Quoth The Raven [EVENT]

    "Hold!" Mihri yelled to the trainees, who pulled their wooden blades just before they engaged. She stood at the edge of a sparring arena, which was simply a patch of dirt ringed with a brown picket fence. Two boys who looked barely adolescent wore thick pads and caged fencing masks. It was just another day, and Mihri had been sent over to the thirteenth's barracks to help with training. She held her longsword in her right hand, brandishing it as she approached the two sparring partners. She had one of them raise his sword into a ward. Mihri mimicked a cut, allowing the trainee to block statically. She pushed on his sword with hers, explaining to him the importance of transferring momentum in swordsmanship. With her explanation done, she turned away to stand at the edge and observe again.

    And then, the world went mad.

    Tap, Tap, Tap, loud as s thundering drum echoed through the Seireitei. The alarm, sounding an emergency. Tap, tap, tap. Then the loudspeakers squealed their sounds of awakening, drowning out all other sounds. "Ryoka in the Seireitei! Ryoka in the Seireitei! All Squads to battle stations! Repeat, Ryoka in the Seireitei! All Squads to battle stations!" The loudspeaker repeated over and over. Mihri froze with fear, staring off into the distance as if entranced. It fell from the sky, a ring of pure white stone that crashed in a neat circle around the Seireitei. The wall had been deployed by the Royal Guard, Mihri knew now how serious the situation had just become.

    She turned and barked to her trainees, "You two! Find somewhere to hide! That's an order! Quick march!"

    They hadn't needed convincing, they simply rushed towards the nearest building with thick walls. Mihri ran out of the ring, only to immediately encounter two Quincy. One had a bow already docked with an arrow meant for Mihri. The other held a longsword, not dissimilar to Mihri's own. Mihri assumed a high offensive ward. She held her arms straight up above her head, her sword pointing to the sky at a forty-five degree angle. The arrow flew, and Mihri swung her sword down, complimenting the motion with a passing step. The arrow broke apart on the edge of Mihri's parry. She flashed forward. During the flash step she placed her sword on her shoulder, then landed and swung, sending a cut for the bowman's neck. Steel met flesh and the bowman's head flew several meters. Mihri turned and the Quincy swordsman gave a sloppy swing, a simple cut from the right. Placing her thumb on the flat of her blade, Mihrii swung upward diagonal cut. The swords clashed with a shower of sparks. The Quincy fell limply to his knees, Mihri's swing having bypassed his cut, causing the tip of her sword to embed in his forehead.

    She did not wait to even clean the blood from her blade. Mihri kept running. Her body momentarily felt like an elephant had fallen on her. Mihri felt Reiatsu unlike any strengths she had ever witnessed, and they were nearby. She felt Ukitake's impressive Reiatsu.... felt it fading. She made a snap decision, and ran towards Ukitake's Reiatsu. She had to help him. Mihri feared that if any captain were to die today, all would be lost. Captain Kuchiki would understand, she was backing up a captain, surely, surely he would not punish her. But now, as the world broke down, Mihri was not sure of anything.

    It had happened again. More Quincy, more death, more blood and murder. Mihri wanted to cry. Thousands of Quincy had died to her blade centuries ago. Her mind only recently showed signs of recovery, of progress back to normality, or so the doctor had told her. All those people... all those Quincy... the children... now it was happening again. They would most certainly throw her into yet another black ops unit, for more senseless slaughter. If for Mihri there was ever a worst nightmare, then she was now living it.

    She turned a corner, into a long alley that lead to the main Squad 13 barracks. There was little left of the walls, palisades and huts that normally dotted a Squad barracks. There were now only piles of shattered bricks, blood, and bodies. And a little shinigami boy, struggling in swordplay against another longsword brandishing Quincy. The Quincy had his back to her. Mihri made another snap decision, and let Mokin fly from her hand. The sword became three in the air. One sword impaled the Quincy through the back of his head, the tip exploding in a shower of blood from his mouth. The other two swords each impaled a lung. The Quincy was instantly killed, dropping to the ground in a heavy heap. The swords ripped themselves from the Quincy as Mihri ran forward to check if the lad was okay.

