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Mumen Writer

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Mumen Writer last won the day on January 20

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About Mumen Writer

  • Birthday 04/21/1998

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  • Gender
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    negative zone
  • Interests
    ART! particularly visual and literary art.
    manga, animation and other weeb stuff.
  • RPG Profile
    name: Hizorashi Masato
    gender: male

    race: Human(Fullbringer)
    class: Tank - Brute

    reiatsu: 84k
    strength / reiryoku: 125/50
    ND: 6720

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  1. Mumen Writer

    Battle Of The Degenerates

    On the night he failed his first attempt at catching a certain infamous hollow, Masato’s last objective before getting rest was relocating his target for the morrow. He had spoken to Arthur with great confidence in his subordinate Shizuka, and her capabilities in intel gathering. However useful and crucial as she was to his company’s operations, Masato disliked her the most. His horrible first impression of her made him reluctant to ever seek her help. But it was her help that brought him closer to the Quarterer. In order to fulfil his goal, he would somehow need to keep her employed, tolerate her perversions, and occasionally ass kiss. On this very night, the ass kissing wasn’t necessary as Shizuka wanted the parasite Hollow exterminated even more so than Azami. With heavy strides and an expression twisted with frustration, Masato reluctantly found himself on the rooftop of Karakura High School. The chilling breezes of the winter night whistled on as he stood stationary in front of the door between himself and the school's highest staircase. He contemplated his decision and for a brief moment, almost quit his mission. But his promise to Arthur and the potentially negative consequences of letting the wrong Hollow live compelled Masato to proceed. Showing his utmost restraint, Masato quickly flicked the locked metal door open, breaking only the lock and handle in the process. He took his time and cursed his own fate while making his way to the female student’s restroom. Giving Shizuka’s abilities, Masato was certain that from the moment he parted with Arthur, she was aware of his sudden visit. So why hadn’t she taken him in? Now inside the girl’s bathroom, Masato made sure to flatter her with complements as he called for her name, “Oi, filthy bitch! Don’t make me wait in here!” From every direction of the bathroom walls, a disembodied nasally voice of a women replied, “What’s the magic wooord?” “I’m calling the cops.” “Seito-kun wouldn’t let me go to prison.” “He answers to me now. Remember?” “… You’re no fun” just as she finished replying, the cold marble tiles of the bathroom’s floor morphed into a wide open mouth, in which Masato found himself standing atop its red tongue. The mouth would then rise and close as it twisted counterclockwise. As the perfectly ‘C’ curved pairs of teeth collided, they made an audible clock sound. Now that Masato was completely consumed, the jaw morphed back into the floor it was made from. Leaving no traces of it’s existence or Masato’s. The black jaws that swallowed Masato would reappear in the same twisting manner of their inception, only reversing the clockwise to counterclockwise pattern. As its teeth parted, an unscathed and unfazed Masato looked forward to the back of the much despised Shizuka. She sat in front of at least 20 different monitors, the blue light they emitted reflected greatly in her large round glasses. Hunched forward with her face buried into her monitors, Shizuka would be the first to break the silence as Masato approached her. “Watch your step please; you’ll disorganize my material.” Masato stopped in his steps and looked down to notice the stacks of erotic yaoi and yuri doujinshi manga. “What the fucks your problem?” he asked before kicking a clear path for himself to walk through. He knew there was no valid excuse to justify her degeneracy, so he didn’t expect one. However that didn’t stop Shizuka from trying, “when I was young and innocent-“ “Shut the fuck up and tell me where he is!” “ok, but you asked.” Shizuka sighed lowly before her eyelids shot wide open, exposing her glowing green pupils, which were normally dark brown. The pacing of her fingers increased drastically as she operated three separate keyboards simultaneously. The tapping sounds of her keys would come so rapidly that they eventually combined to form a consistent fluttering sound. Along with the incredible typing speed, the group of blue monitors of various sizes began to shift and exchange places. As she searched her ‘eyes’ located all throughout Karakura, Masato hadn’t bothered keeping up with her. For all her horrible qualities, Shizuka was gifted with a brain naturally adept at multitasking and storing information. Couple this with her Fullbring and she was second to none for the task Masato gave her. If only she didn’t use her gifts to also perv on Karakura High School’s students. After approximately 20 seconds, Shizuka suddenly stopped typing and sat back into her chair whilst her eyes regained their brown hue. “I found where he’s been hiding the most, but not his exact location. You’re gonna have to scout him out again. Can you not fail this time? He’s probably out there eating cute girls as we speak.” "wha-" Masato took some deep breaths as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his right thumb and index finger. A habit he often did when trying to be patient. Before he could reply to Shizuka’s remarks, the vibration of his phone could be heard and felt from his left pocket. Not surprisingly, it was a call from Arthur. Unfortunately he had no luck in his search, but it was to be expected. “Don’t stress over it. We managed to narrow it down to~…” Masato stalled his sentence and awaited for Shizuka to fill in the gap of his knowledge. She made a ‘two’ gesture with her fingers. “Two places. We can meet up tomorrow and plan a strategy. Got any suggestions for a location... alright I’ll see you there, bye.” With that he hung up the call and began retracing his steps to the area he entered Shizuka’s room from. “Where to?” Shizuka asked, finally bothering to turn and look at Masato. He replied while also turning to face her. “My apartment.” “Can you tell Azami-Sama I love her?” His eyes halved at her stupid request. “She has a boyfriend. You know this.” she shrugged, “it was worth the try.” The ground beneath Masato began to morph again, in a similar fashion as previous. He waited patiently to time his final remark… “Clean up this shithole.” He ordered as within a split second, the jaw rotated and swallowed him in to the ground and out to his apartment. WC: 1040
  2. Mumen Writer

    Battle Of The Degenerates

    What were the chances? Of all the people and hollows in Karakura, Masato’s new acquaintance shared the same mission as himself. Furthermore, he extended his right hand out before proposing an alliance to better search and destroy their common target. Due recently returning from his training and the acceleration of his team’s search for the Quarterer, Masato treated the extermination of this pesky hollow with very low priority; especially considering that it hadn’t to Masato’s knowledge, killed or even seriously injured anyone. With that said, his time could’ve been spent much better on other things, so he accepted the proposal under the mentioned premise that it would save them time. “Deal.” Masato replied resolutely while firmly returning the handshake. “I go by Hizorashi Masato. You can use just Masato if you want. I don’t mind.” Masato added upon releasing his grip of the stranger’s hand. He would then find his smart phone in his coat’s left pocket and begin the process of sharing his contact information. With his face illuminated by his mobile’s screen light, his new partner stated his intentions to help with the search after the arrival of the ambulance he just called. Masato however, did not plan on searching anymore that night. The information on the whereabouts of the hollow he was tasked with eliminating seemed credible based on this first encounter. The cyan clad Fullbringer decided to seek the help of that degenerate again, to quell Karakura of its new pest. “I can’t find anything that small at night. Especially if it’s intentionally hiding. You’re welcome to try, but I know someone who’s cut out for finding things. ‘If it’s in Karakura, she can find it,’ or so I’ve been told. I’ll be collecting intel, and keeping you updated on whatever I find. I trust you’ll do the same.” WC: 305
  3. Mumen Writer

    Battle Of The Degenerates

    Masato’s mouth frowned as his eye brows raised with curious admiration of the stranger’s rush and commitment to checking for what he presumed to be minor bruises. He was doubtful the unconscious man had any serious injuries worth calling an ambulance, since he himself had assessed the former host’s condition and determined that the only thing he was currently in danger of, was perhaps freezing to death. In fact, the only reason Masato inquired about “checking vitals”, was to distract his unwanted company and leave him responsible for the sleeper. However seeing how serious the stranger took the medical examination planted seeds of doubt in Masato. “Did I overlook something?” he wondered to himself while awaiting the examiners conclusion. The examiner stood straight before turning his mobile light off, signaling the completion of his task. Masato listened to his analysis intently. “Internal bleeding, just from that? We humans can be pretty fragile,” were the words he would’ve said had the stranger not continued with a statement that signified just how in the know he actually was. “You were chasing a Hollow…” Masato’s nonchalant expression switched to a sterner one as the topic of Hollows was not one he took lightly. “That is correct, it was a hollow you saw me chasing. It hops from host to host like a parasite, leeching from their spiritual energy and being an overall nuisance. This poor guy,” he gestured with a slight nod of his head, “was his latest victim. Had he not jumped ship, I would’ve had him begging for forgiveness as we speak. You seem like a capable person but I would still practice caution. He’s small, and only noticeable once he’s already taken a host. ” WC: 280
  4. Mumen Writer

    Not down enough.

