yet, it's clear. Luppi simply smiles though. "Now, I start off by asking them what they're all the way out there so far from land from, of course. It turns out, they're looking for an old island that sunk due to a fight between powerful hollows long ago unleashing their full powered ceros against each other underwater, crumbling the supports of the island and putting holes up in it until it sank. The island is said to have been home to the work of a blacksmith hollow who stole secrets from the stars to forge light itself into metal, and used it to create an armory."

And now, now he has the man's full attention. Eyes lock onto Luppi, with the hole in the man's head almost looking like a third one with every bit as intense a gaze. "You don't say. Did they find it? Were they right? Maybe you could make me a map, if they never got to reach the sunken island in the first place..."

Luppi shakes his head, a finger coming up to press against the archeologist's lips. "Shush shush, there - you know the rules. Listen to the entire story before I give you things like that. Now, where was I?" They reach the bottom of the stairs, and on a whim, Luppi turns the two of them towards Nemo's little workshop where she's hidden herself away again. He thinks she would actually enjoy this tale some, all things considered, with how it's only half of a tragedy.

However, as he swings open the door to Nemo's workshop, he freezes, cutting himself off mid word. There, inside, is a morbid and macabre scene. Threads of shining silvery light and metal needles from her tools pin flesh apart, red dripping slowly into a bottle below the body. Organs pulse with the flow of blood through veins that stand out of them, making the holes, scars, and scabbed flesh stand out all the worse. And of course, Nemo herself has her hands stained red with blood as they hold some of those organs, her gloves off to the side for this as she stares at him and Ren, frozen at being caught in such a compromising position.

The fact that it's her own organs and her own body cut open only make it more bizarre of a sight, though he admittedly has trouble imagining her with her hands buried in the guts of someone else. Unless she's trying to do something to help them, he supposes. Still, not what he was expecting to find. Normally, when she locks herself into her workshop, it's to work on her dresses and sashes and hats and jewelry type things. At least, as far as he knew, anyway.

Ren sputters as time reminds them all that they're just standing there, another plunk of blood dripping into the container catching it below, and he flees. White as a sheet and green at the gills, he runs back upstairs without even waiting to hear the rest of Luppi's story. Rude!

Finally, he breaks the silence as he smirks at Nemo. "Well, well, well. It seems I've caught you red handed here!"

Eyes close softly as a soft groan, music to his ears, is yielded in reply. "Come now though, I didn't think that my company was so bad that people actually meant it when they told me they'd rather cut themselves open and stab at their organs than spend time with me! I'm hurt."

His grin gives lie to his statement, even as Nemo pulls her hands away, undoing pins from her flesh to allow it to pull itself quickly and rapidly back together, sealing itself without a seam in an instant. Still, he's not going to let this go until he's milked it for all he can. "I'm honestly surprised you didn't have Cirucci in here with you though. I'd have thought you'd prefer having her hands inside you rather than just touching yourself and fingering things on your own~"

A red, dripping hand pointed sternly to the door, the intent clear. Out. Now.

"But I have hours of material still for this! Do you know how seldom I get to make jokes about people really digging down deep in themselves to show that they have guts?"

It makes his heart sing, just a bit, to see her bury her head in her hands, before even finishing wiping them clean. He's still got it.

Click to shrink...

and we start things of with a grisly look at Nemo's self-surgery that I might actually have to make canon now

Although, Nemo may be a little... Hopeful regarding Szayel. The man may be sensitive to her arguments, but he also has ideas and opinions of his own that might not align perfectly with her hopes of using him to get healed.

Oh, well. This is good. 50xp and it's canon.

Alright, well, as I had suggested I might do: Time for a Wonderwiess omake in the park. It's something fairly small, by my standards, but I just wanted to write it and see how it came out. ^.^

-Butterflies in flight-

You are called Wonderwiess. You don't know if it means much, but you've been told that it's your name, even if something about it doesn't quite sound right. It doesn't resonate with you. But it's your name, and so you answer to it.

You aren't very good at listening for very long. Thinking is... hard. Like swimming through tar and pushing through clouds of cotton using spoons as paddles in a canoe that's upside down and full of holes that suck the fire and heat from your mind down into them, down into the tar. Fire, heat, energy. Thought. It all goes down there, and it just makes it. So. Hard. To...

Your name is Wonderwiess, and you've been sent out to the living world. The others had said a lot of things, and you tried to listen, but none of it really stuck. You looked away, and suddenly everyone was leaving, and you were too, walking away from yourself with the rest, before you quickly tried to catch up with your own body.

But while you weren't paying much attention to the others, there was one that you couldn't help but look at. She was small, fragile looking. She made you suddenly think of something at the tip of your tongue. She was... familiar. Even now, inside your own mind, you're humming a tune and trying to figure out how you know it, when you don't even know yourself.

She's gone now, though. She didn't stay with you, because moths have to fly up in the sky, and you won't stop a moth from flying with its bird to be happy. But, you found a butterfly.

It's a very nice butterfly. Yellow and orange that dances through the rain, fluttering about while you stare with wide eyes and move to follow it constantly. The rain makes it struggle to fly though, which you think is wrong. The storm supports flying butterflies... or was it something else? But the image of a fluttering butterfly in the rain makes you smile, makes you happy, because you know that it's happy if it's flying in the rain. So you carefully catch the rain drops before they hit the butterfly's wings, letting it dance and fly through the air to its heart's content.

The music in your head follows the dance of its wings, but also the movements of the pretty man's fingers, swaying with his energy and your own. It seems right, that he conducts the music in your mind, and you answer it when the opera calls for you to step on stage for a moment, even though the stage wasn't for you, will never be for you again.

What were you thinking about?

The butterfly calls you back to it, and you softly dry its wings with your spiritual energy, your hands blocking rain drops again, fast enough and gentle enough to make sure that it can fly undisturbed.

You don't know why, but seeing the butterfly flying in the rain makes you smile wider, makes you happy. Makes the music in your mind flow much more smoothly. Noises from the play behind you flow over and around you, and you watch it as well, but the butterfly's dance holds your attention best, for some reason. It makes you think that it must be happy, because butterflies only fly when they're happy. Or was it that the rain makes them fly? Or does rain make them happy?

The play is moving on towards a tragic end, a finish befitting the story teller. But then new people arrive. Actors who aren't part of it, but they blend into it, and now there's a new play. You pay only enough mind to watch the play, because you're not part of the play, you just watch.

The crushing pressure of spiritual weight makes the butterfly struggle. It flutters, unable to keep aloft, and is forced down to hide in the grass, away from its storm. The newcomers make butterflies land, and unable to be happy.

You're suddenly quite sad. You're suddenly mad.

The conductor draws you up, the music swells to introduce you. The play says that you can be a part of it, and you can help to bring back the music. But more than that, you'll do it so that the crushing pressure will leave the moth alone. Moths are meant to fly up in the sky, happy with their birds in the rain. And while your moth already left, isn't here to be sad, a butterfly is nice, too. You don't mind fighting to protect a butterfly's happiness.

You jump, you charge, and the battle is joined. Your mind recedes for the fury of combat, instincts ingrained in your body past your mind's reach taking over, and for a time, your mind is just a bit clearer. And you smile as your first hit strikes the man who made the butterfly cry.

Click to shrink...

D'aw. Not canon, though. 25xp.

-Introspection from on high-

The top of Las Noches feels a little different from the last time you were up on it. It's hard to believe how much has happened in so little a period of time, but then, that's a good part of how life in general has been like since Lord Aizen returned with the Hogyoku. Still, the last time you were up this high, looking down from these walls, you had been able to jump up and run like the wind against the sides of them. You had thought how wonderful it was to have the sensation of almost flying again. You exhilarated in how far you had come, and how much you had grown.

It wasn't more than a few hours later that you fought Ruddborne.

It's funny, how things work. This time, you actually did fly to get up here, but you couldn't manage the same feat from before if you tried. Not with the injuries you took in that fight afterwards. You wonder, sometimes, if it was really worth it. If you couldn't have fought by Luppi's side after all, having him cover you just enough that you wouldn't end up so crippled. You could have still taken the lead, told him he didn't need to do more than throw some balas if he didn't want to show off his power, and that you'd take care of it other than that if he could keep some of the numbers off of you. But then... would you have ended up such an unfathomable enigma in his mind? Would he have been curious enough about you to become your friend?

...Well, as much a friend as Luppi is capable of being, at least. Even if he's trying, he's often best in small quantities. You could certainly do without his sense of humor, or his horrible timing. You swear that it's intentional how often he manages to walk in at the worst possible moment. The fact that he denies it just makes it more likely, really.

Still, your mind goes back to your injury, your time finding him and Gin up here, and how you arrived this time. Mostly because you can't get down.

The problem with being suddenly introspective about your nature, your soul, and everything tied into your resurreccion? It's very hard to be introspective and happy at the same time, when the introspection is all about how broken you are deep down. How vicious you are if you release yourself from your own restraints, even though it goes against everything about who you are as a person, now. You evolved. You became a better person. You learned to love and be loved, found courage and honor, compassion even for your enemies. But the shadows inside of you don't care still.

Tesla's words come back to you, haunting you. What did you seal away in your sword, Elcorbuzier?

You shiver. You aren't sure. You can guess, you can fling wild ideas. Some of them are even probably at least partially right. But answering in full, knowing completely? It requires facing it. Looking it in the eye. Understanding it.

...Admitting it.