    "Hey! You alright?! You need to report to your Squad! All have been called to battle stations!" Mihri said in a panicked, breathless voice as her swords came to hover inches behind her back. "I'm going to help Captain Ukitake. I can sense his reiatsu- he's losing. Are you alright on your own?"

SPOILER: Click to show

{Spoiler}
Name: The Talons

Class: Shikai

Tier: I

Type: Summon

Range: 100m

Description:
At the master's mental command, the blade lifts from their hands and begins to hover on its own. The blade flies through the battlefield without a hand upon it, cutting down opponents as if deft hands were still wielding it. The sword will flash in a pale blue glow and multiply, further pressuring the enemy with an agile onslaught of steel from every direction. As many as four extra swords can be conjured for a maximum of five. However, spawning more swords will always make their attacks slower and weaker though the swords will last longer. Using stronger attacks with fewer swords, conversely, makes it more difficult to sustain the ability and a trade-off is made. The hands free nature of this technique is a great boon for the swordsman, as their body is no longer part of the equation; thus lifting many bio-mechanical limitations imposed upon a swordsman.

     The young Shinigami was rather a small lad, barely a child by the looks of him, a fair complexion and high posture betraying nobility. He had light brown hair and wore a typical Shihaksho of the Gotei, a Zanpakuto tucked away in his belt. Truly he was just a lad and getting his first glimpse of war. Mihri knew he was not the only one, knew he would not the last youth to taste death and conflict today. The lad identified himself as a member of the Kidoshou, then announced his intention to assist Ukitake as well. The boy then knelt and looted the Quincy of his gear. Mihri could tell this was not the first time this child had been in a situation like this. He was no stranger to conflict. Mihri sighed, knowing she would be unlikely to dissuade him, however much she would rather not fight beside a child. She was in no position to be choosy about her allies.

    ”The Quincy are here in force and the wall is down. This is indeed an invasion.” She explained as her breath managed to catch up. “We best get moving. Ukitake won’t last long.” Mihri spun and began to walk briskly to the end of the alley, only to be stopped by three Quincy. Her ears heard two more at the other end of the alley. “Shit.” Mihri cursed under her breath. Two more swords came to be, seeming to simply blink into existence. One formed in Mihri's hand, the other joined the cluster behind her back. She held the one sword in a half-sword grip, holding the weapon with her left hand gripping the mid point of the blade, her right hand situated normally on the hilt near the cross-guard. A more ideal grip for close quarters and against armoured opponents, if a bit bizarre to behold.

    "Gentlemen: I offer you the same. Lay down your weapons, surrender and swear fealty to our King. Your Reiryoku will be removed, and if you behave you will be given leave to return to whatever low existence you call lives. If you do not..." Her eyes began to flow with a torrent of pale blue energy. Mihri seemed to pay no mind to the blue swirls and pressure that seemed to emanate from her. "...then I shall bring you to your knees and you will beg me for mercy."

    Her stance became wide and low, her arms straightened before her. She regarded the other shinigami in a low voice, "I shouldn't think they mean to give us that choice. Ready yourself."

The armored Quincy smiled and cracked a stifled laugh. Reishi gathered and swirled like a vortex around the Quincy’s head. The Reishi flashed and settled, solidifying around the Quincy’s head as a full plate helm. With the added helmet, he was clad head to toe in stout metal plate. The armour glistened in yellow and orange, reflecting the crackling fires and devastation around them. The Quincy knight then gathered more Reishi in his hand, quickly conjuring a mighty warhammer. He stated his plans to eliminate the Kido Corps commander and her family. Mihri regarded the boy curiously for a brief moment. So he’s a Hirashi, Mihri thought. It could be a great political boon to keep this child safe.

