- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- They/Them
It's not that bad... I'll admit I was conflicted on the heels but if Batgirl can wear 'em and fight, why not a super powered mutilated conglomeration of hungry ghosts?
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.
- Location
- Texas
Cirucci likes gothic. You don't get more gothic than Batman.
Bats. Gargoyles. Tall, heavily-ornamented buildings.
bird_poison
Knowing their wrath, unfettered and raw
- Location
- margarita
You forgot gotham city.
- Location
- Texas
Fight or Flight
——————————————
Things are not better in the morning.
You wake up first, as usual. You feel restless. There was a time, not so long ago, when those hours of roaming the cool sands would have been exhausting. You've grown stronger now, and it seems more a curse than a blessing. Your energy feels endless now; there is nothing to interrupt your brooding.
Cirucci would laugh. You doubt she can even remember a time when merely running would tire her out. She was at the top, and it ruined her. She can never be satisfied again.
With that dark thought, you relocate to your workroom. When the Diez appears from her chamber she finds the breakfast table already laid out with one place setting, and some biscuits, and a pot of slowly cooling tea. She has nothing to complain about.
———————————————
It is some hours later, when she appears at the door. You sense her presence, watching, but you do not stop your work. Your previous efforts relied on Alphonse's guidance, or on raw instinct and inspiration. This time, you have more. Every measurement must be precise, every cut exact. A great sheet of gillian-cloth is laid across your tabletop, and chalk lines criss-cross it.
"Is this how it will be, then?" Cirucci finally breaks the silence. "Every time we disagree about something, you go to sulk in your sewing chamber?"
You don't know, frankly. You've never had a sewing chamber to sulk in, before. But if the Diez needs something, she has but to order it, and you will be at it directly. You'll do an exemplary job. It's how weak people act, after all. How you always survived as a numero, avoiding confrontation and danger.
The Diez doesn't answer.
————————————————
Later, she returns. Probably because she sensed the energy release. Even a small Cero is not subtle. She probably didn't even know you could do this, actually. As far as you are aware, no one else has ever tried. The point of cero, after all, is to be large and destructive. Larger beam. More energy. But you have improved your control, and you had an idea…
A sustained beam of power, finer than a hair, hotter than a bonfire, burns from the space between your mask's horns. In raw power, it is nothing special; any numero could doubtless match it. But very few could gather it, and hold it, and squeeze it out in a fine stream the way you are now. Cirucci couldn't, you're sure. A month ago, you couldn't have. It's almost a party trick; certainly no use as a weapon. But as a tool…
"Is that one of my feathers?" she asks. "I recognize it. Where did you get that?"
You pause briefly, and step back away from the smell of burning metal. Yes, it's a feather-blade. It was damaged in the fight against Yammy. You recovered it, preserved it.
"You're angry at me, so you find something of mine and destroy it?"
She wouldn't understand. But it's no concern of hers now. She abandoned it on that battlefield. If she cares so much, she shouldn't just leave her things laying around, should she? You resume carefully slicing it into triangles.
"Humph."
————————————————
The stitching is more than half finished when the next interruption arrives. Not the Princess this time. With a sardonic voice, she directs him in to your chamber.
"Nemo has been in there for god know how long, but you're welcome to try."
Alphonse steps in, and stops just past the threshold.
"Nemo! I can't find one of my awls, do you remember…"
He trails off, as he finally notices the tension in the air. He watches quietly for a moment or two, glances over his shoulder at Cirucci, and decides discretion is the better part of valor.
"I'll come back later."
————————————————
When you finally leave your workroom, you cannot clearly say how long it has been. It feels like morning, but which morning? Ren is watching from his narrow balcony. A slow rumble of thunder is his signal to beat a hasty retreat.
The very air crackles and sparks as Cirucci comes into view. There is tremendous air of menace, compressed and distilled into the frame of a woman. It reminds you of nothing so much as Yammy's last hours, the giant longing to burst from his confining skin.
"Are you quite finished, now?" she asks icily.
Not quite, actually. You still need to test it. It shouldn't take long.
"Test your little coat of armor? I suppose we should, at that. Well, then. Just stand still, and we'll see how well it holds up. I hope I don't hit you too hard. But you heal quickly, so I'm sure it'll be fine if I slip a little."
Ok, she's angry. And you expected that. Sort of. You're still pretty upset, too. But no, you don't need her to hit you. That's not the test you mean. It's not armor. The scales are too delicate to for that. They're not supposed to absorb blows.
"Really. What then, did I donate a feather for? Just so your cloak would be shiny?"