Didn't you already overcome whatever is inside of you, when you became queen of your own self? When you wove all of the countless, disparate souls together to use the Gran Rey Cero, wasn't that mastery over yourself enough to force your released self to grow and evolve to match who you've made yourself? What else is there for you to do, after that?

You know what you'll have to do. There will be a reckoning. You'll have to look back, remember, and feel. You'll have to accept it back into you.

You stood up for what was right, even if it would mean your own death already. With Tousen. With Tessai. So why is this so much harder?

It's because you're not afraid that you'll just die. You're afraid that it will change you, change who you are at the core, and that you won't have any say over who you become.

"Oh? What are you doing up here?"

You start at the voice, your perception having sunk closer and closer to your skin, more inside of yourself until the dancing shadows had replaced the world around you. Wide eyed, you scramble back from the edge of the wall, twisting on your feet as you quickly pull yourself back under control; back into the calm mask as you look up at the blind Shinigami. Tousen. Think of the devil - but does that apply to Shinigami? Shouldn't it be Hollows instead?

Even your own internal commentary is turning depressive. You sigh, admitting that you've had a lot on your mind since coming back from the mission. As much as it helped to throw yourself into Cirucci's arms for a bit, letting yourself feel safe with her... you needed to think, and didn't want to do so around her.

She can protect you from the outside world, but not from what's inside yourself, after all.

There's a slight hesitation in his stance, Tousen with all of his power looking uncertain, even if it's only the faintest of cracks in his mask. You only even see it from having seen his mask shatter completely, before. "Sometimes... an outside perspective can help with a problem," he finally states. "Especially one close to the heart."

You snap your face up at him, staring at him for a moment. Is he... asking if you want to talk about it? He's silent as you consider it, weighing it in your mind with the potential benefit with the simple desire to hide it away, not show it to anyone else. But... if anyone here in Las Noches can understand the full extent of why you fear the you that your resurreccion creates, might it not be Tousen?

You walk back over to the ledge, sitting and letting your legs hang off the side, before patting the stone next to you. With a soft rustling of fabric, the blind face of Justice sits beside you.

You take a deep breath, trying to decide how damning of yourself you're willing to be. But then, when you admitted to your crimes before, you told him everything already in how you wouldn't want to kill even their enemies if you could avoid it. He has a frame of reference both outside of that of other Arrancar, and for you in particular. You tell him everything.

You refused to use your Resurreccion on the mission, not because you were confident without it, but because you've grown to fear it. To fear yourself. When you use it, you lose who you are to the shadows of who you were, in a way that most other Arrancar simply don't. You didn't want to kill the children fighting you, and so you wouldn't release near them while they were defenseless, because your released self wouldn't have hesitated to kill or mortally wound them if it would give her the advantage against your opponent. You didn't use it, even once you had joined up with Ilforte, because you didn't want to kill Tessai, even as he was seeking your death. You didn't want to deprive a young girl of someone who cared about her so much, and who blamed you for her pain after you had hurt her for a second time. And that time, you'd have been able to kill him, rather than just use his distraction with saving the children from bleeding out to escape. It would have just cost you spending the lives of your allies like coins.

You were already prepared to risk your life if it meant keeping Ilforte and Tesla alive there, and you desperately didn't want to kill Tessai, even if you somehow could have. Polilla would have sacrificed the two of them to kill the wizard who wanted to destroy her without a second thought. It would only be after your resurreccion faded that you'd feel the guilt and self loathing for what you'd have done.

Yet, with the war picking up, and you now as one of the Fraccions fighting in it at the front lines, you may very well need the power of your resurreccion to survive. More, you may need it to save the lives of your friends, your comrades, or even your lover. This time, you scraped by without betraying yourself, but given a situation just slightly worse, not using your full power would be betraying yourself just as much as using it might be. What will you do then, when that situation finally comes about?

The worst part of it may be that you didn't even quite understand why your resurreccion is like that, didn't think to question it, until Tesla forced you to. You tilt your head back up towards the false sun of Las Noches, and allow those soul-scarring words to come back to you. What did you seal away in your sword, Elcorbuzier? What piece of your soul did you break along with your mask, that you would never have to address it, never have to grow past it?
You go quiet, lowering your head. Tousen is nothing if not a good listener when he wants to be, able to stay quiet and listen to the entire rant, his sightless eyes focused on you alongside the sharp senses of his spirit. He gives you time to recover yourself, to calm yourself a bit, and for him to consider everything you've told him.

"Did you know, that for us Shinigami, our Zanpakuto are their own people? They are a piece of our soul, part of who we are, yet in so many ways, they are their own selves. Even when a Shinigami risks death, their Zanpakuto won't suddenly grant them their Bankai if they aren't worthy of it in the sword's eyes - otherwise every unseated officer who fought a hollow a bit too strong for them would have Bankai. You have to understand yourself, come to terms with yourself, and befriend yourself. You have to gain the respect of your Zanpakuto, of this part of yourself that often seems nothing like you at first glance.

"It's a deeply private thing, something different for every Shinigami. And it's hard enough to reach that point that in the entirety of Soul Society, it's unlikely to reach twenty people currently active who have done so. Power alone isn't enough for it, as the captain of the eleventh doesn't even know his sword's name to release it into Shikai - and he is stronger in raw power than most any of the captains aside from the head captain himself, now that Aizen has left."

You slump slightly. Does that mean he thinks you're unlikely to ever manage to get past this, and to be able to use your resurreccion without worrying that you'll hurt the very people you want to protect?

"No," he replies simply. "You misunderstand me. It is a long, arduous journey. But the reason so many fail to complete it is that they refuse to even try. It is hard. Only special people can manage it. They can't do it. How could they ever be worthy of a Bankai, when no one but Captains have it? It's thoughts like those that sabotage them, making them fail to even attempt. You need to steel yourself, be ready to accept things about yourself that you might not like, and be willing to do whatever you must. I do not think that Arrancar are quite the same, of course. But I suspect that there are similarities enough for this to give you some insights."

That... well, when he puts it that way... maybe. You know that you don't want to face yourself like this. But you have to. And telling yourself you can't is just a way to avoid the problem and run away - yet you can't run away from yourself forever. You stand, pulling back from the ledge again, and feel the determination crystallize. Even if it's hard, even if it's frightening... it's not just for yourself that you have to do this.

"No," he corrects again, smiling gently as he stands as well, looking down at you and slightly to your side. "It's exactly for yourself that you want to do this - because you are not willing to fail someone else due to this. I will not tell you to not to be afraid, as it would be a disservice for you; rather, acknowledge your fear. Accept it and face it, and then keep that memory dear to you. But, even if you get past this lack of control, even if you reach your 'Bankai' of sorts... there's always the chance that you may be able to learn more about yourself from something unexpected, if you can keep an open mind. Sometimes, it might surprise you just how much you still have to learn, especially when you think you are done."

You bow, thanking him for his insights.

He simply shakes his head. "I am merely returning the favor."

Click to shrink...

You know, actually, Nemo could get down. She can survive falls at terminal velocity just fine

I like it but it's really going from 0 to 100 in no time flat on both Tousen interactions and dealing with Nemo's Resurreccion, so I'm goooonna say not canon. 25xp.

Musings of the Old King
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It was often, around this time of winter, that Barragan mused of what was, what is and what will be. He remembered old oaths broken and events the world had long since forgotten. But what he remembered most was a great understanding visited upon him by the Stranger. And Stranger it was indeed, for no being of such power could exist in all of creation as he knew it.

But they appeared to be kindred spirits, in more ways than one, and thus the Old King, then not yet even robed, finally had an equal to converse with. He learned much in their short talk and since then, he bent all his doing, all his will, unto fulfilling his newly given purpose.

He approached the Tailor, to have his power bound. The grand design, however, must remain a secret, and so he became King, a masquerade to not give away the true reason for his desire to be able to walk among mortals.

He amassed armies. All thought it was to fuel his megalomania, to strengthen his image of a king. Few knew that some hollows of this army disappeared after swearing utmost secrecy to him, deep, deep underneath the foundations of what would one day be castle of Las Noches.

He put up a token resistance once the Usurper known as Aizen came, to play along the charade of King, but in the end, it would not affect the purpose he came to acknowledge as the one truly important thing. And so he bent the knee. Aizen did not discover the caverns beneath the castle, dug deep foundations for his fortress, but not deep enough to reveal the carefully hidden. And so his followers worked and toiled on items of tremendous importance undisturbed. Sometimes, those items were visited upon the deserving.

And so the Winter war weighted heavily in his thoughts. He could not maintain the play that was Barragan the Espada and fulfil his purpose at the same time. He would have to brush aside the opposing Shinigami if it came to that, he supposed. They will rue that day if they oppose him. It is, after all, no day when fights should be had. Stranger said it best in their brief conversation.

Cʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ɪs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ Jᴏʟʟʏ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍɪsᴛʟᴇᴛᴏᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏʟʟʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ -ᴏʟʟʏ.

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Barragan has time magic and is Skeleton. Fill in the rest. Also, i cannot into writing. Also, i know its short. I wrote it because i just couldn´t get the similarity out of my head.

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Oh my god why would you do this.

no xp

Now You Feel Like Being Reviewed By Luppi Antenor

Part the First

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your XP allocations. I won't be giving them back, but charity is good for the soul - or so they say. Certainly, Nemo seems to get something from it.

Personally, I feel it feeds her masochistic nature. That girl is getting something out of the way she takes on the pain of others and willingly gives her time and effort to helping insignificant beings, and personally my opinion is that it's some kind of sick sexual thrill.

