- Location
- Nebraska
But how though we can't get to the living world our self?This is absolutely forbidden, nobody really cares, and in fact you've done it before
Now You Feel Like Number None [Bleach Arrancar Quest]
- Thread starter Omicron
- Start date
- Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
I think that ws just for opening a garganta into the nonpurgatory afterlife.Hell even if Nemo can't open a garganta into the living world on her own she can always ride a normal hollow to go there.
chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
We can. Normal hollows can. Everybody can, in fact. It's getting to other people's dimensions that's hard.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Any common Gillian can open a gate to the living world, and so can you. It's a slower and less precise process than an Espada's Garganta, but it still works.
- Location
- Malaysia
He might just throw it away, or most likely absorbed it into himself during the transformation. He did picked up Suzumushi from a dead woman whom he admired, so he won't be throwing her former zanpakuto like yesterday's garbage.
[X] Hurry up to the gate
[X] Indifferent
[X] You did serve Barragan once
Amphidsf
The Quipster
- Location
- Golden
What if we bring back Yamamotos head. Would we still get killed then?
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Is that a thing you believe is going to happen?
[X] Hurry back to the gate, where if you're quick enough you can catch the spider-hollow before it gets too far. Riding it, you'll get to your destination much faster (and hopefully back faster as well).
[X] Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X] You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
[X] Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X] You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
[X]Make a detour by Esmeralda's "office" before setting out. She always has her hands on some interesting supplies, and could provide you with useful items for your trip.
[X]Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X]You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
[X]Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X]You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I am closing the vote in two hours.
- Location
- Canada
[X] Hurry back to the gate, where if you're quick enough you can catch the spider-hollow before it gets too far. Riding it, you'll get to your destination much faster (and hopefully back faster as well).
[X] Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X] You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
[X] Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X] You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
- Location
- Denmark
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Hurry back to the gate, where if you're quick enough you can catch the spider-hollow before it gets too far. Riding it, you'll get to your destination much faster (and hopefully back faster as well).
- [x] Give him some proper curtains to keep the sand out. Sand in one's hole is not comfortable.
[x] Write-In: Like A Moth To A Flame: Aizen's gift and Aizen's rule freed you from emptiness, and for that you are bound to him, but you are well aware of what happens to those who get too close and cannot withstand the heat. Your service to him is the tension between need and fear.
[x]You did in fact serve under Barragan. For years you were a scout in his army. You left because you feared the devotion of the others. You never expected him to think well of you, but he doesn't even remember your name or your mask, and that stings.
@NonSequtur's writeup is cool.
I am voting for that, for it interests me.
- [x] Give him some proper curtains to keep the sand out. Sand in one's hole is not comfortable.
[x] Write-In: Like A Moth To A Flame: Aizen's gift and Aizen's rule freed you from emptiness, and for that you are bound to him, but you are well aware of what happens to those who get too close and cannot withstand the heat. Your service to him is the tension between need and fear.
[x]You did in fact serve under Barragan. For years you were a scout in his army. You left because you feared the devotion of the others. You never expected him to think well of you, but he doesn't even remember your name or your mask, and that stings.
@NonSequtur's writeup is cool.
I am voting for that, for it interests me.
- Location
- Nebraska
Question of power here but if we fought Momo (that girl Aizen keeps somehow making get stabbed in the chest) without our transformation would we win?
- Location
- Nebraska
also I change my vote to
[x] Like A Moth To A Flame
[x] Like A Moth To A Flame
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I don't like giving such simple answers. It depends on circumstances, tactics, and how your skillsets interact with each other. And by "tactics" I of course mean "player votes."
I can tell you that the fight between the two waif-ish, incredibly squishy ranged fighters whom everyone in their respective faction thinks are weaklings would be hilarious, though.
notthepenguins
Neither Spherical Nor Frictionless
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
No. Momo with no preptime nukes Halibel's whole Fraccione with Kido and almost ends the fight right there. She's a valid shinigami lieutenant, and we are not at that level.
- Location
- Nebraska
Okay thanks for the answer, I have another question though how long does the whole transform into a shadow thing take I ask because we don't want to be a sitting duck while doing it.