Mihri seemed to be off to a poor start. For when the Quincy charged and swung his hammer, she was not fast enough to resist. The hammer struck the boy and flew him into a nearby wall. He impacted with surprising force, enough to crack the bricks. The kid still lived beneath the rubble, Mihri could hear his heart. The Quincy quickly turned to Mihri and lifted his hammer high, then charged forward, swinging the bar of metal down as he came within reach. Mihri ducked under, parrying by sliding the hammer’s haft across the flat of her blade. She turned her blade as it slid across the hammer, pointing the pommel at the Quincy's helmet. She thrusted forward and rang the helm like a bell, jolting the knight backward.

The Quincy stood afar from the shinigami, Mihri raising her guard again as the boy began to stir. The Quincy remarked the lad’s strength as the lad emerged from a pile of rubble. The boy had drawn his sword, and in his next breath called on his Zanpakuto. Rainbows of warm light danced and curled about the alleyway before gathering around the little shinigami. He boasted an impeccable Reiatsu, Mihri wondered how experienced he truly was.

The knight wasted no time. His Reiatsu sharpened as he charged forward again. Mihri stood before the boy as the Quincy again raised his hammer. He swung another blow which Mihri checked by throwing her right hand forward, causing the hilt and lower half of the blade to flick outward and deflect the hammer. Mihri moved perilously closer to the Quincy as she blocked his attack. The knight struck again, but Mihri easily parried his blow that was weakened by the tight conditions. The Quincy moved to raise his hammer again, but it was too late. Mihri had rotated her sword such that the point had a clear line to his throat. Then, with a step and all her weight behind the thrust, she guided the point of her bastard sword into the Quincy’s throat; taking advantage of a small gap beneath the helmet, a gap barely large enough to be seen. The Quincy dropped his warhammer, falling to his knees he clutched his throat as life’s blood drained from him. Mihri took a step back and released her sword, allowing the corpse to become a part of the devastation.

Four swords behind her back faded away. Mihri shouted to the other shinigami, “Hurry! This way!” She stepped over the armoured corpse and ran from the alley towards Ukitake’s Reiatsu. The alley opened into a long street, flanked on both sides by broken walls and collapsed buildings. Fires cracked and sizzled among the broken huts and caved roofs. Water sprayed from sheared plumbing, severed electrical wires buzzed and threw sparks. The street, what remained of it between the rubble, was just large enough for two to walk abreast.

The Captain's Reiatsu, in the distance was flickering away to a wisp. As she ran, Mihri made a plan, assuming the boy was close behind, “Okay, listen up. Objective is VIP: Captain Ukitake. We eliminate any threats we can, but the primary is extracting Ukitake to Squad 4. All else is secondary.” Mihri had no authority over a Kidoshu, she knew, her plan was mostly to organize her own thoughts into a simple path, a direct focus.

There were two Reiatsu around the next corner. One was clearly Captain Ukitake, faltering, holding little remaining strength. The other was a Quincy. A towering Reiatsu, a strength Mihri had only ever felt in Quincy during the first war. Mihri halted at the corner, keeping herself low and quiet. Mihri took a cursory peek around the corner, and what she saw sunk her heart into her stomach. The Quincy was an elderly looking fellow, appearing to be a human in his early fifties. His hair was grayish white, his uniform white and blue and unstained. He held his hands forward and from his fingers Mihri’s eyes could see thin threads that held Captain Ukitake in the air by his throat.

Mihri turned to the other Shinigami, “This is not going to be easy. Feel his presence? We can’t hope to beat him. We need to disable him. You should try to bind him, I’ll intercept his attacks. When we have an opening, we’ll smuggle the captain away.” Mihri took a deep breath, holding her sword near her face, peering at her reflection in the bloodstained blade. “Are you ready?”