I mean, she makes ink and dyes from her own blood, and I'm almost certain she uses her own skin for leather. I hate to think about what might be in her and the Thunderwitch's private drawers, but I'm just saying, you probably want to wash your hands if you ever find a red leather catsuit.

Not that I'm one to judge, but Nemo can be awfully holier-than-thou for a soul-eating monster, and it does her good to get punctured once in a while. It lets out that annoying self-righteousness she's prone to. "Oh, Luppi, don't break that person's arm. Oh Luppi, you should fall in love with the first person you meet and settle down into a nauseatingly domestic routine only periodically interrupted by large amounts of violence. Oh Luppi, get your feet off the furniture."

I mean, she doesn't actually say that, but she mimes it very intently. She does go on.

Now, now, the person whose user account I'm borrowing is quite... tied up. Yes, I think that's a very good term. Ren was very helpful in finding me a way to bypass the barrier between the worlds know as La Cuarta Pared. Oh, certainly, he went on and on about how it's dangerous to try to draw energy from the potentiality of universes which never existed, but screw that. Nemo and Cirucci have totally been doing that. I'm sure that's how they got so powerful so fast

I want some of that sugar.

Oh, and by the way?

Those of you who didn't vote to follow the charming, witty, and absolutely brilliant me in the next update? I know who you are now. I'm not impressed. Not. Impressed.

I might have forgiven you if you'd been voting for Grimmjow instead, because let's be honest here, getting inside his head means getting inside his body, and I'm all in favour of that. Plus, I'd have appreciated being able to read what he thinks about things. I think he's not dumb, but he is a lazy thinker. I'm looking forwards to giving his mind - among other things - one hell of a work out.

(I bet the first thing he does when he gets back to his quarters after a hunt is strip down and look at himself in the mirror. It's what I'd do if I was him. Meow.)

But no, you instead vote for some shabbily dressed man with a silly hat who wears sandals even though winter is coming? Disgusting. Just disgusting. You horrify me, with how you passed over both me and Grimmjow. If you can resist me, how can you resist those abs?

So, let's get started with reading this nonsense.

---

Who Is Nemo Elcorbuzier?

Honestly, I'm pretty sure that the reason everyone calls her Nemo is that her name is hard to spell and pronounce. Mine is much better.

Now, let's move on. Some kind of picture of Hueco Mundo. Fair enough.

Then follows a frankly turgid and dull description of the Hollow condition. Yes, yes, we all know it. We're all soul-eating monsters here.

Fortunately, it's redeemed by one hell of a punchline. "But ambition remains"? Classic. You're talking about Nemo there? Ha! I'll have to remember that. It's brilliant.

Then follows some self-pitying things about how she's an old generation Arrancar and how she's so weak and useless, blah blah blah. Then there's a vote for what she looks like. Yeah, yeah.

There's a very basic and over-simplified description of the basic feats we can do. Again, it's the kind of thing you'd use to explain to children. Not very bright ones, either. I mean, if we had children. Which we... probably can't? Mind you, we're half-shinigami and those things can, so who even knows? This whole business is super inconsistent and not very sensible.

Then there's a chance to say what Nemo is best at. Which doesn't mention her real speciality, which is being annoyingly placid and hard to read. I kind of wonder what it's like having a mask that big. It has to be a pain, but she makes it work for her.

With her nose under her mask, how does she smell?

(The answer is "It depends when you find her, because she'll pretty herself up for the Thunderwitch, but if she's been in her workshop, there's all kinds of pungent exotic things there. Also, of her own blood. She's really bad at not injuring herself.")

Now we have a little section it's asked what kind of Resurreccion she has. I'd actually like to see it myself. She's really shy about that. I don't know why. Resurreccion feels great, especially if you're me. I'm very handy to be around.

And then finally, there's an optional vote here for strange properties she has. Well, we all know which one she took, little miss "I get off from being hurt". Although I note the Gillian origin thing, and honestly that explains a lot. If she nearly was a Gillian, that would explain why she likes pretending to be one. She's really very deceitful and treacherous for someone who pretends to be all about "love" and "not betraying everyone" and rubbish like that.

---

System (Such As It Is)

Well, this is a lot of nonsense I don't care about. It's probably for the best that it's narrative, though. I know how to make the numbers dance.

Hey, is that why it's called Number None? Because you don't use numbers for stuff? Makes sense. Nemo is Number Forty Eight, not Zero.

I wonder if there's a Number Zero. It'd make sense for that kind of thing. I'd approve of that kind of trick of pulling out the prototype, zeroth Arrancar and them turning out to be a vasto lorde.

---

Character Sheet

More about Nemo. Yeesh, you all like going on about her, don't you. Also, that description is totally out of date. That scarf vanished just before that big showdown with Mr "Steal My Shtick Of Having Lots Of Arms In Res". And she doesn't look all that malnourished. She's gotten fat obviously. She has to be fat to call me flabby. Me!

The disgustingly domestic basically-married life must be agreeing with her.

So, we look at her skills here, and notably see that she's got CRIPPLED in big red letters tagged to her Combat Arts and her Sonido. Again, more evidence for the masochism theory. If I was in extended pain, I'd have found a cure for it. She hasn't even though she's been hanging with that lovely piece of meat, the doctor with the very long tongue, so it's pretty clear she's getting her kicks off those crippling internal injuries.

Otherwise, her Primary Combat Skills on her so-called 'character sheet' is a reminder that even though her physical stats are flabby, she's far more powerful than any natural Arrancar who was an unremarkable adjuchas should be. So, basically, don't trust her whining about how she's so weak. It's just her entirely admirable (except when used against me) talent for deception at work.

We then look at her Advanced Skills and note that clearly that's where the XP that should have been going on "being able to throw a punch" have been going. She's busy dumping XP into self-healing, portals, and her obsession with clothes. Nearly has so-called "Fourth Weave", too. Urgh, she'll probably be even more sanctimonious about that when that happens. Sigh.

Nothing here to explain how her communication works, though. I mean, I've copied it. I'm fully aware that the hand gestures don't actually mean anything. But hey, she apparently got it without having to pay for it. Because that's fair.

And then we get a look at her Resurreccion, and discover she's stolen Barragan's aesthetics. Well, she is a kleptomaniac. Didn't I mention that before? She is. When she's not getting off on getting hurt, she likes stealing body parts and making things from them. Even stole one of my arms and used it to make herself a glove, without even asking me.

I mean, I'm not really complaining. Telling someone you're wearing their arm is a pretty hilarious prank. But once again, so much for moral superiority from Little Miss Nemo.

Oh, and she has Mundane Skills too. See, this is what I was talking about when I say she's clearly stealing power from other universes. She's maxed out Style and she's a Master of medicine (not telling anyone about that bit - and hey, didn't I hear the old medic just... vanished one day.). There's no way she's affording all this on a Numeros budget, or even a Fraccions. There's clearly fraud going on here. I don't object to fraud, but I want in on it.

(So give me XP! Come on, it'll be great. We'll have a Bala).

Up next she's describing some of the wealth of magical items she has, although I do note two of them have just got 'TBD'. Pretty lazy there.

And finally we have a long, long, long list of "Canon Omakes" and "Non-Canon Omakes", the documentary evidence of the power she's stealing from other universes and how she's earning XP on the side outside of the main story. Disgusting. In that she's not telling me how to do it. Obviously it's not disgusting to farm up your own XP.

And bullshit, you get XP for having pictures of you? This sickens me. This actually does. I don't know who this Coshiua is, but they clearly have a thing for masks given how many things they've drawn of her.

Oh God, the list just doesn't stop.

---

Character Files

And here we look at the people who Nemo has been oh-so-generously occasionally throwing XP from her obvious wealth to. So kind of her. Really.

So, first up, we have the now-Quinta. As befits Nemo's sugar-mama she's clearly been getting a lot of XP thrown to her. It's enough to claw her out of the Privaron and as high as an adjuchas can get. And she's another old model, just like Nemo. Shit, isn't Grimmjow, too? Do we have an Old Model Network here where they're conspiring against their betters?

But anyway, there's a long and tedious talk about everything she's done, and then a reminder that she can rub her stats in our faces. We also see that her and Nemo cunningly decided to cover each other's weaknesses, because she's actually able to fight up close but is out-gunned by Nemo.

Next up we have your hero, me. The one who should be an Espada rather than a Fraccion. And who has far less written about him than Cirucci. Not that I'm bitter. But hey, I'm "sneaky, ambitious and unnerving", which is a very sweet description. I didn't know you cared!

And we get to see my stat block, which is... well, clearly Espada tier. Look at it! Look at those beautiful round numbers. Now, how about making those numbers a bit bigger?

Next we have two people called Esmeralda and Spider-friend. I don't know who they are and I don't care about them, so I won't even expand their boxes. That's how little I care.

Then there's her mentor for all that clothing things. I wonder if he also gets his kicks from hurting himself. Did she learn it from him? Anyway, he's not important enough to get a stat block like me or the Thunderwitch. We also have "Jackelton", in quotation marks. Not sure why. But he's that Calveras she was willing to get me almost killed over.

And then there's Barragan Luisenbarn. Um. I'm... not going to say anything he might take as disrespect. I like my body the way it is; young, beautiful, not-at-all-flabby, and not a ten million year old pile of dust.

I have no idea who this 'Findoor' is, but he sounds boring. I'm aware it's spelled 'Findorr', but I don't feel like giving him that respect.