Cirucci's curiosity is piqued, at least. That's good, especially because it delays her doing anything out of anger.
You adjust the straps on your cloak, and flex your reiatsu. The scales quiver and hum, vibrating against the lining. They're not armor. Each scale is roughly triangular, precisely cut and engraved to channel spirit energy. Wide at the base, and tapering to a sharp point; any reiatsu applied to the base is collected and funneled to the point, where it is concentrated and thrown off. Because of the difference in size, it has be emitted at much higher… Actually, it's easier to just show it.
You carefully center yourself in the Red Chamber, and prepare for the first test. With a gentle, calculated push of spiritual pressure, the cloak springs into its true shape, splitting down the back and springing wide at the shoulders.
With a second, firmer push, you awaken the scales. A thousand triangles begin gathering energy, focusing it, and ejecting it, as planned. A thousand tiny rockets ignite and begin thrusting against the pitiless grasp of gravity. You accelerate towards the false sky of Las Noches.
Missing the edge of the Red Chamber by scant feet, you burst into the light of eternal day, and attempt to level off. Steering is harder than you expected; the principle is sound, but choosing which scales to strengthen and which to weaken as you hurtle through the air is complicated. A course correction becomes a dive, and pulling out of the dive rapidly approaches being a loop, and exiting the loop cleanly turns into a frantic barrel roll.
This is not at all like flying was, with your own wings, before you broke your mask. As an adjuchas, you fluttered. You danced through the air effortlessly, carelessly, as easily as walking. This…you swoop, you bank, you careen. It is terrifying and exhilarating. It is not the same at all, but it is flight. You imagine this is how Cirucci feels, barreling through the sky like a bird of prey. Never stopping, always pushing forward through pure power, because to stop moving forward is to fall. It scares you. It is glorious.
It is only minutes later that you swing around towards the Red Chamber. Cirucci is standing on top of it now, quietly watching. Landing seems likely to be a problem, but as you approach, you stop pushing reishi into the scales, and she reaches out an arm to catch you, and swing you around to stand safely on the wall.
"So, I suppose the test was a success," she finally says.
You think it was.
"I don't like like being ignored. I REALLY don't like being ignored for days."
You know. You weren't pleased about that, but, well, you needed this. You had to do it. You couldn't just stop.
She contemplates for a moment.
"My plans haven't changed. And I am still very, very angry."
She raises Golondrina toward the sun.
"Now let's go flying."
——————————————
Things are not better in the morning.
You wake up first, as usual. You feel restless. There was a time, not so long ago, when those hours of roaming the cool sands would have been exhausting. You've grown stronger now, and it seems more a curse than a blessing. Your energy feels endless now; there is nothing to interrupt your brooding.
Cirucci would laugh. You doubt she can even remember a time when merely running would tire her out. She was at the top, and it ruined her. She can never be satisfied again.
With that dark thought, you relocate to your workroom. When the Diez appears from her chamber she finds the breakfast table already laid out with one place setting, and some biscuits, and a pot of slowly cooling tea. She has nothing to complain about.
———————————————
It is some hours later, when she appears at the door. You sense her presence, watching, but you do not stop your work. Your previous efforts relied on Alphonse's guidance, or on raw instinct and inspiration. This time, you have more. Every measurement must be precise, every cut exact. A great sheet of gillian-cloth is laid across your tabletop, and chalk lines criss-cross it.
"Is this how it will be, then?" Cirucci finally breaks the silence. "Every time we disagree about something, you go to sulk in your sewing chamber?"
You don't know, frankly. You've never had a sewing chamber to sulk in, before. But if the Diez needs something, she has but to order it, and you will be at it directly. You'll do an exemplary job. It's how weak people act, after all. How you always survived as a numero, avoiding confrontation and danger.
The Diez doesn't answer.
————————————————
Later, she returns. Probably because she sensed the energy release. Even a small Cero is not subtle. She probably didn't even know you could do this, actually. As far as you are aware, no one else has ever tried. The point of cero, after all, is to be large and destructive. Larger beam. More energy. But you have improved your control, and you had an idea…
A sustained beam of power, finer than a hair, hotter than a bonfire, burns from the space between your mask's horns. In raw power, it is nothing special; any numero could doubtless match it. But very few could gather it, and hold it, and squeeze it out in a fine stream the way you are now. Cirucci couldn't, you're sure. A month ago, you couldn't have. It's almost a party trick; certainly no use as a weapon. But as a tool…
"Is that one of my feathers?" she asks. "I recognize it. Where did you get that?"
You pause briefly, and step back away from the smell of burning metal. Yes, it's a feather-blade. It was damaged in the fight against Yammy. You recovered it, preserved it.
