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  REPLY TOPIC POLL

 The Remains of Wires
Mamiko Sado
Posted: Sep 19 2011, 02:00 AM


Advanced Member
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Group: Shinigami
Posts: 2,166
Member No.: 15
Joined: 2-June 07



The briskness was nice. A cold breeze poured around Mamiko, stirring her hair around limply in strands and clumps, reaching over her face like an obnoxious palm and smearing over her eyes. Drawing one arm across her torso, like a huddle, she tucked her hair behind her ear with the other, staring not quite at any one feature of the disused and rusted-over transformer station but rather at the atmosphere of the place itself. Hollow and abandoned, September wind whispering through warped chain-link fence, the place was possessed by quiescence, a quality the young death god enjoyed with the same uncomfortable adoration of walking through a field in a snowstorm. Beautiful, but not because it wanted to be, rank with hostility and unfriendliness, prohibiting living beings any more advanced than stubborn weeds crawling through cracks in pavement and gravel.

She came here to think, usually. She had counted her triple-digit 'birthday' (which she arbitrarily decided as January 1st of each year) with raucous festivity and subsequently the hangover of Thor's Hammer a couple years ago, now, but even so she felt as though she had been rushed through her life and her afterlife. Times like these were... nice. There was the nagging, subconscious stress of having to be called back to the 4th Division House to treat some papercut or life-threatening internal injury at any moment, but that deadline, that looming threat to her peace made these moments more poignant, not less. To a certain degree, she wished she could have someone to share this moment with, just someone to talk to. Someone to help her dip into her trusty bottle of sake, filled to the brim though not yet touched; in her books, it's terribly gauche to drink yourself stupid when you're alone and not on the job.

The place was like a playground, almost. The disused electrical towers were barely in a state of disrepair, with only the tattered remains of ancient power cables to signify their age, towering above the rest of the station as grim idols of dilapidation. It was an incredible safety hazard, one Mamiko found continuously surprising given the recent trend human society has taken towards sanitizing and safeguarding everything their children could possibly come near. That made them more of something to be preserved, even, a rarity in the modern age. They were built to last decades and decades, but no matter where you could put them, the effect would still be the same: a little gray square of profound nothingness, with thousands of volts humming overhead, the drone a vivid reminder of how easy it would be for that boring square to turn you into a blackened, sorry mess of bone.

"... phhhh," she sighed, privately reproaching herself for dwelling on something as irrelevant and cliched as death. Nobody cares about death, anymore. She barely has the brains to be contemplating something so significant, anyway. Picking up a piece of chipped concrete, she turned it over in her hand, rubbing the ultra-fine chalky grit into her palm, and chucking it at the weathered steel support. The stone banged against it loudly, sending an aching, dissonant thrum through the area, startling away the handful of sparrows who were standing at the edge of the station grounds. "Well screw you, fucking birds!" she yelled after the departing flock, not out of any kind of anger but moreso just because she knew no-one was around to hear.
Baal
Posted: Oct 2 2011, 04:34 AM


Sine Qua Non
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Group: Vizard
Posts: 2,247
Member No.: 53
Joined: 3-July 07



Barely even registering where she was walking, the light yet deliberate steps took Triel through what she had registered to be a deserted area of the city. At least she had registered that on a subconscious level, due to the debris and relatively neglected state of the streets and occasional crunch of glass under her feet. Her conscious thought was as much on suppressing her reiatsu as possible, as well as the wandering thoughts over why she was in the state she was in.

Of course, one answer was prescient above all others.

That was of course carelessness.

It was her own carelessness and overconfidence that had led to her capture by those rank amateur arrancar. What they had done to her still stirred an inextinguishable pyre of rage deep in her soul, and that resulted in a very hoarse, booming laugh in the back of her mind. She had taken the last year to analyze the experiment that had resulted in her transformation, but Triel cared more now about understanding the results of the experiments.

Narrowing her eyes, she could not care less about what motivations the Arrancar might or might not have set out to accomplish by this.

All she was concerned with was exploiting what she had been given.

Naturally, that gift had led to the revilement of the Shinigami that she had called her allies and her ostracization.

Again, she could not care less.

It was the attitude of a lesser being to fear what they did not understand.

She had once been a very powerful Shinigami, and by her standards, she was still superior to all but perhaps the strongest beings in the universe. The only explanation for the irrational order from the Shinigami 'brass' to destroy the few captured by the Arrancar led Triel to realize the truth.

They were afraid of her, and perhaps they always should have been.