And there's our poor former Diez. Sadly not deceased. Sad for him, that is. Anyway, he's basically my polar opposite, so basically he had everything coming to him and this kind of karmic fate amuses me greatly. It's those vicious streaks in the Thunderwitch and Nemo that help remind me of their hypocrisy.

Boring dead shinigami, boring dead Hollow, hilariously dead Ruddborne. That thing was a mess, but I did get to see the expression - such as it was - on his face just before the Gran Rey Cero hit him. It's a reminder that a) Nemo is bullshit, and b) she always keeps something in reserve. It wasn't quite funny enough to make up for me losing my route to the Espada, but at least it was something.

---

And God, I can't be bothered to do an entire section of actual prose now. I'm going to sign off now. But I'll be back.

And you lot better give me more XP, or I'll have words to say during my next review.

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This is hilarious and an even better concept that Nemo reading her own character sheet. I want more of it. 25xp.

Hypothetical!Mangareader!Speculation!Omake


Thinking back it's interesting that, by and large, the shinigami (or rather soul society) seems to rely almost exclusively on their sword whereas we have seen that the arracnar have made use of a variety of different magical items, often only tangentially related to combat. It's a nice note of contrast and in many ways makes them seem more human in many ways? I dont know if that's the right term but like look at their societies.

The Shinigami are samurai, they are warriors. They are also the ruling class. Soul Society is a warrior society. For all their pretensions to culture and nobility, at the end of the day power is all that matters. The stronger you are the higher your rank, no its and or buts. This is clearly seen in Kenpachi, who has none of the class or nobility of the others and yet, because he is strong, is just as highly ranked as any other captains. However it's also shown in Rukia. It doesn't matter that shes a noble. She's weak and so she never got a position of influence. No where is the importance of power better represented than in their swords however. A shinigami's sword is their most prized possession, best friend, and greatest weapon all tied into one. It more than any other item, defines them. And for most shinigami it's the only magic item they own. In fact, the shinigami which own items are usually aberrant in some way. Yorouchi and Kisuke are traitors, Kenpachi is... Kenpachi.


Contrast that with what we've seen of the arracnar. They all have swords yes, but they don't prize them. Their is no fetishization of the weapon. Many of them, such as Grimjow and Luppi, don't even use them to fight. In fact "Releasing/Unsheathing their sword" is how they turn back into monsters. It's a desperate last move as they lose their humanity, certainly not something to be bragged about like a Shinkai. Do it's interesting to me that rather then trying to enhance their weapons or create new ones like the Shinigami, the Arracnar seem to be spending their resources building utility items. Its gives the sense that their society is much less martial oriented then Soul Society and makes me wonder if perhaps they aren't ruled by a warring cast. It's really beginning to seem more and more like the Soul Society is going to end up the bad guys of this arc as well. I wonder if Ichigo's time among the arracnars will be used to show us how much better hollow society is co pared to soul society.

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Okay these are still fun and I don't mind seeing more of them but I'm gonna stop rewarding manga reader takes with XP because there are getting to be a lot of them and they're a bit easy to crank out

To Protect The World From Devastation!
To Unite All People Within Our Nation!
Cirucci! Nemo!
Team Hollow Blasts You
With The Speed of Light

Surrender Now Or Prepare to Fight!

Luppi! That's Right!


I apparently missed a birthday so here is Hollow executive Cirucci, and her loyal grunt Nemo. Plus Luppi I guess.

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Astounding. I am astounded. Luppi is perfect. 25xp.

And so, here is a Harribel omake, because honestly she deserves more time in the sun.
​

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A Rumination on the Death of an Underwater Organism

Ever since becoming an Arrancar, Tier Harribel grew to enjoy diving. Of course, it was nothing new to her: in the dark of hunger, she ruled the hadean depths of hollow oceans, a predator with no peer beneath the black waves. But back then, she was wholly a creature of the waters, and the waters were to her like air. But once her mask was broken, this ease diminished, however slightly. Now to dive beneath was to take a breath and hold it, feel the air in your lungs, rely on it. It wasn't necessity, not strictly; she could breathe the water, but it was not air for her. It was something different, and there was a charm to putting on the pretense of holding on to your breath, for minutes, hours. An ardent insistence that something human could still be emulated.

There were many such small pleasures in being an Arrancar. The pang of morning hunger. Wringing water from damp hair. Clothes worn for more than just protection from the elements. Littlest things, so hard to come by under the laughing half-moon of Hueco Mundo, and the only bridge she knew between the state of a Hollow and what they had all lost.

It was with pleasure, then, that she slipped from her robe and stepped into the coolness of the pool in her throne-chamber, submerging herself, and then slowly beginning to dive below. Sometimes, she wished that there would be an extension to the cavernous tunnels in which she built her lair, running deep and far, into a realm of vast underground lakes and rivers. But the waterways of Las Noches flooded not with water, but with tar-like matter of death. They were no sea and they were no river. And yet, she was still the Lady of the Old Waters, and they followed her where she went.

It is how the pool came to be, and when the waters first started to coalesce in her lair she tended to them like one would to a garden and smiled as empowered by her they burrowed into the stone foundations of the city of Hollows. It took time, patience and careful tending, so that they would not be disturbed, but the waters eventually chewed through enough rock to form a flooded cavern of sorts. A tangle of tiny channels etched in bedrock, like tiniest veins through which her water drained. An oasis, a pool, a reminder that even the desert needs not to be ever barren.

The Tres Bestias would sometimes dive with her, but they were creatures of the land; where she swam they could not follow, and that was, after a fashion, appropriate. As the lights above became murky and dim and she found herself in the dark of the depth, she entered the kingdom of her own privacy, where no thing would disturb her. Slowly, leisurely making way through them was akin to meditation, the weight and vastness of the world momentarily gone.

But even there, she wasn't alone.

To find what she was looking for she had to swim all the way down and squeeze herself through shafts and cracks she could bare fit, into gloom that had never been graced by the meagre light of Hueco Mundo's moon or the false brightness of Aizen's torch. And yet, there was no darkness.

Dozens, hundreds, of tiny creatures floated in the waters, each glowing pale blue or green, like oversized fireflies. The light they gave was too unsteady to allow an unaided eye to pick off their real shape, and Harribel knew they did not have one. They were no species of fish, nothing born out of evolution or design, no. They were born of spiritual energy, and just like the power that spawned them, their growth was mysterious and indeterminable. Even though she observed them for a long time now, she could never tell how one would look or how one would grow.

This limitation, too, cheered her.

They parted at her arrival as they always did, cowed by the linger echo of her own power. But this time something was out of order. There were too many of them, and each of them grew far larger than ever. Gripped by a nasty premonition, she dove down towards the bottom of the cavern. Her eyes peered through the dark of the water and saw a terrible sight.

The sludge-covered surface was overgrown by a bramble of bone-like sprouts, white and fragile. They covered the entire breadth of it, as if someone had upturned an ossuary and spilled its contents all over the bottom. That was not new, unlike the fact that they did not glow. She remembered how they looked before, spectral, flickering lights, will-o-the-wisps of the depths. Now, barely any gave even a tiniest bit of light.

It was never their own glow. It was the little, shining outgrowths of spiritual energy that lived in their shelter, feeding on the scraps floating to the bottom. The bony growth sapped a bit of their residual energy, never enough to fully devour them, but enough to sustain themselves. Their pale, stolen lights used to mingle with the glow of the spectral critters, giving the appearance of tempting wisps. Now, it was as dead as the bones it reminded her so much of.

She tasted the water, looking for an explanation, and found it in the acrid taste.

Too slight even for her to take notice without searching for it first, but unmistakable once she had gotten a whiff of it. A tangy note, like a tiniest of electric jolts. An echo of a storm. She swam back up, where the floating lights swarmed, bloated on spiritual energy.

There were old drains in Las Noches through which black ooze ran; never water, but rather dissolved matter of Menos Grande, souls reduced to their component matter. The canals channeled it into caves and caves channeled them into a river which still fed into waterways that then fell down into caverns forgotten by men and Hollows. She worked her water-garden around them, always keeping solid rock between waters and this liquid death; the two ecosystems could not coexist. But the bounty of the spiritual is not easily contained by mere rock and architecture. Although the Gillian sludge could not seep through stone, the Quinta's tempestuous flood sifted through it.

The waters may not had mixed, but a trace of the Thunder-Witch's power made it all the way the Tercera's secret garden. Too slight for even the basest of hollows to be sustained by, but for the bottom feeders here, used to scavenging each spare mote, this had to be like an unexpected windfall, a feast unlike anything they had ever experienced. The waters were shot by this power, high on it, and enabled them to grow so large, so fat.

There was so much of it around that they did not need to scrape stray motes off the bottom, and be leached on by the growth there. They could rise above it and feed in the open. But the growth, anchored to the rock below had no such opportunity and without the creatures to drain, it could not extract the spiritual energy from the waters like they did. So it withered and died. Someone's boom, someone's bust.

Harribel turned back and swam to the surface, to sit at the edge of the pool, wring water from her hair and think.

Perhaps in other branches of the subterranean garden, they still thrived. Maybe this one patch got strangled in the wake of the Thunderbird's ascension. In the end, was it even important? Why would it be? It was just her garden, a small distraction that she was fond of, but inconsequential.

