Derren Krenshaw

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Semyon rocked back from the force of the Reaper's words, expecting and yet unprepared for the sheer volume she raised against him. She spared no mercy, certainly, spelling out her issues with biting -if refreshing- clarity. He supposed one couldn't assume everything she said to be truth, and much of what was could likely be exaggerated. Yet one thing came across as very, very clear to the Wight:

The reaper wished he was dead.

Not figuratively, not born of the rage that hung on her words, or spawned from a desire to antagonize him. No, she genuinely believed that he should be dead. His very existence seemed an affront to her, grouped with the beings who had given her such injuries, even as she had protected them all. It was a painful message for anyone to hear, him being no exception, and yet something about her speech, her demeanor muted the effect of her words.

Despite everything she said, despite the look of anger, hurt, hate and disgust that crossed her features, she had not raised a hand against him. Perhaps because others were around, and a fight would only drag more people into what was essentially a private issue? Perhaps because she was scared, for some reason or another, and felt he held an advantage over her? Perhaps simply because she had enough self-control to rely on words alone, or looked down on him such that she felt anything more would demean her? Whichever the reason, she barked -she howled- but didn't bite.

Part of him sensed weakness in that restraint. An instinctual, predatory urge rose to take advantage, to drive her into a corner, to tear at her throat before she decided to tear at his. Semyon bit it back, shoving it away behind duty and discipline. He didn't need this to grow out of hand, despite centuries of experience screaming to 'neutralize the threat!'. If she wanted to stick with words, he would stick with words. It ended better for everyone that way, and held at least a small chance of accomplishing something.

That last comment of hers, however, did not help.

He understood the pain, couldn't help but wince when she showed him the wounds. Part of him saw her as just another acquaintance, then, someone he happened upon on the street who needed help.

But then she all-but blamed it on him. Then she told him to die.

Semyon blinked for the first time today, and took a step forwards.

The interruption of Nestor and his friend could not have come at a worse time, good intentions aside. The spectral woman wanted nothing more than to cause trouble it seemed. And Nestor? The Wight could appreciate his desire to try and help. He just didn't want it right now. Semyon's lips curled back, gaze shifting to the gentleman beside him, retort rising in his thoughts.

He broke the rising venom within himself with a sharp clap, hands snapping together between him and the reaper, as much to draw her attention as his own.

"It was about that long, that I was dead." Letting his hands fall loose at his sides, The Wight's pale gaze fixed itself firmly on the reaper's green, his voice hard. "I barely had time to catch a glimpse of the other side before I was back, my village weeping in relief. This was the one answer we found when there seemed no way to survive."

He let his eyes shift briefly to Nestor, who claimed they were alike, then back to the reaper. They traced the memory of those wounds she had shown him, drawing a wince as ancient memories stirred as well. Rancid flavors danced in a mouth that hadn't known taste in centuries, the sudden urge to wretch -though he no longer had a stomach- forcing a short pause as he spoke.

"I won't pretend... it was 'right'. I won't claim it was 'fair'. I don't know what consequences there are, or have been. What I did, what we did, was make a choice. I don't regret that, and I accept what my choice may bring... But..."

Semyon allowed himself to look over to Nestor once more, his gaze then sweeping wide as he spoke.

"Max deserved to come back. That is what you say, and so you helped him." His gaze took in Tamarind nearby, still speaking with the other werewolf. "I don't know him, but I know Tamarind. She deserves to smile, to keep smiling, and you've helped with that..."

His gaze fell back, the Wight's voice growing soft as his anger faded. The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to fear this Reaper. But the more he spoke and listened to her, the less he knew what to say. It was tiring. Tiring to think about, tiring when she baited him, just full of an exhaustion he had forgotten he could feel.

So he tried just speaking. Saying what he wanted to say, and hoping maybe to sit down somewhere, afterwards.

"Those here... all of them, deserve to live. That is what I say. So I will not be leaving."

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

He should have gone with checking his phone.

Seriously, he should have. Twenty-seven messages meant someone -or many someones- felt they needed to reach him. Someone could be in trouble, his boss could be following up that he was indeed gone for a funeral, or... anything, really.

He was in the middle of a job -a very big job, it seemed- so it was unlikely he could do more than give advice or answer questions. Even if there was serious trouble, Ragnarok probably ranked higher up that whatever his callers were facing. But even still, at least there was something he could do, even if it wasn't much, when faced with a phone full of calls.

What was he supposed to do here, faced with an angry reaper full of venom?