That thought brought a smile to Triel's face. Perhaps she did care that the Shinigami were afraid of her. The thought of being feared meant that she was in a position to affect the Shinigami. If she could do that, then...

Blinking, she brought her head up and looked around. She could sense reiatsu. Shinigami reiatsu.

Cocking her head, she walked towards the source, analyzing it and becoming acutely curious about why a lieutenant would be in such a place by themselves at this time. Rounding a corner, she made no attempt to hide herself from sight as she approached the lieutenant. Something about her made Triel furrow her brows in curiosity, but having only been back in the ranks of the Shinigami for a matter of weeks before she was captured, she had not had time to learn all the names and faces of the new Division members.

Hearing a shout, Triel couldn't help but laugh. Triel's laugh was not something that was heard often, and as the acerbic woman only sat down some distance from the Lieutenant, Triel could already pick up the scent of alcohol.

"Now, you'll have to forgive me, but I cannot recall your name. Please, if I may be so honored, lieutenant?"

It was a guess. A very educated guess, but a guess nonetheless. The reiatsu the woman showed, even if hidden was not difficult for a kidou master of her calibre to detect, and it easily matched the levels of a lieutenant. Scanning the woman up and down, Triel was impressed by her form, but ultimately not affected by it.

Realizing that this apparently young lieutenant might not even know her name, much less anything about her past, she spoke in an even yet non-threatening tone. "I apologize. Its impolite to ask others for an introduction without introducing yourself first. I am Triel. Now, if I may inquire, why are you alone in such an unwelcoming place?"
Mamiko Sado
Posted: Oct 2 2011, 05:09 AM


Advanced Member
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Group: Shinigami
Posts: 2,166
Member No.: 15
Joined: 2-June 07



It would be slightly charitable to assume that Mamiko's liberal alcoholism had accounted for her inability to notice Triel until the woman had even opened her mouth. It was uncommon in the extreme for her to be interrupted or even located at all in these outskirts, at this sorry little plot of rusting history, so if ever there were a place her guard would be down, it would be here, under the ragged wires. At the very nanosecond a voice could be heard, she whipped around, yelping loudly and spitting a mist of sake from between her lips in paralytic shock. "FfffFFFUCK shit fuck where the fucking hell did you...?!" she shrieked, her hand already reflexively grasping her sword. The only thing keeping her from having fired off a destructive kidou as well was that her other hand was occupied with her sake, and for Mamiko, the thought of discarding it for any reason at all, outside of perhaps swapping it out for a fresh bottle, was not one that often stopped by.

The woman's friendly expression -- or at least as friendly as she could discern, as there was unquestionably something eerie about her, like a facade -- loosened her grip on her sword somewhat, and her posture sagged, relaxing somewhat. Staring her down, still bristling and with blood raging around her temples, Mamiko took a step back, clearing her throat. "... who... did... how did you..." she furrowed her brow harshly and crossed her arms, an exaggerated gesture for sure, spilling a precious splash of sake from her bottle in the process. "Esscuse me? Recall my name? Lady, I don't think we've met. Um, probably," she added, after a moment of consideration. "I don't usually make a habit of talking to humans. Y'know, I don't think many Shinigami do. Definitely not."

She lifted the bottle to her lips, again, characteristically not giving a crap for politeness or social niceties, taking a good swig and knocking it back in a practiced motion, reeking of disinterest in the other woman. Holding the bottle at chest height, she moved to take another sip, but stopped short, her eyes now suddenly wary, as if something had dawned upon her. "... but you ain't human, are you." Carefully, she set the bottle back in her sling without another sip, and touched the hilt of her sword with her thumb, hanging off it nervously. "...Yeah, okay, you're Triel, nice to meet you. That's fantastic. What kinda person are you, though? You know I'm a Lieutenant, but you look like a human... and I can't sense you. So no, I'm not tellin' you my name. I'm not telling you anything, so if you could buzz off, I'm sure that'd be the best solution for th'both of us." She stepped away, just barely shifting her stance as if to make leave, her hand still on her sword. "... 'specially me. Freakin' weird-ass human, all polite like some kinda hag... G'bye, lady. Happy travels."
Baal
Posted: Oct 3 2011, 04:38 AM


Sine Qua Non
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Group: Vizard
Posts: 2,247
Member No.: 53
Joined: 3-July 07



Upon seeing the obviously inebriated state that the lieutenant was in, Triel wondered if this was perhaps the best time to approach her. Those who were accosted of a large amount of alcohol rarely made sound decisions--wait. That could well play into her hand, and as Triel received an earful as a greeting, she couldn't help but laugh heartily. She hadn't thought that her skills at masking her reiatsu were still so effective, yet despite that she had completely caught the Lieutenant off guard.