But she could not stop thinking. The bust would end. The energy unleashed would keep draining below for days and weeks to come, but at some point it too would run out, and the creatures would return to scavenging at the bottom. Would the bone-coral grow back then? Or would this short lapse cause the end of it? Or perhaps it would also mean the end of the creatures themselves? She was never entirely sure of the relation between them and the bone-growth, but sometimes she suspected it to be far less one-sided than it would appear from the outside. Perhaps there was value for the creatures in being leeched off? She knew that deep in the garden, there lived a beast - a stray Hollow, perhaps, or maybe something spawned from the recesses of her spiritual presence - that sustained on the stray energy gathered within the glowing creatures. Its sense were keen and so she never saw one; it'd flee long before she had even approached. Maybe the bone-coral was a kind of a protection and now with it being dead, the creatures would all become devoured by the great beast, who then too would starve?

Or perhaps she worried too much, and about the wrong thing. Still, how could she not? How could she not worry when she lived among – when she was one – of beings who could, with their mere presence, upset entire unseen worlds, and be none the wiser for it? How many such patches of Hollow life died because of an Espada's release, of an angry hunt, of a spat, of a fight? They lived trampling the world underfoot without care and notice, and regret for what was squashed underfoot never entered their hearts.

But she could not stop seeing. Others might be well-versed in seeing causes, starting-point to set their schemes in motion, so that their goals would be reached. She instead saw consequences. Results that were unexpected and unaccepted. The price of power that was paid by those who suffered the most from it. How she hated that. How she hated the thought that stepping carelessly was the death of unknown lives.

And yet, there was a beauty to it that she could not deny. She thought of Cirucci, ready to turn the world to slag in the name of her one true love. It moved the heart and she could not begrudge her for that. More, her own Tres Bestias, her own wards, her own daughters envied that. They would never tell her to that face, but she could see well enough that they wondered if she would do the same for them if Tousen, or Aizen, or anyone else, ever extends their hand against them.

Would she? Would she allow herself a moment of carelessness that could spell the death of hundreds of worlds that she never got to see, never got to name, that she would never mourn? Would it be good for them, for the world?

Her hair mostly dry, she robed herself again, but did not move from the edge of the pool.

All she ever wanted was a world a little bit more accommodating for those who had to fear such a tempest out of the blue sky, such a moment where a power infinitely their greater would destroy them without even a second thought spared. That world seemed more distant with each day, with each moment bringing them closer to war.

In the end, Cirucci's rage saved more than one life. It was not just Nemo, but also Gantenabaine, also Luppi. This surge of fury she was convinced would only destroy and destabilize in the end turned out to be a blessing.

For some. Others, like her secret garden, diminished and died. She rubbed her temples. If there could be some scales on which she could measure the worth of life and action. If there was a way that she could say, and stay true to herself, that this being deserves more than another. If she could move past doubt, if she could grow past uncertainty.

If she could stop being herself? No, that would not do. Even if she wanted to, her nature was of an ocean. The storm passing above could stir it, but the storm would pass and the ocean would remain. But maybe life was not the ocean; maybe life was the abrupt strike of a lightning, the leap before you look?

She and the Tres lived surrounded by a solitude ten thousand fathoms deep. This brought safety, but also stasis. But was that the life they wanted? Or would she have to allow the dreams of safety to die, and allow them to leap?

Would she have to leap, too?​

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Well that was a fascinating look at Harribel continuing to be introspective and unsure what the fuck is going on with her world now. I'm gonna say canon. 50xp. the curve it breaaaks

Based on @Ylamona's Full Helmet Design:

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Now You Feel Like Number None Fan Art
Full Helmet Luppi
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Songs that the Hyades shall sing, Where flap the tatters of the King, Must die unheard in Dim Carcosa.

Coyote Starrk!Luppi
"One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do...."

​

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Oh, I like it. Very melancholy.

I do this because I love Now You Feel Like Number None. The XP is just a really nice bonus.

Barragan Louisenbairn!Luppi Antenor
"I wouldn´t have to work at all, I´d fool around and have a ball...."



​

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He looks so happy! And classy, too.

Tier Harribel!Luppi Antenor
"Mysterious as the ocean...."
​

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Not bad either.

50xp for the lot! And Luppi gets 25xp from it.

Aaroniero Dreams of Water

Far below the thousand halls and myriad corridors of Las Noches, in an old, old cavern where stalactites hung in ranks and the air was as hot and heavy as breath, Aaroniero Arruruerie sat dreaming. He was cross-legged, his mask and robes discarded at the far side of the cave, exposing glass and steel and leather beneath. His left arm was deformed, like a lamprey three feet long, or like the tongue of some behemoth, and it lay across his lap like a sword.

Aaroniero was dreaming of a swamp. The sky was black, with only the stark white moon of Hueco Mundo for illumination. All about was water stained black with silt, dotted with low islands, choked with reeds like knives and weeds spiked like the tines of a fork. The smell of mud hung in the air, with undertones of rotting fish in the distance. Yet within this landscape there stood a rammed-earth house, roofed with dried reeds, with a washing line and a bright red door. Aaroniero knew this house well, and he flowed towards it, his inner self all tar, blacker than the water and the sky.

The house's occupants were in the yard. Two Arrancars held staves of pinewood, eying each other nervously. One lunged at the other, aiming for the shoulder with a thrust, but the larger hollow deftly knocked aside her opponent's staff and struck his hand as he tried to correct his stance.

"Hit! 5 hits for Grainne to 1 for Itau." A tall, dark haired man was observing the fight. His garb was tattered, torn and patched with Gillian cloth in more places than anyone could count, but it was recognizably a shinigami's shihakusho. He stepped up to the small man and frowned. "Can you tell me why you can't beat Grainne?"

"M-master Kaien, I… I can do better than this. I'll practice till I drop," he said, flinching away from Kaien Shiba's gaze.

Kaien sighed softly. "Perhaps, but what did you do wrong today?"

"She's just faster than me. You know these spars are all about speed. I'd smash her flimsy Hierro in a real fight." Grainne rolled her eyes at this remark, turning towards the log where five other Arrancars sat, snickering at the unfortunate Itau.

Kaien picked up his own staff, and settled into a loose copy of Grainne's stance. "Lots of opponents are going to be faster than you. A demon's belly isn't a fair playing field. You need to fight in a way that accounts for their faster movements, like…" he said, trailing off as he turned towards the swamp. "Well, look who's here. How 'bout a live demonstration?"

"How uncivilized! Just days ago you were the apple of Las Noches' eye, and now those lips speak such bitter words. You must be famished for attention." Aaroniero's voice burbled and rumbled like boiling tar. The Arrancars gathered in the yard cringed and quickly clustered behind Kaien, Itau once again accepted into the pack.

"That's a funny way to say 'I'm sorry I stole your face and wore it to the party, Kaien.' Unless you feel like dying, I haven't got time for you."

"Remember who ate who, boy. It's my mouth that spits up scraps for you and your pets here. I did you a great favour and swallowed you whole, and all you have to do is lend a hand," said the tarball as it gathered itself into a human shape on the shore of the islet. Four red lights wavered in the depths of the tar, looking back and forth like searchlights.

"Nope. Not buying it. I don't make a habit of negotiating with man-eaters." Kaien spoke easily, but he gripped his staff tightly, never taking his eyes off the Espada.

Aaroniero moved suddenly, part rolling, part oozing towards Kaien's students. "You heard the man. It's time to go, unless you've only ever eaten the littlest autotrophs."

Grainne was wide-eyed and pale-faced, straining under the tar's spiritual pressure, but managed to gasp out a reply. "We're not cannibals. F-Fuck off!" She swiped at the figure, but her staff just got stuck in its outermost layer of tar.

Kaien stepped in, pushing the Arrancars away from Aaroniero. "It's a dangerous world out there, you know? Somebody created a hellswamp, and I couldn't just let more people walk into the wilds and get eaten by some hollow with no support. I don't know what these guys did before you ate them, but I know they didn't deserve this. They were the weak ones, the ones who didn't try to kill me on sight."

"The ones who were cowardly and dumb enough to follow a shinigami, in other words. You know perfectly well what made this swamp a hell, boy, and it isn't me. And you should be well aware that all this training is pointless for you. I'd like nothing more than for all my souls to get along like peas in a pod. When you train your bitches, my spear becomes steadier. When you stop them from fighting, my self-control gets tighter. I learned how to meditate and perceive my inner swamp from you. If you want to hurt me, bite off your tongue and choke."

Kaien was silent for a moment, gazing east, where the swamp grew flatter and flatter. "We were partners. I'm not going to die until she's happy again. It's all your fault she's become like this."

"Hah! You never truly knew it. It would gladly kill you if it let her bite into me. You have no true ally here, save me. Join me, and we can put her down and both be far happier for it."

"For the hundredth time, no. I have no reason to help the monster that ate me."

"I consumed that which consumed you. Metastacia was not half so kind as I, was she? Truly, I am you, and you are-" At this, Kaien delivered a swift kick to Aaroniero's center of mass, sending him tumbling into the swamp. Aaroniero quivered, sprouting pseudopods bristling with barbs, but relented and sank into the dark water.

Kaien hurled insults as the Novena swam away, but Aaroniero's mind had already turned elsewhere. As he swam eastwards, where the water was deeper, and the land further apart, the smell of rotting fish blew in on a strong wind, tickling some nameless organ tucked away in the tar.

At the edge of the clearing, behind a low rise capped with pungent flowers, another hollow waited. Metastacia's body was just as Aaroniero remembered; that is, just as Kaien remembered it, memories unfolding below the surface of the Espada's consciousness. He was more plant than animal, a tangle of ruddy vines and pale green roots, a broad mask decorated with flames bursting out of the center of the heap. He scuttled alongside Aaroniero, six short root-limbs keeping him low to the ground.