    Masato returned to the hizorashi household with his father kosuke, and spent the night there with the rest of his immediate family. That night was the second in a roll of rowdy binge drinking and little sleep as they all celebrated Kosuke’s temporary return. The intentions to take Masato on his next business trip was protested a lot less by Fuyumi Hizorashi than either of the father and son duo expected. Perhaps she was more lenient because of the bonding opportunities she felt Masato missed out on, as of all her children, kosuke was absent the most from his upbringing. She assumed amidst the horrible hand life had dealt her only son, fatherly wisdom would help Masato through it all. If only she knew all the turmoil Kosuke’s fatherly wisdom would bring him in the following days. Masato would somehow escape the shackles of his drunk family, and leave for his apartment to pack and rest up, as suggested by his father. “I haven’t the faintest Idea what Mrs. Azami has planned for you! I would be cautious and bring extra everything to be safe, especially water and toilet paper!” the words of his father repeated in his head as he filled two suitcases of clothing, a first aid kit, his cyan coat, and of course, lots of water and toilet paper. _________________ Kosuke wandered into a quiet and seemingly abandoned market strip of Karakura. He turned to his right and looked at the silver garage gate of his old acquaintance’s shop. From the small creak beneath the aluminum gate, he could see the peeping of an orange light, signaling that there was someone present. He walked closer to the gate and listened. Through it, he could hear three separate voices, two male and one female. They were all familiar to him, and the reason he too left the Hizorashi household following his son. He knocked three times gently on the aluminum as to not disturb the… stray cats. “Who is it?!” the female voice asked aloud from behind the shops gate. Kosuke wouldn’t reply as his being there was intended to be a surprise. Instead he waited silently, knowing the nature of the female, she wouldn’t make him wait for long. The gates rattled open and the women, roughly in her mid-30’s spoke dismissively to her visitor before caring to see who it was. “We’ve been out of business for years now. What do you want...” she finally looked up and gasped at the sight of a grinning Kosuke, who placed his pointing finger over his perked lips and whispered mischievously, “Shh.” The shop Kosuke’s old friends inhabited once belonged to an old women, who gave fortune telling’s and warded off bad omens to pay her bills. In his youth, Kosuke used to visit her frequently after the mysterious recovery of his mother’s declining health. The two males inside were his best friends, one of which was married to the old shop owner’s granddaughter Reika, the female who was present. While catching up with all his friends were Kosuke’s intentions, on this specific night he came for the second male. Who wept and drank at the shops front counter. From outside the shop, Kosuke could hear the two others trying to counsel the man who endlessly cried. Seeing just how bad the man was, Kosuke elected to not perform his juvenile prank. Rather he let his presence be known by clearing his throat aloud. “Boss?” The husband of Reika, Tadashi instantly recognized the voice and stood from the bar to greet his old friend. “It’s been ages!” Tadashi smile gleefully as he shook hands with and hugged Kosuke firmly. He turned to the back of the still weeping man, who hadn’t flinched at the news of Kosuke’s arrival. For a second he had forgotten just how bittersweet the trio’s reunion was. The ordeal that brought them all to their old hangout spot. Kosuke walked to the man’s left, where Tadashi had just stood from, and sighed before taking his seat. He downed the half full cup of sake on the bar's counter before saying anything to the father of Asuna. After a silent wait that felt like ages to Tadashi and Reika, Kosuke finally initiated a conversation. “Genta, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect her.” The soft apology finally caught the man’s attention. “I can’t do anything to bring her back. But I swear to you…” as Kosuke paused, the shop gradually began to shake erratically. The sound of various small objects clanking and some glass breaking filled the shop’s silence as an enraged Kosuke struggled to continue. “I swear to you… that whatever attacked our Asuna, will not go easily!” two thin streams of tears poured from the outer ends of his eyes, over the reddening complexion of his face; on which, his pulsating veins were highlighted. _________________ Morning- 5:00AM Masato only had time to rest for 6 hours. His prepacked luggage meant that the 20 minutes to wash up was all he needed before he was ready to go. The arrangement was for his father to meet him downstairs at 5:30, so masato stood and watched through his window for any signs of his father’s arrival. At 5:15 he would finally see the tiny figure of a man all the way down the road, across from his building, the large distance made discerning the amount kosuke packed hard to determine, but using his frame as a reference, the giant camouflage bag he carried almost doubled his body in size, and Hizorashi Kosuke was anything but small. He would eventually make it to Masato’s apartment building just before 5:30. By then, Masato was already down stairs and waiting with the two suitcases of his own. The route was discussed as they walked to one of the final landmarks signaling the end of Karakura’s bounds; the meeting place where they would meet Azami. She was fashionably early, and used mobile video games and smoking to keep herself occupied awaiting the Hizorashi's. “Good morning!” Kosuke called from a few feet away. Neither he nor Masato could clearly make out her expression as she sat directly in front of the rising sun. “Good morning Sensei.” Masato would follow his father with his own greeting and a faint smile. He held a hand horizontally against his forehead to block some of the sun's intense brightness. As he and Kosuke came closer, her wrinkled and exhausted face would set the tone for how they would deal with her. “Uh, Azami, are you sure you’re up to this? We can reschedule if you’d like.” Masato spoke gently. The understanding and compromising approach hurt the ego the least. If ever she wanted to give up and save face, now would be her best chance. Azami however, was a special brand of stubborn. “No, Seito’s been swamped with police stuff, and I promised him I could finish this task. Papa Hizorashi’s time will also be wasted if we don’t hurry up.” She replied after closing her flip phone and standing up straight. “Oh, don’t mind me! I have nothing but time on my hands!” now even Kosuke extended the olive branch. If she refused now, she’ll have no more excuses for rescheduling. But that didn’t stop her. “I said I’m fine guys. I’m just a little impatient that our ride hasn’t arrived yet. Are you sure you called the Uber before you left the house? She asked while wiping sweat from her forehead and looking around the barren desert outskirts of Karakura. Her question was met with an uncomfortable silence. She refused to accept what her mind had already guessed. But her concerns were too worrisome to not confirm for certain. She turned around to face Kosuke again. “Don’t tell me you expect us to get their by foot? In this heat?!” she questioned the brutish man who stood unremorseful and indifferent to her nagging. “In the many trips I've taken, I can say for certain that walking the way will take us a week! If we run at full speed, it should take only a day and a half! I don’t own a car and with no more lucky teeth, I can’t afford to spend recklessly!” Kosuke explained and justified his own decisions proudly, sealing his words with a passionate thumbs up. Masato was also surprised to hear the journey would’ve been taken by foot. However, the tedious morning runs Azami put him through every day and afternoon gave him some much needed confidence. With his jogging sneakers on, he tapped the tips of his feet on the ground one at a time, making sure his footwear were tight and secure. He followed up with stretches to wake his body fully up in preparation for his longest run. In that time, Azami came up with a great idea to not quit, while simultaneously not running at her top speed for a two days straight. “Actually, this all works out in the end. The first step to completing your Fullbring is complete exhaustion. When your body depletes itself of Reiryoku, it becomes sensitive to other spiritual signatures, like the souls of objects. That is the best time to attempt to fully bring out the potential of your coat. Your first assignment starts here. Release a steady flow of Reiatsu as you run to drain yourself. Cardio isn't enough of a challenge. So you'll be carrying your father's things too. There is to be no assistance from your coat. You’ll wear, and keep it activated. But you'll be only using you raw physical strength.” she exclaimed, pointing to the camouflage bag. “Oh and my suitcase too,” she added as she walked up to her disciple and placed her suitcase in his hands. Masato was somehow more worried about her small suitcase, than Kosuke’s giant bag. Did it magically weigh tons? He was hesitant to accept it in his hands, but was pleasantly surprised when he finally did. His expectations failed greatly; the case was rather extremely light. This would normally only raised more suspicions but Masato could only be glad that his burden was less heavy than he predicted. He managed to find space in his father’s bag for all of the trio’s luggage; this made carrying it all much more convenient with his limited amount of hands. With the bag strapped on his back, and his father by his side, Masato was all set to run. There was just one problem, “aren't you coming with?” He turned to and ask Azami, who was making her way back to karakura and, unbeknownst to him, her bed. “I’ll catch up to you guys in a heartbeat, 'might even make it there before you. I just forgot I left the warehouse unlocked, those delinquents have a sixth sense for unprotected property.” Masato and Kosuke both stared blankly and unconvinced by her excuse. Their uncomfortable silence compelled her to find another lie, hopefully a more convincing one. “Crap, I left the electric stove running from this morning when I made breakfast. I wanted to make sure I was satiated for this crazy run." kosuke noticed and prepared to catch her in the lie she had just told, but his son would quickly interject before he could speak, “Alright, see you there.” He too noticed the glaring flaw in her story, but every second they stood chatting, was a second his shoulders and back cried for relief. Unsurprisingly, kosuke’s bag was the heaviest one, weighing easily over half a ton. kosuke’s sharp eyes were perceptive and got the message Masato was making. “Try not to get lost on your own in this desert!” he advised her before turning in the general direction of the route he memorized by heart. “LET’S GO!” and with those final words, the father and son duo took off on their journey to train in the green mountains. 5 Days Later Masato swayed left to right with his strides, which bordered on just regular walking. The duo were both drenched in their own sweat. To escape the direct rays of the bright and yellow midday sun, Masato’s coat was sufficient; and kosuke’s tan explorer’s fedora kept him safe as he seemingly jogged in place, at Masato’s right side. He could’ve long since arrived at their intended destination alone, but abandoning his son was absolutely not an option. Against his fatherly desire to ease his son’s pain, he understood the importance of fulfilling and staying true to one’s own commitments. His help would sour his son’s taste of victory and pride of surpassing his limits. Instead he provided words of encouragement to his boy, whose head dangled atop his severely bruised neck and shoulders. “Look son, you can see the green mountains ahead! We are very close! Should we end this on a high note?!” he asked Masato, who hadn’t spoken in at least 2 hours. “Son?!” Masato would finally reply, but not at all how his father expected, “zzzz, zzzz, zzzz!” “Gahahaha! What a riot! Wake up boy, we’ve probably kept Miss Azami waiting long enough!” Kosuke laughed and exclaimed while using his left hand to shake the large bag his sleeping son still carried. The sudden jerking motion successfully awoke Masato. “Huh?” his half-awake response satisfied kosuke enough for him to stop the shaking. “Your tank’s supposed to be empty! Take care of that before we arrive!” “Right.” Masato stopped walking before he removed the group’s luggage from his back. With his eyes now closed, he took his deepest inhale through his nose and held it for roughly 10 seconds. While he held it he turned to his father and peeked with an expression that said, “are you sure you don’t want to back up?” kosuke was too excited to see how his son progressed to care for his own safety. Masato’s reminder snapped him into reality. “Oh right, I’ll take the bags too!” he spoke as he grabbed his large bag and rushed some 20 meters away. He used their luggage as a barrier of protection from what they had been routinely doing for the past 5 days. In truth, their journey should've taken them only 24 hours, possibly less. But Kosuke thought it would be a waste to not take advantage of the vastness of the desert. Since departing, they stopped every 5 hours to allow Masato to flare his Reiatsu at its max, until he was completely exhausted. In addition, he would complete 500 reps of pushups and sit ups, while still baring the weight of the luggage. At first, only 15 minutes of excreting his energy was all it took to render Masato unconscious. Five hours ago, he lasted for 7 hours. Taking into account he hadn’t fully replenished his Reiatsu, one could only imagine his endurance once fully fed and rested. Upon seeing his father at a presumably safe distance, Masato would exhale with a loud roar. From the ground beneath his feet, suddenly burst a black flame-like energy with purple accents. The initial eruption easily pushed and uninitiated Kosuke, and the shield he hid behind. The direction of the purple flames circled slowly around Masato’s body; but as time progressed, the circular movement gradually ceased. What remained was a smooth, thin, semitransparent pillar of Reiatsu that snake-danced from the ground up; eventually tampering at the top. The sun had completely set and the roaring of his bursting energy was no more. He was completing the weighted exercise and conversing with his father while maintaining the constant flow of Reiatsu, almost effortlessly. “I don’t… see myself… tiring any time soon.” He paused to inhale deeply before proceeding. “Should we… just head to the forest?” Masato asked his father by the fire place, as he performed and neared the completion of his final reps. “I guess this isn’t much of a challenge for you anymore! I can’t think of a reason why we shouldn’t!” Kosuke replied while also doing pushups. He then raised his body with a single burpee and kicked a heap of sand into their campfire. ”If you actually run at your top speed, you should make it there in a few hours.” Masato would also stand straight and question his father’s statement. “You’re not coming? Don’t tell me you left the stove on too.” Masato quipped with a faint smirk. “Gahaha, that’s not it! I just don’t want you carrying all that for much longer! You don’t need me slowing you down, I’ll be right behind ya!” Kosuke reassured his son with his iconic, passionate thumbs up and charismatic smile. Masato looked at his father with a soft expression that conveyed more than words could do, how grateful and appreciative he was for the five days of one on one bonding they shared. He would then approach his father and share a tight and genuine hug. “Thanks dad.” “Don’t mention it.” After they broke away from their hug, Masato turned away to the direction of the forest. He could only see the black of the night, as his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the natural light of the moon. Even still, the mountains in the distance appeared to be nothing but a mass of black terrain, barely discernible from the earth’s horizon. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” Masato exclaimed, before leaping into the air, as his body began to naturally fall under the immense weight of everything he carried, he leapt again. As if skipping in the air, Masato had learnt to utilize bringer light to semi-fly. There was a bit of confusion on Kosuke’s part as he wasn’t sure what Masato could’ve forgotten. Suddenly he felt a tight grip upon his waist, which instantly drew his attention. “Hmm?!” before he could fully register the events, He was snatched into the air by the tail of Masato. This was his first time seeing his son’s Fullbring. “This is pretty incredible! But weren’t you told to not use it?!” Kosuke asked aloud while gripping the cyan tail with his left hand and holding his fedora in place with his right. Masato would shout back to assure that his voice was still heard through all the whistling of strong wind. “We’re late and this is much faster! Besides you’ve never been flying before!” “Fair enough!” Kosuke replied with a grin and some laughter, while taking notice of how high from the ground they were. Deep into the forest, Azami sat with her back against the stone base of a mountain, in front of a campfire of her own. Its flickering orange light illuminated her surroundings from which, many stories of battle could be read by the conditions of the terrain. Broken and scarred trees, suspiciously shattered surfaces, a few brown stains of long since dried blood. Azami was sure their agreed upon meeting point, wherein she currently resided, was the former living courters of Masato’s father. Most likely where he battled many Hollows. The thought that she was currently sitting out in the open, on the battle grounds that could attract even more hollows, never bothered her. In fact, it never crossed her mind that she could be the one in danger, when her disciple had kept her waiting for 4 days. She could sense his and his father’s presence approaching by foot, but was too exhausted to give them the earful she wanted to. The sound of their footsteps and rustling through various bushes gradually increased until both parties could finally see one another. The purple Reiatsu dancing from Masato had thinned slightly since he took off flying with his father. From its consistently smooth and controlled flow, Azami could easily discern that more than running had occurred on their way to her location. It was less work for her, and she couldn’t resist feeling proud for her student's progress. But despite it all, she felt nothing but resentment. Her mixed feelings about Masato’s arrival would simmer her initial words. But for what reason did she have to be angry? There had to be a good reason. Azami was the first to speak, in a disgruntled tone no less. “Took you both long enough. You have any Idea how long I’ve been waiting for you?” In his approach closer to Azami, Masato replied while removing their luggage from his back, “Sorry. We would’ve rushed over had we knew you were actually coming. We couldn’t sense your Reiatsu until we were already 4 days late. Why didn’t you call us? Actually, how did you even get here?” Azami drained her phone battery on her first day of a rival. How else would she kill time as she waited for, what was supposed to be, a single day. As for how she got there… Day of departure from Karakura, Azami’s apartment “Aye Yuuto, how have you been… I'm doing great thanks, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time… great, I need to borrow your Senkaimon… Yeah it’s very important…“ Yuuto’s side of the phone call “I’m sorry, that’s too far out of my jurisdiction… yeah but they record and log opening gates, especially ones to the world of the living, you know this… that lie isn’t very convincing, sigh, I’ll see what I can pull off. But you owe me big time for this.” Present Azami was for the most part, uninterested in answering how she cheated her way to the forest, and much less so, how the plan backfired horribly. Her priorities, and the real origin of her sour mood, was in the suitcase she left with Masato, and expected to reunite with on that very same day. She grunted with irritation before replying to Masato’s inquiries, “doesn’t matter, just give me my case please.” Masato had forgotten about it to the point that a sense of understanding overcame him, and he genuinely felt sorry. He wouldn’t have wanted to be without the suitcase of his valuables for 5 days too. But recalling just how light it was, he wondered just what was it that could have such a negative effect on her, should she go without it. After removing Azami’s case from the camouflage bag, he popped it open to have a peek at its contents. Curiosity from the initial peek compelled him to open it fully. His discovery and worst fears were realized, causing his face to cringe with disgust and disappointment. “What is it?!” Noticing the displeasure in his son’s face, Kosuke walked over to inspect the contents as well. And there he saw it, stuffed with no space to spare, a suitcase filled to the brim with cigarette packets. His knee jerk reaction was eerily similar to Masato's, only instead of having his back to Azami, Kosuke let her see just how little respect he now had for her with his expression. Azami felt ashamed and acknowledged her smoking addiction for the first time. “STOP ACTING SURPRISED! YOU KNOW I HAVE A PROBLEM!” she exclaimed while trying her best to avoid eye contact. The trio would banter and share a meal over Azami’s campfire, all while Masato expelled Reiatsu. He would then be tasked with collecting wood while the others rested. The mission was to drain his energy to the point where his body was forced to take from his coat. Thus pulling its full potential. To arrive at that level of exhaustion, his physical body would also need to be exhausted. For all the help his training did in the desert, the additional volume and control of his raw Reiatsu made the act of depleting him much harder. Thankfully with her month supply of smokes, Azami was willing to wait out the clock. They occasionally sparred in their wait, wherein Masato had bested her in most occasions. Even her speed was beginning to lose its edge. But the more he gained on her, the more determined she was to push him further. Masato wasn’t sure why. Azami wasn’t the jealous type, but to be this motivated for his progress; it certainly wasn't her regular level of enthusiasm. In the end, Kosuke and Azami’s efforts took another week of time before Masato was in the condition necessary to ascend to a complete Fullbringer. Masato laid on his stomach, panting heavily while drenched in his own sweat. His hair was understandably more untidy than usual, compiling that was it's greyish tone from all the dirt it held. His body was absolutely sore and he could barely move an inch. From his sunken face, stomach, and ribs, one could easily discern that he was in a very deep state of starvation. Somehow however, that was the least of his worries. Azami stood above him, levitating in the air. In her hand was her folding fan. She held it over her shoulder in preparation for a devastating attack; a gust of wind fast enough to cut through flesh, as demonstrated by the many fresh scratches all over Masato. One would mistake the predicament the young man was in as unwanted abuse, but they would be wrong. Masato willingly accepted the ludicrous proposal and voluntarily signed up for what was essentially torture. What would drive someone to this level of sacrifice and depravity? What purpose did Masato have, that drove him to willingly destroy the very vessel he had tirelessly honed since his first meeting with Seito. To find that answer, Masato would have to reopen a wound that had only just begun to recover. This was of course, not of the physical nature, but the spiritual and psychological. _________________ “Hey, we haven’t spoken in a while. That would normally mean good news, but you’re here on purpose. Why?” a familiar deep voice spoke from Behind Masato. The human was confident in Identifying who the disembodied speaker was. An old friendly animal, whose guidance turned the tide of his battle with the Hollow Charles. “It’s been a while Useless Bundle.” Masato turned around, looking up and expecting to see the giant purple wolf creature that once was. But his eyes gazed upon nothing, for the furious and intimidating wolf was now naught but a docile and harmless pup. “What happened to you?” Masato asked while looking down upon his friend. “Well, you haven’t given me the fire I needed to sustain my old existence. Our relationship is give and take. I still think I’m getting the short end of the stick.” the pup replied, it’s still deep resonating voice betraying its small and innocent appearance. Masato contemplated the words of "give and take" that the pup used to describe their partnership. “You’ve clearly given me strength when I needed you the most. But what have I given you in return?” he asked, unable to decipher his companion’s words. “The need!” With those two words, the weight of the air grew intense quickly. Masato’s inner world, so to speak, was a blank white room, but with the intensity of the atmosphere, the walls turned jet black and robbed Masato of his senses, save for hearing and seeing. But until there was anything to hear or see, Masato became breathless in a panic. The serenity of his internal universe was no more. Compared to this timeless nightmare, Masato would’ve much preferred Azami and his father’s torture. “This is your moment. Dig deep for a reason I should lend you more. You’ve lost the fire that created me. The void that brought you to me has since been filled with a small and loving supportive group.” The deep voice finally spoke, images of the ones that Masato was closest to flashed around him. Seito, Azami, his mother, Daughter, siblings, all appeared to remind him of his blessings. People still in his life to cherish and protect. The voice would add, “You’ve even had an addition to that support group.” A large and bright image of his father, grinning from ear to ear, appeared in front of Masato. His panic had slowed before, but seeing his father put an end to it entirely. “With your current strength, you can protect them all. What reason do you have for more?” The room went silent and dark again. Masato rested on all fours, searching for reasons. What reason… What reason? He clenched his fist tight enough for his palms to bleed, tough as they were. Had he grit his teeth any harder they might’ve shattered. His mind scrabbled as his eyes swelled up with tears of rage. The reason he started this journey, accepted this torture, and pushed his every limit. He needed only remember the words Seito spoke that night, “She was... gonna come back man." Following that memory, an image of the severed limbs of Asuna always followed. The indignity of how her remains rot in some alley on her way to him. Why would the being who shared his every memory, pretend to not understand? His chest was heavy and in his anger, he had stopped breathing. The negative emotions and memories suppressed and ignored were once again coming to the surface. The desire to lash out wasn't easy to endure, but through remembering the death of his wife, the only target of his rage was also remembered, The Quarterer. His fist unbuckled slowly and began to regain a steady breathing pattern. He wiped his tears and stood to his feet to speak softly to the abyss. "Since you share my thoughts and memories, you know my answer." The black room was suddenly set ablaze with the black and purple energy of which he was accustomed to. Normally he was protected by its presence, but now the flames engulfed himself too. From his feet to the tip of his head, the purple flames consumed all but his eyes and ears, so he could see the giant and fiendish yellow eyes, as well as hear the final words they spoke. “I'm sorry for letting you down, Asuna.” _________________ Azami could easily sense the sudden brewing Reiatsu from the exhausted Masato. It was the sign she needed to tell he was beginning to pull the residual energy of his coat, completing the task they came for. “Here it comes, get back. It’s more than I expected… Further!... SHIT!” _________________ Masato’s awoke from the inner conversation he had. The last thing he could remember was the useless bundle’s apology. The sun rising as opposed to setting gave him an estimate of the amount of time passed. After he rubbed his eyes, his vision cleared enough to notice all the drastic changes in his surroundings. The mountain, surrounding trees, their campsite, everything had been replaced with a humongous crater, in which he was centered. The eerie total silence of the forest was the only thing more worrisome than his missing father and Azami. He stood up and immediately began to Search for his peers. To leave the crater he resided, he elected to blink to its edge with the use of Bringers light. Following the brief green flicker from beneath his feet, Masato noticed he covered the distance much faster than usual, and upon arriving where he intended, he was given an unpleasant surprise. “Ah!” he shouted as he felt the bones of his right landing leg fracture. He hypothesized that the new increase in strength and speed was too high for even his well-trained vessel to manage. As such, he would have to walk in his search for his father and Azami; lest he suffer more injuries. On the topic of injuries, all the ones he had sustained from yesterday’s torture had been healed. "If only my stomach was full too." He thought while observing the still starved condition of his body. As much as he wanted to find the company he trained with, he needed to eat first. Fish was on the menu for his breakfast, so Masato walked his way over and through the hard rocks and moist moos of the forest. His destination for now was the shallow river he usually fished from, but barefooted and without his cyan coat, though cupped hands he still called for Azami and his father. The otherwise silent forest replied only with the chirps of birds and a songs of Japanese cicadas. _________________ WC: 5360 -Complete Fullbring achieved Hizorashi Kosuke
  5. Mumen Writer