The moment Triel watched her target's hand drift to the hilt of her sword, Triel's instincts told her to assume a ready position.

Overcoming those instincts with a great deal of effort, Triel remained in as non-threatening a stance as possible.

Human?

The word sent a rush of excitement down Triel's spine.

Perhaps her plan would be easier to pull off than she originally thought. Now it was just a matter of coming up with a way to threaten...no, no. Threaten was too bold a word. There were too many negative implications with attempting to threaten someone, even inebriated, they would more than likely lash out and her chance would be ruined. Perhaps...coercion was a better word.

Yes, if Triel could convince this woman to help her out of a simple coercion with no apparent underlying threats, then it would only prove to be easier to earn her cooperation.

Like it or not, Triel needed a Shinigami's help, and...

Noticing something for the first time, Triel caught a glimpse of the Fourth Division badge. Silently praising whatever god of fortune was smiling on her and she held up her hands inoffensively before speaking in a much more respectful tone. "I did not mean to surprise you, and I do not mean any harm."

Slowly lowering her arms, she had hoped to avoid needing to become more offensive in her attempt to gain aid. Triel needed her help, so gods be damned, she would have it. Putting on as innocent a facade as possible, she spoke in a somewhat timid tone.

"I sincerely apologize for startling you, but I..." Intentionally stumbling, Triel adopted a much more serious and somewhat helpless expression. Being in the Second Division for as long as she was, she had learned the most acute ways to mimic emotions that she did not feel at heart in any way. Now she had to act as a human would in the presence of a being much more powerful than any human could hope to be.

"I need your help. I was attacked several days ago by some sort of creature and I have not felt normal since." Deciding to tell a half truth, Triel could hear Sahren cackling in the back of her mind as her hollow understood her plan. Having the being's cooperation, Triel suddenly staggered backwards and fell to her knees before beginning to heave for air as she began to hyperventilate.

Between gasps, she only stammered out two more words before hacking up a mouthful of bile and collapsing to the ground. "Help..please..."
Mamiko Sado
Posted: Oct 3 2011, 05:12 AM


Advanced Member
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Group: Shinigami
Posts: 2,166
Member No.: 15
Joined: 2-June 07



Fishy. Fishy shit, this woman was, and Mamiko wasn't having one bit of it. "Startled? Lady, you didn't startle me, you scared the shit out me!" It was a pity Triel had not met the 4th Lieutenant before now, as she would surely have altered her strategy. Mamiko drank, and was at least tipsy for much of her working hours (and all of her days off) because she could. The sake disinhibited her and freed her from what little restraints she had, of that there could be no doubt, but the girl was by no means slow. Hell, her brain probably needed at least some small volume of alcohol just to get up in the morning, by now. Was she smart? Well, she looked good, so who cares about smarts? Analytical? No. No no no. Bookish? To someone like her, libraries and their many bushes and artfully-crafted alcoves in the masonry are a good pissing spot if you're out late and the bars are closed, but the sudden and completely ham-fisted transition from calm, collected, and almost jovial to sickly and distraught made the girl nearly cringe from how helplessly juvenile the performance was. "... lady, are you fuckin' kidding me?"

Mamiko turned on her heel, with a little more planing with her arms than a classier and more graceful alcoholic would do, and walked away from her, peering at her over her shoulder with a needling eye. 'Help me,' she begs. Man, not even harlequin novels publish trite crap like that anymore. The croak in her throat, it was so dry... well, maybe a bit wet... There was a coughing noise, and Mamiko's eyes widened just a bit, seeing... wait, is that bile? "Oh hell, lady, what the fuck did you eat..."

She stopped, of course. Even if it were clearly a trap, there was something about the 4th Division that just instilled you with the reflex to automatically stop and help. It was sickeningly altruistic, but hey, if that was how the game was played, she'd at least sing along. Or something. Metaphors weren't always that good to Mami, and she was almost certainly a butcher to them. "Okay, okay, Clara Bow, that's enough outta you..." She shuffled over to the hacking woman, settling on her haunches, and peered at the fluid she coughed up, careful not to touch it, or the woman from whence it came. With Hollows, you never really knew what was going to screw you up next.

"Bile, huh. Tasty shit... Geh." She stood, suddenly, and crossed her arms. "Before I do any treatment or goddamn anything, you better friggin tell me who you are. Human my ass, if you know I'm a lieutenant and are, um, coughing up improbable puke on my sandals, you better show me some ID or somethin'." She sighed, rolling her eyes. This was suspicious as hell... but oh. Oh oh, an idea was forming.