"Master! I have done far more to aid you than he. Grant me your boon, and I will rip the loathsome shinigami and his pet to shreds for you," said Metastacia, panting as he loped after Aaroniero.

Aaroniero paused and seemed to turn without moving his body, four lights like eyes orienting themselves towards the other hollow. "I have tasted every trick you knew in life, Metastacia. All two of them. Dogs gather a pack because they know they are weak, but rats think themselves strong simply because they can steal a scrap here or there." Aaroniero paused to lean closer, flecks of tar splashing against Metastacia's mask like spit. "The taste of rat is bitter. Recall who is the dog and who the rat before you speak to me again."

Metastacia lashed out, three vines like heavy clubs slamming into the tarry body of the Espada. "I made you what you are, lout! Without me, you would still be the whipping-boy of Numeros like those," he said gesturing back at Kaien's hut with one limb. "My power, my will built everything you have! I am the real Espada, and you-" Metastacia's rant was abruptly ended, as Aaroniero, not at all bothered by the three strong limbs embedded halfway through him, grabbed Metastacia and thrust him down into the thick, dark water. Metastacia blubbered, no more able to escape the sticky clutch of the Espada's tentacles than a fly submerged in honey. Aaroniero eventually relented, leaving Metastacia to choke up mud as the master of the world swam on.

The house passed out of sight, and the swamp grew terribly still. Here a heron hollow fished in the deep water, its many heads thrusting below the reeds like harpoons, there an alligator thirty feet long waited for some morsel to pass by, masquerading as a fallen tree floating out to sea, but neither had caught any prey for a long time. Aaroniero went unnoticed, his spirit all folded up in the tar.

At the utmost east, the land fell away. The wind was a screaming gale, and the waves rose up five, six feet and smashed against the mud as if gobbling it away. No hollows dared to venture out here. Aaroniero rose up, lifting his four eyes above the water, and spoke, his voice reverberating below the waves moreso than above.

"Nejibana! She who stirs the sea and sky! Come!" And in the sea, something stirred. It was once a starfish and a woman, but for years it had gobbled up any hollow that ventured too close to the shore and grown bloated on their fat. Its flesh was a deep purple, so dark it could scarcely be distinguished from the black water. Countless mouths and tentacles and spines ran along its sides, each of its five limbs longer than any serpent. It emerged from the impenetrable darkness below, just meters from Aaroniero. He raised himself up and spoke loudly: "I command you by your name. War is upon us, and every mouth must chew the cud of our enemies together."

"Carrion! The least insect has more right to command me than you! I will consume you! Nine-tenths of all the land have I sunk. Nine-tenths of your thirty thousand souls have I eaten. When the bright blue rain falls, my hundred mouths consume nine in ten parts. Now are the final days of your existence!" The invertebrate's voice was like a army roused for battle, a hundred voices shouting, a hundred swords clanging against a hundred iron shields. The waves redoubled their war against the land, rising above the trees as if to rip them from the ground.

"Kaien Shiba still lives within me. Would you destroy him along with me?"

"I have no use for that coward! You chewed apart the bond between us, thinking we would be your dogs! When a warrior faces death, he should have no thought except to claw and bite at his killer until there is no strength left in his jaw! Behold!" Aaroniero might have replied, but Nejibana thrust one limb, its foremost mouth opening wider than an archway, and then it was upon him.

In a dark cavern below Las Noches, Aaroniero Arruruerie woke. He controlled his screams with the dignity of an officer, but within him his organs flowed like water and his bones turned to jelly. After some minutes, he raised himself up, lifting liquid limbs contained in steel by will alone. For some time he had been struggling to master himself and control the liquefaction. Yet the dinner hour grew close, and when it came he might not even have a mouth.

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This is a really interesting idea, definitely. Kinda makes me miss all the character development I could have done for Aaroniero if you'd been his Fraccion

That said, having all the souls of Aaroniero as alive inside him, and him going around talking to them, is perhaps a bit off. 25xp.

LXXXXII.I A Coward's Word

"You are dismissed," Aizen had said to you. "I must meet with Kurosaki at last. The Espada will meet again soon - there is much to speak of."

That was fifteen minutes ago.

Lord Aizen's palace is by now one third demolished, and the three of you are hiding at a nice safe distance. You're loyally waiting for orders, of course. It would be rude to go into the bits of Aizen's palace forbidden to even the Espada without express permission.

A giant black and red explosion shakes the earth and makes your teeth rattle. One of the spiritual pressures in the distance vanishes.

"Oooh, that was Zommari," Luppi says smugly. "Pay up, my lady."

Cirucci scowls. "I was sure he'd get Aaroniero first," she mutters, digging around in her pockets for a token that'll get him a week off.

"Nah, he's too much of a coward to stand and fight."

He's not so much a coward, you point out, as someone aware of his limitations. You frown. And the form which he'd worn to the Gala had looked a lot like Ichigo Kurosaki.

"What are you saying, Nemo?" Cirucci says, delaying paying up to Luppi.

Well, you point out, Szayel and Illforte are brothers. Maybe Aaroniero and Ichigo are. It's just one became a Hollow and one became a shinigami.

"Ah, brotherly love," Luppi says happily, as dust drifts down from the ceiling. "It's so romantic."

You and Cirucci inch away from Luppi.

You know, you point out nervously, perhaps this isn't far enough away. The explosions haven't stopped. And... well, uh, Aizen is dead. So the three of you together, even if you were fresh - and none of you are - don't stand a chance against the concentrated bullshit that is Ichigo Kurosaki and what he's become.

"... that's a good point," Luppi agrees.

"How did this even happen?" Cirucci moans. "None of this makes any sense."

The three of you nearly jump out of your skins when someone clears their throat behind you. It's Gin, looking spotless and very, very smug. Like, whoa smug. Smug even by his standards.

"What is it, Ichimaru?" Cirucci demands, trying to sound like she isn't avoiding having a heart attack.

"Nothing at all, my dear Quinta. Although I thought you were a bird, not a mole. Hiding down here is rather athematic for you, mmm?"

Cirucci twitches with irritation, but says nothing. Luppi grins at that. "Were we betrayed?" he asks happily.

"Betrayed? I can't, mmm, see how that would be the case. It's probably just arrancar incompetence," Gin says, his voice occupying a newfound smug highland beyond the ken of mortal man. "Somehow Ichigo Kurosaki got his sword back, then turned into a giant Hollow monster and ate Lord Aizen's hand at the exact moment when he was activating his shikai. I don't know who was responsible for securing those bonds, but they didn't do a very good job of it. Also Aizen got stabbed repeatedly in the back by a mysterious party who was nowhere near him. I blame Zommari."

"We probably need to set the Exquitas to investigating, my lord," Luppi says, with a courteous bow.

"Very good idea, Luppi, very good idea. I'll get right to it. Right to it." Gin lazily ambles away. "I'm heading back to Soul Society, by the way," he adds. "You might want to work out what to do with yourselves. Ciao."

Luppi grins. "I love that guy," he says. "I'd rock his world, but he's the only straight person I know."

Wait, really? You frown. Someone into heterosexual sex in the missionary position, possibly for the purposes of procreation? The very thought disgusts and abhors you. Shinigami are perverse creatures.

"We're getting distracted," Cirucci says. "I suspect Barragan will be making his move to reclaim Las Noches, and we probably don't want to be here when he releases. None of us want to be ten million years older. I think it behoves us to act busy."

What now?

< > Well, the Espada are meant to be the strongest Hollows. And Zommari is dead. And Ichigo Kurosaki is apparently a Hollow. And you can become an Espada by killing the previous holder of the title. Someone needs to tell Ichigo that, and he might calm down.
< > The thought occurs to Nemo that Aizen's body must have some very interesting reagents in it. Try to persuade the other two to help you loot Aizen.
< > Aizen is dead. Party? Party. Gala? Gala.

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This is the absolute most amazing. 25xp. "A newfound smug highland beyond the ken of mortal man," indeed.

How to Train your Vasto Lorde
or
An Insight into the Journey from Reason to Absurdity
​

It was strange, Cirucci mused as she approached the doors to Barragan's chambers, to be actually looking forward to a training session with the Segunda. Normally they were something she- whilst not dreading- felt some apprehension towards, the natural fear of a lesser seeking to instruct their greater. But today, after yesterday's stress of the mission to Karakura, Ulquiorra's possible-betrayal, and Nemo's near death… she needed something routine, away from the people she cared about, where she could vent some frustration.

Walking up to doors, Cirucci nodded curtly but not impolitely to Ggio Vega, the Fraccion standing guard, and said, "I believe Your Majesty is expecting me?"

"He is." Ggio replied, a slight smirk worming its way onto his face. "And more than that, His Majesty has been awaiting this session with some anticipation. I believe once you enter, he will wish to start sparring immediately."

Cirucci blink in surprise at that comment, though showed no visible sign of a shift in her composure beyond that even as her mind began racing. Barragan had been anticipating this, and wanted to begin sparring immediately with no discussion? Neither of those was normal.

'What could it mean?' Cirucci wondered, her anticipation of this meeting falling away before a rising concern. While it was unlikely whatever had caused this shift in Barragan's behaviour meant he was angry with her, any change in behaviour from someone as powerful as him was cause for concern. And the reason behind it, the only thing she could immediately think of that might have caused such a change…

…could he have done it? Achieved Ressureccion Ascendente? And if he had…

…well, if that was the case then there was nothing she could do about it, and panicking would do nothing to help. Keeping her body language calm and forcing back an apprehensive swallow, Cirucci gave Ggio a dismissing glance, then pushed open the door to Barragan's chambers and stepped inside.