    Battle Of The Degenerates

    Masato could feel the aura of a being who, at some point in his chase, began to follow him. Their Reiatsu too, was considerably high compared to the average human’s. Despite this, even with his back to them, the cyan clad Fullbringer did not feel threated by their arrival. Perhaps his over confidence was a byproduct of obtaining his Complete Fullbring, and the power that it came with. He elected not to move or speak before his stalker did. When dealing with other potentially spiritually aware humans, Masato practiced caution in order to not overshare, or worse, overreact. It was only recently upon being promoted, that the hostile tensions between Fullbringer factions in Karakura was made known to him. And while he hadn’t any intentions to participate in their squabbles for dominance, he would protect himself and his employees from the others that sought to do them harm. “Is he alright?” The now presumed male inquired, referring of course to the man Masato had wrapped in cyan cloth. His question conveyed his concern for the unconscious man, and swayed Masato to treat his new company as an ally, and fellow protector of Karakura. Besides, if he was ill intentioned and planned to attack, it would’ve been earlier when his target was more preoccupied. Masato turned around to face the curious individual, making sure the uncovered and resting face of the man was clear to see. Looking up to his right in the direction of the cocooned civilian’s face, Masato replied with a hint of worry in his voice. “I’m not sure, do you know how to check for vitals?” as he answered the man’s question with one of his own, he unwrapped the body slowly while placing it gently on the cold ground between himself and the second stranger. WC: 295
  6. Mumen Writer

