▌Losing Heads [Empty/Sobiru]

[ami]

LIVE LIFE BACKWARDS && FACE DOWN.

Notice me. Find me. Fight me. Bleed.

Shiori was the name Valentia had given her. Beforehand, she was always referred to as The Insane One. Although she was the clinical definition of insane, she still had her wits about her. It was an odd oxymoron—a smart insane person. Although her thoughts were rampant and her speech was scattered across a variety of different subjects simultaneously, she was completely aware. And completely observant. Shiori was the Guard. She was stationed in order to hold back any Shinigami who came close to reaching Valentia's base. Valentia had told Shiori specifically that killing any threats—or bystanders, really—was not a problem. The Murmur had been given the OK to go on a killing spree and slice the necks of any Shinigami that happened across her. Those poor, unfortunate souls.

"Clip the neck. Not too tight. No, never too tight. Don't want mother to worry about the blood stains. No way to erase what's done. It's here. Come, now."

Shiori was stationed in a small, abandoned park in the Eastern district of Karakura Town. She swung slowly on the swing set, her head rested against the right chain link. Her eyes held a level of apathy for the moment. She was bored. Unshed blood was making her skin crawl. She wanted to pierce flesh. She wanted to hear screams of agony. She wanted to see them writhe on the ground in excruciating pain. Shiori was a sadist, but it was rare that she drew her torturing out for very long. Only playing with her enemies briefly, she killed them quickly. It was the moment they died that made her giddy inside. It made a smile break across her face, eyes wild with pleasure like she was stuck in her personal euphoria and asylum at the same time. There were two approaching Shinigami, and the petite—5'3" 105lbs—Murmur remained on the swing, swinging back and forth dreamily.

They weren't able to sense her, yet they had stumbled across her nonetheless. Oh what a pity it was.

[Sobiru Saiyo]

Saiyo was out of his gigai, calmly walking through the Eastern district of Karakura Town. He had left Hidenseido for the moment, he had a bit of wanderlust for the moment that he figured would be satisfied by going on patrol. He didn't really want to be seen or even interact with anyone, he just figured that it was a beautiful day for a walk. The Sun shone with a beautiful intensity and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Being holed up in Hidenseido, constantly training was getting tiresome. His eyes flickered towards a green haired girl on a swing set in a park.

Humans sure do some strange things these days...

He couldn't get over the markings on her face, there just seemed to be something wrong here. He entered the park, walking warily with a smile upon his face. He realized that her eyes seemed to be following him and he was a bit shocked. It was well known that Karakura Town was full of spiritually aware humans, but he had never actually met one. Maybe he had just found a new friend in this strange place then, he was tired of having to train alone anyway. As he continued walking, he stood up straight and smiled slightly wider, hoping to make a good impression.

She's kinda cute besides the weirdo make-up, but I can get past that, I guess. he thought to himself.

"Saiyo, she's a girl! They're yucky!" Kodomo-no gikyoku said, his childish voice echoing in Saiyo's mind.

Saiyo laughed a bit and walked over to the swing set, sitting in the swing directly next to the girl. "Hey," he said, smiling his most attractive smile. "I'm Sobiru Saiyo, nice to meet you."

All at once, he realized that there was a problem and his eyes widened slightly. He didn't feel any reiatsu coming from her. From what he had been told, he knew that even the slightest spiritually aware beings gave off reiatsu. He looked into her eyes and the answer screamed in his head:

"That isn't a human, you idiot! What the hell are you doing?!" his inner hollow yelled.

[Empty]

A rare event saw Haruki momentarily leaving his classes in the Shinigami academy, instead he was to perform his duties as a member of the Onmitsukidō's Keigun. He had received notification of his orders as he had dined the night before and had barely enough time to notify the academy that he was 'sick' and would be needing a substitute for the next day's classes; like others in the Onmitsukidō, he had made good use of their members within the Fourth Division to arrange for the suitable paper work to back up his claims. It was not the interruption to his Instructor duties by the Onmitsukidō that was rare, rather what was unusual was that he had been sent to the human realm as a member of the Keigun, who usually focused their efforts within Soul Society itself and on rarer occasions acted as scouts in the ongoing struggles against the Hollows.