She didn't want him anywhere near her, that was readily, painfully clear. Not that he particularly wanted to be near her, either. He had no doubts about the choice he made so long ago, felt no guilt over how he and his fellows had escaped death together. It had always been their greatest enemy; the eventual, final end that haunted them at every turn. Following brigands, nesting in plague and famine, lurking under loose stones or cracking branches, always waiting for the chance to strike. Generations had toiled against it as best they could, maintaining a tiny fortress of life within unforgiving lands. And when the walls fell? When centuries of work and prayer finally failed them? Semyon and the others made a stand, and found a way to win.

The young reaper was a walking reminder that death still stalked them, all the more frightening because she seemed almost the same. Undying, yet not quite living, a being that followed a different set of rules than most were accustomed to.

Unfortunately, those similarities ended on the edge of a scythe.

It would be polite -and a relief- to walk away. Semyon could apologize and retreat, maybe busy himself with those messages before they got married and raised families. He wouldn't antagonize her any further that way, and he wouldn't have to worry as much.

So with that in mind, Semyon took a moment to regard the young reaper after the initial surprise of her words, then decided to reply.

"I wouldn't mind that... but we are working together." He remained perfectly still, deciding not to risk anything by making a motion that could be seen as threatening or cowardly. "So if it might help? I'd like the long list, please."

She was a comrade, much as it unnerved him, that fact remained true. He needed to be able to fight beside her, if it came to that, and to trust her to do the same. Walking away wouldn't help with that, he wasn't sure if anything would. But there were some things even a 'zombie' felt were important.

Honor your comrade. Never back down.

Semyon stood still and waited for the Reaper's response.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Just a note to make, since this is the first time it's come up, but the fact that there are a number of characters here who were also in the first iteration of pieces means it could come up again.

Oro Mai isn't part of Bain and Hoyle anymore, he left a few months after the events of the first thread, and has since been acting on his own. It was part of the reason I chose to run a new character when this thread started up, as the previous 'mission' seemed a really good time to start the breakdown of Oro's relationship with the company, and I kind of always figured he wouldn't remain with B&H for long after that task had been finished.

Given he is one to keep his word, he would have still helped Jay-Jay hone her abilities, even after he had left -especially since his previous apprentice had 'graduated' by then- though by now he's likely moved on.

So basically, I'm saying it's good to see Jay-Jay running around again, I'm looking forward to seeing what she can do now, but that if anyone does want to bring up Oro, they have a bit of an idea what he's been up to.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Heroes knows best on that front, though I've always pictured the universe Pieces takes place in as similar to Kevin Hearne's Iron Druid chronicles: Every mythology, fairy tail and supernatural something you can think of are present and accounted for all together.

Though Hearne goes a step further and adds in Middle Earth, Comic book characters and more, but he's a funny guy like that.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Semyon's attentive -if neutral- expression changed to concern as first Tamarind, then the other werewolf began to hack and cough from the smoke of the shared cigar. It was further aggravated by the steady glare emanating from the young reaper by Tamarind's side. But while that was definitely a cause for worry, Tamarind's sudden fit was what first grabbed his attention, priority wrought from timing and circumstance.

He had been the one to pass the cigar to her after 'smoking' it, so guilt was the first thing he felt. He was well preserved, and their tasks so far hadn't put much strain on the bindings keeping his form from rotting any further, but he was still an undead. Even in the best-preserved, disease could fester, and they needed everyone at full strength for this coming job.

Her hoarse words spoken through the smoke calmed him some, however. He might have been abrupt in his question, but at least she knew what they were up against now... and at least it seemed surprise had been the reason for her cough, nothing else.

The sudden, gravelly hacking from his other side brought further relief amongst the concern, a new wave of smoke curling out from the older werewolf. She had smoked before he, so likely it was the smoke and surprise, nothing else. Nestor was fine, but his was an... interesting form. He had also offered the cigar to begin with, and likely was practiced enough to avoid the fits that grabbed the other two.

Which left the final cause of concern.

Semyon tried to ignore the young reaper's glare when she first came over, instead focusing on Tamarind and then the other Werewolf. Quick glances as those two started to talk revealed many of his comrades involved in conversations of their own- nothing to interrupt. Nestor was here, but seemed involved with the werewolves as well... what was it people did when nervous, or trying to avoid eye contact? Check their cell phones?

Gloved hands slipped his free from it's case deep in his jacket, flipping it open briefly to glance at it's brightly-glowing screen.

27 new messages

Semyon regarded the screen for a moment, the quietly closed the phone and slipped it away.