    Battle Of The Degenerates

    BATTLE OF THE DEGENERATES On a chilling cold knight above the rooftops of Karakura, a cyan clad Masato followed the trail of an infamous hollow with haste. The mission of finding and eliminating this corrupted spirit was assigned by none other than his teacher Azami. The acts of stalking in the night and hunting dangerous predators were what he accepted when he agreed to learn under her. Normally he blindly followed and trusted the instructions of his mentors, but the details, and lack thereof, made Masato hesitate to immediately use lethal force on the victim of his pursuit. To any incapable of perceiving Reiatsu, the shadowy figure in Masato’s crosshairs was a normal human, but the Reiatsu signature and the booming technique it used to travel at blistering speeds were unmistakably those of a hollow. Despite the hollow’s efforts, if he wanted to, Masato could catch up to him with ease. However, against the teachings of his Azami and his better judgement, the Fullbringer waited and observed for any signs of aggression from the fleeing hollow. In his head, Masato replayed his given instructions and the vagueness that came with them. -2 days ago, after returning from his training- Azami sat, legs crossed, on a sofa in their group’s warehouse. She smoked a cigarette through her right hand while resting her right elbow above the back of her left hand. She inhaled a large puff of her cigarette before exhaling to speak. “Listen up, since you’ve completed your Fullbring, I have the perfect mission for you. I misjudged a hollow and let him off the hook.” “What do you mean? Since when did we let hollows live?” Azami let out a heavy sigh and scratch her head in search for her next words, as they would seem contradictory to what her student, now boss, was led to believe. “This sounds strange, but there are innocent and well intentioned hollows out there. No spirit chooses to turn corrupt, and they don’t all consume other spirits. When I was babysitting Reina, I thought he was just a pitiful hollow, struggling to survive. ‘Had no Idea he was the worst of the worst.” “What did he do to change your mind?” “Uh, don’t worry about it. Trust me this guy is scum.” Azami replied before sharing the last known location of the target Masato was to eliminate. -Back to present- Masato lost his patience with his fleeing target. Was this hollow harmless or a threat? After apprehending the runner, he would find out for himself. Fortunately the apprehension wouldn’t take long, as the opportunity to secure his prey’s footing came when the hollow leapt high to reach the next rooftop. Masato slowed his pace as he twisted his torso to the right and raised his right arm. He would then mimic a throwing motion with it, causing a wire like appendage to stretch from within his right sleeve. It quickly and precisely latched onto the leading leg the hollow intended to land on; stopping its jumping momentum in the process. The fleeing figure’s sudden halt came before it swung backwards and into the brick wall off the building he had just jumped from. A tiny black blur fell from the suspect’s hoodie just before Masato raised him back onto the rooftop. Masato observed the body and was certain he was too late. The man before him was unconscious, and no longer produced the high Reiatsu signature he sensed before. -2 days ago- “He’s a parasite type. Small, scummy, pathetic, weaselly, ugly, gross, piece of shit. That’s it, A worm of shit is the best way I can describe him. He can possess humans and spirits to do his bidding. So be careful handling his host’s bodies, you don’t want to seriously injure innocent civilians. I should also mention that because of how pathetic he is, tracking his Reiatsu is virtually impossible. But once he possess a host, they will gain a huge boost in strength. Still, it shouldn’t be too much for you, as you are now.” -Back to present- “Crap.” Masato stooped to the head of the former host and checked his neck for a pulse. It wasn’t abnormal, and save for the bruises sustained from crashing into the wall, the man roughly in his mid-20s was unharmed. The Fullbringer sighed heavily with relief. He used the wrapping already around the man’s leg and increased its size to form a cocoon to carry him in. had it not been so late, he would’ve continued the pursuit. But giving the size and color of his target, searching dark alleys and corners would probably prove futile. Furthermore he had a certain repulsive employee, who was far better suited for finding well-hidden things in Karakura. ___________ WC: 790
  7. Mumen Writer

    The Harrowing Recess

    ND: 7140(7340-200) Talisman of Karma Activated: 6140(7140-1000) Masato was more frustrated than words could convey. The blunder of blocking San’s attack for their shared enemy was entirely his own fault. In the panic of trying to capitalize on Tomoe’s position, he made a simple but devastating mistake. Had he went for the back of her neck with his scythe, her chances of evasion would’ve have been much more limited. And a direct hit would’ve been guaranteed. Instead, she freely glided backwards to avoid his attack and San’s. What’s more, for the first time ever, his fullbring was completely cut through with a single slash of her mist blades, and to add insult to injury, the thrown blade of San released a dark gaseous substance that he hadn’t the time to avoid. It was harmless for the most part, leaving a lingering sensation of slight numbness. Equally annoying were the wraiths created by Tomoe’s spin, before she escaped into the bed of mist. Masato would reflexively raise his left arm in front of his face for defense against the blue-eyed blotches of mist. From the left shoulder area of his coat, a large cyan arm would emerge and mirror the movements of his left arm. Standing on its thumb and pointing finger, the cyan hand was large enough to completely block the shrieking blotches, which had turned to claws and pairs of teeth. Some of the made their way over and around the cyan barrier, but could cause little harm by their lonesome. To get rid of the gnawing and scratching horde, Masato cupped his hand and pushed the swarm of claws and teeth back, then up into the air. His hand then turned counter clockwise and palm side down before slamming its palm, and the wraiths by extension, into the misty floor. But as he raised his cyan hand to retrieve it into his coat, nothing remained of the blotches. The theory of their re-assimilation into the mist was not a hard one to believe. As San too, fought off a horde of wraiths, Masato judged that he wasn’t too preoccupied to listen to a proposal. “We’re too slow. We need to…” Masato was mid statement when the attention of Tomoe suddenly set upon him. She ran lowly and gained on her target quickly, preparing her clawed right arm for the swift onslaught. Masato kept his attention on her claws as they appeared to be the source of her strongest attacks. [11-12]The first two blades of mist, of which the Fullbringer had grown accustomed to, had clearly been targeted towards San, based on their distance apart and trajectory. Masato was confident enough in his own defensive capabilities; as such, he didn’t mind blocking the left blade with the hardened backhand of the last cyan arm he created. But that was the most he could do for his blue ally. San or Captain Kusho would have to handle the blade rushing to San’s right shoulder. [13]Once Tomoe came into melee range of Masato, she would initiate the first swing of her claw at his left shin. His ample time to react and the much telegraphed movement of her swing made the necessary defense simple. A hardened cyan slab would protrude from the bottom of his coat and bury itself into the ground, completely blocking against Tomoe's first low slash. [14]Despite the first swing’s interception, Tomoe did not lose momentum; rather her speed increased as she spun in place again; threatening to claw across his abdomen. Masato twisted his, already raised, left arm clockwise at the elbow. He hadn’t the speed to build another shield, so simply hardening the sleeve of his coat was all he could do to reinforce his block. As her claws and the bottom side of his forearm connected, the force of her swing pushed his arm slightly counter clockwise. [15]Lastly, Tomoe performed a second spin in front of Masato, elevating her center of gravity with it. The claw was now targeting his forehead. But the predictable and same attack from the same direction was making Masato’s counters progressively easier. The sleeve of his right arm stretched over his right hand, coating it with hardened protective material. He then stretched his right hand across his forehead and leveled his palm with Tomoe’s strike, quickly blocking. [1]As his palm and her claw connected, the harden coat around his hand wrapped along hers, successfully binding his and hers right hands. [2]As he linked their right arms, Masato shrunk the left cyan hand he used to block into a scarf like appendage, and quickly wrapped it behind Tomoe and around left her ankle. Performing a second binding to assure the others had more time to react. The responsibility of attacking was beyond his own capabilities. But with the flexibility of his coat, he could most certainly create openings for the others to attack. [16-17-18]From the corner of his eye, just pass Tomoe’s left arm, Masato could see more incoming mist blades originating from the same point. He refused to let their precious opportunities to attack go to waste evading and blocking. With all the speed he could muster, he whipped his tail horizontally in front of the incoming blades, blocking them one at a time. Masato exhausted all his efforts into providing his allies with opportunities to attack. Knowing Tomoe’s pattern of spinning to safety, Should his efforts prove futile and she some how manage to escape his grasp, it could mean taking the beating of a life time at the jaws and claws of her smoky wraiths, and more importantly, his ego. _____________________ WC: 925 REMAINING ND: 4795 (6140-1345) -ACTIONS- -STATS-
  8. Mumen Writer