He had been given a gigai at the same time, apparently the attire had been selected after previous choices such as a business man or tourist had been hastily abandoned. Standing there in his open necked blue button up shirt with a black suit, the heavy golden chain and wrist watch, his scarred scalp and intense, slightly irritated expression was an almost diabolic match for the image his superiors had deemed best suited him – one of the Japanese Yakuza. Had anyone managed to see the tanto, concealed in his right sleeve, it would have merely fit the image all the more, few would have realised that this was Haruki's Zanpakutou, unless they knew he was a shinigami to begin with.

Less than pleased with the choice in disguise, Haruki kicked a can on the ground, sending it flying through the air and into the bin neatly, his irritation was a thing to be reckoned with – neither blinding, burning anger nor explosive rage; a truly dangerous cold fury. His orders were to rendezvous with another Shinigami to pick up some vital information from an informant on the possible location of a Shinigami defector; this park was one of the locations that had been named as pick-up sites, for Haruki was one of at least three possibly more, Shinigami who had received the same mission. It was just as likely that the Onmitsukidō had chosen one of the other sites, merely sending Haruki here in an attempt to mislead potential enemy operatives.

From the other side of the park there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on, Haruki craned his head slightly to see.

[ami]

A stagnant film hazed over Shiori's multicolored eyes. The man who had approached her was a Shinigami, and a stupid one at that. But whether he was an idiot or not, he was a killable object. That was all that really mattered to her. Hell, Valentia's "goal" meant absolutely squat to Shiori. The only reason she was so enthusiastic and willing was because she knew she would be able to extract the pain and get the high of killing innocents that she couldn't get in Hell.

She would play this one by ear, for his sake.

"Help."

Her voice came out in a pathetic whimper, and she tried to put on the facade of a damsel in distress. Even though the nature of it was completely foreign to her, she felt her acting skills were above par. But as her mind jumped tracks, she decisively through the ploy out the window. Her lips cracked into a wide grin, spreading across her face. The colors in her eyes hardened and life ignited inside of them. She reached out, as if in desperation, to grab the front of his clothing.

"Yes, help me! Help me Shinigami! Save my soul from damnation. Save me from the tyranny I may yet undergo in the fiery pits of the most inner circle of Hell!" Laughter filled her eyes, and her face was flush. "Oh wait. I forgot. Shinigami aren't that competent. Stupid, anserine souls!"

Her eyes averted to the near distance, and she spotted the pressure she'd felt. It was buried beneath a suppressor -- a gigai presumably, or perhaps the man's own person doings. She glanced back to Saiyo, then to the other unknown Shinigami once again. Running her tongue across the top of her lip, she betrayed her toothy grin to the both of them, a hungry beast baring its teeth in an aggressive promise: she'd kill them.

[Sobiru Saiyo]

In his heart of hearts, her whimper brought out the most sympathetic part of him. It was his nature to want to save the damsel in distress. But as the woman's hand clutched his clothing, he felt wrong. His head was on fire, purely because he now understood her to be a threat. But was that really the only reason? What if this was the power of... whatever the hell she is? He attempted to tear away from her, walking backwards as he refused to take his eyes off of her.

He would've been offended by her words if it wasn't for the fact that he was no longer a shinigami. The honor of the Gotei 13 was no longer something for him to worry about, his loyalty laid with Hidenseido's members. But as he looked at her, he realized that she was oftentimes looking elsewhere. He turned slowly, trying his best to see whatever the hell she was looking at.

Is this some kind of bullshit trap? he thought to himself, until he felt the inkling of reiatsu that the girl must have noticed. He stared the man in the black suit and suddenly felt relived that he still wore his shihakusho. It was the reiatsu of a shinigami, though it was almost imperceptible. He turned his attention to the girl once again, looking at the bestial grin that she gave.

It was now that he realized the freedom of being a vizard, he could leave this spot without a care in the world and leave it to the man in the suit. The only thing that kept him rooted to this spot was pure curiosity. As he met her eyes once again, he smirked.