Stepping quietly around the werewolf pair, the Wight approached Daisy beside them. It would be best to greet her respectfully -and officially, he still didn't know her name- as he hadn't done anything to earn her ire. She hadn't really done anything to earn his concern but that was... no it was pretty much the same. So maybe he could understand why she was glaring at him like that, but something should probably be done about it. Something done by him, in a way that wouldn't start a fight between a reaper of death and a soldier of undeath.

"Pardon me," Stepping in front of Daisy, Semyon offered her a slight bow. "Did I... do something to offend you? Miss...?"

Bleach: Ghosts

Oooo, neat swords both.

And since there are a few captains in the Bleach Cannon with one-shot/near one-shot abilities in their swords, that sounds alright to me. I imagine your character's going to be the leader of the Jacks anyways, so a powerful weapon seems a given.

Also, having Togame be a descendant works, especially if she stays at a lieutenant level. I'll rework her history a bit to reflect that.

Bleach: Ghosts

(( Putting this up now before I head out for a few hours. If anything needs to be changed/added/removed, let me know and I'll see to it once I get back.

Also: I set my character's level at Lieutenant for now. If it seems like there's plenty of people wanting to take Lieutenant positions I can 'promote' her to captain level, but otherwise I'm fine keeping her as-is))

Name: Togame, Yui

Gender: Female

Apperance: Togame is short, standing roughly 5'4", with tanned, olive-tinted skin and dark eyes. Her hair is a light brown, falling loosely to her shoulders, framing a face hardened by years upon years of training. A trio of pale scars mark her face, one across the bridge of her nose, one down her jawline on the right side of her face, and the final running from the right side of her mouth up towards her ear.

She is commonly seen wearing a dark blue robe opened slightly to reveal the top of a silver Sarashi covering her chest. Her right hand is covered in a glove of white cloth that runs up beneath the sleeve of her robe. Her left sleeve has been removed, the robe ending at her shoulder and capped with white cloth, leaving her left hand and arm exposed. In addition, she wears the simple sandals and white socks of a typical shinigami, as well as a silver sash that binds her robe about her waist. Her mask is a simple affair, pure white with a line of rich blue running straight down the middle, ending in a pair of painted lips.

Togame almost always has her sword released, and so is typically seen with her left hand and arm wrapped in metallic ribbons up to her shoulder. The ends of these ribbons fall down to her waist, wrapping together into a tight cord that ends in the pommel of a short blade slipped into her sash. The blade itself has no wrapping or guard, the sudden tapering of it's sharpened edge the only indication of where the handle ends and blade begins.

Personality: Togame bears a polite, empathetic demeanor, beneath with lies a consuming passion for the challenge of combat. Upbeat, friendly, and fiercely loyal to her fellow squad members who defected so long ago, she constantly strives to improve herself by seeking out fight after fight. It's common for her to answer insults with a challenge to duel, or simply suggest a fight in order to pass the time. In her eyes, a stronger opponent simply means a greater challenge to learn from, and a greater reward should she emerge victorious.

Togame bears no strong ill will towards the shinigami of Seireitei, but considers their imprisonment of Gorou Nobunaga to be an injustice that must be set right. With so many years having passed, she only blames those who still rule Seireitei, and hopes that their followers do not have to suffer for sins they never knew had been committed.

However, if she has to fight some of the stronger shinigami of Seireitei during their task to free Nobunaga... well... you won't hear her complaining.

History: Togame Yui was a promising soul picked up by Nobunaga's exiled squad years ago from the upper northern districts of Rukongai. Her proficiency at Kido and love of a challenge made her a promising student, and she proved her worth time and again as the years passed.

Feeling his squad was the one who saved her from a meaningless life, showing her instead a world of challenge and reward, Togame feels a sense of loyalty to Gorou Nobunaga, even though she has never met him. The stories told by the origional members of the Jakakumei have convinced her of both his strength and the injustice of his imprisonment, and she works eagerly to see him set free. She since trained for years alongside her fellow squad members in pursuit of that very goal, rising to a level that rivals the lieutenants of Yamamoto's Gotei 13.

Sword: 'Daughter of Medusa' ('Kurage no Musume', if Google translate is to be trusted)

When sealed, Her sword is a wakizashi-styled blade sheathed on her hip with no guard or wrapping, appearing as if her blade had never been completed.