As the armored quincy battled the older Shinigami, Moeru watched, unable to find an opening to assist. he had heard stories of Mirhi, everyone in the academy had heard of how she slaughtered the quincies during the last war. Her skills did not disappoint. As she moved to get to the captain, Moeru looked at the man for a moment. “So much for that armor.” He followed her as best he could, his shikai letting him keep pace with her. As she spoke he listened and nodded. He didn’t have powerful enough binding spells. But he could…

The other Shinigami arrived and Moeru realized a fraction of a second to late, and he left cover to scream a warning. “NO! GET BACK!” he was too slow, once again he was to slow to save his comrades in arms. The wires wrapped around them, digging into their skin as red droplets hit the ground. They moved unnaturally, as they were forced to advance toward them. Moerus hand gripped his shikai tightly, his skin pale as flashbacks to the white desert ran through his mind. Watching his friends blood stain the sand red. Tengen sat on his shoulders in unease as with a sudden burst of black tinted reiatsu, Moeru’s cap flew away from him, the ground under him cracking. The rainbow feathers on tengen Kujaku turning a dark black, fading from the once brilliant colors they were.

“How dare you….” The Reiatsu grew in size as Moeru lifted his head to look at the man who held his comrades captive. Bitter tears streamed down his cheeks as he lifted a gloved hand, a brilliant fire growing in its place. The Blue flame was condensed and hot. The boy who had once followed some of these men and woman around, joyously waving his toy sword as he followed them now stood with a resolute heart as he focused the spread. He let loose the attack, and steeled himself as the screams of pain were cut away. The flames moved past them, and if the enemy was within the range they would move through him as well.

“You think…id allow you to control them?!” the young boy yelled out with anger in his heart and murder in his eyes as the blue flames died away. He stood with his chin high. “The Shinigami aren’t just soldiers you ignorant quincy…. The Shinigami are a family. When we sign up to join the Gotei we make a promise, that should one of us fall to the enemy side…or be turned into an instrument to harm Soul Society…The others would do everything in their power to stop them!” he clenched his still smoking fist. “So Go ahead and take our arms, We will kick you death instead! And if you take our legs, we’ll bite your damn ankles till you bleed out! And if you take our head, WELL STARE YOU INTO YOUR GRAVE! DON’T YOU DARE UNDERESTIMATE THE GOTEI 13 YOUR DAMN BASTARD!”

The bells jingled on his shikai as three beams of light left his hand and slammed into the enemy. They probably wouldn’t do much, Moeru knew he could never hope to match this enemy. But he had a job to do, and that was to get the enemy to drop his focus on the captain for Mihri to get to him. His clothes billowed in the wind caused by his earlier attacks flames, the symbol of his clan flashed proudly on his chest from his uniform. he didn’t dare look away from the enemy. “MIHRI NOW!”


Name: Bakudo #8 Shitotsu Sansen (Beak-Stab Triple Beam)

Class: Kido

Type: Binding

Tier: III

Range: 30 Meters

Incantation:

Description:The user forms a golden triangle with their fingers, after which the tips of the triangle shoot out three beams of light that pin the target to one place on a surface, slamming into his or her body in three places in a shape of a perfect triangle.

Name: Hadō #73 Sōren Sōkatsui (Twin Lotus Blue Fire, Crash Down)
Class: Kido
Tier: V
Type: Offensive
Range: Medimum-Long (40-50m)
Incantation: Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! On the wall of blue flame, inscribe a twin lotus. In the abyss of conflagration, wait at the far heavens.
Description: Essentially a doubled version of #33, Sōkatsui, this spell fires a single streams of blue fire at Cero speed with greater potency than the single-shot variety to up to 40m. With incantation the fire gains more momentum up to x5 Cero Speed and only stops when it reaches its maximum range of 50m, running through targets as necessary.