"I don't know what the hell you are..." he said, unsheathing his zanpakuto. "But I plan on finding out what color your blood is."

"Let's see what you can do."he said. He wasn't sure if the words were aimed at her or himself.

[Empty]

Haruki finally managed to spot the pair, the petite blond had grasped the clothes of a towering 'man' with long white hair and was saying something to the man, who seemed slightly taken aback at her excited words. From his current position Loki could easily spot the man's ragged Shinigami garb, his shihakusho torn in several places, his energy felt slightly unusual, though Haruki could not quite place the reason for it. On the other hand from the woman, Haruki felt nothing, she seemed most adroit at concealing her reiatsu.

As the woman peeked at Haruki briefly, he assumed that the two were talking about him, this understanding further underlined by the glance of the tall man. Obviously the pair had noticed his presence, Haruki had been taking care to avoid being overly noisy with his reiatsu, such was a given for any member of the Onmitsukidō, yet either had managed to notice him; that the woman had done so first meant that in all likely hood she was more sensitive than her companion.

Still, Haruki had been led to believe that there would only be one informant, and the fact that the shinigami was without a Gigai meant that the man was unlikely to be the one Haruki was supposed to meet, was it the girl then? Or had the informant been discovered and killed, with these two sent to take care of any loose ends? The possibility of a coincidence occurred to Haruki, though it seemed unlikely.

Still, with his task unfinished, Haruki had no choice but to determine what the outcome of his mission might be. Beginning to walk towards the pair quite leisurely, he kept his eye open for signs of enemy ambush – the two before him were an unknown and unknowns were dangerous. As he sauntered almost arrogantly across towards them as a Yakuza might be expected, Haruki thumbed the box in his right hand pocket, pulling out the small tube of 'breath-mints.'

As the tall man drew his ludicrously long zanpkautou, Haruki realised that there was most definitely something afoot, opening his mouth Haruki tossed back one of the pills. Within an instant Haruki's soul ejected itself forwards from his gigai, out of the chest and limbs like pushing through smoke. Behind him the Yakuza straightened slightly, and after a cursory glance towards Haruki was on it's way, hands moving to it's pockets as it strode down the path, away from the confrontation while maintaining an almost thuggish demeanour.

Unlike the other 'shinigami,' Haruki made no move towards his zanpakutou just yet, instead circling to the side as he studied the two warily through narrowed eyes. His bald, scarred head only serving to emphasise the piercing look he gave both, “How unusual,” Haruki observed idly, his voice cool and melodious, the tall man with his aggressive stance, the young woman with her almost lewd smile, his walk had brought him close enough to the pair that her ability to continue to hide her reiatsu was most startling, she would need to be extraordinarily skilled to manage such a thing. “I hadn't expected to meet such interesting people in the Human World.”

[ami]

Shiori stared at Haruki quizically as he approached. She was unaware of his attitude and personality, but judging by the I'm-stoic-and-nonchalant-so-I-must-be-cool look on his face, she categorized him with little effort. Saiyo took absolutely no effort on Shiori's part. When he spoke, she found herself laughing richly and slapping her knee in what would have been sarcasm but appeared to be genuine hysteria. Her eyes swayed from Haruki to Saiyo, and a gust of wind frazzled her green hair around. Her smiled faded and she cocked her head to the side, staring at Saiyo.

"Quit your pompous heroics. I don't generally discriminate between my prey, but I'm starting to abhor you. If you'd like to stop using such cheesy and clichéd sayings, maybe I'll kill you with the same adequation I use with him."

Shiori used a short burst of Binsoku, the soundless equivalent of Shunpo or Sonido, to appear behind Haruki. A distance of roughly five feet was between them, and she licked her lips again. The Murmur began spinning in circled leisurely, dancing and humming a made-up song loudly. She reached into her hoodie and pulled a weapon that appeared to be a cross between a dagger and a sword, in that it was styled like a traditional Katana but the blade length was only about one foot. She prepared for oncoming attacks that she knew they were either formulating or blindly carrying out, still dancing around nonetheless.