Divide and flow, Kurage no Musume

Upon release, her sword unravels into a host of sharpened, metallic ribbons that immediately wrap themselves about her left arm, their ends writhing out past her shoulder when unused. She typically keeps her sword released, and forms the ends into a mimicry of her sword's sealed state when at rest.

Sword Abilities:

-Adaptive Ribbons:
Togame can control the ribbon ends of her released sword mentally, as an extension of her own body. They can be used to lash out at or bind an enemy, grab hold of objects, and even form weapons, shields or simple armor. The sharpened ribbons themselves are typically only capable of inflicting minor wounds, and her constructs can be 'unraveled' by a strong blow or energy strike, but it's strength lies in adaptability and fluidity of change. In combat, Togame uses the ribbons of her sword to constantly keep her opponent off-balance, alternating swiftly between attack and defense, adapting her fighting style to better counter her opponent's, and slowly wearing them down with a continuous barrage of lacerating strikes.

Spiritual Resonance:
Additionally, Togame's sword resonates with and magnifies her own reiatsu, allowing her to cast kido with greater speed and efficiency. She can also combine her skill at Kido with her weapon's changing nature and spiritual resonance to allow her to use offensive and defensive techniques in new and inventive ways.

Bankai: (Currently none, Togame's level is closer to that of a lieutenant than a captain)

Other Skills:

-Martial Prowess: In line with her sword's abilities, Togame is skilled in fighting with a variety of weapons, and is especially adept at hand-to-hand combat. She is a fast and agile fighter, preferring brief skirmishes and light trades of blows to full head-on combat.

-Spiritual Prowess: Togame is skilled at Kido, and thanks to her sword's abilities is able to manifest most low-mid level Kido (up to mid 50s) without an incantation, and higher kido (high 60s) with an incantation.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Semyon remained quiet for the moment, listening first to Nestor's... philosophical side, then to the seemingly confused werewolf between them. They were supposed to have known already? Atticus hadn't said anything about that, the Wight was sure he would have caught the word 'Ragnarok' otherwise. Isis hadn't mentioned anything, but then her -and Tamarind's- task hadn't been in line with the one Hoyle had given Atticus. Perhaps Hoyle had been hoping to avoid causing undue distress in his employees?

Personally, Semyon would have preferred to have known from the start. But he was a soldier, not the head of an organization. He wasn't in a place to judge -or really question- Hoyle's judgment.

He could still wonder to himself though. That was a right everyone held... Like wondering why a cigar was being passed to him.

The Wight regarded the cigars gently smoking form, held cautiously in the werewolf's grasp. He wasn't even sure he had smoked something like that when he lived, and now she wanted him to take it? It was rude to refuse, certainly, but confusion made him pause maybe a moment too long. After all, it had recently been offered to her from Nestor. What tradition was she following, to pass it along?

"...Thank you." He opted to take it gingerly from her gasp, setting it to rest lightly between his teeth, smoke still trailing out at a stately pace. There was no one to pass it onto after him so far, so- wait, Tamarind was approaching? Ah, he could follow the Werewolf's tradition, then.

"Ahead of it's time? More reason to stop it then." The cigar's tip flared briefly as Semyon experimented at inhaling, his voice seemingly unobstructed despite it all. "There's much to do in the world. I-... We can't have it stopping now."

Drawing the cigar from his mouth -smoke still swirling inside, escaping his lips little at a time- Semyon held it out for Tamarind to take. A subtle glance with pale eyes to check the other werewolf would not notice, and he offered their new arrival a small shrug. Given the look Tamarind had on her face, she seemed to know nothing more about this tradition than he did. But passing it along would delay any offense, at least. And surely someone who was actually alive and breathing would appreciate the cigar more than he. So many smoked such things, they had to have some attraction, yes?

Semyon almost shrugged a second time, before reminding himself it wasn't necessary when thinking. Back to standing still and listening, then, though perhaps with more than a cigar to greet Tamarind.

"Did you hear of this, Tamarind?" His gaze turned to fix upon her entirely, for now. "Ragnarok? We have a heavy task before us."

Small group Bleach RP

Masks might be a good idea for the opener, keep people guessing as to who these invaders are and what they really want. Though I imagine they won't stay on too long once the fighting starts.

As for uniform... most of the factions in Bleach seem to have their own uniform, but each individual tends to modify it to fit their own personality. So maybe if we did go with blue robes as the 'baseline', and then everyone could modify their appearance a bit from that?

Small group Bleach RP

Like the setting, already have a few ideas for characters that should be fun to play with here.

Depends a bit on what other people are thinking of, but if needed I can roll a lieutenant-ranked character.