"You're angry at me, so you find something of mine and destroy it?"
She wouldn't understand. But it's no concern of hers now. She abandoned it on that battlefield. If she cares so much, she shouldn't just leave her things laying around, should she? You resume carefully slicing it into triangles.
"Humph."
————————————————
The stitching is more than half finished when the next interruption arrives. Not the Princess this time. With a sardonic voice, she directs him in to your chamber.
"Nemo has been in there for god know how long, but you're welcome to try."
Alphonse steps in, and stops just past the threshold.
"Nemo! I can't find one of my awls, do you remember…"
He trails off, as he finally notices the tension in the air. He watches quietly for a moment or two, glances over his shoulder at Cirucci, and decides discretion is the better part of valor.
"I'll come back later."
————————————————
When you finally leave your workroom, you cannot clearly say how long it has been. It feels like morning, but which morning? Ren is watching from his narrow balcony. A slow rumble of thunder is his signal to beat a hasty retreat.
The very air crackles and sparks as Cirucci comes into view. There is tremendous air of menace, compressed and distilled into the frame of a woman. It reminds you of nothing so much as Yammy's last hours, the giant longing to burst from his confining skin.
"Are you quite finished, now?" she asks icily.
Not quite, actually. You still need to test it. It shouldn't take long.
"Test your little coat of armor? I suppose we should, at that. Well, then. Just stand still, and we'll see how well it holds up. I hope I don't hit you too hard. But you heal quickly, so I'm sure it'll be fine if I slip a little."
Ok, she's angry. And you expected that. Sort of. You're still pretty upset, too. But no, you don't need her to hit you. That's not the test you mean. It's not armor. The scales are too delicate to for that. They're not supposed to absorb blows.
"Really. What then, did I donate a feather for? Just so your cloak would be shiny?"
Cirucci's curiosity is piqued, at least. That's good, especially because it delays her doing anything out of anger.
You adjust the straps on your cloak, and flex your reiatsu. The scales quiver and hum, vibrating against the lining. They're not armor. Each scale is roughly triangular, precisely cut and engraved to channel spirit energy. Wide at the base, and tapering to a sharp point; any reiatsu applied to the base is collected and funneled to the point, where it is concentrated and thrown off. Because of the difference in size, it has be emitted at much higher… Actually, it's easier to just show it.
You carefully center yourself in the Red Chamber, and prepare for the first test. With a gentle, calculated push of spiritual pressure, the cloak springs into its true shape, splitting down the back and springing wide at the shoulders.
With a second, firmer push, you awaken the scales. A thousand triangles begin gathering energy, focusing it, and ejecting it, as planned. A thousand tiny rockets ignite and begin thrusting against the pitiless grasp of gravity. You accelerate towards the false sky of Las Noches.
Missing the edge of the Red Chamber by scant feet, you burst into the light of eternal day, and attempt to level off. Steering is harder than you expected; the principle is sound, but choosing which scales to strengthen and which to weaken as you hurtle through the air is complicated. A course correction becomes a dive, and pulling out of the dive rapidly approaches being a loop, and exiting the loop cleanly turns into a frantic barrel roll.
This is not at all like flying was, with your own wings, before you broke your mask. As an adjuchas, you fluttered. You danced through the air effortlessly, carelessly, as easily as walking. This…you swoop, you bank, you careen. It is terrifying and exhilarating. It is not the same at all, but it is flight. You imagine this is how Cirucci feels, barreling through the sky like a bird of prey. Never stopping, always pushing forward through pure power, because to stop moving forward is to fall. It scares you. It is glorious.
It is only minutes later that you swing around towards the Red Chamber. Cirucci is standing on top of it now, quietly watching. Landing seems likely to be a problem, but as you approach, you stop pushing reishi into the scales, and she reaches out an arm to catch you, and swing you around to stand safely on the wall.
"So, I suppose the test was a success," she finally says.
You think it was.
"I don't like like being ignored. I REALLY don't like being ignored for days."
You know. You weren't pleased about that, but, well, you needed this. You had to do it. You couldn't just stop.
She contemplates for a moment.
"My plans haven't changed. And I am still very, very angry."
She raises Golondrina toward the sun.
"Now let's go flying."
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
This... Is great. Have 50xp. Can't be canon because I wouldn't make flight so easy to get
- Location
- Texas
This... Is great. Have 50xp. Can't be canon because I wouldn't make flight so easy to get
So much for my cunning plan to make our next Marana item a flying cloak.
Drop the XP in Style, please.