- Location
- Unknown
Advice taken,changes made. Would you believe I came up with the release phrase before coming up with the whole tone shift thing. Anyway does anyone feel like critiquing my OC, this is my first time submitting one. I'd especially like some analysis from @Omicron as to whether or not what I've submitted is detailed enough to be acceptable (and what I can do to make it work if it's not).
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Aaand calling it. Spider-taxi/Indifferent/Lost friend win.
So, sorry. This isn't a shot at the quality of your submission but I'm going to rescind the OC thing.
Honestly I've thought this further and my offer to include OC was an error. There are enough powerful Arrancars around, and when you include Fraccions their cast is pretty large. In theory it's small for an army supposed to tackle Soul Society, but in practice it's already more than I can actually easily fit in my update.
So, sorry. This isn't a shot at the quality of your submission but I'm going to rescind the OC thing.
Pandemonious Ivy
Panties, Revolution. Big Drawers. Parachute.
[X]Make a detour by Esmeralda's "office" before setting out. She always has her hands on some interesting supplies, and could provide you with useful items for your trip.
[X]Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X]You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
As head of the Plan Plane division, I support this message.
E: rip my vote
[X]Indifferent. The powerful of this world are akin to passing storms than persons. Whoever rules, rules, and small fries like you simply have to try and make a living under them. The personal character of different rulers do not make them better or worse, but simply different flavors of hurricanes.
[X]You had a friend once, a rarity among Menos. Someone you trusted not to try and eat you and who returned that trust. Then one day, he crossed the wrong line. He offended Barragan somehow, and you saw him aged to dust before your eyes.
As head of the Plan Plane division, I support this message.
E: rip my vote
Canon Omake: friend spider
- Location
- Australia
Okay, since the vote is over and my favoured vote won, here's an omake. (Credit given to @NonSequtur for helping me edit this thing; it wouldn't flow as well as it does without his help.)
You catch the spider-hollow still near the walls of Barragan's hall. Good- you had worried, for a moment, that the spider had travelled too far, and you would not be able to catch up. It is hard for two legs to match the speed of eleven… or fourteen- it is hard for two legs to match a multitude.
It looks up at you from where it had stopped, atop the remains of a Hollow. Your pace slows for a moment as you sense something from it- hunger, a ravenous hunger- but it's swallowed in an instant, and it acknowledges you with a hearty, "Hello!"
You acknowledge the greeting with one of your own. Then you look down at the corpse beneath it. A fresh meal?
"Indeed." It smiles as pleasantly as a spider can. "Are you hungry?"
No. The denial is instant. You are not hungry, but you are thankful for the offer. You have not eaten in some time, and you can feel the faint stirrings of hunger in your gut, but you decline to share that with the spider; and besides, it is not a hunger that can compel you, now.
It dips its head in acknowledgement of your thanks anyway. "So why have you sought me out again, little hollow?"
You need a ride again. You have a long distance to walk, and you're not sure how long it will take.
"And why should I let you?" It folds its legs in four places so it can bring itself closer to your height. The smell of Hollow-flesh flows over you as it talks, stirring the faint flames of hunger in your stomach until you fight them down once again.
You can help it. You cast around desperately for a moment, thinking. Then you see the sand still sliding from its back. You- You have cloth! A shawl, to keep it clear of sand! Your curtains, of course, but you do not tell it that either.
"A question, pray tell," the spider asks, eight eyes focusing on you at once, deathly serious. "What use have I for a shawl to cover me from the sand, when it is known that I live beneath the sand?"
You pause. It is a good question, you admit with a wry twist to your mouth. You are not a clever girl.
The spider chitters gleefully, and you realize you've been had. "Still, my thanks for the thought! Keep your shawl, young girl. I ask for nothing but conversation to pass the time, and that you not eat me when we reach our journey's end."
A fair trade. You have no desire to eat it, anyway. It is friendly and it talks well. You pull yourself up on the spider's back, settling once again into one of the uncomfortable almost-seats in its abdomen.
