Welcome to Bleach Society Role-Play, BSRP for short. We're a Beginner to Advanced canon site with non-canon elements for maximum roleplay enjoyment. We focus on characters' individual stories; however, there are many more than your own. Best viewed in Google Chrome!
Bleach was created by Tite Kubo. All site systems were created by current and former staff members of BSRP to enhance the roleplay experience. Banners and theme coding belongs to Kaz, inspired by Timetables, with credit to Smangii for the sidebar and Pyxis of Gangnam Style for the Thread List. General site coding and plugins are from various support sites like Smangii and Proboards Support, all credit to their creators. All characters, threads, and ideas on this site belong to their respective creators. Various images were taken from sites including but not limited to Zerochan, Photobucket, deviantART, all credit to original creators. Do not steal the original work found on this site. We'll find you.
"Shit," Akatsuki coughed with a soft snarl, blood dripping from behind the mask. "Been.. Some time.. Since I saw.. That much.. Of my own blood," more coughing. More blood dripping from behind the mask. The shinigami looked down at his own waist, the hole in his stomach more than visible. Shreds of flesh left and right, blood everywhere.
The eyes behind the mask slowly grew fainter. Life slowly dissipating. The sweet embrace of death would soon settle in and Akatsuki almost gave in to it.
Almost.
A deep, pained and oh so ragged breath resounded from behind the mask. He wasn't allowed to die. Another cough of blood, left arm slumping sidewards. The right one was somewhere, severed and still clenching his zanpakutou. With a weak roll, he craned his head upwards to meet his assailant, a hollow who seemed to relish the sight of the broken and twisted shinigami. Truth be told, he did the same. It was only fair. It was nothing but nature.
Akatsuki grunted in pain as he raised his hand to rest it underneath the wound, his vision going blurry. The nausea only worsening. The crimson puddle around him only growing. Yet, Akatsuki didn't want to die. He still had goals to accomplish. Achieve his shikai and his bankai. Enact revenge on his brother.
Weak, lifeless eyes settled on the soulless, hungering eyes of the hollow's. This thing had no right to kill him.
With a low snarl, Akatsuki tried to get to his feet again. He wasn't going to die here. Not by a long shot. Eyes lit with a new fire, ready to fight. A new-found strength pulled through Akatsuki. And he knew he was going to win this. Even with only one arm.
Yet, the reality was that he was too weak, too wobbly and had lost far too much blood. He couldn't stand a chance. A coughing grunt of pain resounded as a clawed finger pierced his chest, slamming through the wall behind him and pinning him in place once more.
Gage had been running at a full out sprint for nearly ten minuets. There was a hollow in the area, one from the holer world like many of the others in the past but this was different, the aura that it puts of being much more potent and thick. It was dangerous as any other holer but it had what like the added intensity of being as strong as a captain. Finally he was getting a good lock on the location, the energy so thick that he was having some problems finding it's source.
Rounding the corner to an alley Gage spots the two most distracted Spiritual beings in the world. A single mauled Shinigami pinned to a wall with the long claws of the beast like hollow. A pool of blood slowly spreads on the ground as a hole the size of a baseball dumps his fluids out by the cup.
The face of the Shinigami, hidden away by a white mask, leaks blood down the neck to stain the white undergrowth that they wear with this outfits. He was by no means any kind of healer, his knowledge of injuries extending out to knowing whether or not he should go to the hospital, but even now he could tell that this poor soul was injured beyond help.
One arm was mangled, bloody and wounded from what must have been intense self defense. That was nothing though in comparison to his right arm, severed at just above the elbow, the cut being jagged and ugly.
Reaching over his shoulder with his right hand Gage grabs his handle to his variable Amor, the plating extending up over his shoulder and down one arm to provide him with protection to his right armlike a football players shoulder padding.
charging forward with his armoured shoulder down Gage slams into the side of the hollow with the strength of a freight train backed by years of training. With the weight of a commercial airliner Gage slams hard enough to launch the hollow away while replacing it with himself so that he now stands where it was.
For some reason, the pain started to subside. It faded slowly. The sticky blood that was everywhere, the hot, burning sensation. Laced in with the cold of her exposed insides slowly faded. As if lulled to sleep by a mother that was already long dead. Grasping desperately at the last straws of her life. But it was futile. She wasn't too well versed with wounds and any of the likes. But even she could tell right now, this was just an execution.
Even when the hollow was violently knocked away from her, replaced by a mystery figure that looked down at her now, her time was running out. What little remained of her arm twitched, before she lifted it up to tear the porcelain mask away from her face, throwing it to the ground. A piece broke off. The bloody hand print stained its remnants. She looked up at this man. A scarred face, all following the similair pattern of a burn wound. Yet feminine lips that were curled in a painful grimace, soaked with blood. Raven bangs coloured in a sick tint of bordeaux. And deep, blue feline eyes looked up to the man. What was his plan? What had he hoped to achieve by saving a mortally wounded shinigami?