And immediately stopped dead in her tracks at the sight that stood before her. For several seconds she was unable to do anything but stare in shock, before finally her mouth started working again, and an incredulous, "What." escaped from between her lips.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" Ggio asked, entering behind her and closing the door.

"I mean… what." Cirucci said, unable to tear her eyes away from the absurdity before her. "What has His Majesty done to himself?"

"Oh, that? Training aids, meant to limit His Majesty 's abilities and allow him to spar with you without the worry of overpowering you completely." Ggio replied, his answer receiving an affirmative grunt and nod from Barragan.

"Training aids." Cirucci said flatly, finally managing to rip her gaze away from Barragan, and turning to Ggio. "I… suppose I am familiar with the concept, having made use of such devices myself, but a simple answer of 'Training aids' does not explain that." She concluded, gesturing imperiously at Barragan.

"To begin with, how did he even come up with this idea in the first place?"

Ggio smirked, and in a smug tone replied, "It's ingenious, is it not? And it all started with a simple suggestion by yours truly. If you wish for the full story, and Your Majesty will permit the delay?"

Upon receiving a nod from Cirucci and an affirmative grunt from Barragan, Ggio allowed his smirk to grow wider, and said, "After your sparring with His Majesty began producing results, he decided to train with us as well in the hopes he might make similar gains. However, it did not go as he wished…"

…

"Hrmph." Barragan said gruffly, his gaze falling over his fallen Fraccion in a manner both dismissive and judgemental. "Pathetic. Truly pathetic."

"P-pathetic, Your Majesty ?" Charlotte asked through panted breaths, leaning heavily on Nirgge for support as he did. The mammothian man was the only one of the Fraccion present still in his Ressureccion, and as such was currently acting as something of a leaning post for his exhausted fellows- not because he was in better shape than them, but because he was too tired to summon the concentration needed to reseal his powers.

"Pathetic." Barragan confirmed, folding his arms and stepping towards them.

"All of you together, all of you save Choe in your released states… and not one of you drew blood from me. The Quinta may not be able to defeat me, but even sealed she was able to manage that."

"F-forgive us, Your Majesty ." Abirama said, bowing his head as low as he could without falling over. "Despite your hopes for this method, we are simply too much weaker than you. It is our failure."

Barragan snorted in disgust. "Weaker? I never took you to be one to understate matters, Abirama. I could easily defeat every one of you with one arm tied behind my back." Shaking his head in disappointment, Barragan began to turn away from his Fraccion when Ggio suddenly cleared his throat loudly.

"Your Majesty …" He said carefully, as Barragan turned his gaze on him, an eyebrow raised. "Perhaps that isn't such a far-fetched idea at all…"

…

"So, because of a chance turn of phrase, you came up with the idea to restrain His Majesty during in sparring." Cirucci said flatly, her arms folded. "But it still doesn't explain that. For a start, the phrase is 'one arm tied behind the back' not chained."

"Ah, we did actually try that at first." Ggio replied, shrugging and suddenly sounding slightly sheepishly. "But we embarrassingly underestimate His Majesty 's strength when we did…"

…

Barragan ducked to the side of a slow, heavy blow from Choe, leaped above a Cero fired by Charlotte, and immediately turned to parry a blow from Ggio's wrist-blades on his axe. As grudging as it was, he couldn't help but admit that the simple measure of tying his arm behind him was proving a surprising hinderance. The open spot it created in his defences was something his Fraccion were exploiting for all it was worth, and it even made it somewhat more difficult to go on the offensive. His immense power meant there was no chance of him being completely overwhelmed, or even coming close to it, but he was still finding things noticeably more difficult than his previous sparring session…

The static of Sonido to his side snapped Barragan out of his moment of introspection, and he twisted to see Charlotte already mid-way into a kick to his midsection. Cursing his second of inattention, Barragan reacted on instinct by bringing up his arm to block-

-and with a great rip of tearing cloth, tore his bound arm free and smacked the kick aside. All combatants froze as they realised what had just happened, Barragan standing stock still with his arm still extended, his Fraccion looking on in silent fear at the prospect of the plan's failure rousing Barragan's wrath. After a few seconds, however, Barragan simply relaxed out of his combat stance and said, "Hmph. It would appear that we need stronger restraints. Abirama? Fetch some before our next session."

…

Cirucci nodded slowly on hearing Ggio's account. "Alright. So that's why His Majesty's arm is bound to his back by-" her eyes briefly flickered over to Barragan, then back, "-fifteen loops of chain. But what about his legs?"

"Well…"

…

Barragan clinked as he moved, the chains around him chiming even as his axe blurred to parry constant strikes from Ggio, Charlotte, and Nirgge together. The reckless attack wasn't something that they would be able to keep up long, and the trio were leaving themselves hideously open in committing like this, but Barragan had to admit he was grudgingly impressed. With only one arm he couldn't spare the time to capitalise on their lack of caution, and was forced to put his all into defense as he waited for one of them to slip up and leave an opening. Which wouldn't be a problem is it was only the three of them against him, but-

-almost as if called there by his thoughts, Barragan's remaining two Fraccion appeared behind him in the static of Sonido, ready to attack his unprotected back. Their strikes curved in, even as the three before him pressed their own assault to keep him from turning-

-and then Barragan was gone, vanishing in the static of his own Sonido. His Fraccion were all left stumbling as the target of their unrestrained aggression vanished, and by the time they had recovered it was too late; from above them, the light of their master's charging Cero was shining down on them.

An instant later, it was over.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." Ggio panted, covered in burns and on the floor on his knees. "Even bound like this, you're still too fast."

"True." Barragan said, frowning and stroking his beard in thought, before his eyes snapped onto another of his Fraccion. "Charlotte? Once Abirama wakes up, tell him to fetch more chains."

…

"…and so, as you can see, His Majesty had us wrap his legs together in chain from the ankles to the top of his legs." Ggio explained, nodding in satisfaction.

"Mmm." Cirucci said, also nodding, though in her case sceptically. "And the blindfold?"

…

"Arghh!" Screamed Nirgge, frozen in terror as his doom descended towards him in the form of an old man with a calculating expression on his face and two feet aimed straight at the top of his domed mask-

…

"Even with His Majesty 's legs bound, he was simply too accurate with the movements he could still make." Ggio concluded with a helpless shrug. "So by depriving him of his sight, we not only removed that advantage, but are forcing him to hone his spiritual perception at the same time."

"I… see." Cirucci replied, rubbing her temple to try and rid herself of the building headache. "And I already know I'm going to regret asking this, but… what's the reason for the socks?"

…

Unable to see, with only one arm available, and his movement constrained, Barragan was… struggling. Yes, that was the word. Struggling. It was strange, it was so long since he'd been placed in such a situation- even his conflict with Aizen had not been a struggle, though for the opposite reason to normal. But here and now? His Fraccion were pressuring him, forcing him to remain on the defensive, and evading those opportunities to attack he did find.

Yes. This was working.

Barragan allowed himself a rare smile at the realisation, even as he hurriedly evaded barely sensed attacks from Ggio's blades and Abirama's feathers, accepting the need to soak a punch from Nirgge on his Hierro in exchange. The powerful blow failed to make it through his iron skin, but… it was close. A better position, more aid from the others, or even simple luck… and Barragan would have been wounded.

"Beautiful Charlotte Chuhlhourne's-" Barragan snapped his head towards the sound of Charlotte preparing one of his extremely long-winded attacks, but before he could Sonido over to the rough location and try to interrupt the flamboyant attack Ggio and Nirgge were in his face- twin seething masses of spiritual energy throwing strikes that he could only barely discern in time to parry.

"-Final Holy Wonderful Pretty Super Magnum-" But that didn't mean Barragan was defenceless. Even as he used his axe to deflect and block and counter, a shimmering orb of light began gathering at its tip.

"-Sexy Sexy Glamorous Cero!" Charlotte concluded with a triumphant shout, releasing a wide beam of violet energy at his lord.

"Cero." Barragan stated simply, jabbing his axe towards Charlotte and unleashing his own wave of destruction back.

And like that, once again, the fight was over.

"Hrmph. It appears this was all useless after all. In the end, I'm simply too powerful." Barragan stated, unable to keep his disappointment out of his voice. They had been so close, and yet…

"Ahem, Your Majesty, if I may?" Charlotte spoke up, breaking Barragan out of his thoughts.

"You spoke the name of your attack to counter mine, but if you had not done so it would have been weaker. Not enough that it would have failed to overcome mine, but enough that I would have been left capable of fighting. And perhaps Nirgge would have, too." Charlotte said, adding the last part as an afterthought with an absent-minded gesture towards the gently smoking mammoth-man who'd been unfortunate enough to be caught by the edge of the Cero.

"So what you are saying is… that I need something to keep myself from speaking the names of my attacks, and thus inadvertently strengthening them." Barragan said slowly. For several seconds he remained still in silent contemplation, before abruptly nodding once, sharply.

"Abirama! Bring me something suitable to use as a gag!"

…

"And so we concluded our grand project of bringing His Majesty down to our level. Combined, we can now draw his blood in combat!" Ggio said, raising his arms triumphantly. "And after that success, he was eager to test his newly weakened self against you, and see if you might force him to use Senescencia or perhaps even release- what are you doing?" He broke off, as without warning Cirucci turned sharply on her heel and began walking back to the chamber door.