There is a pause, and then the spider chitters once more, its voice echoing within its cavernous interior. "Many powers I have, but mind-reading is not amongst them! You must tell me where you wish to go if you wish us to arrive within the century, my girl!"
Nemo. Your name is Nemo.
"Nemo, then. Still, you must tell me which direction we travel in, unless you wish me to walk as I will and simply hope we arrive at your destination!"
Fair. You lean out of the carriage and provide him with the directions Barragan gave you earlier.
It gives you moments to settle in and find your position before it begins to speak again. "I must say, I had not expected such a place of power when I offered to bear you to your destination. Such power you hide behind that mask of yours, little one!"
You snort mirthlessly. It is not your power; it is that of Barragan. The words are short in your mouth, almost resentful.
"Alas, then," it replies, although no regret lies within its tone. "Perhaps one day you, too, shall command such power!" It chitters again, pleased with the idea, or perhaps amused by it.
Perhaps. Such power is not for you to aspire to. Power such as that, power wielded effortlessly, to crush any and all that stand in your path, like Barragan and his ilk- hunger rises in your heart at the thought, even as revulsion worms in your stomach. The power to crush any in your way, deserving or undeserving.
It is in the nature of a Hollow to seek power. Perhaps you may achieve that power, one day. Perhaps not.
"If that is what you hunger for, you just might," your spider-friend says in turn, as its long legs carry you with ease through the shifting grains of Hueco Mundo.
Omake: friend spider
You catch the spider-hollow still near the walls of Barragan's hall. Good- you had worried, for a moment, that the spider had travelled too far, and you would not be able to catch up. It is hard for two legs to match the speed of eleven… or fourteen- it is hard for two legs to match a multitude.
It looks up at you from where it had stopped, atop the remains of a Hollow. Your pace slows for a moment as you sense something from it- hunger, a ravenous hunger- but it's swallowed in an instant, and it acknowledges you with a hearty, "Hello!"
You acknowledge the greeting with one of your own. Then you look down at the corpse beneath it. A fresh meal?
"Indeed." It smiles as pleasantly as a spider can. "Are you hungry?"
No. The denial is instant. You are not hungry, but you are thankful for the offer. You have not eaten in some time, and you can feel the faint stirrings of hunger in your gut, but you decline to share that with the spider; and besides, it is not a hunger that can compel you, now.
It dips its head in acknowledgement of your thanks anyway. "So why have you sought me out again, little hollow?"
You need a ride again. You have a long distance to walk, and you're not sure how long it will take.
"And why should I let you?" It folds its legs in four places so it can bring itself closer to your height. The smell of Hollow-flesh flows over you as it talks, stirring the faint flames of hunger in your stomach until you fight them down once again.
You can help it. You cast around desperately for a moment, thinking. Then you see the sand still sliding from its back. You- You have cloth! A shawl, to keep it clear of sand! Your curtains, of course, but you do not tell it that either.
"A question, pray tell," the spider asks, eight eyes focusing on you at once, deathly serious. "What use have I for a shawl to cover me from the sand, when it is known that I live beneath the sand?"
You pause. It is a good question, you admit with a wry twist to your mouth. You are not a clever girl.
The spider chitters gleefully, and you realize you've been had. "Still, my thanks for the thought! Keep your shawl, young girl. I ask for nothing but conversation to pass the time, and that you not eat me when we reach our journey's end."
A fair trade. You have no desire to eat it, anyway. It is friendly and it talks well. You pull yourself up on the spider's back, settling once again into one of the uncomfortable almost-seats in its abdomen.
There is a pause, and then the spider chitters once more, its voice echoing within its cavernous interior. "Many powers I have, but mind-reading is not amongst them! You must tell me where you wish to go if you wish us to arrive within the century, my girl!"
Nemo. Your name is Nemo.
"Nemo, then. Still, you must tell me which direction we travel in, unless you wish me to walk as I will and simply hope we arrive at your destination!"
Fair. You lean out of the carriage and provide him with the directions Barragan gave you earlier.