She tried to speak, but only blood bubbled to the surface, a small piece of deep red spittle running down from scarred lips. A small bubble ensued due to her hitched breath as she desperately panted.
Gage could see it in her face and in the labored breathing of her chest. She was fading and there was no way that she would survive this encounter. He did have one thing that he could do though, if not just buy him a few minuets with her, the hollow all but forgotten as it lays broken and bloodied half buried under the rubble of the wall it crashed into. Taking one knee he place his hand over the wound, a soft yellow glow emanating from his palm. He lacked the type of skill necessary to repair this kind of damage but he could at least heal the skin, sealing the wound off from bleeding any further externally.
Speech was impossible for her, the blood in her mouth and most likely her lungs was making breathing labored and drawing the color from her face. "Shhh, I know your uncomfortable but I'm right here. I'm not going any where. Just relax." Gage continues the healing of the surface wounds so that she had nothing but internal and lung bleeding. At the best this would buy her about 10 minuets but at worst she is already too far gone and she is going to go into shock any moment. "My name is Gage. I live nearby, the energy you and the hollow putting off was enough to catch my attention so I came to see if you were alright. I think that I may have been a few moments too late though."
The aches slowly faded due to the soft yellow glow from his hand. A spiritually aware human? How ironic a shinigami was being saved by a human and not the other way around. But the man was stronger than her regardless.
After all, he completely destroyed the hollow that attacked her. Within the blink if an eye. She couldn't even begin to fight it. If anything, the hollow fought her. He spoke while healing her. Making excuses-.. Did he try to amend himself? She spat out a good amount of snot and blood, her breath audibly wheezing. "A-..Akatsuki-," her voice was gritty, damaged due to previous scars. More blood spilled from her lips, before she swallowed. She was dying anyways. Blood in her stomach wouldn't help, though it wasn't as if she had any hope of surviving at this point. She glanced at her torn off arm. By no means would she survive this. And that's when the fear settled in. By no means was she afraid of death itself. She was a shinigami. Death was just a means of an end. Her story would be finished then and there.
What Akatsuki feared, was dying before she could enact revenge. Maybe.
She looked up to Gage momentarily. "Promise," she coughed loudly, spitting out more blood. "Kill.. Genjitsu," she stated, holding up the small tanto that made for her zanpakutou, offering up her power.
There was so much blood, always so much blood around him. He did not know this woman but she was another human being, or at least was one at some point in her past and here she was fading in his arms. No more. How could this still be happening to him? He had undergone so much training, so much pain. There were piles of bodies behind him and he could feel that there were mountains of them ahead but here he was, another soul on the verge of fading away and all he could do was try to console her with his words. "Yeah? Akatsuki. Well its nice to meet you even though you may have ruined my new shoes." He played a small joke, hoping that the words would be at least a bit comforting if not entirely inappropriate in its timing.
In actuality he did not care about his shoes getting blood on them, only that there was once again something that he literally had NO CONTROL OVER. But there was one thing that he could do. What ever it was that she wanted, this 'Genjitsu' dead, then he would do it. He would do it for her but more for himself. She needed to know that it was going to happen for her own closure but Gage needed that stamp of self control to prove to himself that he was more than a pawn in the wind of the world. Reaching out he places his hand on hers, his own hand warm from his adrenaline and hers cold from the shock and lack of blood. "Anything. Who is he?"
She spat out some more blood, slowly fading by now. Her strength started to dissipate. His shoes seemed to be so.. Unimportant right now. She whinced in pain, hand weakly reaching up to cup his cheek, before it slumped back down, leaving nothing but a bloody streak on his cheek. She held up her small zanpakutou again, pushing the edge of the blade against his chest. Her eyes momentarily got a more clear spark in them. She didn't stab him just yet, as if waiting for his approval. She wasn't about to turn him into a shinigami without his expressive approval.
And she knew just how selfish she was in terms of what she was asking him. She was dying in his hands. And judging from the expression on his face, he absolutely hated holding a dying person. Having his hands stained in blood, from what she could tell. And now she was asking him to even kill a man for her. As a last, dying wish. But, she didn't have much time left.
If Gage gave her his permission, she'd use the final strength she had to push the blade through his chest, entrusting her power to him. Trusting him to shoulder the burden she failed to bear.
POST IN THE PROFILE NOTIFICATION THREAD TO BE GRADED!
CBOX RULES
I. DON'T START/ENGAGE IN DRAMA.
II. DON'T ASK FOR GRADINGS.
III. RESPECT EVERYONE.
IV. NO BIGOTRY.
V. NO IMITATING PEOPLE.
VI. KEEP IT PG-13.
VII. NO ADS/LINKING OTHER FORUMS EXCEPT RESOURCE SITES
VIII. DON'T SPOIL NEW CHAPTERS.
IX. NO SPAMMING.
X. NO ANIMATED ICONS.
XI. IF STAFF ASKS YOU TO STOP OR MOVE ON, DO IT.
XII. NO TROLLING/FLAMING.