    The Harrowing Recess

    The team of humans and Shinigami made their way through the horde of wailers with practically no effort. Each individual utilized their respective abilities to assure no lives were lost on their way to Tomoe’s location. But the next and final obstacle in their wake was more devastating than most expected. Ahead of the group, roared a high rising wall of the same mist that plagued the cemetery, only it twisted at a speed and force stronger than ever. By Tamura’s knowledge, going through this blistering wind was the only way to reach Tomoe, so none voice any complaints at the prospect, even in the short break they took from running, wherein their team guide repaired his Tengu mask. To insure he wasn't swept off his feet, Masato created and repeatedly used his tail as in anchor to tread through the storm. His ability to create multiple appendages also made protecting against the storms’ debris, of various sizes, easier. Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for the three Shinigami behind him, who he could hear being taken by the storm one at a time. It went without saying, but if any could not survive through this obstacle, they would’ve been of no use to the fight against Lady Tomoe. None looked back, but a masked Tengu would give words of hope to the ones he still led. The loud roars of the storm slowly subsided as Masato took his final steps out of it. Directly ahead of him was undoubtedly the one and only Lady Tomoe. Her white Haori complemented the pale complexion of her tall slender frame and silky black hair. Upon her chest was a hole from which a black chain descended. Her crown-like mask and enlarged, skeletal right hand were telling signs of how close to a complete hollow she was. Masato would’ve liked to attack first, but the swinging right arm of Tomoe, and the ripping slashes of mist they created, gave Connor and Tengu the priority of evading and attacking first. However, the habits and signs of her attacks did not go unnoticed by Masato, who took the time his allies bought to observe her patterns, and create a weapon for when an opening presented itself. Though with her speed, he had doubts of whether he could successfully hit her. Doubts that only worsened when Tomoe fled from Connor and Tengu, and suddenly appeared before San. Her attacks were the same as those she used on Connor and Tengu, but seeing them up close put into perspective, just how unlikely he could attack freely without fearing for his life. He wasn’t sure of San’s defenses, but assumed the worst of his fate, given that he hadn’t even raised his zanpakutou to block. The whistles of the captain’s orbs were sounded and before seconds, a yellow rectangular barrier came to the blue shinigami’s rescue, and blocked her every attack. "You worry about attacking." Exclaimed Captain Kusho as he repositioned himself. The moment her attacks were blocked was most ideal for San to counter, but it was a fleeting one, as she quickly returned into the mist spread across the battleground’s floor, wherein she became untraceable to Masato. It planted a theory into his head as to how she disappeared earlier. But the time to hypothesize was cut short when she emerged from the misty ground left of Masato, threatening to cut his back with her claws. Masato was turning her way to parry the incoming claw when a sudden blur of black Reiatsu came clashing into her hand and temporarily eliminating its threat. Masato assumed it was the Captains doing, but wouldn’t bother thanking him until their business with Tomoe was over. She had of course disappeared into the ground, only laughing this time. Masato stayed vigilant and watched the surface of the mist from which she would inevitably jump from. But his concentration didn’t alert him of the sudden push he felt from his right. Reflexively, he looked towards the direction the push came from to see the Captain again, protecting him from Tomoe’s attack. He came a slight nod of acknowledgement, signaling a shift in how he would approach Tomoe, and to a lesser extent, his opinion of Oriru. With the cover of the captain’s defenses, Masato decided to rush Tomoe with reckless abandon. He would still use his brain to strike precisely, but in order to be the spear to Kusho’s shield, he couldn’t keep obsessing over his own defense. Tomoe’s next appearance was roughly 10 feet from San. Masato first thought was how much of a mistake her approaching them was. With her speed and range, their best chance of landing a meaningful hit was in close courters. And then San ran from her… “Tsk,” Masato sucked his teeth in disappointment of the loss opportunity. He was already running towards Tomoe since she reappeared, but with San’s retreat, he needed to move his fastest should he want to attack before she returned to the misty floor. With a green flicker behind his strongest right step, Masato’s Bringers Light placed himself to Tomoe’s left; preparing to decapitate her. [1]In both his hands was the cyan shaft of the death scythe he had created with his Fullbring. The scythe provided the least amount of evasion options for Tomoe; moving to her right would only place her neck to the purple blade of the scythe faster, moving forward would slam her chest into the cyan shaft, and now behind her was a shadowy clone of San. [2]To counter her option of disappearing to the floor, Masato would wrap his tail behind her and around her right wrist to prevent her next spin, and keep her in place above the mist. __________________________ WC: 945 -ACTIONS- -STATS-
  9. Mumen Writer

    Egriffiend's Night of Wailing [Event Arc]

    In the process of sifting through all the wreckage, Masato collected several pieces of Tengu’s broken mask. The boy’s Tengu identity appeared to be built on the mask, so Masato held elected to return them. ___________________________________ Masato was curious of the Shinigami, who introduced himself in the shrine prior as San Salvatore. He and three other Shinigami had approached the trio of humans from the blurry mist, but as Connor disappeared, so too did one of the men from San’s group. Despite his curiosity in the… different hue of San’s complexion, Masato tried to pay him no mind. To his knowledge, San wasn’t in agreement with the scheme to rob Tengu of his significant other, but until he heard the blue man express condemnation of the actions of his peers, Masato wouldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Kindhearted as he tried to be, Masato wasn’t so naïve to trust the Shinigami in the cemetery, whose captain seemed to flip from a reasonable and understanding to exploitative and kidnapping. “Human when ready to move say the word, we will accompany you.” The blue Shinigami spoke to Masato’s back. Masato’s expression turned unimpressed, and slightly annoyed that his plan to dismiss the Shinigami as back background extras wasn’t to be. He turned only his head to San and prepared to berade him with his every negative thought and opinion he had of their captain and representative. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m heading towards the others once I’m finished placing these O-fudas.” Masato replied warmly to the Shinigami, while internally cursing his approachable nature, “COWARD!” Bearing the same stern face as before, San spoke his next words and much to Masato’s astonishment, they weren’t in support of his captain kusho’s decision. “I do not know if the Captain made the right choice but im here to help.” “I guess this is a start.” Masato thought to himself while swiftly placing several talismans on his cyan cage. He turned the rest of his body to fully face the blue Shinigami before asking, “Would you happen to know Kaido? They could really use it.” he gestured slightly to the laying bodies behind him. The unfortunate answer from San wasn’t as disappointing as one might expect. Truthfully, the commitment the Shinigami made and hostility they showed towards humans convinced Masato there was no mending the tarnished relationship between both parties. As such, he stopped counting on the Shinigami’s help to get through the night. “I want to help Tengu and Connor, but I’m not sure I can trust the Shinigami alone with these injured bodies.” Were Masato’s thoughts as he looked in the direction his allies rushed in. he would need an excuse to pull San away from the cage. “You seem to have your head on straight. We might need you to talk some sense into your superior.” Masato proposed with ulterior motives. The other two Shinigami didn’t appear strong enough break through his cage, but the blue one carried a more sinister and mysterious aura. “I have no real ties with the captain, my words may not have any sort of impact on his choices. Be it that, I am willing to try.” The plan worked. He could leave knowing the injured were mostly safe from the thieving Shinigami. Masato and San made haste to their respective allies while making quick work of the wailers that crossed their path, it didn’t take long for them to arrive at the scene, where Connor held hostage a familiar Shinigami and that pig held Chizuru. The atmosphere was eerily silent as everyone’s focus seemed solely on the Captain Shinigami. Naturally Masato chose to only observed unless the Shinigami’s acted in a way that necessitated violence. The captain finally broke the silence with three words that ensured the temporary de-escalation between the two races, “you are right.” Following a brief pause, he continued with a speech of pain and of how it impedes sound reasoning. Stress and pain be damned, in all his life’s pain, Masato never once had the urge to commit such a heinous act. That the balancers of the world incapable of balancing their own emotional outburst, Masato was truly beginning to despise the being who gave them authority. Even after his speech, his reaffirmation of the Shinigami’s alliance, and exchanging Chizuru for Connor's hostage, Oriru hadn’t apologized for the action of his subordinates and, more importantly, his own. The fullbringer spoke lowly to himself, but still loud enough for San, and perhaps others like Connor, to hear. “I know that feeling too, when in pan, I also justify kidnapping innocent girls.” He paused with a scoff. “Is there no apologies in the Shinigami vocabulary?” He would’ve expressed his doubt and distrust of Oriru who, at their first meeting, showed signs of intelligence beyond the presumptuous buffoons he called his underlings; but the choice of how to proceed was largely the bat wielding teenager’s, who was nor referred to as Tomura Ryunosuke. The decision made was to overlook the Shinigami’s transgressions and finish what they all came for. Through his possession by the Lady Tomoe, Ryunosuke obtained her location, motives, and by what means she was able to use the mist. All that was left for them to do was follow his guidance to the gravesite of Lady Tomoe. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" her loud shrieking voice was broadcasted throughout the cemetery. The desperation in her tantrum and her justification for all her wrong doings was ignored by many; most notably by Ryunosuke himself. Before he began his to lead them to Tomoe, Masato took the opportunity to approach and hand him the pieces of his mask. “’Seemed important.” Ryunosuke finally took off and a speed much lower than what he was fully capable of, for obvious reasons. Ahead of them was the arm of wailers Tomoe had been growing ever since they entered shrine grounds. Undoubtedly, the swarm of undead in their path would’ve posed a much bigger threat had their weapons not been infused with the aura of the small talismans. Even light attacks were enough to force the possessive souls out of their undead vessels. Masato’s choice of weapon was his sharpened tail, with which he slashed, swatted and stabbed any and all wailers around him. The convenience of the tails length and speed allowed him to keep a consistent pace throughout the journey to Lady Tomoe’s lair. ______________________________ WC: 1040 Unlocked Achievement: [FOUR IS A PARTY (2)
  10. Mumen Writer

    Fate Points: Tutorial and Shop

    Hizorashi Masato Maximum Fate Point Balance | 13 - Reiatsu Benchmark 101k [8] - Re-surge Fate Points [3] - Achievements [2] Current Purchases | -12 First Focus: Agile-4 Second Focus: Visionary-8
  11. Mumen Writer

    Egriffiend's Night of Wailing [Event Arc]

