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!
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How long had she been drunk for? An hour? No, most certainly not. Not if the stacks of empty wine jugs in the corner were an indication. Or the fact she could barely walk without stumbling all over the place. She had confined herself to her personal quarters on Olympus, allowing no one entry, and drank herself in to a stupor. Days it had been since she saw anything, or anyone, outside of this room. The only light she permitted to enter the room was that of the cracks of the windows she could not fully cover. What was the point? She had lost everything. Olympus was bare, her father was dead, the painful reminder sat in the corner, his Zanpakuto, that had failed to fade with him.
How had he fallen? He was the strongest person she had ever known, faced death more times than she could count, and stood victorious, yet he had fallen to the Quincy. To Humans. Mortals. Were they truly that strong? If so, what chance did she have? She could train for years and perhaps it would not be enough. Kisho had been stronger than she had, experienced more battles and victories than she, and claimed to have been barely able to scratch them.
Then who was that Quincy in Hueco Mundo? Was he the lowest of the low? Fodder? Perhaps he was a scout sent to the slaughter, to test their enemies. These other Sternritter were clearly more powerful, having dealt massive damage to Soul Society, as well. Gripping the jug of wine, she took another large swig, and stared at the Zanpakuto against the wall. "Emilia...." She perked up. There was that voice again.
"What?! I... I anshwer and yet you never reshpond!" She hiccuped as she stood, staggering and gripping the large table for balance. Moving forward she glanced around the room, wobbling as she did so. Where was it coming from? It wasn't her Zanpakuto, nor her Hollow, yet it knew her name. Had she been imagining? Had the trauma of losing her father caused her brain to finally snap? No... it was far more... real than that.
She looked at her fathers Zanpakuto, and finally understood. Dropping the jug of wine, ignoring the fact that it smashed on contact and spilled all over the floor. She rushed over to the blade and gripped it. "No..." It wasn't possible. She paniced, and took it to the other side of the room, opened her wardrobe, placed it inside, and closed it. Had it been calling out to her all this time? How..? Shaking her head, she turned.
Only to see the blade on her desk.
She froze as the voiced reverberated in her head again, this time far more thunderous than before. It made her head ache, but she felt... compelled. Staggering over to the table, she hesitated as she reached for it. What did it want? Was it in pain at the loss of its wielder? Was it crying out for aid?
Reaching out, she took hold of it.
And immediately lost consciousness.
When she next opened her eyes, the world around her had changed. It wasn't Olympus, though it was similar in appearance. Ancient Greek architecture, beautiful landscape. Empty. Where had she gone? Had she passed out and somehow walked to a Greek city? No... it was far too old to be in such good condition.
"Emilia..." She heard her name behind her, but when she turned she could see no one. Well, not no one, but blurred images of two figures standing some distance away from her. Was she that drunk? Perhaps it was just a dream and she had passed out from being intoxicated. It made the most logical sense... right?
The cool breeze on her skin proved otherwise. It was real. All of it.
"Where am I?! Who are you?!" She stammered and stumbled as she took a few steps forward, but the figures grew no closer. She panicked, that familiar feeling of anxiety swelled in her chest. She had no control of what was happening, and it terrified her. "Can she see us?" One voice rang out, but it was distorted, not enough that she could not make out words, but enough that she could not properly identify its gender. There was a rumbling, laughter, perhaps. "I doubt it. Can you not feel it? Her heart. It lacks strength." She grit her teeth and moved forward, but the images remained distant.
"Fuck you! Tell me where I am! Your names! NOW!" She reached for her weapons, but hands grasped at air. Nor could she summon them to her. That rumbling filled her ears once more. "We have, many times. You simply cannot hear us. Just as you cannot see us." What did they mean? "She's drunk. Again." They spoke to each other now. "That can be remedied." Suddenly, she found herself standing directly in front of these blurred images. They were fast. So fast that she could not even see the movement.
No... that wasn't quite right. They had pulled her to them. Just as she was about to speak, something slammed in to her stomach, unprotected without her armor to absorb some of the blow. She keeled over, fell to her knees, and vomited. It stunk of wine, and nothing else. She had not eaten in days. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stood, shakily, but she stood. "Fucker..." She spat, clearing her mouth of the vile taste as much as she could. Though she wasn't completely sober, it had cleared her muddled thoughts slightly.