She was feeling mixed emotions at the time, which never boded well for anyone. Adrenaline was coursing through her, making her excited and anxious. But she also felt a sense of boredom and hatred. She hoped, from the deepest of her stomach, that this fight would serve to be at least somewhat entertaining. But these types were never fun. They fit too well into the stereotypes and she wish that she could only find someone slightly crazier and less bent on "moral code." Ha, like that would happen. Unless they were from the 11th Division, she could forget that.

[ooc: sorry, edited for coding error in quotes & last para]

[Sobiru Saiyo]

He smiled for just a second before realizing that the girl had disappeared on the spot, he turned on the spot and watched her reappear behind the shinigami. He began to charge forth as he saw her reach into her clothing, pull out a weapon, and prance around insanely. No, she wasn't one to be taunted into fighting, she was the one who'd taunt. Still, he'd keep up his own little act in response to her's. Once she dropped the bullshit, he'd do the same. She displayed herself as some kind of carefree child, but he wouldn't fall for that trick. She must be fairly powerful to have the courage to dance around on a battlefield.

He appeared about two feet away from her, inserting himself in the distance between Shiori and Haruki, aiming a light diagonal slash at her chest with a smile upon his face. What she didn't know yet was that her hating him was his goal, it was his way of setting his enemies just a bit off-balance. Pompous heroics? Clichéd sayings? Those were a part of the act, he played the part of someone that even he hated. So far, the tactic had been too successful to give it up. He'd treat her like she was beneath him and appear to take the utmost pleasure in it, just to piss her off. He failed to consider that maybe she was already further off balance than he even wanted to mess with.

He launched an immediate follow up, flash stepping behind her and giving another halfhearted slash towards the small of her back. He gave a quick laugh and peered at her through eyelids that were practically shut at this point. He was almost channeling the spirit of the infuriating ex-captain Ichimaru Gin without even realizing it.

"I'm sorry about this, but I couldn't take anymore of that God awful singing, kid." He said, reaching his right hand up to muffle a yawn.

[Empty]

The woman disappeared without a sound, had he not been so carefully examining the pair, Haruki would doubtless have missed the movement altogether, as it was, by splitting his concentration between the two he barely grasped the movement as she repositioned herself behind him. Yet despite the obvious advantage she had gained through the surprise move, she did not attack immediately, instead she began humming a tune that Haruki did not recognise, as if to draw his attention towards her.

Appearing more calm than he felt, Haruki reached his right hand into its sleeve, grasping the zanpakutou blade and pulling on it lightly, not quite drawing it from the sheath as he turned only his head, his already narrow eyes constricting further as he looked at her from the corner of his peripheral vision. Her ability to hide her reiatsu was beyond any he had encountered, even among the Onmitsukidō, who specialised in stealth, he had never met any so proficient. Even that movement now had occurred so quickly yet without either sound or surge in her energy; such extraordinary talent it would take, she would surely not be an easy opponent, for her words, were they true – hinted at her still concealed fangs. Such a skilful and speedy being, one whom Haruki was unable to detect let alone measure the energy of, was likely powerful indeed.

Despite that, the other Shinigami charged in between Haruki and the Blond, his incredibly long blade slashing towards her chest in a diagonal strike; in passing Haruki, the member of the Onmitsukidō once again felt something, unusual about the man, though he could not place it.

The direct charge might be a ruse, yet Haruki could almost see the man's directness, he was the sort who seeked to engage an opponent; someone such as Haruki could never fight in such a grandiose manner. Jumping into the fray would only impede the other Shinigami with his obscenely long blade, instead, Haruki sought to use the man's attacks as best he could to counter the opponent, rather than seeking to pursue the opponent himself.

“Bakudō twenty six, Kyokko.” Haruki's voice was quiet and icy, quickly followed by a slight wooshing sound as Haruki Shunpoed nearly thirty feet to the right. Kyokko was a technique was often poorly suited to such situations, yet as Haruki watched the shunpo of the other Shinigami he hoped to take advantage of the confusion to momentarily conceal his presence, so as to attack when the woman was unawares – as was the Onmitsukidō way.