With the woman's eyes fixed directly at the ground, Mamiko gently extended her hand from her folded arms, barely stirring at all. In a moment, her reiatsu had spiked considerably. "Bakudou 65, Choujuujinbutsugiga." Quick as a flash, like a snake, two scrolls unravelled from the open palm of her hand, surrounding the prone woman on either side and attempting to envelop her in their nearly undeniable narcotic and anaesthetic power. If this woman had anything important to say, as any 4th Divisioner knows, her body should be able to tell more than enough, and from this position, and at this close range, there was likely not much she could do.
Baal
Posted: Oct 6 2011, 02:11 AM


Sine Qua Non
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Group: Vizard
Posts: 2,247
Member No.: 53
Joined: 3-July 07



Still hunkered over, Triel heard the lieutenant stop and turn, either drawn by her pathetic display or seemingly genuine display of sickness. Listening for the footsteps that would draw her closer, Triel couldn't believe how she hadn't been recognized even after such a long time. Granted this woman was inebriated, but was the Gotei Thirteen getting so slack in training its members that they wouldn't even recognize a captain from another division?

Triel didn't even have a disguise, except for her absences.

Despite the fact that she had hidden her reiatsu, that wouldn't mean that Triel would be unrecognizable to any particularly astute member of the divisions that knew more than five hundred years of history. Yes, records kept on different divisions by different divisions were sometimes sketchy, but if members were so ignorant now that they would fail to recognize a former captain...

Well, if Soul Society's great army of the Heavens had fallen that low, then Triel might as well just walk back in and take what she needed.

Unfortunately, she wasn't that stupid. At least, it was unfortunate for the Shinigami.

Having missed almost all of what the lieutenant had said because of her own considerations, she couldn't hold back a slight smile as the woman began to digress on how Triel would need to identify herself.

Little more than an hour's worth of reading would have identified Triel for Mamiko, but apparently that wasn't worth the effort. Nodding as if accepting an ultimatum, Triel felt the reiatsu about the woman change as she finished her declaration and as soon as the word 'Bakudo' reached her ear, Triel allowed her reiatsu to spike instantaneously before preparing to cast a cautionary barrier.

That, however, seemed as if it were unnecessary. Her reiatsu spike coincided exactly as the binding art was executed, so as soon as the first scroll touched her skin, she watched Mamiko collapse in an exaggerated fashion.

Raising an eyebrow, she wondered why a lieutenant would create such a potentially dangerous binding art, but shrugging her shoulders, she paid it no mind. At least this method would allow Triel to transport her somewhere else discreetly without even disclosing their location. That went better than she could have hoped for. A quick evaluation of the unconscious woman confirmed that she wasn't being tricked, so Triel grabbed Mamiko and hauled her onto her shoulder.

Setting out, she ducked through the dilapidated buildings until she found a sturdy one some distance off. Descending into the basement, she only set the sleeping Shinigami into a chair that Triel had dragged down to the basement. Electing to show an attempt at furthering goodwill and trust, she did not tie Mamiko down with any additional binding arts. In addition to that, she had taken care not to actually harm the woman.

Almost as an afterthought, she removed the sword that was most likely Mamiko's zanpaktou. Simply deciding to place it into her own belt, it would send an obvious message to the recovering woman.

Picking a strategic location near the room's only exit, Triel picked up a metal pot and bashed it against the wall, hopefully rousing the still-unconscious doctor. Hopefully the situation would sober the woman some, now that she would find herself captured by someone who obviously was not to be trifled with.

Leaning against the wall that was ostensibly next to the sole exit, Triel narrowed her eyes as she stared at the woman who would no doubt be collecting her senses and attempting to arm herself.

In a flat tone, Triel let her unimpressed voice fill the room. "I really expected more from a lieutenant. I had hoped the inebriation wasn't enough to hide the fact you were speaking to a damned former captain from you."

Yes, perhaps Triel had just erred, but she was at the point where she simply didn't care anymore. Pausing briefly before continuing, her flat tone had picked up a rather dulled edge, as if she were more disappointed than angry at this fact, but the edge was obviously still present. "I don't know if its the Gotei as a whole, or more individually, but it always irritated me seeing quality decline over the years, both in the division members and their captains."

Apparently done with her speech, Triel folded her arms, prominently displaying the confiscated zanpaktou in her arms, hopefully sending a poignant message to her 'guest.'

"Now. Are we going to be a bit more receptive to a simple request?"
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