    Masato wasn’t surprised at how poorly his humor was received by Kiri. Telling jokes, that weren’t juvenile, was an area he could’ve seriously worked on. Either way, it didn’t change the essential information Kiri would go on to share. The openness and attention Kiri gave when listening to his questions compelled Masato to return the favor, not that he wouldn’t have otherwise. Definitively crucial information came slowly from the shrine of disheartened men; it would take a fool to not heed the words of anyone who willingly shared what they knew. The reaction of shock that one of the employees of the shrine, of which there was only two, could’ve been an aide to Lady Tomoe, and even worse, had access to the cemetery records, caused Kiri to pause before he made a, presumably, incriminating statement. “Haruto-san keeps the records,” he spoke before quickly defending the accused, “he wouldn’t tamper with them.” Masato had long since cleared Haruto and his wife from his list of suspects. With the revelation of his record keeping, it was difficult to not suspect him once again, but Masato wouldn’t jump to the least charitable explanation there was. In his day job, of the few days bothered to come in, Masato also kept records of his family’s warehouse, thus there was an understanding that it was certainly possible that the tampering could’ve been done by anyone with unlimited access to the shrine… “Unlimited access to the shrine.” He thought to himself with a new hunch to follow. The history of the O-fuda’s, and small O-fuda for himself were the last things Kiri shared. Two more important details were derived from his explanation of the Talismans; they undoubtedly worked, and they were present before anyone else arrived. Masato bowed slightly and thanked Kiri for his transparency, and help in singling out the second employee of the shrine, who whispered alone as the Captain Shinigami approached him. “So he has him covered.” Masato said to himself while observing their brief interaction. He leaned forward, peering to see the gesture the lonely whisperer made. It was a point in the direction of another, an old man in the congregation of prayers. His attention towards the praying old man broke and went towards his masked ally, who wandered into the center of the shrine as he read a sheet of paper. A man near Connor suddenly exclaimed, “The o-fuda at the entrance was there when we arrived, it's different from the ones we have. That one protects the shrine grounds, these more personal." Masato had already connected those dots, and was more focused on the curious behavior of Tengu. The man would continue to speak, but his words played in the background as Masato observed all the signs around him, and where they pointed. The name KOTAEKŌRUYAMA and its relevance to the inception of this shrine did not escape the preoccupied Masato. He subconsciously connected “unlimited access to the shrine” with the person who rebuilt it from the start. But would HE really stay amidst the captors of the mist, and with no access to photos or records of his description, how could they tell if he was present anyway? The ability to process the new information further was impossible, as distracted as Masato was. From the sheet of paper to the individuals of the room, Tengu’s darting gaze was performing what was obviously an attendance check. At that same time Oriru was approaching the praying man he was guided to. The atmosphere grew deadly silent and time appeared to slow as his own, Captain Oriru’s, Connor’s, and now Tengu’s attention seemed fixated on the same praying man. A resolute thud was sounded upon Chizuru’s impact with the ground, pulling Masato’s eyes to where Tengu once stood. Followed by the sound of the shrine door breaking, which echoed in Masato’s highly alerted ears. Despite his better instincts, Masato would completely take his attention off the man who was at the center of their investigations. The time to react or say anything was too late. The Shrine’s Talisman had already been burnt to ash in masked-teen’s hand. This action triggered the influx of wailing mist into the shrine, engulfing their inviter first. In a final act of self will, Tengu would call out the words that dispelled any doubt Masato had for the old praying man, “IT’S HIM!” Masato opened his eyes, blinking several times to clear his blurry vision. A flash of Magenta was the last thing he could immediately recall before everything went black. The sequence of events before his sudden and brief moment of unconsciousness played backwards. Noticing the destruction of the shrine and the strong impact of that magenta flair, Masato’s concern for the others surrounding him grew more and more. Streaks and puddles of fresh blood were spread all across the dirt ground, along with the debris of the staff room’s walls and ceiling. Using his palms for assistance, Masato would begin to lift himself up when, through the foggy dust and scattered rubble, he locked eyes with a deceased Chiyo. He would’ve bothered to check her for any signs of life, but the wooden beam pierced through her chest and the contorted position of her neck assured him that her fate was sealed. “At least save Haruto, “he thought as he dug through the nearby ruble for any signs of a body. He would finally find the Haruto, but unfortunately in a condition far worse than his wife’s. The blast proved too powerful for the average human to block, as Haruto’s arms were completely blown off. The sharp dagger-like piece of wood stuck in his throat and the blood trailing from the sides of his mouth, Conveyed to Masato that he too was long gone. The failure to protect the two humans that were in his reach crippled Masato’s ability to think. The hatred and guilt that consumed his being hadn’t a target. Was he to blame, Tengu, Lady Tomoe, or… “It wasn't supposed to be this way.” An unfamiliar voiced exclaimed through the mist, and from the direction which the Magenta blast came. Masato hadn’t noticed the spirits of the recently deceased until they passed him in his grief, towards the voice which had just now spoken. One by one, their faint signatures disappeared, much to the confusion of Masato. The horrid realization of what had just occurred would come only as the voice spoke once more, "Let's call them the appetizers." The eerie calmness that came from his confusion suddenly escaped Masato, leaving him clear minded and providing a single target for his hatred and wrath. The gap in strength mattered not to him, nor did he calculate any risk to his own wellbeing, should he not possess the power to defeat the soul consuming monster. A shrieking growl was suddenly sounded as Masato approached the thing responsible for the magenta explosion, it bore some resemblance to the noises the frenzied wailers made. The reason wasn’t at all surprising to Masato, that the Tengu-masked teen was responsible for the noise. He and the old man, roughly 40 in age, fought briefly. The wild flailing of his bat and mist emitting from underneath his mask were clear signs that Tengu was now in the same position of the little girl wailer. However to Masato’s knowledge, she didn’t single handedly destroy the Talisman protecting them from the army of wailers. There was a sense of disgust that he fought along the side of the boy who played a role in the demise of so many. Up until the last magenta-infused punch, seeing Tengu fail was faintly cathartic. He prepared to assist Tengu when he heard the waste of spiritual molecules, Ito, speak, “We're taking this girl's body to the vortex!” from its dialogue and theory earlier, “the girl” was an obvious reference to the woman dear to Tengu. “Who the fuck do these guys think they are?” The voice of Connor behind him brought some relief that his other comrade hadn’t succumb to the explosion. Masato turned back to the foreigner to speak, “we have to do something about...” before he could complete his statement, an enraged Tengu would bounce back from the ground and rush pass him with his back still turned. Why he was ignored and Connor targeted, especially considering the Shinigami who scurried away with Chizuru, was beyond Masato’s understanding, but giving their strengths, the devastating impact of the collision was quite expected, but far too fast to completely block against. With the exception of the initial wave of their clash, Masato blocked the damage for himself and, to his surprise, a badly wounded Kiri. The young man would pull on Masato’s sleeve to catch his attention. All while smiling weakly and coughing blood, he called for Masato and placed a Talisman for Tengu in his hand. His final words before falling conscious, "Use it! Save... your friend!" Masato held tight to the Talisman and stood upright where he saw Connor swiftly take care of Tengu’s erratic movement. There were many ways Masato thought he could assist, but none were needed. Connor’s gaze invited Masato to place the Talisman he just received on the now unmasked teen. He trusted and accepted the foreigner’s offer. He walked over to Tengu when Connor spoke, informing the group of his plans to retrieve the masked woman. Masato was going to propose the same thing before Tengu attacked, so a simple nod was given to show that he too was in agreement with Connor’s decision. “I’ll back you up as soon as I’m certain the wounded are tended to.” Masato spoke before Connor suddenly departed. Masato gave a heavy sigh as he positioned himself in front of Tengu. He squatted to meet the kneeling teen face-to-face before placing the extra talisman of his right arm. He then grabbed the boy by the back of his head with his right hand and wined his own head back. *klock* the sound of two foreheads colliding could be heard as Masato head-butted his ally in frustration. “Get your shit together!” he demanded as a single stream of blood began pouring from where his forehead met Tengu’s. “They have your girlfriend, and with that stunt you pulled earlier, I can barely blame them.” Masato pointed with his thumb, to the direction of the Shinigami’s mayhem. “You owe us some explaining, but she’s a bit higher on our list of priorities.” With those words, he stood and flared his reiatsu to clear the mist enough to effectively search for any survivors of the explosion. Pacing his steps as to not miss anyone, he used his sensory abilities to detect reiatsu signatures and thoroughly sifted through the ruble with his cyan coat’s extra appendages. Altogether, he collected x amount of still breathing bodies, and took care of their wounds to the best of his ability. Some were fine as is, others required more urgent care if they were to make it through the night. With his fullbring, Masato created a pseudo cage to protect their bodies from any stray wailers. WC: 1810 EXPLOSIVE ENTRANCE (1000)+ COST OF PATH (1500)= 2500 ND LOSS CURRENT ND (7020-2500): 4570 (holy shit)
  12. Mumen Writer

    Not down enough.