It gives you moments to settle in and find your position before it begins to speak again. "I must say, I had not expected such a place of power when I offered to bear you to your destination. Such power you hide behind that mask of yours, little one!"
You snort mirthlessly. It is not your power; it is that of Barragan. The words are short in your mouth, almost resentful.
"Alas, then," it replies, although no regret lies within its tone. "Perhaps one day you, too, shall command such power!" It chitters again, pleased with the idea, or perhaps amused by it.
Perhaps. Such power is not for you to aspire to. Power such as that, power wielded effortlessly, to crush any and all that stand in your path, like Barragan and his ilk- hunger rises in your heart at the thought, even as revulsion worms in your stomach. The power to crush any in your way, deserving or undeserving.
It is in the nature of a Hollow to seek power. Perhaps you may achieve that power, one day. Perhaps not.
"If that is what you hunger for, you just might," your spider-friend says in turn, as its long legs carry you with ease through the shifting grains of Hueco Mundo.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
And I'm even provided with a transition scene before setting to write the next update. Fantastic.
Spider-taxi is now the most featured non-main character in this Quest
Have 100xp and a canon tag.
Chapter 0 (Pre-Canon), Canon Omake: Distraction
NonSequtur
a body
Distraction
You were perched up in the spindly branches of one of Hueco Mundo's strangest features - the subterranean forest. Hunger gnawed at you, as it always did, and your fear of dissolution sharpened it into a potent goad. This made your finding this place fortunate; forests were often full of the tall, mindless hollows.
Speak of the devil. One had appeared, ambling mindlessly through the vast rocky trunks below, mouth open and nose sniffing the air. It hadn't seemed to have noticed you.
You blasted it with a dusky Cero that took the form of a screaming soul, and then flitted to another tree before the smoke cleared. With luck, it had been crippled or mortally wounded, and you could eat it at your leisure. But you're generally not that lucky. If it turned into a fight, at least it couldn't simply aim for where you had been.
You tensed as a tall shape burst through the smoke and- was it running?
It was. Your meal was running away, honking in distress.
You stared for a moment, then gave chase, dashing from trunk to trunk, trying to get a clear shot on the stupid, stupid- !!!
It was luck, more than anything, that saved your life in that moment. Your immaterial flitting certainly hadn't been deliberately timed for when the mess of spikes and threads collapsed upon the space between the trees, turning your target into mincemeat.
You stayed perfectly still and tried to blend into the deep shadows of the subterrain and calm yourself. You had been... very close to being diced yourself, you realize.
"That was amazing!" called a voice from behind you.
From behind you.
You turned around slowly, ready blast at the slightest hint of danger. There, on the ground, stood a small, white hollow which resembled a mantis, if mantises were covered in spikes. Were they? You weren't sure.
It was still staring at you. It didn't... look dangerous.
A chunk of meat slides down your tree.
"Most people don't survive that," it added, as if that would be a comfort to you. "Do you, uh, want to split it?"
Split it? You were suspicious and hungry in equal measure.
It - he? - began to stammer, claws fiddling at nothing. "I mean, you did half of the work, right? I can't really, uh, most of the time, that is to say-"
His stomach growled.
"I can't exactly make anything go into my traps, right? It's a lot of waiting."
And?
"And, I was wondering if you might help me with that? Bait- or herd, whatever, maybe you don't want to be bait - the tall ones into traps, and we can split the meal," he ended hopefully.
You would like to say you considered the matter thoughtfully, but you were hungry. You'd accept any offer that promised more meals than simply hunting yourself.
"Huh? You will?" he perked up. "That's great!"
An awkward pause.
He coughed, gesturing vaguely at the mass of hollow-meat. "So uh, you first? Friend?"
You were already eating.
And so it went, for quite a while. Two hollows, hunting in the forests hidden beneath the sands. One to set the trap, and the other to bait it. The mantis proved to have a rare passion, for a hollow, and would invent ever more elaborate trap sequences for you to lead the menos into. It was dangerous, pointless work, flitting through mazes of collapsing wires and hurled darts when a basic tripwire and noose would do, but you indulged him. It broke the monotony, at least.