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
Considering that our first possible upgrade for Ressurrecion was the ability to glide, which could later on be upgraded to proper flight, I imagine that something similar is going on with Marana.
Clearly this is a sign that we need to obtain Third Weave sooner rather than later.
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
See, once Nemo gets wings, it doesn't matter if she falls. She can just fly up again!
- Location
- Canada
In all honesty, I'm not too enthused with getting Champion Style.
Master I feel hits the sweet spot. Just enough to help Nemo in her role as a Fraccion, but not enough that it starts making her too stylish. Cirucci herself has only Master Style and Nemo having more Style than her Espada feels...wrong. Not to mention Byakuya himself has Champion Style and having an Arrancar be more Stylish than a scion of an ancient, noble ghost house feels silly.
Basically, I get the same feeling about Champion Style as I get when I see people try to get one of Nemo's skills to Legendary (the domain of the Vasto Lordes).
(I believe Cirucci and Byakuya with Master and Champion Style respectively is accurate, but someone may correct me).
Master I feel hits the sweet spot. Just enough to help Nemo in her role as a Fraccion, but not enough that it starts making her too stylish. Cirucci herself has only Master Style and Nemo having more Style than her Espada feels...wrong. Not to mention Byakuya himself has Champion Style and having an Arrancar be more Stylish than a scion of an ancient, noble ghost house feels silly.
Basically, I get the same feeling about Champion Style as I get when I see people try to get one of Nemo's skills to Legendary (the domain of the Vasto Lordes).
(I believe Cirucci and Byakuya with Master and Champion Style respectively is accurate, but someone may correct me).
chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
Most other skills are a matter of power. Style is a matter of grace, of charisma. It lets us get away with things like in fairy tales because we're just that pleasant to be... around.
Wait. Byakuya has champion style. Does that mean that he's even nicer to be around than us? @Omicron, confirm?
In any case, Style is honestly the only skill on the standard skill progression tree that it makes sense for us to even have a chance of taking to Legendary. You can't brute force it, Vasto Lordes don't get a bonus to being fancy, and even if they did they wouldn't bother with it.
- Location
- Canada
I dunno, higher levels of Style still feels like an "overpowerment". It makes Nemo out to be this hyper-competent, unflappable butler, an Arrancar version of Alfred. But hey, maybe that's just me.
And I vaguely remember it being mentioned that Byakyua having Champion Style awhile back, but I'm too lazy to check. In any case, I doubt he's nicer to be around than us, because Style probably manifests itself differently in him. Just like how Cirucci's version of Style would deal less with being a good servant and more with being a good master, Byakyua would have his own variant focused on nobility.
I have a question @Omicron at higher levels does medicine combine well with style and combat arts? Cause I was thinking with advance knowledge of the body nemo at least have a higher chance at disabling her enemies and hitting weak spots. She may be weak but she's skilled and no one fucks with a combat medic.
Last edited by a moderator:
chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
Medicine plus Marana seems like a good way to get some Syazal stuff going on.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Pooossibly? In theory with enough Medicine it should be possible to pull off tricks like "sever the soul chain" which shows up a couple times in the manga, but in practice it's really hard for someone like Nemo to pull it off in the heat of battle. Medicine is a cold skill of the rational mind, careful and precise. It might enable some cool finishing move at one point or another, but you shouldn't consider it an overall combat boost.
ChildishChimera
A umbran summon
- Location
- New York
No I feel like instead of Marana he has a science stat that let's you break more and more laws of nature as you advance
I was thinking more pressure point strikes I wouldn't think we could pull that other thing off unless we were hella faster than our enemy or eclipsed them in a lot of skills.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"Pressure point strikes" is, like, something I would offer as a special Veteran Combat Arts perk obtained by having high Medicine on a character who was focusing on unarmed combat. It's not really a thing Nemo would develop because it doesn't match her fighting style.
Gotcha so because of her fighting style would you say nemo might start adding poisons to Polilla with more level ups to medicine? Since she's not one for prolonged close combat and it might come a long way in fighting enemies who take a prolonged battle to defeat.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
TACTICAL NUCLEAR SURGERY
Sinsystems
Patron Librarian
Personally I wonder if we can't use Marana to make one use consumable items, like could we mix it with medicine to make sleeping gas bombs?
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
I am not entirely sure "consumeable clothing" will ever be in vogue outside of eroge.
Sinsystems
Patron Librarian
True although something like a ball of fabric that latches onto someone and puts them in a strait jacket might be useful.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There's been at least one single-use Marana item on offer before, so possibly. They aren't very popular for obvious reason: they only work once and you can't mass-produce them like Potions of Healing in an RPG.