    Seito’s warehouse – 8:00AM Masato stood in the center of the warehouse, dressed in his Cyan coat, above standard gym clothing. Not far away was Seito, clad in his usual grey suit. They both awoke late and hungover from last night’s binge drinking. Azami however, was much more adept at functioning through hangovers. She was up earlier than the rest and prepared a sobering breakfast to start their morning. After their meal, before going to work, Seito decided to have a sparring session with Masato. He left the task of training Masato to Azami, but with the evolution of his Fullbring and real combat experience, they both needed a higher standard to surpass. He feared they’d grow complacent as the gap between them was no longer significant. Masato conjured arms from his coat and gestured to the detective. “Aren’t you going to use your Fullbring too?” he asked with a slight smile, conveying smugness. He hadn’t sparred with Seito head on up until now, but presumed his strength was at least in the same league as Azami’s. He would come to realize how misguided his presumption was. Azami sat on a bench and spectated from the sidelines of the gym space. With a cigarette in her mouth she clapped and cheered for Masato, “he’s underestimating you kid, don’t let him get away with it!” Seito turned to his girlfriend dumbfounded “you’re supposed to be supporting me.” “Pfft, I root for the underdogs.” Azami countered with a shrug. Masato was excited to see how his Fullbring fared against Seito, and wanted his attention on their fight, “you’re already an hour late for work man. ‘Think we have time for this?" Masato tried to taunt Seito into going all out. “You’re right, but I’m not using my Fullbring. Besides...” Seito replied, facing Masato once again. With his knees bent, his left fist aiming towards Masato, and the other at his waist, he assumed a fighting stance. “I prefer fair fights.” “Heh,” Masato chuckled before his face turned straight and he leapt towards his sparring opponent. He paced his steps carefully as to use the ideal range of his Fullbring. He learnt this important lesson from Azami. (When you have the range advantage against your opponent, it is good practice to not abuse it. Firstly, you don’t have the speed to retract your arms fast enough to block counters should your opponent evade. Keep the range close enough to make the most of your natural speed. Secondly, you can catch your opponent off guard. Lead them to believe they are safe at a certain distance, and when they least expect it, got em!) The second reason didn’t apply to Seito, or anyone else who understood the properties of his cyan coat. But he very much needed his speed against the orange-haired detective. Masato’s Fullbring was fluid and perfect for adapting to situations. Good footing, accurate strikes, attention to balance, calculating distance between oneself and their opponent, and many other concepts of combat; all were considerably easy for him when his coat was equipped. Power comes from the ground up. As demonstrated against Charles, he could use his tail to keep balanced and to the ground, and return to it should he find himself inflight. His multiple appendages lessen the risk of counters should he miss his target. With his real arms he could prioritize blocking while striking with the cyan ones. Their seemingly endless reach made distance calculations less crucial. All these advantages were compiled considering he was currently combating an unarmed human. But there was a weapon he hadn’t been exposed to yet. One that his opponent would seemingly conjure from thin air. With his cyan right hand making a sweep for Seito’s legs, and his left one horizontally swinging at Seito’s chest, Masato thought his opening approach was simple but effective for taking the detective off balance. (If he chooses to recede, I'll press the attack; if he comes closer, block long enough to restrain him with my Fullbring.) Seito’s smirk never left his face. With his innocent and jolly expression, he would show is disciple how far they were apart. His nonchalant attitude to life would lead one to underestimate his dedication to fighting, or anything for that matter. However, the gift of martial arts passed on from his father was to not be taken lightly. Seito would get into the zone when in combat, with a focus sharper than any blade. Quotes like, “To blink was to forfeit against this young prodigy,” and the like were common for anyone skilled enough to face a young Seito. Unlike Masato, he needed his legs to keep balance; so avoiding the sweep was crucial. With a short but fast counterclockwise twist of his left foot, he summoned a translucent barrier of orange Reiatsu. (So he's using his Fullbring after all?)The rectangular shield was purposely positioned with a slant to redirect the sweep. The strength to stop Masato’s attacks head on was perhaps too much for gafu of that caliber to block. Besides, redirecting your opponent’s attacks provided more opportunities for counters. By not bluntly stopping Masato’s arm’s momentum, Masato himself would have to. Realistically, the window to capitalize off this kind of parry was mere seconds, if not less. But in serious battles, those milliseconds could mean victory or defeat. With the sweep successfully avoided, Seito ducked forward smoothly and impossibly low, completely avoiding the attack aimed at his chest. He followed the weaving motion of his duck to raise his torso again. Then, with a right punch faster than Masato could process, Seito would make his first offensive move by creating another rectangular barrier; only now it was positioned horizontally and, presumably, pushed by Seito’s punch, into Masato’s stomach. Masato hadn’t the time to spare if he didn’t want to tank the barrier attack head on. Giving his defensive capabilities, it was certainly a cost effective option. But if Seito was anything like his girlfriend, Azami, then he wouldn’t let up his assault. The recoil from blocking was Azami’s favorite window to rush her opponents. Masato decided to deflect the attack by raising his left elbow and pushing the barrier from its bottom side into the air. There was a brief push back in as a reaction to meeting Seito’s barrier move, but it was too soon to exploit. Furthermore Masato pressed on with a full powered leap; performing a bringer light and blitzing behind Seito. He was attacking with a downward kick to his opponent’s head. He gripped the ground with his Fullbring hands as a contingency for if his target was somehow fast enough to flee; He would press from the ground to follow. His teacher was much less reliant on close combat than he initially suspected; as such, Masato tried to keep him reactive, and unable to shoot barriers. The bringer Light and repositioning of Masato did not impress Seito, who had seen his disciple’s fighting pattern on many occasions. Rushing and striking his opponent from behind was Masato’s go-to action, and its effectiveness certainly did not escape him. However against opponents faster than himself, the move could backfire horribly. (Never rush yourself to attack your opponent. The initiator only holds an advantage when the second party is not expecting. If you recklessly strike at all openings, you submit yourself to chance and whatever your opponent has yet to reveal. Always assume your opponent has a trump card.) Of the only options Masato left available, Seito chose none. Instead, he jumped into Masato’s kick, allowing it to land atop his shoulder, before it could build momentum to cause any harm. With the immediate threat of attack no longer present, Seito would grasp the leg on his shoulder with both hands and swing Masato forward, throwing him into the ground in the process. The pavement of the warehouse would crack underneath the impact of Masato’s body being slammed into it. He landed on his back first with the back of his head following. His body’s freakish durability, compounded with his cyan coat made sustaining damage easily avoidable. He wasn’t aware of it, as he never witnessed Seito’s full strength, but with his current defense capabilities, none of his teachers had the sufficient strength to actually harm him. He couldn’t compete against their speed, but the protection of his coat made even their strongest attacks obsolete. With that said, Seito was under no delusion that raw strength was the only determining factor when in battle; had it been so, he would’ve succumbed to the gripping jaws of the many hollows he’d slain. Every being has a weak spot, and with so little real fighting experience, Masato had many. “I think that should be enough for now.” The orange haired victor proposed as he smiled and extended his hand to Masato, offering to help him back to his feet. Masato quickly bounced back up own his own before requesting to continue, “Are you sure? I can keep going.” He dusted himself off quickly and assumed a fighting stance to show he was ready. “Yeah, there was a lot of commotion last night at one of the train stops. I don’t want to upset my colleague by being late. I’ll leave you with this; real life fights aren’t like those in your favorite battle Shonen. Flashy air kicks and other telegraphic moves do waste time, opportunities, and will be exploited. Jumping into the air behind me like that is a quick way to get a cero blasted through your chest. You don’t have the speed to surprise me, nor to catch me, should I choose to run. If ever you find yourself against an opponent who outclasses you, especially in speed, hold your ground, observe their subconscious patterns if possible, and prioritize counters. They will expose themselves the most while they are striking.” “Understood.” Masato’s reply was short as to not hold Seito any longer. He was curious about the translucent barriers, but elected to hold his questions for Azami later. He recalled his fullbring’s limbs, thus restoring his coat to its natural state, before taking it off and rearranging the gym equipment of the warehouse. It was how he kept from third-wheeling Seito and Azami; allowing them to do their lovey-dovey couple stuff before he went off to work. *shik, shik* Azami lit herself a cigarette as Seito had since left, and it was her turn to beat some lessons into Masato. She took a single deep inhale through her cig before speaking, “Alright, alright, have a seat. Class is in session.” He hadn’t completed his tidying task but knowing how frequently the warehouse got disorganized, it didn’t bother him. With a white towel wrapped around his neck, he sat cross legged before his teacher. Normally, when he wasn’t being tormented by her Fullbring, he sat quiet and absorbed whatever info dump she offered him. But the techniques deployed by Seito clouded his mind too much to not inquire about them. She went to speak but before she could complete her first word, he interjected, “what technique did he use to deflect my attacks? He even threw one at me.” Azami’s plans for this days lessons were long, as such she didn’t want to spend time on unrelated things. She figured giving her usually silent student a concise answer would satisfy his curiosity and allow smooth sailing for the rest of her scholarly lecture, ”it’s a basic form of gafu. He’s pretty good at it. As I was saying—““what’s Gafu? Have you used it yet, or taught me any?” Masato wouldn’t relent about the Technique he once assumed was exclusively available to Seito. The string of questions he hurled Azami’s way were a sign of her failure to understand her disciple. She growled from frustration before reluctantly explaining, “Gafu is a broad term that’s mostly used to describe the manipulation of one’s reiatsu. Think, the Shinigami kido you’ve seen from Yuuto. Most people who have an affinity for Reiatsu based techniques can pick up gafu quite easily. As for my usage of it, if you can recall the night we first met, the ball of reiatsu I shot you with, that was also basic Gafu. You aren’t hardwired for it though; your reiatsu’s too violent, and you suck at controlling it. It’s why the first thing we taught you was how to subdue it. You did a number on Seito’s car the first time you unleashed it, remember?” The fateful night when he received the news of how his wife died was one he hadn't fully recovered from. The dreadful emotions that overcame him then were beginning to brew inside him again. But rather then anger, Masato dropped his head in a faint and helpless sorrow. He lost all the enthusiasm for learning “Too soon I guess,”Azami thought to herself. She handled sappiness best when she didn’t at all. Instead she tried to power through with positivity and uplift his spirit again, “what do y’know, that’s a great Segway into what I wanted to start today. I think its time you’ve upgraded your Fullbring, into its complete form. But this warehouse can’t take that kinda beating; so we might be relocating for this specific training. ‘Got any place in mind.it has to be vast and pretty far away from civilization. “ Suddenly she quickly reached into the right back pocket of her jeans and pulled from it her lighter, her object of affinity, from which she hastily released her fullbring, Burning to quench. Masato would also rush to and put on his cyan coat. Their similar actions was a sign that they both sensed the same thing. The threatening aura of a wild beast. From its pacing and gradual increase in intensity, the pair assumed they were specifically being targeted. An uneasiness fell upon them as the negative aura became more concentrated at the front entrance of the warehouse. They couldn’t be sure, but it felt as if they were being watched through the sliding steel gate. They readied themselves for the beast’s inevitable attack, but as the gate burst open, a sense of relief and confusion would befall Masato, and even more so, Azami. “AH HA, you thought I couldn’t sense you?!” the, once assumed beast, turned out to seemingly be a normal human. He was brutish, almost a foot taller than Masato, and scars could be seen anywhere his tight, white, T-shirt and blue loose fitting jeans didn’t cover. Additionally the hostile aura the stranger emitted turned warm and friendly the moment his eyes locked onto Masato. His jaw dropped in awe rendering himself speechless. Masato would be the one to break the brief and awkward silence between the trio, “Dad?! What are you doing here?” He asked, causing Azami to turn her attention away from the intruder and to her disciple, “what the fuck is going on?” she thought to herself. Normally she spoke what came to her mind but she elected to hold her tongue and let the alleged father, son duo carry the conversation, and maybe provide her with answers. She was most curious about the father’s reiatsu. The intruder would walk closer to Masato before answering, in an almost yell, “Its been a long time son! I came back from my business trip last night; your mother said you spend your days in this area lately! I thought I’d pay you a visit when suddenly I felt… Never mind! Look at you; you’ve gotten huge!” He would stop walking once he reached Masato, hugged him tightly, and turned to the woman on standby. His giant and tough as nails right hand would dwarf and engulf hers as they shuck hands. “Oh and you must be the esteemed Fujiwara Azami, the one in charge of whiping him into shape. You have my sincerest Gratitude.” The giant man followed his handshake with a deep and passionate bow. “Azami, this is Hizorashi Kosuke, my father.” Masato gestured towards Kosuke, while introducing him. Azami’s face bore a smug grin ever since the man mentioned his return from a “business trip”. “So you’re papa Hizorashi, the business man huh? What exactly do you do on your long trips away?” she asked attempting to corner him. Kosuke was a suspicious character in her eyes, and obviously hid much from even Masato. Why her disciple didn’t question the previously raging reiatsu emitting from his own father? She chalked it up to his understandable joy in seeing his father for the first time in years. Either way, she would catch him in a lie, and force him to quell her suspicions. “Oh, the business trips are just a front! For two decades I’ve been torturing some monster for its lucky teeth! It’s how we Hizorashi’s have lifted our curse!” “WHAT?!” Masato shouted with shock. Azami would nonchalantly add, with an almost disappointed tone of voice, “wow, that’s all it took for you to crack. lame.” Her quip was quite belittling to Masato’s state of disbelief. “After I captured the Kin no kuma, its monster friends took him for an easy meal! I’ve spent most of my time away, defending him from his own kinfolk! It was quite depressing! He kicked the bucket recently and all the collected teeth I had disappeared, along with his corpse! Now, why did I sense the presence of one of those things from you both?!” Kosuke answered and questioned Azami specifically. Masato’s sights alternated between Azami and his father, as they make quick exchanges and spoke with each other candidly, as if they were long time acquaintances. “You can detect the similarities in reiastsu between us Fullbringers and hollows, pretty impressive. Your sons inherited hollow-like abilities, most likely from all the exposure you’ve had to them. We’re currently training him in preparation for avenging Asuna.” Kosuke crossed his arms and stroked his beard with his gaze directed to the floor. He pondered, “Hmm, I should’ve known one of them was involved. How can I help kill that Bastard?!” “You said you held a hollow captive. Wherever you did so, should be safe enough for your son to complete his Fullbring.” (what a coincidence.) “I still have many questions but they can wait! I’d like to spend the rest of today with my family! We can head out first thing in the morning.” “Agreed.” WC: 3050
  13. Mumen Writer