"Names... blurred images. Voices from a sword... I understand now. You're Zanpakuto spirits. What I DON'T understand, is why you called to me." The voice rumbled, and slowly, became less distorted, the images more clear. "Did you not feel it? When you touched your fathers sword?" She thought for a moment. She remembered, there was that slight.. spark. She hadn't paid it any attention then, but it made sense now.
"I see... our spirits bonded. That's why you didn't fade when he... passed. But why am I here? I have a Zanpakuto." The larger of the spirits stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, you did. Yet you cannot summon it, can you?" As the spirit spoke, its visage began to clear.
Or rather, his visage cleared. He was large, garbed in Spartan gear. Though he held no weapons, she could feel a new connection with him. "What... happened to you? You look and feel different." He nodded and stepped back. "When you bonded with your fathers Zanpakuto, our spirits merged. We became a reflection of you, as you are now. Not what you once were." He shrugged. It made sense, she had become more intertwined with the Greek lifestyle, she had not considered that it could affect her spirit. Perhaps alone it could not, but the bond... it had changed things. She turned to the other figure. "So then... you were the spirit of my fathers Zanpakuto." The smaller figured stepped forward, and nodded.
Her image began to clear. She was smaller, but held a more imposing and authoritative aura, as if she commanded her spirit. "I did not always look this way, though. I was far more terrifying, but bonding with you changed that." She too, shrugged. "I see. Still I don't understand all this, why pull me here?" The male spoke up, but chose to ignore her question. "You've been neglecting your training, drinking yourself in to a grief stricken stupor every day. You wallow in despair instead of growing." He growled, but it was Emi's turn to shrug.
"What's the point? If father could not defeat the Quincy, what hope do I have?" It was not the larger of the Spartans that reacted this time, but the female, who shoved her. Hard. She nearly fell to the ground. She spat. "Pathetic! Is this what he would have wanted? For you to give up?!" Emi stepped forward. "Go to hell! I am not strong enough to-" A fist slammed in to her cheek, sending her spiraling to the ground. The male looked on as the female stood over her now. "Oh boo hoo, woe is me! Your father died a WARRIOR, and you stand here a coward ready to give up. You're so pathetic. I don't know why he ever bothered saving your life." She stepped away.
Emi choked back tears, not because of the strike, but the words. They cut deeper than any sword could. Was she right? Yes, she truly was a coward. Her father had died fighting, and yet here she was drinking, attempting to drown her pain in wine.
She had attempted to climb back to her feet, but the female had stomped back, and backhanded her back in to the dirt. "Stay down! You do not deserve to live on your feet. Die on your hands and knees as you should, like a scared, beaten dog." Emi spit blood from her mouth. "Fuck you..." She wiped her mouth again, but as she looked up, she found the tip of a spear thrust at her neck, mere inches away from impaling her jugular. "I should kill you right here. We would fade, cease to exist, but it would be better than being in the hands of a coward!" She growled, even as the male stepped forward. "Enough, she should be given a chance to prove her worth." The woman looked over to the male. She mouthed words, but Emi could not hear the first part. "-----, no! It would be better this way. You know it as well as I." The male shook his head. "I know her better than you, ------, and I will not allow you to determine my fate without giving her a chance. Now, lower your weapon, and let the girl to her feet."
The female stared, sighed, and complied, withdrawing the spear from her neck. Emi stood, glaring at the female. "There is no chance to be given, I did not ask for either of you to come to me. I was doing just fine where I was. I have disappointed father once, what does it matter a second time? Now, send me back." The male stepped forward this time. "Send you back? So you can drink yourself to death? No, we brought you here for a reason, and you will not be leaving until it is fulfilled." Emi snarled. "I already told you I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH." She screamed it at him, but he stepped forward and shoved her. "Then GET stronger! You are a WARRIOR, act like one!" She growled and shoved him back. "You know nothing! You have not experienced the pain I have felt! I have lost EVERYTHING!" This time the male roared, shoved her, and threw her to the ground. "Pain? PAIN? I experience pain every day you do! When you weep, my world SHAKES, my essence BURNS! What you feel, I feel! Do not speak of PAIN to me, little one." She tried to rise, but he shoved her back down with a booted foot. "What is your name?! She looked up at him, tried to rise, only to be pushed back down.