But tools and traps could be tracked. Could be used to hunt a poacher down, even if the hunting grounds had never been marked as property. Could be shrugged off by a Hollow of sufficient power and boredom, who would take such an intense interest in such a petty crime, to chase the criminal across the endless sands and subterrains, far beyond the pillars of his palace. Could be used as evidence in a pageantry of a trial, and tossed on to a grave after an execution.
Hollows don't age, truly. But they can starve, go mad, and eat themselves when a thousand years pass in the blink of an eye. Breaking your mask freed you from those waking fears, if not their dreaming echoes.
Speak of the devil. One had appeared, ambling mindlessly through the vast rocky trunks below, mouth open and nose sniffing the air. It hadn't seemed to have noticed you.
You blasted it with a dusky Cero that took the form of a screaming soul, and then flitted to another tree before the smoke cleared. With luck, it had been crippled or mortally wounded, and you could eat it at your leisure. But you're generally not that lucky. If it turned into a fight, at least it couldn't simply aim for where you had been.
You tensed as a tall shape burst through the smoke and- was it running?
It was. Your meal was running away, honking in distress.
You stared for a moment, then gave chase, dashing from trunk to trunk, trying to get a clear shot on the stupid, stupid- !!!
It was luck, more than anything, that saved your life in that moment. Your immaterial flitting certainly hadn't been deliberately timed for when the mess of spikes and threads collapsed upon the space between the trees, turning your target into mincemeat.
You stayed perfectly still and tried to blend into the deep shadows of the subterrain and calm yourself. You had been... very close to being diced yourself, you realize.
"That was amazing!" called a voice from behind you.
From behind you.
You turned around slowly, ready blast at the slightest hint of danger. There, on the ground, stood a small, white hollow which resembled a mantis, if mantises were covered in spikes. Were they? You weren't sure.
It was still staring at you. It didn't... look dangerous.
A chunk of meat slides down your tree.
"Most people don't survive that," it added, as if that would be a comfort to you. "Do you, uh, want to split it?"
Split it? You were suspicious and hungry in equal measure.
It - he? - began to stammer, claws fiddling at nothing. "I mean, you did half of the work, right? I can't really, uh, most of the time, that is to say-"
His stomach growled.
"I can't exactly make anything go into my traps, right? It's a lot of waiting."
And?
"And, I was wondering if you might help me with that? Bait- or herd, whatever, maybe you don't want to be bait - the tall ones into traps, and we can split the meal," he ended hopefully.
You would like to say you considered the matter thoughtfully, but you were hungry. You'd accept any offer that promised more meals than simply hunting yourself.
"Huh? You will?" he perked up. "That's great!"
An awkward pause.
He coughed, gesturing vaguely at the mass of hollow-meat. "So uh, you first? Friend?"
You were already eating.
And so it went, for quite a while. Two hollows, hunting in the forests hidden beneath the sands. One to set the trap, and the other to bait it. The mantis proved to have a rare passion, for a hollow, and would invent ever more elaborate trap sequences for you to lead the menos into. It was dangerous, pointless work, flitting through mazes of collapsing wires and hurled darts when a basic tripwire and noose would do, but you indulged him. It broke the monotony, at least.
But tools and traps could be tracked. Could be used to hunt a poacher down, even if the hunting grounds had never been marked as property. Could be shrugged off by a Hollow of sufficient power and boredom, who would take such an intense interest in such a petty crime, to chase the criminal across the endless sands and subterrains, far beyond the pillars of his palace. Could be used as evidence in a pageantry of a trial, and tossed on to a grave after an execution.
Hollows don't age, truly. But they can starve, go mad, and eat themselves when a thousand years pass in the blink of an eye. Breaking your mask freed you from those waking fears, if not their dreaming echoes.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Hmmm, yes. Mantis friend. A clever Hollow, a tragic loss. Have your 100xp and canon tag too.
I'm working under the assumption that the "quite a while" of hunting and snaring in the forest was a pretty extended period of time and involved various other activities besides, just so I can throw in heart-punching flashbacks every now and then