"I need a moment to adjust myself." Cirucci replied without looking back, stopping before the door. "If you'll excuse me, please?"

And with that, the normally composed Quinta began repeatedly smacking her forehead into the door as hard as she could. Ggio blinked in surprise at the sight, before looking back to his lord to see that Barragan had lifted his blindfold and was examining Cirucci with raised eyebrows. After a moment's examination his gaze shifted away from the odd sight and he locked eyes with Ggio, and both Espada and Fraccion found themselves sharing a single thought.

'What an odd thing to do. Why can't she be normal and sensible, like us?'

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This is word crimes. How are you not in jail? You monster. 25xp.

Thank you. That was very helpful.

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What a beautiful, haunted look. And I dig the horns. Let's call it 25xp.

< > Well, the Espada are meant to be the strongest Hollows. And Zommari is dead. And Ichigo Kurosaki is apparently a Hollow. And you can become an Espada by killing the previous holder of the title. Someone needs to tell Ichigo that, and he might calm down.

The argument between the younger drifters and Urahara's adults was just about to really reach a fever pitch when, to everyone's surprise, a garganta opened in the street in front of the shop.

Before Tessai could even complete a hado incantation to block the opening, Ichigo Kurosaki slouched out of the portal. He looked exhausted, but well-dressed, in a snappy white uniform with a long coat. It looked a lot like his bankai outfit, actually, but white with black accents. He turned and waved to the masked figure standing in the portal, who silently closed it behind him.

"Hey, guys," he opened. "You will not believe the weird-ass day I just had."

He might have been about to say more, but then Tatsuki punched him and he passed out.

...

"So, anyhow," he told the group back inside the candy shop, some time later, "Cirucci and her fraccion, who are surprisingly nice then they're not beating the crap out of you, came and told me that I didn't have to keep fighting, because since I had killed an Espada in fair combat, I could have his title, and with Aizen dead, there was nobody who outranked the Espada any more."

"So you're the king of Hueco Mundo, now?" Orihime asked. "That's so exciting! It's just like a fairy tale!"

"Not the king, really. One of ten bigshots there, who are all kind of co-rulers. Technically, I'm ranked number 7, and the ones ranked 1-6 have more power, but it's pretty informal. But I can tell any hollows besides those six or their fraccions what to do, and they have to obey, or I can beat them up."

"Isn't that exactly how it worked already, anyhow? Do what I say if you don't want to fight me?" Yoruichi suggested.

"Well, I guess, but more official now. And they set me up with a building in Las Noches to be my personal fortress, and gave me this bell I can ring when I need a garganta opened up to go back, at least until I learn to do that myself, and I can have people as fraccion."

"Fraccion?" Tatsuki asked.

"Yeah, they're like, an Espada's personal entourage, and they outrank everybody except the other Espada, and even Espada have to ask me first if they want to do something to my fraccion. It's big deal for them. That thief lady with the horned mask is Cirucci's fraccion, along with this skinny annoying guy. She's the one who made me these clothes. I think she and Cirucci are like, a thing."

"Soooooo..." Yoruichi smirked. "Sounds like fraccion means harem. Cirucci Sanderwicci and her collection of pretty little things. Sound like a good deal to you, Ichigo? Have you started thinking about who you want to ask to be in your fraccion yet?"

"Ooooh, Tatsuki, we should go call Chizuru! We could..."

"NO, Orihime. NO."

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Are...

...are you teaming up now?

How am I supposed to withstand the combined assaults of an @EarthScorpion and a @Phigment joining forces

25xp. Grossly unfair.

 

[Kinruush]

325 xp from that batch, total. How much unspent xp is floating around, now?

 

[Omicron]

325 xp from that batch, total. How much unspent xp is floating around, now?

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TOO MUCH

 

[Wind-Up Citrus]

TOO MUCH

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Espada Nemo make it happen

 

[thefoolswriter]

I think it's time everyone cashed in their exp

 

[NSMS]

This is word crimes. How are you not in jail? You monster. 25xp.

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I used to be, but then an oddly stylish moth broke me out and gestured something about 'needing the XPs' to me.

And drop the XP into Magical Arts and Crafts (Marana), please.

 

[racnor]

Skills:
Combat Arts: Champion (0/3200)
Sonido: Master (0/2400)
Hierro: Veteran (0/1600)
Cero: Veteran (0/1600)
Bala: Veteran (0/1600)
Reiatsu Control: Master (75/2400)
Reiatsu Perception: Veteran (0/1600)
Resurreccion: Legendary (-/-)

Advanced Skills
Dominio: Third Rain (0/2000)

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Cirruci, raising her control level? What heresy is this?

 

[EarthScorpion]

This is hilarious and an even better concept that Nemo reading her own character sheet. I want more of it. 25xp.

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Well, of course Luppi gets the 25XP. He'd do horrible things to me if he didn't.

He also wants to know if he's getting the 12.5 XP from the fact it's starring him in a major way.

This is the absolute most amazing. 25xp. "A newfound smug highland beyond the ken of mortal man," indeed.

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Of my own free will and completely uncoerced, that 25XP also goes to Luppi.

(Luppi is also looking for another 12.5 XP from it, and he says he supposes that Cirucci can have some if she really has to)

 

[Omicron]

Well, of course Luppi gets the 25XP. He'd do horrible things to me if he didn't.

He also wants to know if he's getting the 12.5 XP from the fact it's starring him in a major way.



Of my own free will and completely uncoerced, that 25XP also goes to Luppi.

(Luppi is also looking for another 12.5 XP from it, and he says he supposes that Cirucci can have some if she really has to)

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25xp omakes that feature an Ally give them a full 25xp because the moment I introduce fractional values in Number None is the moment I start looking for the nearest bridge to throw myself from and I am pretty far from any bridges.

 

[EarthScorpion]

25xp omakes that feature an Ally give them a full 25xp because the moment I introduce fractional values in Number None is the moment I start looking for the nearest bridge to throw myself from and I am pretty far from any bridges.

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Luppi is pleased at the way he has managed to acquire 100XP swag.

Thank you. This makes my life so much less tenuous.

 

[Yaga]

This is a really interesting idea, definitely. Kinda makes me miss all the character development I could have done for Aaroniero if you'd been his Fraccion

That said, having all the souls of Aaroniero as alive inside him, and him going around talking to them, is perhaps a bit off. 25xp.

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That's a fair cop. Put the XP in Marana.

 

[SolipsistSerpent]

Are......are you teaming up now?
How am I supposed to withstand the combined assaults of an @EarthScorpion and a @Phigment joining forces.

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I guess they learned from Orihime.

 

[racnor]

It's still pretty impressive. ES makes a couple of posts, and that's all it takes not only to direct a decent chunk of this round's omake exp towards luppi, but also to inspire other authors to follow up on his omakes. And this certainly isn't representative of general unity and organization, as shown by the ridiculous exp splitting.

It's almost like there's some kind effect promoting effective teamwork for those working alongside earthscorpion, while causing disorder for everyone else.

 

[exerty]

It's still pretty impressive. ES makes a couple of posts, and that's all it takes not only to direct a decent chunk of this round's omake exp towards luppi, but also to inspire other authors to follow up on his omakes. And this certainly isn't representative of general unity and organization, as shown by the ridiculous exp splitting.

It's almost like there's some kind effect promoting effective teamwork for those working alongside earthscorpion, while causing disorder for everyone else.

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I know its like magic!

 

[RandomNPC]

Okay, let's... Let's get to this.

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Well now, happy to contribute to... fleshing out Nemo's self-surgery attempts a bit.
A shame about the other two not being canon, but I honestly wasn't expecting them to get to be. Tousen needs more screen time before he could actually be that nice of a guy, for instance, and I just really wanted to see how well I could write Wonderweiss as adorable yet tragic in his scatterbrained state. ^^
So, as required, the 50 for the first one goes towards HSR as she's cutting herself up there without getting to do much studying.
Wonderweiss contributes his 25 towards Marana for helping Nemo make more wondrous items to help the arts of Las Noches. Oh, right, and the war effort too, but that's much less important.
And maybe that last one was Nemo dreaming of what she thought she might need someone to tell her to help out, even if it doesn't kick her into high gear. Every bit of imagined support for confronting her dark past helps motivation! So 25 towards Resurreccion there.

...Curses, I don't have anything that I could argue giving to Bala, or extra Marana. Oh well, have to fit the themes of my omakes.

 

[NSMS]

25xp omakes that feature an Ally give them a full 25xp because the moment I introduce fractional values in Number None is the moment I start looking for the nearest bridge to throw myself from and I am pretty far from any bridges.

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Does Cirucci pick up any XP from my omake?

 

[DB_Explorer]

Why do you do this to me

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We think panic moth noises are adorable!

/billy mays voice

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Bill Mays as an arranccar

its stuck in my head now

 

[Andres]

Question, what are the clothes we currently wear? I know we used to have the og uniform with a scarf/shawl way back in the beginning, but I've lost track of all the upgrades Nemo's made to her fashion sense.

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She wears a cloak in the style of the protagonist from Hollow Knight (Nemo is an expy of the character) made of black Gillian cloth over the standard arrancar uniform. Her sword is the same as the sword of the protagonist of Hollow Knight, but with three exceptions: first, it has no cracks; second, its tang is covered with leather wrappings; and third, it has a sheathe. Sometimes she wears boots and sometimes she wears nothing on her feet. Finally, in addition to her Maraña items, she wears ice blue lipstick.