    The threads shot toward all four of her swords. The threads wrapped the blades in red tangling wires, seeming to meld with the steel. What happened next was nothing short of shocking. The threads seemed to wrestle the swords from Mihri’s control. She struggled against it, but in vain. The swords flew shakily towards the Hirashi boy and swung for him. It was hard for Mihri not to mix fear and shame. Not even 200 years ago had any Quincy been strong enough to seize control of Mokin. This was somewhat terrifying. If he could with such ease take her sword, then he had to be immensely powerful. The swords swung, the shambling corpses attacked, but just in time the Hirashi boy erected a spheroid barrier around himself to protect from the onslaught around him. The swords hit the barrier and flew back, clattering onto the ground, the shamblers thrown back by the weight of their own deflected attacks.

    With a flash step Moeru appeared beside Mihri and his barrier came with him. The boy implored that the fight could not be won, that they should assume a ‘tactical retreat.’ He was probably right. Mihri, at the moment, had near nothing. Her sword had been taken, her comrades’ own bodies usurped, and a hugely powerful Quincy to dispatch. Mihri sighed. What a hopeless situation. There was little to be done about it other than to run or go down fighting. Mihri preferred the latter. To die fighting seemed like the option her father would take. If anyone should run interception it was Mihri. Her father would never forgive her if was the one to run and another die. To lose her sword and leave her objective unfulfilled at that, would shame the Ikeda. There had to be some chance, some way to force an opening. The threads… maybe… Mihri hatched a plan. A long shot, but it was better than nothing.

    Mihri sighed, then turned to Moeru. Her eyes seemed alive with a flowing energy that coursed a tight orbit around her pupils, “I should not think he will let us run. Besides, he has taken my zanpakuto. If you wish to flee I shall not stop you. As a point of pride, I can not. If you feel like staying, bind him or my sword. I’m rather useless without Mokin.”

    Three of her swords vanished from the air. The remaining sword held aloft by the threads, dangling and inert. Mihri felt a great shame looking on the sword, so easily captured by such a powerful enemy. She had to do something. Mihri would not, refused to leave Mokin behind. They had made a pact, two hundred years ago now. Mihri would make for a poor feudal lord if she were to hold her oaths so cheaply.

    "Bakudo #4 Hainawa." Was the first part of her plan. The Hainawa took shape in her right hand at its base and seemed to grow from a long string into a strong rope. Mihri sunk into a fighting posture, then flash stepped off of her rear foot and out of the barrier. She held her shield out to cover her body as she went, expecting the sword to come for her. Mihri aimed for it, moved toward it with as much speed as could muster in that moment. She landed and swung her right arm, flinging the rope towards the sword. If she were successful, the rope would entangle the sword around the crossguard, gaining her a firm grip with which to attempt to leverage her sword from the threads.


 

the blow came to fast, the shadow that loomed behind him had shattered his bubble, absorbing it into the blade that had struck him. but beyond the shock of the attack, which had seemingly happened out of nowhere when the mans reiatsu had changed, he was even more shocked and scared to find that he couldn’t feel… he couldn’t feel Tengen anymore. He stepped back, flash stepping as fast as he could away from the captains attack. He stumbled to a stop and turned to Mihri. “DON’T LET HIM TOUCH YOU! HE DID SOMETHING TO MY ZAN!” he scrambled to get back up, his arm trembling.

What the hell just happened… he thought to himself as he tried to access his shield. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t feel the bubble attempting to reform. He looked to his side and saw a zanpakuto from a fallen Shinigami. Its hilt was slightly charred from the fire he had used before. He eyed up Ukitake. Even if he wasn’t trying to kill him, Ukitake was a hard pressed opponent for someone like him to fight. His zanpakuto was a natural counter for someone like Moeru. Moeru flash stepped forward, grabbing the blade he had spotted and using it as a second to his main. He continued his flash step toward the Captain ready to parry any attacks he may use.

INNER WORLD

Inside Ukitakes inner world, a small fraction of Moerus soul stood, looking at the sky above him. he didn’t belong there, but being part of a whole meant even a fraction contained the same whit and intelligence as the original. The fraction of Moeru walked though the field that was seeming ukitake inner world.