    tales from the world of the living

    THE LEGEND Long ago, in a forest far out of the bounds of human civilization, there existed a legend. A mystical bat and bear hybrid. It was said that this otherworldly creature would haunt and terrorize the citizens of Karakura. Gathering its food for winter hibernation. Though disappearances occurred, most skeptics doubted the validity to sightings of a large purple bear with tiny webbed bat wings. Investigations of the incidents all proved fruitless. Perhaps it was close-minded “experts” that used what little knowledge of nature they had, to rule out what they thought were impossibilities. Missing foot prints, zero surveillance footage, no blood trails, etc., the list went on. Could you blame humanity for their feeble understanding of the supernatural? I cert— “Old lady, he just wants to know his future.” a young man exclaimed, interrupting the old fortune teller whilst she spoke to another. Collectively in the garage, which acted as both her place of work and living quarters, she had three customers. All male high school students; all very confident. But the one sitting closest to her, legs crossed and attentive, stood out very much so. On his face was a brimming smile. His eyes burned all that they gazed upon with overwhelming passion. The innocence he conveyed brought some sorrow to the lady as, from the state of his school uniform alone, it was clear that like many others in that area, he lived in poverty. “Yeh, like is he eva gonna make it big? Rich enough t’ get outta this hell hole?” the other standing kid asked from behind his sitting friends. “Quiet you two! Let her speak!” the sitting boy demanded of his pals before nodding to the old lady to continue. His politeness was the last straw in her ability to take his money. In truth, she made ends meet by scamming those foolish enough to believe her tall tales and fake fortune telling. “I’m sorry kid. I can’t tell you what god has in store for your future. But for what it’s worth, I pray it’s at least a fraction of what your kind heart deserves.” She confessed and waited for the boys reply. Anger, perhaps a scolding for wasting his time; she expected and welcomed it all. “I could’ve told you that man. She’s a total waste of time.” The insult of one of the teens in the background irked her to the point that she quickly began throwing things at him. The two chuckled and retreated from her shop, leaving their friend inside alone. The woman sighed heavily before taking a seat once again. “I have no more tales for you young man. You can have this for your time.” The women placed an exceptionally long fang in the boy’s hand. Hints of the color purple grew from its base, where a brown string necklace was connected. The fangs size was comparable to that of a dagger. “You seemed interested in that bear fable. That is said to be a tooth it lost in its latest visit to this town. The story goes that by killing it, you’ll free the souls of all its victims, and in turn, they bless you with real fortune.” “WOAH! Jackpot!” in her conversation, she failed to notice the other boys who managed to sneak back inside the shop, rudely interrupting her once again. The passionate sitting boy turned to his friends smiling with a friendly yet stern voice. “C’mon guys, she sent you out!” “Sorry boss, sorry. But can ya hurry up some?” the less eloquently spoken friend pleaded as he exited the garage. “Uh hum!” the “boss” nodded with approval. The two goons stood outside waiting for their leader. He would soon after exit but not before turning to the old lady and bowing passionately. “Thank you!” he softly shouted while his head prostrated. “No, you were great company. feel free to drop by for a chat. I'll prepare you something to eat.” She responded. He raised his head with the same wide and genuine smile that brought tears to her eyes long after he left. “Don't waste your prayers on me. My mother needs them more.” just as he spoke those words, he left her shop. His accomplices noticed the necklace and rightfully asked him, “You don’t actually believe in her garbage do you? She even admitted to scamming us.” he quickly reassured them after some chuckles, “of course not you idiots. She obviously made that all up.” “Huh~, then why did you bring us here?” Two weeks later The passionate boss walked shirtless and barefooted upon the wet green moss and tree twigs that made the grounds of this infamous forest; the alleged dwelling of this purple bear-bat. Greenery and tall tree trunks stretched as far as his eyes could see. The necklace gift he received was wrapped around his neck and he carried two thin tree trunks above his right shoulder. They were too heavy to comfortably lift off the ground, so he let their branchy ends drag. The forest that he wandered for four nights was a week of travel away from Karakura by foot; his only mode of transportation. Unlike most his age, he did not spend the summer vacation in ease. Rather he took the free time from school as an opportunity to pursue any means he could to cure his mother’s illness. At first, his routine was odd jobs and double shifts for her medication and hospital visits. But what little of Modern medicine his measly wages could afford, all proved ineffective. Desperate for answers, he began to believe in superstitions. For him, it was the family curse. The sins of his ancestors haunting their offspring; ceasing only after the family name perished. His father’s early passing and mothers constantly deteriorating health, only the most recent of the many tragedies that date back to at least ten generations. But this summer, he resolved himself to break his family curse, or die in the process. In the four days that he patrolled the forest, there were many sightings of unfamiliar tracks. In addition to strands of purple fur wedged between tree barks. These sightings helped him remain focused and hopeful that his encounter with the beast he searched for would come sooner than never. The wood from the trees he cut down and rope woven from bark fibers were essential to the traps he was making. His odds of winning head on against a bear were quite slim, much less a supernatural one. His plan was simple, lure the beast through a series of traps to weaken it. Then deliver the killing blow to its heart. One day later, Midnight The yellow moon’s light seeped through the thick layer of leaves atop the forest, just enough to illuminate the trail the young man took in his escape from the beast he hunted for. Behind him treaded the purple bat-bear, roaring with anticipation for its free meal. The imaginings of villagers all failed to capture just how grotesque it truly was. The white skull-like mask that served as its head was somehow the most esthetically pleasing thing about it, even with its missing canine. Its purple fur had almost completely shed off, exposing its pink and veiny skin underneath. Its underbelly consisted of wormlike organisms, which were capable of absorbing anything they touched. Perhaps that ability was responsible for the lack of traces to all its victims. Whatever the case, the young man hadn’t the time for solving puzzles. The traps he made proved unsuccessful, as the branches and rope all fused into the abyss that was its stomach. Furthermore, the young man caught a glimpse of where he intended to pierce his targets heart earlier. But in its place was naught but a hollow hole. The plan was a complete failure and the only thing on his mind was escaping to strategize a new one. However with the pace and ferocity his predator approached, escape was very unlikely. The human’s only advantage was his smaller size, which allowed him to scurry between spots that the beast was compelled to break through. But unfortunately, his blind running would eventually corner him into a stone wall, the base of a tall mountain. His brain raced for solutions and ideas on how to proceed. Climbing the wall wasn’t impossible, but out climbing a bear in his state seemed to fantastical. Should he run left or right? They were options, but it would only prolong the inevitable. With his remaining energy, he resolved himself to fight to the death, if need be. He turned to around to face his chaser, bearing its canine as his only weapon. The bear would emerge from the branches slowly, cackling as green translucent saliva gushed from its dangling tongue. The young man was frightened enough as is, but the beast’s following actions would truly send chills down his spine. “huehuehue, givin’ up on running are we? I was only just warming up. You’ve brought me my missing lost tooth, so I’ll make your death a quick one. Do we have a deal?” “…” “Well speak up. You didn’t come all the way here to say nothing right.” “…you… you’ve eaten many humans! But I’m here for selfish reasons! I won’t lie and say I’m sorry. I have to kill you, and I will.” The bear sucked its teeth to convey its disappointment. “So you’re gonna make me work for my meal? I was startin to like you too.” It lowered its body, positioning to bounce at its target. The young man grasped the parted canine of his attacker, before roaring defiantly at his toughest opponent, his accursed fate. That night would be a long one. 25 days later, Karakura High school “Welcome back, I hope you’ve all had a refreshing summer break and are prepared to face this semester head on. Today…“, “Sensei, where da hell’s our boss?!” “Yeah, missing a day of school isn’t his style.” “(Please don’t interrupt me). Of all people I thought you two would know. Did you not visit his mother?” “Too depressing” “Tell me about it.” “Well she’s been making a shocking recovery. Its our Hizorashi-kun that you should be worrying about. He was attacked by some wild animal while hiking.” The screeching of a student’s chair against the classroom floor, followed by said student’s high and feminine voice, silenced the classroom briefly. “HIZORASHI-KUN?!” “Fuyumi-san, somethin up?” “Sorry… I was just worried.” “no, no, I should’ve led with something more positive. His body was found on the outskirts of Karakura, he’s currently hospitalized and in stable condition. We should all pay him a visit and send him get well-cards.” The class room simultaneously responded, “hai!” Three decades later, Night Two individuals spoke through the phone. One in the comfort of her warm home, and the other in the chilling cold of a forest. “Are you sure you won’t be making it to young Asuna’s funeral. She’s your daughter in-law and I’m sure our Masato would like to see you. You’ve been on that business trip since Reina’s birth. We all miss you.” “Our boy is strong like his mother! He’ll be fine with just you there! And I miss you all too. I’ll finish up on this project and be on my way home! I promise!” “I love you.” “I love you too sweetie. Goodnight!” *beep* “Hey, HEY! I pull your teeth for good fortune, and some scumbag kills my daughter-in-law?! Is this not working anymore?!” The once frail young man was now extremely large, muscular, and covered from head to toe with scars. his fluffy dark blue hair was unkept, and despite the freezing breezes of the wind, he sat shirtless and barefoot. He threw his old necklace, which now held more than five teeth, to a cowering and starved purple creature, who pressed itself against the stone base of a familiar mountain. Its thick ribs were clearly visible through the pink skin of which they stretched. Through its thighs and biceps were thick wooden pins that prevented any large movement. “Kill… me…” it began to cry, “please.” “Ok, but I need you to open wide first!” WC:2025
  14. Mumen Writer

    Egriffiend's Night of Wailing [Event Arc]

    Masato saw the response of Haruto to be quite the overreaction. He felt his suspicions of Kiri were at the very least, a little valid. He even presented the man an opportunity to clear Kiri's name. He sat and pondered about the interaction, what things he could’ve said differently and how he would proceed from there. “Wait.” It suddenly dawned on him that, upon discovering he was an employee of the cemetery, his approach to questioning Haruto was reminiscent of Tenzaimon and Karuko’s. He cringed at even the thought of comparing himself to them. He decided to at least pursue the couple for an apology, but their approaching Mr. Kiri presented a more pressing matter. “Oh boy.” He muttered as Kiri walked over. “…Haruto-san tells me you have some questions? –For the sake of trying to keep the peace I'm willing to answer any questions you have. So, please. Ask away." “Firstly, sorry for your lost. But hopefully you can understand that for a situation as stressful as this, your cool demeanor would raise a few brows. Perhaps you should panic a little more.” Masato made a brief and forced chuckle to indicate his last clause was in fact a very funny joke. “Ahem, I do have some questions for you. The name Tomoe has been completely torn from the cemetery records. (If we survive this, maybe they should go digital.) It happened recently, and we suspect it was the doing of a cemetery employee, or employees. Any ideas what that’s about? Also that talisman, what makes you believe that, against all else, it’s the thing keeping us safe? Who made it, who put it up, and who convinced you of its effectiveness?” WC: 280
  15. Mumen Writer

    Egriffiend's Night of Wailing [Event Arc]

    Masato was understanding of the man’s immediate reaction to his arrival and sudden string of inquires. He was a stranger after all, interrupting his and his wife’s grieving with open ended questions. He too, would’ve preferred his last moments in the embrace of his family and in peace. However, Masato had no intention of sitting in pity, awaiting for the wailers to take what they had failed to many times prior. He would fight until his last breath until he was sure Lady Tomoe was surely exterminated. Masato overheard the conversation between Connor and the gunslinger known as Treynor . The suspicions on the Cemetery employees was an important lead for him, who only suspected Kiri as of that moment. "You're welcome to sit with us, Hizorashi-san." “Oh thank you.” Masato’s mind stopped wandering and he sat down to speak. The wife introduced herself as Chiyo and her husband as Haruto, before she explained why they were both present in the cemetery. Haruto’s weeping grew heavier with guilt. The conversation geared towards the topic of the jolly Kiri, who in everyone’s panic, remained calm and cheerful. Haruto expressed his trust and faith in Mr. Kiri. The sudden revelation froze Masato in place as his mind scrabbled. “Was all this crying just a ruse? If so then why would someone guilty so easily implicate themselves?” Masato thought briefly on how to proceed without causing the man to turn defensive. Should he pick the wrong words, it come mean losing the edge they had on whoever sought to sabotage their investigation. Losing his soft tone, a sterness could be heard in Masato's words as he leaned closer to the man and gazed resolutely in his face. “I’ll be frank with you both. Myself and those gentlemen—“he gestured to Connor and Tengu, “Have come here to end this nightmare. This mist and the disappearances of many on the night of Halloween has been a reoccurring event for the past three years and I trust that you’re innocent Haruto-san. We arrived at this shrine looking for a women by the name of Tomoe. Perhaps you’ve heard of her.” He waited and observed for any reaction before continuing. “Someone with special connections to this cemetery is hiding information pertaining to her existence and I wholeheartedly suspect our Mr. Kiri’s involvement. Prove me wrong. Have you noticed any strange behavior from a colleague in the past few days? Think hard, we need all the information we can get.” WC: 410