"What? What do you mean?" He shook his head. "Your name! What is it?" She took to a knee, and searched his face for answers, but found none. "I don't understand..." The male sighed. "Think! Look within, and find your name!" Surely he didn't simply mean 'Emilia'. There was more to it than that. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she thought, she searched her memories, but found only pain. Tears threatened to spill over once more, but she choked them back. "Very well..." Suddenly, a massive sword formed in the hands of the male, who took another step forward. "I am sorry, Emilia..." She rose to her feet and took a step back, the male and female moved forward now.
The male swung is sword, and the female thrust with her spear, Emi reacted on instinct, ducking and dodging as they pressed forward. Still, she could summon no weapon to defend herself. The sword missed, but a fist made its mark, striking her jaw, the butt end of the spear driving in to her gut, forcing her to hunch over slightly, a second fist slamming in to her cheek and driving her back, rolling across the ground. She groaned, spat blood, and scrambled to her feet. Was she to die here? Killed by the very spirits meant to aid her in battle?
She moved forward with intent to strike back, but the female laughed, which threw her off guard for a moment. The male struck, swinging down. Emi reacted at the last moment, the tip of the blade just barely catching her shoulder, nicking her and drawing blood. Emi winced, and stepped back. "Your father would be embarrassed." The woman goaded her, Emi glanced at the ground. A mistake. They pushed forward and attacked again, the tip of the spear just barely missing her rib cage, the sword swinging towards her head. She leaned back, the tip catching a few strands of hair. "YOUR NAME, WHAT IS IT?" He pushed forward again, swinging with renewed rage, the female pushing along side him.
They drove her to the ground again, blood dripped from a fresh wound as she exhaled heavily. No.. she would not die here. Not like this. She narrowed her eyes. "Emilia..." She spoke her name, quietly, but the male stopped in his tracks and looked down at her. "What?" She stood, shakily. "I said... my name is Emilia." The spirits laughed. "Yes, it is. And what of it?" Was that not what he meant?
Of course it wasn't. She stepped forward. "Emilia...daughter of Kisho..." Still, it was quiet, said with lack of confidence. "Can't hear you." He twirled the blade once as he moved forward. "I SAID MY NAME IS EMILIA, DAUGHTER OF KISHO!" She pushed forward now, reaching out, she gripped a sword in her right hand, and in the left, a spear. Now, she pushed forward, attacking and swinging with rage, grief. Determination. She forced both Spartans on the defense, despite out numbering her. They struggled to keep up now, she lunged, thrust, swung, dipped, and rolled. She was fast, strong, and fierce. They laughed now, even as she struck both with sword and spear. "Good! That's good, Emi! Now call to us! Let our names flow from your tongue!"
She stopped, and grinned.
"Lepída tou Spartiáti vasiliá, To Spear tis Vasílissas [Blade of the Spartan King, Spear of the Queen]!" She raised the weapons above her head, her breath was labored, but she understood now. "Forgive me. Both of you. I had allowed my grief to rule over me, cast fear and doubt in to my heart. Never again. I will grow stronger, hunt the Quincy that killed father, and send them to Hades for eternal torment." They nodded in approval.
She lowered her weapons, and sealed them, two smaller blades appearing in her hands. Just as she was about to sheathe them on her back, they erupted in a flame of reiatsu. "What-!" She struggled to keep the weapons sealed, gritting her teeth as she tried with all her might. What was going on? Why were they not responding to her will? "In your grief you allowed yourself to lose control over your reiatsu, it flows from you like raging oceans, unable to be contained, in turn, you are unable to contain your Zanpakuto. It matters little, show the world the weapons you carry, wield them with pride, and strike fear in to those who would do you harm."
She could not contain it, and the weapons released once more, in an erupting blaze of reiatsu. At first, she was not sure what to make of it, but then she smiled. Yes... the Quincy would know, and they would fear the weapons she carried. For when they saw the glint of blade and spear, they would know that it was Emi who came for them.
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.
